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Melchitsedek Pinchas was the Passover guest at Reb Shemuel's table, for the reek of his Sabbath cigar had not penetrated to the old man's nostrils. It was a great night for Pinchas; wrought up to fervid nationalistic aspirations by the memory of the Egyptian deliverance, which he yet regarded as mythical in its details.
Wherefore he, Pinchas, would be their leader. Had not the Providence, which concealed so many revelations in the letters of the Torah, given him the name Melchitsedek Pinchas, whereof one initial stood for Messiah and the other for Palestine. Yes, he would be their Messiah. But money now-a-days was the sinews of war and the first step to Messiahship was the keeping of the funds.
"Who's that?" "Melchitsedek Pinchas, the poet I told you of." "I suppose he writes in Hebrew." "No, if he did the translation would be plain sailing enough. The trouble is that he will write in English. I must admit, though, he improves daily.
Melchitsedek Pinchas invariably turned up at the meetings and smoked Schlesinger's cigars. All the members of the Council of the Co-operative Kosher Society spoke English volubly and more or less grammatically, but none had sufficient confidence in the others to propose one of them for editor, though it is possible that none would have shrunk from having a shot.
Suddenly a strange gurgle spluttered through the cigarette smoke. He read the announcement again. The Yiddish 'Hamlet' was to be the Passover production at Goldwater's Theatre. The author was the world-renowned poet Melchitsedek Pinchas, and the music was by Ignatz Levitsky, the world-famous composer. 'World-famous composer, indeed! cried Pinchas to his garret walls.
Melchitsedek Pinchas by dint of a five-pound note from Sir Asher Aaronsberg in acknowledgement of the dedication to him of the poet's 'Songs of Zion' had carried his genius to the great new Jewry across the Atlantic. He had arrived in New York only that very March, and already a crowd of votaries hung upon his lips and paid for all that entered them.
Yea, I, even I, Melchitsedek Pinchas, will light the fire forthwith." "Nay, not to-day," said Reb Shemuel, with his humorous twinkle; "it is the Sabbath." The Rabbi was returning from synagogue and Pinchas was giving him his company on the short homeward journey.
Let us have nothing to do with these swine Moses our teacher forbade it. See, my name Melchitsedek Pinchas already makes M.P. it was foreordained. If every letter of the Torah has its special meaning, and none was put by chance, why should the finger of heaven not have written my name thus: M.P. Melchitsedek Pinchas. Ah, our brother Wolf speaks truth wisdom issues from his lips.
Do they say: 'Welcome, Melchitsedek Pinchas, welcome as the bridegroom to the bride when the long day is done and the feast is o'er; welcome to you, with the torch of your genius, with the burden of your learning that is rich with the whole wealth of Hebrew literature in all ages and countries. Here we have no great and wise men. Our Chief Rabbi is an idiot.
"What does he know of the Holy Tongue?" croaked Melchitsedek witheringly, adding in a confidential whisper to the cigar merchant: "I and you, Schlesinger, are the only two men in England who can write the Holy Tongue grammatically." His beard was, however, better trimmed and his complexion healthier, and he looked younger than ten years ago. His clothes were quite spruce.
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