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Sl^
SHORT
STORY
quick relief for
intercommunication problems
DIAL-X SYSTEMS
by
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jl ^Jrantiltah
MARVIN SLOT IN, Special Agent
Your NEW YORK LIFE INSURANCE CO.
Representative in Greater Atlanta
LIFE, ANNUITIES, HOSPITALIZATION
ACCIDENT, SICKNESS AND GROUP
1122 Fulton Nat’l Bank Bldg, JA. 2-5701
22
and the
SABBATH
by ZF.I.PA HECK
Susy pulled the covers over her head to keep the sun out
of her eyes. But she could hear her father’s voice. “Frankly,”
he was saying, “I think Susy is too young to understand about
the Sabbath. A child shouldn’t be taxed with going to schule
until she’s old enough to read.”
"Then you’d better not wake her,” Susy heard her mother
say.
Susy jumped out of bed and ran down the hall. “Mother-
er!” Susy bellowed in her loudest voice.
“Susy, Susy,” her father shouted up the stairs. “Stop that
noise this minute. Your mother just went out into the backyard
Your bees are acting up. It looks like they are going to swarm
today. So you’d better stay home. You can’t leave the bees, can
you, Susy? Are you listening?”
“Oh, no!” Susy felt her heart run up and down her throat
and then settle in her toes. “They mustn’t swarm on Sabbath.
I have to go to schule.”
“Why?” her father shouted.
“Because I must!” Susy bit her lips and tried to find the
words to tell her father how she felt when the Cantor sang a
long note, and how she felt when they picked the Torah up off
the table and held it up on the two wooden sticks, with the
wooden handles—but all she could say was, “Oh - - oH!”
She flew down the stairs, and out the back door. She flew into
the backyard and almost into her mother’s arms.
“Just listen,” her mother said. “They’re ready to swarm.
What woke you so early? You don’t have to get up early today,
darling. It’s the Sabbath ”
“Those bees!” Susy said, staring up at the buzzing hive.
Her mother sighed. “Why can’t you have a kitten, or a dog,
or even a parrot, Susy? Why must it be bees, a little girl like
you, and so many bees!”
“I like bees,” Susy said.
“Then you’d better stay home and take care of them." her
mother said, going into the house, stopping only to say a few
little words over her shoulder. “I think we ought to get rid of
the bees Susy. They take up too much of your time.”
“Susy,” her father said, “you’d better stay home today.” He
was leaning out of the upstairs window. It’s a nice sunny day.
Just the kind of a day for bees to swarm.”
“Suppose it rained?” Susy asked.
“Bees don’t swarm when it rains,” her father said, closing
the window and disappearing into the house. He was wearing
his Sabbath tie—a little black bow tie that jiggled.
“No rain today?” Susy said, looking up at the blue sky. The
blue sky said no. The sun was shining. No wind was blowing.
It was a day for sun and sun and—swarming. Unless she could
make it rain. Unless—!
Susy ran around to the side of the house, to the shed where
the garden hose was connected. The faucet was easy to turn,
the hose was easy to pull if you pulled with all your might.
She pulled it out and dragged it to the apple tree where the
hive was. She tied the nozzle of the hose to an overhanging
branch, so that the water flowed like rain, over the hive. She
let it flow while she ran into the house, quietly, and into the
hall closet, quietly, to find her father’s big, old, black, um
brella. She opened the umbrella in the backyard. She tied the
ends of the opened umbrella to the ends of the branch above
the hive, so that the sun didn’t shine on the hive at all, and
the hive was black with the shade of the black umbrella. Then
she turned the water off at the faucet, dragged the hose back
to the side of the house, and went upstairs to her room and
dressed fast as lightning, almost forgetting to put on her shoes.
Her father was just about ready to leave by the front door
The Southern Israelite