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Updated: May 13, 2025
The other boy laughed and Sarah-Leah joined him. That was my first taste of the bitter cup called jealousy I went home a lovelorn boy I took to practising "taps." I was continually trumpeting. I kept at it so strenuously that my mother had many a quarrel with our room-mates because of it My efforts went for nothing, however.
Poor little Sarah-Leah! She was the outcast of the family just as I was the outcast of her father's school. She was about eleven years old and I was somewhat younger. The similarity of our fates and of our self-pity drew us to each other. When her father beat me I was conscious of her commiserating look, and when she was mistreated by her mother she would cast appealing glances in my direction.
In my schooldays I would dream of becoming a rich and influential man and wreaking vengeance upon my brutal teachers, more especially upon Shmerl the Pincher and "the Cossack," the man whose little daughter, Sarah-Leah, had been the heroine of my first romance. I now rushed after Shmerl, greatly excited, one of the feelings in my heart being a keen desire to help him
Once when the teacher punished me with special cruelty her face twitched and she broke into a whimper, whereupon he gave her a kick, saying: "Is it any business of yours? Thank God your own skin has not been peeled off." Once during the lunch hour, when we were alone, Sarah-Leah and I, in a corner of the courtyard, she said: "You are so strong, Davie! Nothing hurts you." "Nothing at all.
THE Cossack had a large family and one of his daughters, a little girl, named Sarah-Leah, was the heroine of my first romance. Sarah-Leah had the misfortune to bear a striking resemblance to a sister of her father's, an offense which her mother never forgave her. She treated her as she might a stepdaughter. As for the Cossack, he may have cared for the child, but if he did he dared not show it.
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