Small children started on the path to "Judaism" in Baruch Melamed's heder. Some older children still attended one or two studied with Pesah. The two heders were across the street from the big synagogue. Large alphabet tables made of cardboard were (spread out on the benches. The village melamed "Baruch Sobiesral" used his whalebone pointer to indicate the letters. There was a different picture for each letter: "Alef " - a man carrying a load over his shoulders that bowed him down; "Gimel" - a purse. "Learn children, learn. Purses full of silver will fall to you from heaven, "said the rebbeh. The children's eyes glistened, they knew that a single penny could buy them poppy-seed cookies and egg-biscuits (eyer kichlach) at Hayah-Sarah's store. At old Bobsehczyne's, the one with the "horn" on her nose, you could get a cupful of boiled chickpeas. "Dalet" was the flag for Simhat Torah (the Rejoicing in the Law, last day of Tabernacles). All around the letter "Hey" danced Simha the Lame and Ya'acov- Moshe with the short leg. "Het," was the entrance to the heder The "Yod" was so tiny that it crept into one's heart. terminal "Koph" and terminal "Pay" were Yankel Tzaitag's tall lampposts. "Lamed," was the hunchback, Moshe Soifer's wife. "Samech," was the barrel of beer that stood in the priest's window "Ein," a nose and two eyes. The "Shin" was readily visualized: carriage horses with leather blinders and a silver "shin" next to each eye.

The first days in the heder of the pleasant rebbeh were spent in playing alphabet games. Those good and happy days. But once the Torah nursling grew older, he fell onto hard times.

The letters joined forces and became words. There were blessings to be learned as one assumed the yoke of the Law. In a twinkling, the children were transformed into Jews who were obliged to fulfill the various commandments. One could no longer skip a word, eat before praying or forget the fringed garment. All at once, a heavy burden descended on the young shoulders, a yoke of commandments and transgressions, a life full of apprehension, almost like that of the adults.

For many years, Baruch's "heder" led the children on to the heder of Pesah "goatbeard" (kozi-bord). Study of the Pentateuch began with, "Vaikra" (Leviticus) accompanied by a Yiddish translation and an additional explanation. The yoke became heavier. Learning the alphabet was close to one's heart and easy.

The letters represented familiar persons and houses in the children's yards and streets.

While studying, the child's thoughts carried him far from town: to Haran, Padan, Aram, Alonei Mimreh, and to Hebron where Abraham met the sons of Het. They were lulled by the resounding waves of melody that made one's head heavy and forced one's eyes to close. In their minds, they wandered from Or Kasdim to Egypt over a hot and blazing desert. It was terrifying to experience the burdensome dream in the Convenant of Abraham, the dark terror that overcame Abraham, our forefather, and the promise, "I will make of thee a great nation" that caused the Jews so much suffering until this very day.

Suddenly the world was full of demons and evil spirits. At twilight, between Minha and Maariv, the city's skies were set ablaze not by the setting sun but by the fires of Gehinom (hell) where the wicked are roasted and burned.

Synagogue Street was no longer a peaceful lane in which one could see mothers, grandmothers and aunts in black silk dresses and Turkish shawls, and wigs full of combs and beads. It was no longer a place where Jews slowly streamed from the synagogue and the batei rnidrash.

Slowly, slowly everything assumed a different form. When a white dove alighted on the roof of the synagogue, it was a sign that an angel bearing good tidings had appeared. If a star twinkled far off in the dark skies, that was a pure soul meant to join us or leaving us now. The stars are the souls of small brothers and sisters who left us when still young. In those days many innocent little sisters and young brothers departed from each family and ascended to Heaven. One began to have fears and to search the synagogue for demons. Boys in Pesah's heder already knew that every night the dead came to pray in the synagogue. There were children who had seen this with their very own eyes. In the morning frightened children would point out black-and-blue marks on their hands, pinches by the dead.

Shaking hands on a deal with or without striking the palms with the fringed garment were new rungs in the long ladder of virtues, commandments and good deeds. Even when the child played with buttons or nuts, he was not allowed to forget him- self. A Jew was forbidden to cheat, lie or take false oath. He had to be "more humble than the grass and stiller than water" and lovingly accept the melarned's whippings.

This world and the world to come absolutely befuddled the small heads of the young children. Their faces became paler and paler as they continued on the mournful path that led to being good Jews. After a time the boys changed so that one could hardly recognize them. In Baruch's heder they still played games. In Pesah's heder, they boys were well aware of what a Jew was forbidden to enjoy.

In every corner demons lay in wait for a Jewish soul. It was forbidden to start the day without washing one's hands; it was forbidden to eat without having prayed; it was a sin to fall asleep without having recited the "Hamapil" prayer. There is "a watchful eye and all your deeds are recorded."

During the long summer days, small children sat in Pesah's heder and in other heders until dark. In winter they sat there till late at night. The heder was their entire life. How pleasant it was for the boys to be together. Love awakened for their teacher. The boys enjoyed the tall tales that they told one another between the Minha and Ma'ariv prayers.

One must not sit on the stone near Simha Nitzkin's house, a dybbuk might possess one's body. The "Hanei Inshei" (demons) live in the well. Brave boys bent over the well and dared to sound a few words into it, then fled, until the echo faded. When Pelteh, Sarah's son, travelled from Chorzel to Mlawa, with his own eyes he saw a calf lying in the middle of the road. His father picked up the animal and put it in his wagon when suddenly, there was a peal of laughter. The creature stood in the middle of the road, stuck out its long, red tongue and laughed and laughed. Another time, a sheep was lying in the road. Palteh's father and the other passengers rushed to lift the animal but not even the whole lot of them could budge it.

