552 BERKOWITZ
Inside the room into which Feivke was dragged by his new friend, it was hot, and there was a curious, un- familiar sound. Feivke grew dizzy. He saw Jews bow- ing and bending along the wall and beating their breasts now they said something, and now they wept in an odd way. People coughed and spat sobbingly, and blew their noses with their red handkerchiefs. Chairs and stiff benches creaked, while a continual clat- ter of plates and spoons came through the wall.
In a corner, beside a heap of hay, Feivke saw his father where he stood, looking all round him, blinking shamefacedly and innocently with his weak, red eyes. Round him was a lively circle of little boys whispering with one another in evident expectation.
"That is his boy, with the lip," said the chicken-face, presenting Feivke.
At the same moment a young man came up to Mattes. He wore a white collar without a tie and with a pointed brass stud. This young man held a whip, which he brandished in the air like a rider about to mount his horse.
"Well, Reb Smith."
"Am I ... I suppose I am to lie down ?" asked Mat- tes, subserviently, still smiling round in the same shy and yet confiding manner.
"Be so good as to lie down."
The young man gave a mischievous look at the boys, and made a gesture in the air with the whip.
Mattes began to unbutton his cloak, and slowly and cautiously let himself down onto the hay, whereupon the young man applied the whip with might and main, and his whole face shone.
