<p>The man in the office wouldn't believe it, and we were
given over in charge of a woman in a dark gray dress and
long white apron, with a red cross on her right arm. She<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></SPAN></span>
led us away and thoroughly searched us all, as well as our
baggage. That was nice treatment, like what we had
been receiving since our first uninterrupted entrance into
Germany. Always a call for money, always suspicion of
our presence and always rough orders and scowls of disapproval,
even at the quickest obedience. And now this
outrageous indignity! We had to bear it all because we
were going to America from a land cursed by the dreadful
epidemic. Others besides ourselves shared these
trials, the last one included, if that were any comfort,
which it was not.</p>
<p>When the woman reported the result of the search as
being fruitless, the man was satisfied, and we were ordered
with the rest through many more examinations and
ceremonies before we should be established under the
quarantine, for that it was.</p>
<p>While waiting for our turn to be examined by the doctor
I looked about, thinking it worth while to get acquainted
with a place where we might be obliged to stay
for I knew not how long. The room where we were sitting
was large, with windows so high up that we couldn't
see anything through them. In the middle stood several
long wooden tables, and around these were settees of the
same kind. On the right, opposite the doctor's office,
was a little room where various things could be bought
of a young man—if you hadn't paid all your money for
other things.<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>When the doctor was through with us he told us to go
to Number Five. Now wasn't that like in a prison? We
walked up and down a long yard looking, among a row
of low, numbered doors, for ours, when we heard an exclamation
of, "Oh, Esther! how do you happen to be
here?" and, on seeing the speaker, found it to be an old
friend of ours from Plotzk. She had gone long before
us, but her ship hadn't arrived yet. She was surprised
to see us because we had had no intention of going when
she went.</p>
<p>What a comfort it was to find a friend among all the
strangers! She showed us at once to our new quarters,
and while she talked to mamma I had time to see what
they were like.</p>
<p>It looked something like a hospital, only less clean and
comfortable; more like the soldiers' barracks I had seen.
I saw a very large room, around whose walls were ranged
rows of high iron double bedsteads, with coarse sacks
stuffed with something like matting, and not over-clean
blankets for the only bedding, except where people used
their own. There were three windows almost touching the
roof, with nails covering all the framework. From the
ceiling hung two round gas lamps, and almost under
them stood a little wooden table and a settee. The floor
was of stone.</p>
<p>Here was a pleasant prospect. We had no idea how
long this unattractive place might be our home.<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>Our friend explained that Number Five was only for
Jewish women and girls, and the beds were sleeping
rooms, dining rooms, parlors, and everything else, kitchens
excepted. It seemed so, for some were lounging on
the beds, some sitting up, some otherwise engaged, and
all were talking and laughing and making a great noise.
Poor things! there was nothing else to do in that prison.</p>
<p>Before mother had told our friend of our adventures,
a girl, also a passenger, who had been walking in the yard,
ran in and announced, "It's time to go to dinner! He
has come already." "He" we soon learned, was the overseer
of the Jewish special kitchen, without whom the
meals were never taken.</p>
<p>All the inmates of Number Five rushed out in less than
a minute, and I wondered why they hurried so. When
we reached the place that served as dining room, there
was hardly any room for us. Now, while the dinner is
being served, I will tell you what I can see.</p>
<p>In the middle of the yard stood a number of long tables
covered with white oilcloth. On either side of each table
stood benches on which all the Jewish passengers were
now seated, looking impatiently at the door with the sign
"Jewish Kitchen" over it. Pretty soon a man appeared
in the doorway, tall, spare, with a thin, pointed beard, and
an air of importance on his face. It was "he", the overseer,
who carried a large tin pail filled with black bread<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></SPAN></span>
cut into pieces of half a pound each. He gave a piece to
every person, the youngest child and the biggest man
alike, and then went into the kitchen and filled his pail
with soup and meat, giving everybody a great bowl full
of soup and a small piece of meat. All attacked their
rations as soon as they received them and greatly relished
the coarse bread and dark, hot water they called soup.
We couldn't eat those things and only wondered how
any one could have such an appetite for such a dinner.
We stopped wondering when our own little store of provisions
gave out.</p>
<p>After dinner, the people went apart, some going back
to their beds and others to walk in the yard or sit on the
settees there. There was no other place to go to. The
doors of the prison were never unlocked except when new
passengers arrived or others left for their ships. The
fences—they really were solid walls—had wires and nails
on top, so that one couldn't even climb to get a look at
the sea.</p>
<p>We went back to our quarters to talk over matters and
rest from our journey. At six o'clock the doctor came
with a clerk, and, standing before the door, bade all those
in the yard belonging to Number Five assemble there;
and then the roll was called and everybody received a little
ticket as she answered to her name. With this all
went to the kitchen and received two little rolls and a<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></SPAN></span>
large cup of partly sweetened tea. This was supper; and
breakfast, served too in this way was the same. Any
wonder that people hurried to dinner and enjoyed it?