At night the children were afraid to walk in the dark alone. That is why they left the heder together, holding tin lanterns with kerosene or candles burning inside. In order to dispel their fears they would yell out: "Haim - where are you? Are you there already? Have you reached the stairs? Are you at the door? "Haim would reply, "I'm here," and his escorts then continued on their way until yet another one had reached his house. The children were afraid of the "Baba-yaga" (witch).

On winter nights the lights of the lanterns shimmered along the alleys and back streets. Each flame accompanied a little Jew on his way home from the heder where every day he was let into the world of Judaism.

The hoders prepared the Jewish children for a life of patience, a life of avoiding blows, of bearing the yoke of their faith. That was the nature of things and that was how it was meant to be.

From rebbeh Pesah one advanced to the Unearned (teacher) from Ciechanow, to the Ostrowite, to Mehl, to Moishe-Aron, Ya'akov Winiver and Itcheleh Czizewer. Wealthier children studied with Meir Shlomo, the official Rabbi from Wolka. The children of the poor studied in the "Talmud Torah." There were many different sorts of melamdim. Some pulled the boys by the ear, others pinched, whipped with a lash or leather strap. One made them stand in a corner holding a broom, another did not insist on the broom but preferred a saucepan on the pupil's head and sometimes made the child pull down his trousers as well.

The Learn worked hard all week and lived like beggars. Saturdays they visited their pupils and posed questions. During the examination, the rnelamed's heart beat just as fast as the child's. If the boy did not know the answers, it was the rnelamed's fault and there was a good possibility that the father would not let the child attend the heder for an additional "spell of time." That was why the melamdim labored so hard all week long, using both the carrot and the stick to force some Torah into the boys' heads.

In the crooked back street between Jedneralska and Plock Streets, next to Yosef Czarka's mill and adjacent to Ya'akov Shlomo Mondrzak's bustling yard, right next to Abraham Terzer's entrance and to many granaries, rebbeh David Gordon began to educate the children of Israel according to a new system. He had a few pupils, the children of the well-to-do. Gordon taught without benefit of a whip. He neither hit nor embarrassed a child by public punishment. He won over his pupils' hearts by his moderation, composure and authority. The parents respected him and had faith in him. Both Gordon and the parents were hounded by the Hassidim, who still controlled the town. But the Has- sidim's attempts were of no avail. Gordon's heder remained standing.

Even Gordon's appearance and that of his heder were different. Gordon was tall, calm, and had a beard that was starting to turn white. He was dressed neatly and in good taste. He carefully weighed each word he spoke and gave the impression of a person with self-respect and self-confidence. Gordon aroused the respect and faith of those around him. He was not to be compared with the other melamdim in town, not in knowledge nor in appearance.

They barely eked out a living and were looked down on. Gordon's heder was clean and separate from his living quarters. The other heders were in the mefamdim's homes and sometimes, a part of the kitchen (the wife's domain).

In Gordon's heder the lessons were set according to a schedule and there was a recess between one lesson and the next. Also, the pupils did not study for as many hours as in the other heders. They learned Bible, Hebrew, Jewish History and secular subjects. Gordon gradually fostered in the hearts of his pupils a love for the Land of Israel, for the Hebrew language and for the Jewish national holidays. These were happy days of freedom for the Jewish children in town. But,Gordon's work ended cruelly and tragically. On a gloomy night in 1914, savage Cossacks burst into his apartment and shot him and his son, Anszel, to death. Blumkin, the teacher, who was in the apartment at the time, was wounded.

During this period, the teacher Raphael Gutman settled in town. After some years he became famous throughout Poland as a pedagogue, headed a teacher's seminary, was the inspector of all the Jewish schools in the Warsaw community and was the celebrated author of many textbooks.

Raphael Gutman was not content with a one-room heder. With true Lithuanian stubborness, he founded a heder for over one hundred children. Gutman was a man of presence not commonly found in Mlawa. He did away with the caftan and even with his long beard. He was an energetic Jew who wore a short jacket and a stiff black hat. Only a hint of a beard decorated his smiling and clever face. He chose to open his reformed heder ("heder metukan") in the house of a Gur Hassid, David Henoch Fraenkel, on Nieborg Street. The Hassidim called it "heder mesukan" (dangerous heder), a play on words. The boder's course of study and its appearance suggested a modern school. It was divided into classes and the pupils sat in pairs on benches, just as in a real school. The secular lessons were taught bare- headed; only Hebrew, Bible and Talmud were taught in skullcaps. As far as most of the townsfolk were concerned, this was con- version. "Why send your son to Gutman? Better take him to be converted directly," they would say to the teachers, pupils and to the parents who dared to send their children to Gutman's school. They were expelled from the Hassidic houses of prayer and placed outside the pale. All these people lost their friends and intimates; their lives were ruined.

* Hebrew was taught using the method Hebrew-Hebrew (without translating into Yiddish). In the higher grades the pupils spoke Hebrew among themselves. After each lesson there was an intermission. The ringing of the bell announced the beginning and the end of each session. In each class there were monitors who saw to it that the premises were kept clean and orderly. There were singing lessons and gymnastics, a novelty for the Jewish children. The pupils were taken on hikes and excursions. They had a summer vacation, just as in any modern school. On Hanukah and Purim the children staged plays for the parents. There was a library in the school and the children became accustomed to reading books. Well known magazines and children's periodicals such as "Prahim" (Flowers) "Nitzanim" (Buds), "Bikurim" (First Fruits), "Hashahar" (The Dawn) and "Ben Shahar" (The Morning Star), were passed from one child to the next. In Gutman's heder, "Hatikva" was sung and heard for the first time.

