“scissors to grind! knives, axes, or saws to sharpen! everything made as sharp as new!” this is the cry, uttered in a clear and cheerful voice, which is frequently heard in the alleys and back yards as well as the streets and avenues of that vast and densely populated section of the american metropolis known as the great east side. the man who utters it is an unusually agreeable, as well as active and energetic, representative of the classic trade of scissors-grinding. he is a pleasant-faced, good-humored young fellow, with light-brown hair and rounded, open countenance, from which a pair of bright blue eyes gaze at you with a frank and sympathetic expression. his shabby clothes hang most gracefully on his lithe and erect, not over tall figure; his motions have a sort of trained elegance about them, and when he stands before you with his grinding machine on his back, he seems not so much an humble sharpener of domestic utensils, but rather some strange sort of soldier, and the machine upon his back some peculiar and unusual engine of warfare. he is very well liked in the entire district, and his popularity brings in sufficient trade to insure him a very fair living. when his clear and musical cry is heard anywhere in the neighborhood, the customers pour forth from the many-storied tenements, the cellar dwellings (i had almost written cave dwellings, which term would hardly have rendered me liable to a suit for libel if i had used it), and the little shops and stalls which abound everywhere in the vicinity. soon he is surrounded by a motley throng—jews, italians, poles, bohemians, men, women, and children, all sorts and conditions of mankind—who bring him a miscellaneous collection of invalid table knives, dilapidated carving knives, superannuated scissors, and antediluvian saws, all of which he is expected to heal and to restore to their pristine brightness and sharpness.
the scissors grinder
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187but, though our friend is well known and popular in the district, he is nevertheless unknown. by this paradoxical statement is meant that, although the scissors-grinder is personally a familiar and well-esteemed figure, nothing is known by the vast bulk of his constituents and customers of his connections, his history, or his antecedents. this is nothing strange or unusual 188in that section. people are not, as a rule, curious concerning each other on the east side. the inhabitants are mostly not native to the soil, but are a chance aggregation from all the countries of the civilized world, driven from their native habitats by the storm and stress of harsh experiences and brought together in the new world by the glittering attractions of the golden land. it is not always advisable under such circumstances to be over-inquisitive concerning the past history of one’s neighbors and friends, and therefore the dwellers on the east side are discreetly devoid of curiosity, and are quite content if the people with whom they associate are, in their present stage of life, decent and well behaved. that is why no one knows (or knew until recently) anything about the scissors-grinder—his history, his family, or even his name. nevertheless his story came out some time ago, and it proved to be, what no one would have anticipated from the scissors-grinder’s blithe and pleasant appearance, a real moral tragedy, a tale of blind, medi?val oppression, of high ambition suddenly blasted, of strange and sublime heroism. it came out through mendel greenberger.
mendel, who keeps a little optician shop in orchard street near grand, is considerable of a 189character himself, and, unlike the majority of the denizens of the region, is gifted with a lively curiosity concerning the persons with whom he comes in contact. mendel has travelled pretty much all over the world, and has acquired in the course of his wanderings the knowledge of a dozen or more languages and of at least three trades. but what he most prides himself on is his menschenkenntniss, that is, his ability to recognize at a glance the origin of strangers whom he sees for the first time, and to classify them according to the racial, religious, and social elements or subdivisions thereof to which they belong. this he infers from the appearance, conduct, and speech of the individuals concerned, and, in particularly interesting cases, he manages to have them reveal their names and other personal details of interest, but without asking direct questions, which he thinks impertinent.
