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He had been at it all day, and he went on far into the small hours, shaking his body backwards and forwards without remission. Meckisch was a Chasid, which in the vernacular is a saint, but in the actual a member of the sect of the Chasidim whose centre is Galicia. In the eighteenth century Israel Baal Shem, "the Master of the Name," retired to the mountains to meditate on philosophical truths.
Esther turned away, in amused disgust. She wondered whether Mrs. Meckisch still flaunted it in satins and heavy necklaces, or whether Meckisch had divorced her, or survived her, or something equally inconsiderate. "Is your grandmother in town?" she said at a venture. "Y e s," said the driver wonderingly. "She is over in her own house." Esther did not hasten towards it.
Meckisch also danced at home and sang "Tiddy, riddy, roi, toi, toi, toi, ta," varied by "Rom, pom, pom" and "Bim, bom" in a quaint melody to express his personal satisfaction with existence. He was a weazened little widower with a deep yellow complexion, prominent cheek bones, a hook nose and a scrubby, straggling little beard.
"Gideon, the M.P., may be said to desire a Rod of Moses, for his secretary told me he will take forty," said Shmendrik. "Hush! what are you saying!" said Sugarman, "Gideon is a rich man, and then he is a director." "It seems a good lot of directors," said Meckisch. "Good to look at. But who can tell?" said Sugarman, shaking his head.
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