Later there was Levin, a Lithuanian Jew who was a great scholar. He traveled around the Yeshivot. He did not grow a beard. Gutman and Levin's wisdom and learning opened the doors to many religious Jewish homes. People enjoyed discussing the fine points of religious law with the two sharp-witted Lithuanians. One just had to respect them. They were appreciated by their friends and even the Mitnagdim held them in regard.

The reformed heder undermined the weight of the old boder and helped precipitate its end. In order to survive and to avoid being closed, two hours a week of secular lessons were introduced. The Hassidim founded a religious school for girls, "Bet Ya'akov." But all this was in vain. New ways of life, new ideals captured the Jewish street. The heder, like anything else out-dated, had reached the end of the road.

The natural continuation of the modern and reformed heders was the Yiddish and Hebrew secular elementary schools and high schools throughout Poland. All these educational institutions, both the heder and the secular schools, became Jewish strongholds. The Jews financed them and determined the cur- ricula. These schools were of no interest to the Gentile authorities. The elementary schools that the government au- thorities established for the Jews had nothing in common with Judaism, neither in principle nor in program. For many years there were two elementary schools in Mlawa for the children of "the followers of the faith of Moses," directed by Moshe Golomb and, later, by Moshe Laski. At first, only Jewish teachers taught there; later, the teaching staff included Christians as well. The lessons were in Polish.

Yiddish was the language of instruction in the heder. In Gordon's heder, the lessons were taught both in Yiddish and in Hebrew; in the reformed heder only in Hebrew, except for the other schools Polish was used, except for the Jewish subjects.

In 1917 the Jews of Mlawa finally had a Jewish gymnasium. It was established by the Zionist activists: Berish Perlmutter, Haim Eliyah Perla, Motteh Greenberg, Mendel Aks, and Koppel Pizicz.

From an overall, cultural point of view, the gymnasium was a big achievement for the Jewish youth of Miawa and the sur rounding towns. The Jews greatly benefitted from this situation. But, at the same time, there was no lack of criticism. There were those who maintained that a trade school was preferable - it was more suitable and of better purpose for the Jewish youth. And indeed, after some time, the gymnasium built workships. Others found fault with the curriculum, with instruction in the Polish language, and giving in to the authorities, in order to enjoy state privileges. They called the gymnasium "a small factory for matriculation degrees." The Polish universities were at any rate closed to the Jews. Continuation of one's education abroad was possible only for the wealthy, they claimed. After graduating high school, most of the youth again stood at the crossroads with no chance for any future. The majority was not interested in learning for learning's sake, claimed the critics.

In spite of all these objections, the gymnasium developed from year to year. Youth from all levels of society in the city and in its surroundings, streamed to study there.

The gymnasium's beginnings were where the tar pit was, near the Mikveh and the stream, rzeka, bordering the Jewish area that extended, like a chain, from Synagogue Street and past the heders, the Hassidic houses of prayer, and the Mikveh. The red building provoked and aroused the wrath of the Gur Hassidim. They came enrnasse, took over the building and used it for the city "Talmud Torah." From then on, the "Judaism" circle was closed once again. Actually, the "Talmud Torah" was no longer what it had been in previous years. There too, secular subjects were taught. The melamdim even dared to make a strike there. But the "Talmud Torah" remained an institution in which the melamdim were forced to suffer the heavy yoke of the despotic beadles.

In its later years and until the very end, the gymnasium housed in the Pizicz building, in a Gentile neighborhood, next to the two Polish high schools. Girls and boys studied together in the Jewish gymnasium.

The gymnasium's first years were honeymoon years. Under the directorship of Haim Millenband and the teachers: Goldberg, Merker, Wohlfrost, Czerski and others, the students, teachers, and parents comprised a tight unit. In time other teachers were accepted. The institution expanded and tried to obtain state benefits which, in the end, it did receive. But slowly, the atmosphere in the gymnasium changed. From a general, cultural point of view, the gymnasium undoubtedly was an achievement. Children from 0 levels of the Jewish population obtained an education and, to a certain degree, in Jewish studies, as well. This would not have been possible except for the gymnasium. Some students contained their education at Polish universities, and abroad. The entire course of life of the city's youth drastically changed during the twenty two years of the gymnasium's exist- ence. Many of its students would find difficulty remembering that the gymnasium was a bridge between the heder and the university.

Officially, the gymnasium was under the supervision of the Polish Ministry of Education. It, in fact, served as a center for the Jewish cultural and social institutions. "Hashomer Hatzair " head- quarters were in this building. "Wizo," The Jewish Women's Federation, the drama club, lectures, all theatre performances, meetings of all the political parties, social gatherings, Keren Kayemeth (Jewish National Fund) bazaars and other events - were all held in its halls.

There was a dormitory for external students right next to the gymnasium. The city's entire concepts and ways of life had changed so that even the children of religious and of non-progressive families, for whom the gymnasium had once been "trayf" (tabu),attended this school.

Yizhak Hirschhorn was its last principal and also taught there.

The Jewish back streets and Mikveh Square seemed to be embraced by the two, long arms of Warsaw and Plock Streets The German murderers utilized that limited area for a ghetto within which they confined all the Jews of Mlawa and its surroundings.

The two arms, together with the alleys, reflected the character of the city's Jewish life. Each yard, each house, and each individual made its contribution to this special, cozy atmosphere. Certainly architects and civil engineers had taken very little pains in constructing the streets and houses. Each house was built wherever its owner so fancied, and according to his particular taste. And the result? The streets were crooked, the houses built in the "original" architectural style of each owner. If one looked at the one, and two-story wooden buildings, covered with all sorts and colors of oil paint, green and blue, yellow and gray, one could readily picture their creators. Like its owners, each house differed from all the others. Each of the inhabitants had ways and custom of his very own. But, all together, the houses were small and simple and reflected a quiet and modest way of life.

