Chapter 5 No.5

The whole dwelling, consisting of one nice, large, low room, is clean, tidy, and bright. The bits of furniture and all the household essentials are poor, but so clean and polished that one can mirror oneself in them, if one cares to stoop down. The table is laid ready for Passover. The bottles of red wine, the bottle of yellow Passover brandy, and the glass goblets of different colors reflect the light of the thick tallow candles, and shine and twinkle and sparkle. The oven, which stands in the same room, is nearly out, there is one sleepy little bit of fire still flickering.

But the pots, ranged round the fire as though to watch over it and encourage it, exhale such delicious, appetizing smells that they would tempt even a person who had just eaten his fill. But no one makes a move towards them. All five children lie stretched in a row on the red-painted, wooden bed. Even they have not tasted of the precious dishes, of which they have thought and talked for weeks previous to the festival. They cried loud and long, waiting for their father's return, and at last they went sweetly to sleep. Only one fly is moving about the room: Rochtzi, Bertzi Wasserführer's wife, and rivers of tears, large, clear tears, salt with trouble and distress, flow from her eyes.