when the scissors-grinder began to come into the neighborhood and mendel began to give him employment in his vocation, he at once recognized that here was an interesting and extremely puzzling personality. it was a real problem of the kind mendel greenberger loved to solve, but it defied his powers of analysis and classification. for the life of him he could not 190make out who or what the handsome, pleasant-spoken young man, with the lowly trade apparently so unsuited for him, was. his type was absolutely non-distinctive. as far as appearance went there was no telling whether he was jew or gentile, and no reason to assign him to any one european nation rather than another. his conduct and manner were just as little guide, for, though polite and manifestly well-bred, he had no mannerisms of any kind. baffled by his inability to “locate” his new acquaintance by these usually infallible indications, mendel resorted to the expedient of addressing him in various languages. but here mendel “tripped up,” so to speak, even more emphatically than before. the scissors-grinder spoke, with one exception, every european language which mendel did, but with superior accent and correcter grammar. his english was that of one to the manner born, though devoid of either cockney accent or yankee twang; his french would have done credit to any boulevardier; his german was as faultlessly exact in construction and pronunciation as that of any compatriot of goethe or schiller; and as for italian, spanish, russian, polish, and hungarian, to say nothing of the minor tongues, bohemian, roumanian, servian, greek, turkish, he spoke them all with 191perfect ease and fluency. it mattered not in what tongue the puzzled mendel addressed him, the scissors-grinder always answered in the same, but without betraying any surprise and as though it were the natural and to-be-expected thing to speak any and every idiom in existence. but, as already stated, there was one exception to the polyglot ability of the scissors-grinder. he did not know yiddish, for when mendel addressed him in that tongue, he did not understand him well and answered in german, the tongue most nearly related to the dialect of the jews of the slavonic lands, and without using any hebrew words or phrases with which even the german jews habitually interlard their speech. mendel had to confess to himself that the scissors-grinder was an enigma, which even he, with his great knowledge of human beings, could not solve. of two things, however, he felt certain: first, that the scissors-grinder was originally of far higher social station than his humble vocation would suggest, for his manners and bearing, and, above all, his extraordinary linguistic attainments, were only explainable on the ground of refined surroundings and the best of education; secondly, that he was no jew, for his ignorance of yiddish and hebrew and his manifest unfamiliarity with jewish ideas and 192usages showed conclusively that he had had no jewish bringing up nor had ever associated intimately with jewish circles.
mendel at first conjectured that the scissors-grinder was a nobleman of some european nation, who had been compelled to leave his native land for a political or other reason, and was obliged to support himself by his own labor in exile. noblemen in exile do not, however, usually select a vocation requiring as much skill and industry and withal so low in the social scale as scissors-grinding, so on second thought mendel abandoned this conjecture as untenable, and, not being able to set up any more satisfactory one, found himself, as far as this question was concerned, vis à vis de rien. not feeling able to remain in this condition, he cast about for other means of solving the problem and gratifying his curiosity. he determined to ask the scissors-grinder’s name. names, it is true, may be assumed, but mendel thought that even an assumed name would be some sort of clew to its bearer’s identity, for it would, at least, indicate to what nation or class the bearer considered himself and desired to have others consider him as belonging. accordingly when next the scissors-grinder appeared in the neighborhood of mendel’s shop and was bringing back finely 193renovated the penknife which mendel had given him to sharpen, the latter remarked: “fine weather we are having to-day, mr. ——!” and paused with expectant air.
“my name,” said the scissors-grinder quietly, “is eliezer schwartzfeld.”
mendel gazed at him in undisguised astonishment. “that sounds extremely jewish,” he said. “you are not one of the chosen people, are you?”
“yes, i am a jew,” answered the scissors-grinder, with just a suggestion of a smile at mendel’s evident surprise; “a russian jew at that, too.”
mendel’s astonishment increased to a degree that was absolutely comical. here was an utterly inexplicable case. it was not that the scissors-grinder’s physiognomy did not contain a feature that suggested the semite—that was common enough, especially among russian jews; but what might be called the psychology of the case was utterly baffling to mendel. he had often met jews that were well educated and spoke a number of languages with fluency, but in all his experience he had never come across one who had not at least some, however slight, acquaintance with the jewish mother tongues, yiddish or hebrew. he had frequently come 194in contact with jews, well and gently reared in their native lands, who had been forced by adverse circumstances to earn their bread by humble labor in america; but they had invariably found employment in some one of the so-called “jewish” branches of industry, tailoring, cloak-making, cigar-packing, or the like, which open at least the door to a future as an independent manufacturer or merchant. but something so plebeian and hopeless as scissors-grinding, and embraced, too, by a man of evident refinement—why, that was utterly anomalous, unheard of! he gazed at the scissors-grinder without uttering a word, but with eyes which told unmistakably their tale of amazement.