Not very readily could the residents of the wooden houses have adjusted to the big stone buildings in which every- thing seemed so strange and cold. The little balconies and the wooden steps responded to each tread with a creak and a sigh. The small windows, the half-dark rooms with their heavy, solid furniture, the kitchens and the wide benches for sleeping, the cooking pots and the copper pans on the walls - all these had something comfortable and snug about them. The houses were partners to their tenants' lives for many years and represented a considerable investment of their time.

Here was a yard with no gates, only half a gate suspended on heavy iron hinges and weeds growing among the stones. Another yard was fenced off and closed except for a wicket gate that barely opened. Here and there was an open yard that seemed meant for public use. In the middle there would be a well from which people drew water as they passed from street to street. Just by looking at a yard one could point out its owners.

Small crooked doors were suspended in front of narrow entrances to wide-open stores. In front of several of the stores there were small, glass doors with thin, iron handles. Some of the stores were closed with heavy locks, others with small chains. At the entrance to Plock Street, there were inns on either side of the street. There the peasants stayed when they came to the fairs with their horses and wagons. The owners of the inns were, Abraham Terzer, Mendel Cohen and Yizhak Eichler.

The upper portions of the inns with their little roofs and turrets looked strange and out of place. Without benefit of clanging entrance bells, the small doors would open and Jews step out. They were husky porters who, with a swing of their arms, would sweep sacks of flour from the smooth boards in the granaries straight into the heavy wagons.

A few steps away there was a store right out of a fairy tale. Black Yospa, who looked as though she had just stepped out of the Bible, brought out handfuls of wonderful and rare fruit: dates, figs, carobs, peanuts and pistachios, almonds, grapes, oranges, and many more which we could not name. One would look at these delicacies with longing. Since they were very costly, one could at least inhale their pleasant aroma that filled the air outside the shop. Boys put away one penny after another and sometimes, in partnership, bought a piece of fruit. They took bits in turn: "One for you, one for me," and while so doing, each suspected that the other had taken a bigger bite than he. Yospa's store in the middle of Plock Street served as live greetings from the Land of Israel.

For many years, bad-tempered Aharon-Yosef Narzemski lived next to Yospa. His little rooms and his corridor were always full of old clothes brought from Germany. Aharon-Yosef had an only son, Ya'akov-Moshe. He was pale and thin with a neatly trimmed, black beard. He wore a Jewish cap made of cloth and a three-quarter length black capote. His stiff, white collar and long, black tie testified that Ya'akov-Moshe did not ad- here to the conventional ways of young men his age. A fire kindled in his soul. He was totally dominated by the two great ideals that, in those days, began to glorify the Jewish street: human emancipation in general, and Jewish emancipation in particular. He would hop around on his lame leg in the various circles and at underground meetings. In 1905, when a crowd of Jews and Poles assembled in the market place, Ya'akov-Moshe courageously addressed them from a raised platform. While he was still talking, Cossacks grabbed hold of him and, in front of all those gathered there, beat him up. That was but a part of the punishment. He paid for his Zionist-Socialist activities with a term in prison, and tuberculosis. He died before his time.

During the last years of his life he went about ostracized, surrounded by silence, like a stranger among friends. And if, once in a while, he did go to visit some relatives, they would become silent in mid-word. They couldn't forgive him for the shame he had caused his family. People were afraid of him, they distrusted him. "He's worse than a goy," they said. "Even a goy believes in something, and he doesn't believe in anything." People thus sought to justify their hostility to Ya'akov-Moshe.

In a yard on the other side of the street, a little way down the hill, lived Yankev-Herzl Galant. He used to add to himself and members of his family as many names as possible. It was enough for someone in town to say Yankev -Herzl and everyone knew that he was referring to a tall, emaciated Jew whose face looked as though it had been strewn with ashes and at any moment he would burst out crying. Even his beard showed no hint of Hassidic liveliness. It was a stiff, colorless, sandy beard whose hairs seemed to be attached with pins to his pale, wan face. His looks could be attributed to his frequent shrieking, his devout- ness, his weeping and wailing over the Destruction of Jerusalem.

During the week Yankev-Herzl dealt in sacks. A long time ago when he had been young, after the dowry money had come to an end, like others in his position he became a melamed. His sons, may it not happen to us, did not live long. The first son lucky enough to attain bar-mitzvah, was dressed in white. He had no fewer than four names, Haim, Nathan, Simha-Binem. Yankev took the same opportunity to provide himself as well with additional names: Ya'akov, Naftali, Herzl, and to his wife's name he added, Hava, Hayah and Feiga. Apparently this combination worked and Haim-Nathan-Simha-Binem flourished and opened the way to more and more children.

After finishing each portion of the Pentateuch, all the boys in Ya'akov-Herzl's heder had to rise and say in a loud voice: "Haim, Nathan, Simha, Binem, the son of Hava, Hayah, Feiga and Reb Ya'akov, Naftali-Herzl - may he live to a ripe old age."

In appearance and behavior Ya'akov Herzl was very much like his friend Binem-Shiyeh's from the Alexandrowite shtibbl. Binem Shiyeh's was a devoted and naive Hassid, innocent in worldly affairs. People liked to joke and made him the butt of many con-dc anecdotes. Once he needed to buy a chicken to use for kaparot (expiatory sacrifice of a chicken before the Day of Atonement). He wanted to know if before him was a rooster or chicken. With his feeble knowledge of Polish, he asked the goya: 'Wsi to ia, tsi to ti" (Is it I or is it you?). He took great care to keep the proper distance from a woman. (i.e. 4 cubits).

