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Updated: May 2, 2025
It was a Friday evening, and up at the Hall the Sabbath had commenced, two Sabbath-tapers shining now upon the Mezuzzah at the dining-room door, Frankl being of the Cohanim, the priestly class a Jew of Jews. As he had passed in, two Moghrabim Jews had saluted him with: "Shabbath"; and mildly he had replied: "Shabbath".
"We were a-talking about that Circular !" cried one. At that moment two other men joined the group: one a dark-skinned Jew of the Moghrabim; the other a young man an English author on tour. And these two heard what passed. Hogarth stood suspended, finding no words, till one cried: "Do you mean to put the cap on?" He laughed a little now. "I! The whip!
The whip!" he showed his hunting-crop, and was gone. His manner of speech was rapid, and he had a hoarse sort of voice, almost as of sore-throat. Of the two not farmers, one the author enquired as to his name, and farm; the other man the Moghrabim Jew-that evening recounted to Frankl the words which he had heard.
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