“you are surprised,” said the latter, “i suppose, because i, though a jew, do not speak yiddish, and because i found nothing better to do than to sharpen scissors and knives. let me tell you my story and you will wonder no longer. i can recollect very little of my earliest childhood. my mother must have died, i think, when i was hardly more than an infant, for all i can recollect of her is a picture, very dim and faint, of a sweet, motherly face bending over me and of a tender, loving voice calling me darling and dove. my father, too, must have left this earth when i was only about four or 195five years of age. my memories of him, too, are few and indistinct. i can recall that i was a very small child in charge of an old, cross-tempered woman, a jewess, i think, who treated me with a strange alternation of cruelty and kindness. my father used to visit me at rare intervals in this place, and bring me sweetmeats and little presents, and i can remember that on these occasions he was always dressed in a brilliant uniform, which filled my childish heart with admiration and awe. my most distinct recollection concerning my father is of the circumstances attending his death. he was brought to the house one day with blood-stained bandages around his head and breast and with face ghastly pale. they laid him upon a couch, and for several days physicians came to treat him, and men dressed in even brighter and finer uniforms than his came to visit him, and some of them chucked me under the chin and called me a fine little fellow. then one day he called me to his bedside and said to me, in such a faint voice that i had to put my ear to his mouth in order to catch his words: ‘eliezer, my darling boy, i am going to die and must leave you alone in the world. but i have spoken to good people, and they have promised me to care for you and to see 196that you are educated to become what your father was—a soldier—but a higher and nobler one than he could be. always be good and honorable in all your doings, and above all, my son, never forget, wherever you may be or whatever you may become, that you are a jew, as your father was, and never permit anything to swerve you from your faithfulness to the holy traditions of our religion and people.’ then he kissed me on my brow, and, child though i was, i knew that something dreadful was going to happen, and burst forth into an agony of bitter weeping that shook my little frame convulsively. that same night he died, and the day after the next he was taken away in the midst of a great concourse of people, among whom were many jewish men and women whom i knew not, and who wept and cried aloud as they accompanied the funeral procession. there was also a long line of soldiers, who marched with flags draped and guns reversed, and in front of whom went musicians and drummers with crape-covered drums, who played together a sad, funereal strain as they marched. i was left behind, gazing out of the window at the funeral procession as long as it was in sight, weeping as though my very heart would break and feeling that i was left all alone now in the world, without 197friend, protector, or well-wisher. but the same afternoon a kindly spoken, friendly looking officer, attired in a brilliant uniform, came to my lodgings, told the old woman who had charge of me that he was col. ivan mentchikoff, and that he had been appointed legal guardian of corporal schwartzfeld’s son and had come to take me away. i noticed that the old woman did not seem satisfied, and grumbled something to herself with a discontented air, but she did not audibly object, but took the money which the colonel offered her. she then packed together my little belongings, carried them down to the carriage which was waiting at the door, and the colonel and i entered and drove off to the railroad station, whence we left for the colonel’s home, which was in the town of yellisavetgrad, many miles away. i remained with the family of the colonel for eight or nine years. i was treated with the utmost kindness—in fact, in all regards, except one, exactly like the children of the family. colonel mentchikoff was very particular in regard to the education of his children. he kept the best of private tutors for all subjects, and was especially insistent that they should learn all the chief european languages, a knowledge of which, he declared, was essential 198to a russian gentleman. i had, of course, the advantage of all this, the same as all the others, and i quickly discovered that i had a special linguistic talent, and, while i easily kept pace with the mentchikoff boys and girls in all the subjects of instruction generally, as regards the acquisition of languages i was so superior that i could not be compared with them at all. it was no trouble at all to me to acquire a new language; the forms seemed to impress themselves naturally on my mind, and my memory retained with the greatest ease the multitudes of new terms and expressions which each tongue presented.
i was left behind, gazing out of the window at the funeral procession.