And it was always the same thing, no change.</p>
<p>Little by little we became used to the new life, though
it was hard to go hungry day after day, and bear the discomforts
of the common room, shared by so many; the
hard beds (we had little bedding of our own), and the confinement
to the narrow limits of the yard, and the tiresome
sameness of the life. Meal hours, of course, played
the most important part, while the others had to be filled
up as best we could. The weather was fine most of the
time and that helped much. Everything was an event,
the arrival of fresh passengers a great one which happened
every day; the day when the women were allowed
to wash clothes by the well was a holiday, and the few
favorite girls who were allowed to help in the kitchen
were envied. On dull, rainy days, the man coming to
light the lamps at night was an object of pleasure, and
every one made the best of everybody else. So when a
young man arrived who had been to America once before,
he was looked up to by every person there as a superior,
his stories of our future home listened to with delight,
and his manners imitated by all, as a sort of fit preparation.
He was wanted everywhere, and he made the
best of his greatness by taking liberties and putting on<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></SPAN></span>
great airs and, I afterwards found, imposing on our ignorance
very much. But anything "The American"
did passed for good, except his going away a few days too
soon.</p>
<p>Then a girl came who was rather wanting a little
brightness. So all joined in imposing upon her by telling
her a certain young man was a great professor whom
all owed respect and homage to, and she would do anything
in the world to express hers, while he used her to
his best advantage, like the willing slave she was. Nobody
seemed to think this unkind at all, and it really was
excusable that the poor prisoners, hungry for some entertainment,
should try to make a little fun when the chance
came. Besides, the girl had opened the temptation by
asking, "Who was the handsome man in the glasses? A
professor surely;" showing that she took glasses for a
sure sign of a professor, and professor for the highest possible
title of honor. Doesn't this excuse us?</p>
<p>The greatest event was the arrival of some ship to take
some of the waiting passengers. When the gates were
opened and the lucky ones said good bye, those left behind
felt hopeless of ever seeing the gates open for them.
It was both pleasant and painful, for the strangers grew
to be fast friends in a day and really rejoiced in each other's
fortune, but the regretful envy could not be helped
either.<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>Amid such events as these a day was like a month at
least. Eight of these we had spent in quarantine when a
great commotion was noticed among the people of Number
Five and those of the corresponding number in the
men's division. There was a good reason for it. You remember
that it was April and Passover was coming on;
in fact, it began that night. The great question was,
Would we be able to keep it exactly according to the host
of rules to be obeyed? You who know all about the great
holiday can understand what the answer to that question
meant to us. Think of all the work and care and money
it takes to supply a family with all the things proper and
necessary, and you will see that to supply a few hundred
was no small matter. Now, were they going to take care
that all was perfectly right, and could we trust them if
they promised, or should we be forced to break any of the
laws that ruled the holiday?</p>
<p>All day long there was talking and questioning and debating
and threatening that "we would rather starve than
touch anything we were not sure of." And we meant it.
So some men and women went to the overseer to let him
know what he had to look out for. He assured them that
he would rather starve along with us than allow anything
to be in the least wrong. Still, there was more discussing
and shaking of heads, for they were not sure yet.</p>
<p>There was not a crumb anywhere to be found, because<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></SPAN></span>
what bread we received was too precious for any of it to
be wasted; but the women made a great show of cleaning
up Number Five, while they sighed and looked sad and
told one another of the good hard times they had at home
getting ready for Passover. Really, hard as it is, when
one is used to it from childhood, it seems part of the holiday,
and can't be left out. To sit down and wait for supper
as on other nights seemed like breaking one of the
laws. So they tried hard to be busy.</p>
<p>At night we were called by the overseer (who tried to
look more important than ever in his holiday clothes—not
his best, though) to the feast spread in one of the unoccupied
rooms. We were ready for it, and anxious
enough. We had had neither bread nor matzo for dinner,
and were more hungry than ever, if that is possible.
We now found everything really prepared; there were the
pillows covered with a snow-white spread, new oilcloth
on the newly scrubbed tables, some little candles stuck in
a basin of sand on the window-sill for the women, and—a
sure sign of a holiday—both gas lamps burning. Only
one was used on other nights.</p>
<p>Happy to see these things, and smell the supper, we
took our places and waited. Soon the cook came in and
filled some glasses with wine from two bottles,—one yellow,
one red. Then she gave to each person—exactly one
and a half matzos; also some cold meat, burned almost to
a coal for the occasion.<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>The young man—bless him—who had the honor to
perform the ceremonies, was, fortunately for us all, one of
the passengers. He felt for and with us, and it happened—just
a coincidence—that the greater part of the ceremony
escaped from his book as he turned the leaves.
