“Oh, that Chaim? He died too!” said Hershel in a matter-of-fact-voice, while spearing another piece fish with his fork.
“Chaim died?” shouted the rich man incredulously. “Did you hear that, Malka, Chaim died. Woe is to me. He owes me 500 rubles and now I don’t know if I will ever get it.”
Composing himself, the host asked, “How is Chaim’s partner, Yitzchok? Is he now managing the inn?”
“No!” sighed Hershel, picking up another piece of fish. “He also died!”
“What!” exclaimed the host, visibly shaken and turning white. “Yitzchok is also dead! We are in trouble, Malka. My money is surely gone!”
Continues To Eat
As the rich man continued to rant and rave, Hershel continued to eat. When he finished the fish in the pot he began to take pieces off his host’s plate. The rich man was too shaken up to notice it.
Turning again to Hershel, the rich man asked, “Tell me, maybe you know Avraham, the dry goods merchant? How is he getting along?”
“Which Avraham do you mean?” innocently asked Hershel, who was now stuffing challah into his mouth.
“Don’t you know Avraham, the famous dry goods merchant, who lives near the lake in a big mansion? He is one of the richest men in town,” said the rich man in a trembling voice, fearing that some misfortune may have also befallen him.
“Oh, you mean Avraham, the rich merchant! Yes, I knew him well,” replied Hershel. “He died too!” With that he stuffed another piece of challahin his mouth.
“Are you crazy?” shrieked the rich man, jumping out of his chair and hopping around as if he had gone mad. “You don’t mean to tell me that everybody in Vishnitz has died?”
Looking at his host in a kind way, Hershel moved back in his chair and, stroking his beard, said in a fatherly tone. “My dear friend, when I eat, everybody is as good as dead to me! But my good host, you have been so busy talking that you forgot to eat, and I hate to see anything go to waste, so I ate up your share too. Do you know, you are to be congratulated. Your gefilte fish is the best I have ever eaten anywhere!”