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“the point in which my education differed from that of my companions was that of religion. colonel mentchikoff was a zealous adherent of the greek church, and insisted that his children should be instructed in its doctrine, and also that they should attend worship regularly in the beautiful church of the town. i was exempted from both these requirements, but, as he did not forbid my attendance at them, i formed the habit of being of my own accord present at the lessons in religion which a certain pope gave them twice weekly, and i was frequently present at service in the church on sundays and feast days. hebrew instruction 199i did not receive, and was, to my shame i must confess, utterly ignorant of the teachings of the religion in which i was born and to which my father, on his dying bed, had adjured me to be faithful. i did not, however, feel at all attracted to the teachings of greek christianity. my attendance at church and lessons was induced solely by curiosity, and i often found myself smiling contemptuously at the things my companions were obliged to learn and believe. as i knew and kept nothing of judaism either, i suppose i must have been classed at that time as a youthful heathen.
“after i had been about two years in colonel mentchikoff’s house he told me my father’s story and the reason why he, the colonel, was so friendly to me. my father, it seems, had been a soldier in the russian army most of his life, and had attracted attention because of his gallantry and fidelity. he had taken part in many battles in the caucasus and had risen to the rank of corporal, which was as high as an uneducated man and a jew could aspire. in a fierce hand-to-hand struggle in one of those battles he had saved the life of colonel mentchikoff, who had then, impelled by gratitude, asked him in what way he could recompense him for the great service he had rendered him. 200my father, blessed be his memory, who was as unassuming and modest as he was brave, answered that he desired no recompense for himself, as he had only done his duty in defending his commander, but that he had an only child, a son, whose mother had died while he was yet an infant, and that he, my father, desired, in case he met his death in the war, that the colonel should see that the boy was cared for and properly educated, and if in future years the intolerant laws should be changed and it would be permitted to jews to become military officers, that he should endeavor to have him admitted to the military academy and prepared for the martial career. all this the colonel had willingly promised, and thought it but a slight reward for the saver of his life.
“shortly after my father received his death wound at the hand of one of the savage warriors of the caucasus. he was brought, at his own urgent request, to the house where his little son was living in charge of an old nurse, to pass the few remaining days of his existence; and when he had died he received, in consideration of his exceptional merit, the distinguished honor of a great military funeral. the colonel, had then taken formal charge of me, and ever since i had resided in his home. the colonel assured me 201that he loved me dearly, for the sake of my father, whose memory he held sacred, and that he would do all in his power to promote my welfare and to assist me to embrace the military career as my father had desired. he was as good as his word. until my fourteenth year he cared for me in the most liberal and kind-hearted manner, providing equally well for my physical and intellectual needs, and then, since i had reached the age when youths, intending to take up the military career must begin their studies, he procured my admission into the imperial military academy at st. petersburg. the illiberal laws prohibiting the conferring of commissions on hebrews had not, it is true, been formally abrogated, but the spirit of tolerance was abroad in the land; it was in the days of the good czar alexander ii., who had in so many ways alleviated the lot of all the oppressed peoples of his realm, and so my kind protector and guardian met with no difficulties or discouragements in seeking my admission into the academy. on the contrary, the officials of the institution were exceedingly kind and sympathetic. they received me with open arms as the orphan son of the gallant corporal schwartzfeld, of whose heroic record they were well aware, and as the ward of the well-connected 202and influential colonel mentchikoff. the fact of my being a hebrew was hardly referred to, or, if any casual mention thereof was made, it was accompanied with the statement that that would undoubtedly make no difference in my case, and that, in view of my exceptional recommendations, i need anticipate no difficulty in obtaining a satisfactory appointment when once i had completed my course.