Though strictly religious, nobody felt in the least guilty
about it, especially on account of the wine; for, when we
came to the place where you have to drink the wine, we
found it tasted like good vinegar, which made us all
choke and gasp, and one little girl screamed "Poison!"
so that all laughed, and the leader, who tried to go on,
broke down too at the sight of the wry faces he saw;
while the overseer looked shocked, the cook nearly set
her gown on fire by overthrowing the candles with her
apron (used to hide her face) and all wished our Master
Overseer had to drink that "wine" all his days.</p>
<p>Think of the same ceremony as it is at home, then of
this one just described. Do they even resemble each
other?</p>
<p>Well, the leader got through amid much giggling and
sly looks among the girls who understood the trick, and
frowns of the older people (who secretly blessed him for
it). Then, half hungry, all went to bed and dreamed of
food in plenty.</p>
<p>No other dreams? Rather! For the day that brought
the Passover brought us—our own family—the most glo<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></SPAN></span>rious
news. We had been ordered to bring our baggage
to the office!</p>
<p>"Ordered to bring our baggage to the office!" That
meant nothing less than that we were "going the next
day!"</p>
<p>It was just after supper that we received the welcome
order. Oh, who cared if there wasn't enough to eat?
Who cared for anything in the whole world? We didn't.
It was all joy and gladness and happy anticipation for us.
We laughed, and cried, and hugged one another, and
shouted, and acted altogether like wild things. Yes, we
were wild with joy, and long after the rest were asleep, we
were whispering together and wondering how we could
keep quiet the whole night. We couldn't sleep by any
means, we were so afraid of oversleeping the great hour;
and every little while, after we tried to sleep, one of us
would suddenly think she saw day at the window, and
wake the rest, who also had only been pretending to sleep
while watching in the dark for daylight.</p>
<p>When it came, it found no watchful eye, after all. The
excitement gave way to fatigue, and drowsiness first, then
deep sleep, completed its victory. It was eight o'clock
when we awoke. The morning was cloudy and chilly,
the sun being too lazy to attend to business; now and
then it rained a little, too. And yet it was the most beautiful
day that had ever dawned on Hamburg.<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>We enjoyed everything offered for breakfast, two matzos
and two cups of tea apiece—why it was a banquet.
After it came the good-byes, as we were going soon. As
I told you before, the strangers became fast friends in a
short time under the circumstances, so there was real sorrow
at the partings, though the joy of the fortunate ones
was, in a measure, shared by all.</p>
<p>About one o'clock (we didn't go to dinner—we
couldn't eat for excitement) we were called. There were
three other families, an old woman, and a young man,
among the Jewish passengers, who were going with us,
besides some Polish people. We were all hurried
through the door we had watched with longing for so
long, and were a little way from it when the old woman
stopped short and called on the rest to wait.</p>
<p>"We haven't any matzo!" she cried in alarm. "Where's
the overseer?"</p>
<p>Sure enough we had forgotten it, when we might as
well have left one of us behind. We refused to go, calling
for the overseer, who had promised to supply us, and
the man who had us in charge grew angry and said he
wouldn't wait. It was a terrible situation for us.</p>
<p>"Oh," said the man, "you can go and get your matzo,
but the boat won't wait for you." And he walked off, followed
by the Polish people only.</p>
<p>We had to decide at once. We looked at the old wo<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></SPAN></span>man.
She said she wasn't going to start on a dangerous
journey with such a sin on her soul. Then the children
decided. They understood the matter. They cried and
begged to follow the party. And we did.</p>
<p>Just when we reached the shore, the cook came up
panting hard. She brought us matzo. How relieved we
were then!</p>
<p>We got on a little steamer (the name is too big for it)
that was managed by our conductor alone. Before we
had recovered from the shock of the shrill whistle so near
us, we were landing in front of a large stone building.</p>
<p>Once more we were under the command of the gendarme.
We were ordered to go into a big room crowded
with people, and wait till the name of our ship was called.
Somebody in a little room called a great many queer
names, and many passengers answered the call. At last
we heard,</p>
<p>"Polynesia!"</p>
<p>We passed in and a great many things were done to our
tickets before we were directed to go outside, then to a
larger steamer than the one we came in. At every step
our tickets were either stamped or punched, or a piece
torn off of them, till we stepped upon the steamer's deck.
Then we were ordered below. It was dark there, and we
didn't like it. In a little while we were called up again,
and then we saw before us the great ship that was to carry
us to America.<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />