AN EASY FAST 145
The father cannot bear to hear it, and is about to answer her, but he keeps silent he can't say anything, it is not for him to speak! Who is he in the house? A broken potsherd, the last and least, no good to any- one, no good to them, no good to himself.
Because the fact is he does nothing, absolutely noth- ing; not because he won't do anything, or because it doesn't befit him, but because there is nothing to do and there's an end of it ! The whole townlet complains of there being nothing to do! It is just a crowd of Jews driven together. Delightful! They're packed like herrings in a barrel, they squeeze each other close, all for love.
"Well-a-day !" thinks Chaikin, "it's something to have children, other people haven't even that. But to depend on one's children is quite another thing and not a happy one!" Not that they grudge him his keep Heaven forbid ! But he cannot take it from them, he really cannot !
He knows how hard they work, he knows how the strength is wrung out of them to the last drop, he knows it well!
Every morsel of bread is a bit of their health and strength he drinks his children's blood! No, the thought is too dreadful!
"Tatinke, why don't you eat?" ask the children.
"To-day is a fast day with me," answers Chayyim Chaikin.
"Another fast? How many fasts have you?"
"Not so many as there are days in the week."