“i took leave of my benefactors with tears and embraces—and to this day i cannot think of colonel mentchikoff and his good, kind family without being deeply moved, for they were noble, true-hearted people, and very good to me—and took up my studies at the military academy. i will not refer at length to my career at the military academy, for now it makes no difference whether i did well or poorly, and, besides, it were foolish for the poor scissors-grinder to boast of the past glories of his life. suffice it to say that i more than held my own in every branch of instruction, and made, besides, a specialty of three subjects. i devoted myself with great zeal to the pursuit of military engineering and languages, and also sought to acquire an expert knowledge of the manufacture and preparation of weapons, both of those which cut and those which discharge projectiles. 203the latter two branches of knowledge i pursued with the idea that they would be particularly useful if ever i became a member of the general staff or obtained some high military political post, when a knowledge of languages, particularly of the slavonic tongues, and ability to criticise the quality of weapons furnished to the army would be invaluable. i thought of myself as a soldier, and a soldier only. to other matters i hardly devoted a thought, so absorbed was i in my preparations for my prospective vocation—least of all to religious loyalty or hebraic traditions. during all the seven years of my attendance at the military academy i never entered a synagogue—in fact, i would not have known what to do had i gone there, for i was utterly ignorant of hebrew and knew nothing of the mode or manner of worship among the jews; i never kept a jewish holiday, never was present at a religious gathering of any kind, for i had given up also my former curiosity concerning christianity; i did not associate with or even know any hebrew; in short, to all intents and purposes, i forgot that i was a jew or had any need to consider the question of my relation to my ancestral faith, and my friends and colleagues at the academy, who were all very liberal-minded and tolerant, did not remind 204me of it in any way. personally i was popular with both teachers and students, and, when the last year of the course began, i received an unofficial intimation from the faculty that, on account of my exceptional proficiency in technical matters, i would be recommended for appointment after graduation as a captain of engineers.
“at last the day of days, long looked for—commencement—arrived. i had passed a splendid examination and was designated valedictorian of the class. the great aula or hall of the academy was filled to overflowing with a brilliant and distinguished assemblage, among them brave men and fair women, bearers of the proudest and most ancient names in russia. at the front of the hall facing the stage sat, in two long rows, the graduates, in their natty uniforms, among them myself. at the front of the stage, at a table on which were flowers, the graduates’ diplomas, and other papers, sat the venerable general popoff, president of the academy, and behind him the faculty and a large number of honored visitors. just before the hour appointed for the beginning of the ceremonies, an orderly entered the hall, strode up to general popoff, saluted in regulation military fashion, handed him a note, saluted again, and retired. i do not know why it was, but a shiver 205of apprehension went through me as i saw this action. i felt instinctively that it concerned me and boded me no good. the general opened the letter, my eyes mustering him painfully the while, and i could see him start as he read its contents. for a moment he sat with his head resting on his hands, evidently plunged in deep thought. then he summoned an attendant and spoke a few words to him. a moment later the attendant stood at my side.
“‘the general desires to speak to you in the room at the side of the stage,’ he said.
“the hot blood surged impetuously to my head and my heart beat violently as i entered the room whither i had been summoned. general popoff was already in and looked at me pityingly as i entered. ‘at your command, general,’ i said, concealing my agitation with a mighty effort and saluting stiffly. the general did not answer, but handed me a paper, evidently the letter which he had just received. it was an official communication, bore the governmental seal, and read as follows:
“‘ministry of war.
“‘to general alexei popoff, president of the imperial military academy.
“‘sir: the receipt of your report certifying to the cadets entitled to graduation and recommending 206the same to various appointments in the army is hereby acknowledged. the same is approved, and you are authorized to issue certificates of graduation to all the cadets therein named, with the exception of cadet schwartzfeld. in his case there appears to be some doubt whether he has been properly baptized in the orthodox church, and you are hereby ordered to withhold his certificate until you have convinced yourself that such is the case.
“‘in the name of the minister,
“‘krasnewitz, secretary.’
“i read the note through two or three times. its contents seemed to burn themselves with letters of fire into my brain. i looked at the general. he did not say anything and appeared deeply agitated. at last i forced myself to address him, and my voice sounded strangely harsh and metallic as i spoke:
“‘what is to be done in this matter, your excellency?’ i said.