Apart from the regular long and short fast days, Ya'akov Herzl also fasted every Monday and Thursday. Night and day he studied the Torah. He did not manage to finish his preparations for praying until noon. He ate only twice a day but he did not skip a single Hassidic feast. He rejoiced his soul in the Hassidic festivities. After a gulp of brandy, Naftali Herzl would always drink some oil in order to prevent the alcohol from going to his head.

The Galant family, Ya'akov Herzl and Itcheh Mendel Galant, were descended from the Cabbalist Galanti family of Safed, from Rabbi Abraham Galanti, the author of "Kol Bohim" (The Voice of Weeping").

For many years, clever Viteh (Lipinski) was forced to raise four children through her own efforts. She was not particularly impressed by her neighbors on either side of the street. This was her attitude to all the respectable Jews. During her lifetime, which had not been at all easy, she had acquired numerous wise sayings that she recited from time to time: "You have and you give, and you find favor. You don't have and you don't give, and you don't find favor. And that's all there is to it."

The convert Wishinski boasted that a Jewish storekeeper had intended to cheat him. One of the partners had asked the other,"How much does it cost?" "Kaf-hey,(25)" was the answer But to him they said that the price was thirty. Never ever had

kaf-hey been thirty, said Wishinski.

The Blum family from Plock Street was privileged to supply the city both with "bread" and "Torah." In addition to Lederberg and Cegla, it was Yankel Blum who for many years attracted most of the students and adults to his bookstore. He was the principle book distributor. In those years, his mother, the Baker, supplied the town with bread.

The bakeries in town carried the women's names. Well known were the following: Golda the Baker, in the cellar next to Yankel Kozik, Mindel (Herman) the Baker, on Synagogue Lane, Malka the Baker (Kleinbard) on Chorzel Street, and Sima the Honey-Cake Baker. Sima had only to enter someone's house and everyone knew a wedding celebration was in sight.

Baile the Baker travelled a long way from Plock Street in Mlawa to Rashi Street in Tel-Aviv, via the mixed neighborhood of Jews and Arabs in Neveh Shalom. When a native Mlawian came to Palestine or when someone from Mlawa was out of work, he would temporarily receive bed and board at Beila the Baker's.

Her house was always open.

A long time ago, wise Reb Tuvia Dayan had lived in her house. He was the adviser and confidant of the Alexander shtibbl. Across the way, at Pessiah the Baker's, lived Aharon Podgrajever (Chabanski), a Gur Hassid.

In the adjoining yard, Abraham the Rope-Maker and his son spun rope. They wore linen work coats and large red-stained

aprons made of sacks.

The goats in the street used to nibble undisturbed on the advertisements and announcements pasted on the walls of the kiosk next to the yard. Behind one of the walls, the wife of Eliyah the Rag-Picker, sold fruit. From there to the end of the street there were small, wooden huts that looked like scraps of rusty iron. Inside them lived: Berl Ovadieh's,Shmuel Olevnik who pressed linseed oil from flax, the glazier Gotliebowski, Shlomo who stitched shoes - ordinary people.

Standing in close proximity to the huts were the houses of wealthy Mendel Kudzborski and Yeshayah Mondri. Kudzborski's large yard had a Gentile appearance. It was full of agricultural machinery for the goyim only. In contrast, Shayah Mondri's house appeared Jewish. It was a big house made of wood that looked like two houses, one standing piggyback on the shoulders of the other. The lower part housed a wholesale grocery concern, in the upper lived Shayah Mondri, his sons and grandsons. Downstairs one could always see people who had come from the nearby villages to buy goods, or upstairs - people weak from hunger, who had come to eat their fill.

In Shayah Mondri's home the table was set during the entire day. It was the custom of the house to receive guests at all times. Here they were always welcome. This was the only house of means in town distinguished for its hospitality. One might say that Shayah Mondri was like "Kalba Savua."

Shayah Mondri was a handsome Jew, a philanthropist and a devoted Gur Hassid. When the Gur Rabbi passed through town, he stayed at Shaya Mondri's house.

One of the leaders of "Agudat Israel" came from this house. The Orthodox movement, which was established in Poland under the influence of the German Rabbis, was opposed to all the movements that began in the Jewish quarter. It was also against emigration to the Land of Israel.

Pinhas Mondri was one of the first leaders of the Orthodox movement to visit Palestine. In spite of his opposition to all the Zionist movements, he was one of the few in his camp who forced his movement to include the question of Eretz Yisrael in its platform.

Near the orchard adjoining Plock Road lived David Optatowski and Avrum-Yizhak Wishinski, the accountant for Shayah Mondri's business. Opposite them lived Mendel Kikeleh. These three were the last inhabitants of Plock Street. Their houses were the last buildings on that street and the first houses at the beginning of Strzegowo Road and Shrensk Road.

One edge of the city's forest reached Yanewo, Chorzel and even further. The other side neared Neidenberg, AUenstein and the vicinity of East Prussia. The forest started out near Roda and extended for dozens of miles all around.

The forests would have continued forever if not for the people who surveyed them and determined that in these thick woods Russia's territory ended and that of Germany began. Deep furrows were dug in the ground, border stones placed there and soldiers dressed in green were posted on the border to guard the pits and stones that separated the two countries.

As usual, the forests were green in spring and summer, white and covered with snow in the winter. Among the trees grew thousands of species of flowers. Animals and insects made their homes on the trees and many different birds chirped and flew about there.

When a forest serves as a border, many strangers appear who move about quietly and stealthily. They pray for a dark night, for a pouring rain, for the moon to be hidden by clouds, and for raging winds so that the green soldiers will not notice them as they cross the border, so that they will be neither seen nor heard. If one of them encounters a green solider, one of the two must give way or else move on into the next world. Once there was such an incident involving a Jew from Mlawa who did not want to retreat and who sent the green-garbed soldier to kingdom come. He tied the green one's body and his rifle to one of the trees so that it could continue to stand there and keep watch. This same Jew later erected a besmedresh in the city, put a fence all around the new cemetery and erected an ohel (a special structure built over the graves of Tzaddikim) over the old Rabbi's grave.

There is no need to be stubborn and have to shoot right next to the border. One can reach a compromise. It is possible to negotiate and reach an agreement with the green soldiers and include them in the action. That makes it possible to cross the border from either side without interference until, once again, there is some hitch.

The forest was a source of income for many people in town. True enough, such a livelihood was not an easy one and it involved danger and moral degradation. Mighty forces guarded the city and made sure it would not turn into a center for smuggling.

Together with the counterband goods from across the border, new concepts and ways of life began to penetrate the city.

One shouldn't think that the border was a sort of "Klondike" to which people rushed in search of gold. To the few Jewish ways of earning a living, another was added. A narrow crack appeared and the Jews burst through it in spite of all -the dangers involved, because they had no alternative. The border created new means of livelihood.

A young man would wander about town with no work in sight. There was nothing left of the dowry he had received and, perhaps, he had never received one. Life had become tedious. Until he married, he was a student in the Hassidim's Yeshiva (Talmudical academy). The Torah was his goods, his only possession. Now, suddenly, there was a millstone around his neck, a wife and children. What was he to do? He got a "pass" and began "to travel."

In the dark of night, before the sun had risen, one could see thin, young Yeshiva students, unattached women, and young widows, turning towards the Prussian border. Thin and lean they infiltrated before sunrise, large and fat they returned in the evening. Throughout the day, the hearts of the young women at home would tremble with fear: "God willing he should cross safely."

And when they succeeded in their mission, the young men returned in the evening and peeled off trousers, short jackets and coats, without end. Each of them tried to load his thin body with as much clothing as possible in one trip, with all the -dangers and expenses involved. Women draped themselves in silk and smuggled gold watches and diamonds. If they had bad luck and were caught, it was a nasty business. For the most part, the border was "ours," meaning - the border guards had been bribed. From time to time there was an incident, the goyim confiscated the goods and in addition, "bestowed" generous blows. Veteran smugglers, like fish in water, sensed the dangers of the border, avoided being caught, and succeeded in slipping away.

In town, Hassidic Jews, respectable citizens and wealthy merchants awaited the young people and their goods. An extensive trade in used silk clothing and gold developed in town.

The "trips" across the border, the short garb, the risks involved the encounters with a totally different world and its foreign customs, removed the Yeshiva boys from the bosoms of their patriarchal families. New ideas and ambitions slowly crept, unnoticed, into their heads and hearts.

After some time had passed one could meet some of these young smugglers now active in various social and political institutions. Others, not many, fell into the slough of demoralization.

The trade in horses was on an entirely different scale. Not every young Hassid who was out of work was capable of smuggling horses across the border. It required expertise. Close to the border there was extensive trade in horses. In town there were respectable citizens such as the Wiur family, Freidenberg, Lichter, and Yoseph Domkiewicz who dealt in horses. Their trade extended throughout the country and abroad. No one thought it in bad taste. The lively trade in stolen horses was well described by Opatoshu in his book, "The Horse Thieves." Horse thieves like Kivke Pareh and Gradid, the hurdy-gurdy man, occasionally stole a horse from a stable and sneaked it across the border. But this was only for "amateurs," when they had the chance. "Big-time" professional horse thieves were called "kradnikim." This profession was passed on from father to son. Not only were they horse thieves but also mayvins and great lovers of horses. For many years they headed this trade across the border.

In the course of time, this was all forgotten. One of them had the privilege of becoming the beadle of the large synagogue, in place of the respectable Yosef Rodak.

The pinnacle of this trade was reached in smuggling "little sea wolves" ("hechtlech"). It involved an extensive network of Jews and Gentiles, among them many top government officials and army men, that stretched out from the depths of Russia to Mlawa. For many years this organization dealt in the transfer of young army deserters, political dissenters, illegal residents across the border. In town, these travelers were called "little sea wolves." From time to time, the city became full of hundreds of young outsiders from all over Russia. They would wait in town for a "propitious border hour." In town the streets trembled under the wheels of the heavy wagons of Yanket Glotzer, Feivesh Domb and Zureh the Wagoner which were packed and loaded with "little sea wolves." They streamed to the border and from there, on to America and other countries across the sea.

The police, the gendarmerie, the border's military guard and their officers and commanders were generally in the "pockets' of those in charge of the transactions involved in the smuggling of the "little sea wolves." Sometimes the -fate of a provincial minister or of a top official, i.e. whether he remained in office or was exiled to the wilds of Russia, depended on the Jewish bosses of these deals. When the smugglers wanted to be rid of a goy who didn't understand the setup, they managed to have him exiled. The border once again was "ours." If there was some hitch and they were detected, there were two alternatives: to plead "let us return" or to charge across the border under a fusillade of bullets from the other side.

Jews from all sectors of the population and from different social standings milled around the border. Slowly the city became the commercial center of the neighboring towns and attracted Jewish merchants, teachers, melamdim and clerks from many cities, even those far away. The encounter with the outside world served to set Mlawian Jewry onto a secular road.

The Jewish political refugees who had just arrived in town from Russia or Lithuania, brought with them something totally new. Among all the towns, Mlawa excelled in secularism, intelligentsia, and greater understanding of the aspirations of the time.

The social life, the various social and political institutions, the Mlawian representatives of all the executive committees of all the Jewish political parties and movements in Poland, show us that the city of Mlawa was not corrupted by the illegal border activities. It seems that honesty and integrity were deeply rooted in Mlawa's Jewish community and prevented the city from becoming merely a center for smuggling.

Fifty odd years after Stephenson's invention, Mlawa finally had its own train. Once every two hours, both day and night, the train's sharp whistle pierced the stillness of the city air. The engines blew and panted. Even though the train station was several miles removed from town, the engine's warm breath extended to the city.

All sorts of trains raced through, a local ("Bumbler"), an express, and a freight train. All of a sudden the world was within reach. Before then it took half a week to get to Warsaw by wagon. Now the trip took less than four hours. But this was appreciated only much later. At first, the Jews were afraid to ride the train, even when, at first, one could travel without a ticket. But, in time, people slowly got used to the new "ukase" and traveled more often by rail. In town, any innovation was considered a decree. Formerly, the Jews declared a Fast Day (Ta'anit) when the authorities ordered that the sewers be white-washed.

In those days the train ride was a complicated affair. People literally did not understand how one rode a train. It was told that one Mlawian Jew sat for many hours at the train depot and wondered why he had not yet reached Warsaw. It's not in vain that one says: "The heavenly fools."

The train became a turning point in the town's life. New means of livelihood sprouted up that had to do with trains. New faces appeared, merchants and clerks from foreign parts. Wiur, and Tikulsker opened hotels and restaurants for the travelers coming from so far away. The Jews of Mlawa set out much more readily for other cities. New government institutions appeared in town. Slowly the patriarchal forms of life began to disappear.

Before the advent of the train, transportation between the city and the outside world was in Jewish hands. Every Saturday evening one could see the Jewish coachman loading their merchandise on to their wagons and bringing passengers to Plock or Warsaw. At the end of the week they returned from far off places, loaded with people and various goods. Thus they conveyed both passengers and merchandise. For many years Yankel "Gloczer" (Zimmerman), Zureh the Wagoner, Feivush Domb (Black Feivush) and his sons Haim and Yizhak, spent their lives on far away roads between Mlawa, Plock and Warsaw. They used to bring a human cargo of prospective in-laws for purposes of interviews and marriages. Each driver had his own concession for driving families to weddings.

Feivush's. appearance in someone's house was ample proof that a happy occasion was in the offing. Anyone who saw him dressed in his "burka" (heavy jacket) and wearing his wide, red belt and high boots was convinced that Feivush could bring him anywhere without any mishap. He had sharp eyes and the power to see into the distance. He was not one for talking much with the passengers during the ride. If a word did escape his lips, it was a word of praise for the horses or a clownish remark referrring to his passengers.

In the forest, the horses' gait was slow and easy. Feivush did not urge them on. He took pleasure in the forests of Skwilna, Aklew and Mostow. He arranged many matches and had the couples meet in the forests. The pungent scents of the woods lulled both man and beast. When travelling via a different route he would sometimes say: "The goyim are morons. They call this place 'Cierpiena,' the Holy Virgin appeared before them here. The real truth is that one winter's night hungry wolves pursued a Jew. In order to save himself, the Jew climbed a tree. Suddenly he remembered it was Hanukah. He lit Hanukah candles on the tree. From afar the goyim saw the lights twinkling and cried out: 'The Holy Virgin has come.' Ever since, the goyim from these surroundings like to come here to 'Cierpiena.' "

After many years goods were transported long distances by train. Before then to get to Warsaw, the merchandise had been shipped on the Wisla river through Plock, or overland via Plonsk. Passengers and goods were still delivered by wagon to the towns in the vicinity: Biezun, Plonsk, Szeps, Racionz, and even Plock, Makow, Prusznic, Pultusk and Osrolenka.

Since the train station was several miles removed from town, there was room for transportation of passengers and merchandise between the depot and the town.

Zalel Dugo, Fishel Dugo, Simha Sureh's and Berish Itcheh Mendel's (Galant) delivered the following merchandise to the trains: wheat, flour, uncured hides, scrap iron, bricks and logs. From there they took back, machinery, groceries, dry goods and liquor.

Dozens of Jewish porters found means of livelihood round the drivers. They transferred wheat from granaries to carts, loading it onto freightcars, and the reverse.

Berish, a pleasant boy from a Hassidic home, formerly would have been a melamed or else, turned to "border trade." Thanks to the Socialist-Zionist movement in town, people had a different attitude toward physical labor, different from that during Hassidic times.

A few goyim also transported goods to the train. But this was mainly Jewish work as was inter-city transportation.

In addition, Jews made a living from "fleet" horses and small carts that delivered merchandise within the city. Everybody knew Moteleh and his nag, and Koitcheh and his nag. The owners of the small wagons were all hapless Jews with freckled, dirty faces from which descended wild red beards. Their nicknames, "Moteyeh and his horsey," did not, God forbid, express any special affection for these creatures. Rather, it emphasized their misery and that of their hungry and emaciated horses, and their shabby carts.

