BOOK ONE: YESTERDAY 111 did not da so. Berthold was almost worried that they took it too seriously. U ncle Jaques put his head on one side, drew his lids far over his blue eyes, and reflected. "When the Romans were in Judea," he said at last, "they exacted very high tribute from the Jews. They asked the Talmudic Rabbis: 'Should a man give a correct valuation of his goods or not?' The Rabbis an- swered: 'Woe to him that doth and woe to him that doth not.' Whatever you da, my lad, he'll try to put the rope round your neck." He paused for a moment and then continued: "I would say neither yes nor no. I would simply say, 'This is what I meant. But if anyone feels insulted, then I am sorry and I wish I had not said it.' Rector Franccis is a reasonable fellow." Heinrich was sitting on a high ehest-he was fond of sitting in unusual places-swinging his legs to and fro. "Reetor Francois," he said, "is a good old fellow. But the boys will think it a case of backsliding. Long Lummox, I mean a certain Werner Rittersteg, said at a committee meeting of the foot- ball club that 'Berthold ought to be expelled because he has not apologized.' For the time being, I gave hirn a good punch. Two days later he said that 'If Berthold did apologize he would be pretending.' A man's word is a man's word, it would go against honour." "Honour, honour," repeated Uncle Jaques, shaking his head. He said no more, but Berthold had never before heard a more bitter indictment of this conception of honour. "Moreover, I don't believe," Heinrich went on, studying the tips of his toes intently, "that Vogelsang, the swine, will con- tent himself with a half-and-half explanation. The thing can't be done away with except by a full and definite apology." He stopped the rapid swinging of his legs and jumped off the ehest. Ii Go ahead,' he turned to Berthold. "Get it over. You can't go against the whole school. Y ou've shown enough civic courage. What you said about the old Indian was undoubtedly

112 THE OPPERMANNS right. But there's no point, when you have to deal with a chap like that, in sticking to a statement simply because it's true. In a case like that it's much better to show Nordic cunning than a martyr's courage. I must say," he concluded with a wise air, and suddenly looked the image of his father, "you've learnt damned little on the practical side from youe studies of Ar- minius the German." "You're wrang, wrong, wrong!" cried Ruth Oppermann in a passion. She shook her head with its tan cornplexion and black hair, that hair which always looked a little wild and dishevelled. "You'll never da anything with these people if you employ that sort of opportunism. There's just one thing that they respect. And that's pluck, and nothing but pluck." Berthold looked at his cousin in amazement. Had .she not expressed unbounded admiration for the achievement of Ar- minius? And now she was demanding that he stick to his rationalist criticism of that achievement. That was Ruth all over. Not precisely logical, but a personality. The Chanukka lights had burned out. Jaques Lavendel brought out some phonograph records. Hebrew songs, an old Yiddish folk-ballad, He hummed the words as he played the record. "We used to be ten brothers, We traded in luscious wine; One of us died, poor fellow, And then we were only nine, Yossel, come play the fiddle, And Tevye, play the bass, We'll play a tune so merry Here, in the market-place," When the reeord stopped, Aunt Klara, who had hitherto been silent, observed: "There's nothing for it, Berthold. You