“‘my dear boy,’ said the general, and the true note of sympathy rang in his voice, ‘i sent in my report over a month ago, and, not receiving any answer, i thought everything was well and that i could go ahead. i did not think this would happen. there is only one thing that you can do. you must go and have yourself baptized in the orthodox faith, or else you can 207receive neither your certificate nor your appointment, and your career is at an end.’
“‘but how about this evening’s affair?’ i said, and the whole world seemed reeling about me. ‘am i not to receive my certificate? am i not to deliver my valedictory?’
“‘strictly speaking, you should not be permitted to do either,’ said the general, and his voice sounded even more sympathetic than before; ‘but i should be sorry to see you suffer public humiliation. i will tell you what i can do. if you will promise me that to-morrow you will go and be baptized, i will accept your word of honor and you shall receive your certificate and deliver your address. but you must answer me at once,’ and he glanced at his watch, ‘for the hour is growing late and the proceedings must soon begin.’
“my brain seemed to become paralyzed and to lose all power of thought as i listened to the general’s words, kindly spoken, but, oh, so bitter to me. my heart struck at my breast as though it would burst its confines. i longed to give the answer the general desired, but the figure of my dying father, lying outstretched upon his couch of suffering, rose suddenly before me; again i saw his pale face and blood-stained bandages, and again i heard his faint voice saying, 208‘above all, my son, never forget that you are a jew, and never permit anything to swerve you from your faithfulness to the holy traditions of our religion and people’—and i could not.
“‘i cannot give you that promise now, your excellency,’ i said, in a broken voice, whose agonized groaning was perceptible even to me. ‘i must have time to think over the matter.’
“‘in that case,’ said the general, and his voice sounded distinctly harder, ‘i must ask you to leave the hall, where your presence has become improper; and any time you are ready to take the necessary steps you can notify me, and i will see to it that you receive your certificate and appointment.’
“i saluted and retired. i went to my seat, took my military cap, and, without saying a word to my fellow-students, at once left the hall, though i could not fail to notice the buzz of astonishment from both cadets and audience as i strode through the aisle toward the door. that night on my couch i fought a fiercer battle than any in which i could ever have taken part had i been privileged to enter upon my projected career. two opposing forces were arrayed against each other and contended fiercely—on the one side self-interest and the 209disappointment, naturally intense, at seeing an ardently desired career thus cruelly cut off, nipped not even in the bud; on the other side filial devotion and a newly awakened sense of racial and religious loyalty. the one said: ‘why ruin yourself? what does judaism concern you? you have never observed its precepts. let them sprinkle the three drops over you. it is only the ticket of admission to your future. inwardly you can remain as you are.’ the other said little. it was only the pale face of my dying father and his faint voice speaking: ‘above all, my son, never forget that you are a jew, and never permit anything to swerve you from your faithfulness to the holy traditions of our religion and people.’
“all night long the battle raged, while i tossed on my weary couch and never closed an eye; but when the early morning light stole through my lattice, my father had won the victory. i rose, hastily made my toilet, and wrote a letter to the general, informing him that my decision had been made to remain loyal to my faith, even at the cost of my career. on the same day i packed together my belongings and left forever that russia that had grown hateful to me. i sailed at once for america, the land where men are free and where the state does 210not ask what is a man’s descent or religion before permitting him to consecrate his services to it. in new york i found that my talents and knowledge did not avail in securing a position. every place seemed filled and there was no lack of people of education looking unsuccessfully for work. but, fortunately, i understood the art of sharpening and tempering steel blades, and thus i became a knife-sharpener and scissors-grinder, and manage to support myself. now you know why i am in new york, a scissors-grinder and a jew, instead of being in russia, a captain of engineers and a christian. can i sharpen anything else for you to-day? no, next time; all right, good-bye.”
and the scissors-grinder went forth in search of other customers, merrily whistling the while and leaving mendel greenberger behind, plunged in deep reflection.
