68 THE KING OF SCHNORRERS.
one's Maker for hire ! Under such conditions to pray is to work." His breast swelled with majesty and scorn.
"I cannot call it vork," protested the Schnorrer. "Vy at dat rate you vould make out dat de minister vorks ? or de preacher? Vy, I reckon fourteen pounds a year to my services as Congregation-man."
" Fourteen pounds ! As much as that? "
"Yes, you see dere's my private customers as veil as de Synagogue. Ven dere is mourning in a house dey cannot alvays get together ten friends for de services, so I make von. How can you call that vork ? It is friendship. And the more dey pay me de more friendship I feel," asserted Yankele with a twinkle. " Den de Synagogue allows me a little extra for announcing de dead."
In those primitive times, when a Jewish newspaper was undreamt of, the day's obituary was published by a peripa- tetic Schnorrer, who went about the Ghetto rattling a pyx — a copper money-box with a handle and a lid closed by a padlock. On hearing this death-rattle, anyone who felt curious would ask the Schnorrer :
"Who's dead to-day?"
"So-and-so ben So-and-so — funeral on such a day — mourning service at such an hour," the Schnorrer would reply, and the enquirer would piously put something into the " byx," as it was called. The collection was handed over to the Holy Society — in other words, the Burial Society.
" P'raps you call that vork? " concluded Yankele, in timid challenge.
" Of course I do. What do you call it? "
" Valking exercise. It keeps me healty. Vonce von of my customers (from whom I schnon'ed half-a-crown a veek) said he was tired of my coming and getting it every Friday.
