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"How do you make that out?" he asked Karlkammer. "Moses of course adds up the same as Moses but while the other part of the Maggid's name makes seventy-three, da Leon's makes ninety-one." "Ah, that's because you're ignorant of Gematriyah," said little Karlkammer, looking up contemptuously at the cantankerous giant.
Leah gave a happy laugh, and turned the new ring on her finger in delighted contemplation. "All's well that ends well," said Sam. "Through this joke Leah will be the belle of the Purim Ball. I think I deserve another piece of plaice, Leah, for that compliment. As for you, Mr. Maggid, you're a saint and a Talmud sage!" The Maggid's face was brightened by a smile.
The thought of them made Moses's heart heavy again; he forgot the Maggid's explanation of the verse in Habakkuk, and he retraced his steps towards Mordecai Schwartz's shop. But like his humbler rival, Mordecai had no use for the many-sided Moses; he was "full up" with swarthy "hands," though, as there were rumors of strikes in the air, he prudently took note of Moses's address.
He drew up a letter forthwith, not of course in the name of the Sons of the Covenant, but in the Maggid's own. He took the magniloquent sentences to the Maggid for signature. He found the Maggid walking up and down Royal Street waiting for the verdict. The Maggid walked with a stoop that was almost a permanent bow, so that his long black beard reached well towards his baggy knees.
He went out and wandered down another narrow dirty street in search of Mordecai Schwartz, whose address Baruch Emanuel had so obligingly given him. He thought of the Maggid's sermon on the day before. The Maggid had explained a verse of Habakkuk in quite an original way which gave an entirely new color to a passage in Deuteronomy.
"We haven't come to discuss the figures of the Maggid's name, but of his salary." said Mr. Belcovitch, who prided himself on his capacity for conducting public business. "I have examined the finances," said Karlkammer, "and I don't see how we can possibly put aside more for our preacher than the pound a week." "But he is not satisfied," said Mr. Belcovitch.
"My wife is dead and I never was blessed with a Kaddish." "It sounds better so," said the Shalotten Shammos authoritatively. "Preachers are expected to have heavy families dependent upon them. It would sound lies if I told the truth." This was an argument after the Maggid's own heart, but it did not quite convince him. "But they will send and make inquiries," he murmured.
Half a dozen, hands grasped the Maggid's; half a dozen others thumped him on the back. He was pushed into a chair. They gave him a glass of brandy, they heaped a plate with fried fish. Verily the Maggid, who was in truth sore ahungered, was in luck's way. He blessed Providence and the Jewish Marriage Law. "But you had better not reckon that a divorce," he warned them between two mouthfuls.
A guffaw greeted this sally. The Maggid's wit was relished even when not coming from the pulpit. To the outsider this disparagement of the Dutch nose might have seemed a case of pot calling kettle black.
The motion that the Maggid's application be refused was put to the vote and carried by a large majority. It was the fate of the Maggid to be the one subject on which Belcovitch and the Shalotten Shammos agreed. They agreed as to his transcendent merits and they agreed as to the adequacy of his salary. "But he's so weakly," protested Mendel Hyams, who was in the minority. "He coughs blood."
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