Transportation to and from the train station produced a new occupation - the coachman's trade. Wearing leather caps with goyish, lacquered visors and dressed in long, blue cloth cloaks, the drivers sat on high boxes in the coaches and drove through town. The horses, decorated with pieces of metal and brass, were equipped with leather bits. Their eyes were covered with something resembling leather eyeglasses. Two lanterns blinked on either side of the carriage, there was a red number in front, another in the rear, a folding top and a warm blanket with a lining to cover the feet. That's how the carriages looked as they traveled to the military reviews in front of the Municipality. Once the review was over, the horses raced and pulled the carriages back along the city streets. It was like "Green Thursday" when the goyim got together as they came back, riding their horses, from the "border." After the parade was over, the coachmen, as usual, returned home in their carriages to Warsaw Street.

On a regular weekday, Jewish and Gentile carriages stood in a long line in the New Market and waited for passengers to the train station. Men of substance were picked up from home by the coachmen.

Well-to-do Jews or merchants who wanted to get to the train in the middle of the night or at dawn, had coachmen of their own to rouse them: Mordechai, Avrum Kop, Koitcheh, Leibel with the mole, Shiyeh Szkop and David Ya'aneh. Of all the trades, the nicest and most respectable was that of carriage coachman. The government saw to it that the carriages, coachmen and horses were presentable. After all, they were the first to welcome the passengers off the trains at the station.

The leather cap, the blue coat, the handsome reins, the healthy horses and the carriages with their lacquer veneer attracted mainly the young men of the Jewish, gypsy tribe. The gypsies had lived for a long time in town and were called "the music-box people" (organ-grinders).

In one of the front yards of Warsaw Street, several Jewish families lived for many years. They did not resemble the other inhabitants of the city, neither in appearance nor in means of livelihood. They were clean-shaven Jews who performed tricks, wore goyish caps with lacquered visors and tied red kerchiefs round their necks. They had tight-fitting boots with shiny pointed toes, wore tight, striped shirts and blue trousers. Their stay in town was temporary, only during certain periods of the year.

In small carts for delivering straw and in closed caravans like those of gypsies or circus companies, they traveled from town to town throughout the breadth and width of the country. Any- where there was a "calvaria" they would appear with their complete outfits. Lads and wenches seemed to be "burned alive," magicians appeared to have knives passed through their bodies, swallowed knives and fire, lay half-naked on sharp nails and splinters, lifted heavy weights and made headstands everywhere.

Hurdy-gurdies accompanied their performances with sad melodies. They were so "solemn" that they aroused feelings of loneliness in all the streets. They weighed down the peasants' hearts, depressed them so, that tears welled up in their eyes. Fragmented and hoarse sounds like forlorn and abandoned orphans, filled the entire market. It was then that Gershon the Organ-Grinder, with a beak like that of a bird of prey and a face like that of a corpse, yelled out to the crowd to try its luck. A green parrot with a gold ring on its leg, attached to the music-box, in exchange for several pennies would pick out a fortune card tucked away in a small envelope. Sometimes, some side income came their way - picking the pockets of a stranger, "exchanging" a horse or cow. This resulted in smacks, blows, or knives - according to the season.

The journey throughout the country began at Passover and ended at the High Holy Days. Autumn and winter were not very lively seasons. It was then that they stayed in Mlawa. They made their living from playing cards and stealing whatever came within reach. Both boys and girls did this. In their huts they sang, played, danced and beat their drums. The entire street resounded with their voices. Occasionally, the street was filled with curses and shrieks as people chased and ran after a music- box man and knocked him down. The police were frequent visitors here.

Sometimes in old age, such an organ-grinder would turn into a repentant sinner (Ba'al Tshuva). He wore a Jewish hat, a long caftan, went to pray and recited Psalms. In short he re- turned to Judaism. He stayed home with his wife and no longer traveled throughout the country. Food was provided by his children. A couple who became religious looked out of place in the company of their children and grandchildren who had not the faintest resemblance to anything Jewish. Grandma Hanah, a tall Jewish woman wearing a white head scarf, looked like a witch out of Goldfadden. Her face was the color of earthen clay, her eyes stared like those of a fat, old toad.

With the advent of the train, the younger generation of organ grinders saw that it was possible to make one's living within the town itself. It was far better and more purposeful to acquire a carriage and not continue wandering.

Only one of the drivers, Elisha who stemmed from a Hassidic family, was not of the same origin as that whole band. All the others were sons, sons-in-law, and grandsons of the itinerant "music-box people." The train had totally changed their lives.

Before dawn, when it was still dark outside, Jewish woman headed for Warsaw, the capital, loaded with slaughtered chickens, packages of butter, eggs, and oil, forced their way into the train. Jews such as Berish Ovadieh's Manhieh and Burstein the Lame, were loaded with bundles of merchandise, letters and orders for goods from Warsaw. There were others who traveled "empty- handed," with no baggage. These were the "whips" who were partners to the Russian Czar's income from the train tickets.

To travel on a slow train to Warsaw and buy a ticket at the cashier's window was "needless waste of a Jew's money." And that is how, with the consent of the conductors and the motormen, who were the chief partners to the "whips," Jews without tickets rode on the trains. And if one had the misfortune to encounter an unknowing conductor who suddenly entered the coach, that indeed was a nasty business. The conductors and the "whips" ran about like poisoned rats. They "urged" our brethren, the Children of Israel, to kindly crawl and hide under the benches, or elsewhere, until the coast was clear and the strange ticket taker had left.

On regular days, when everything went smoothly, the "commissionaires" would wrap themselves in their prayer shawls and phylacteries, seat themselves as though in the besmedresh and recite the morning prayer. They had plenty of time. It took the "Bumbler" train over four hours to get to Warsaw. After prayers, they peeled hard-boiled eggs, gulped down a drop of brandy and polished it off with an egg-biscuit or a small piece of herring. They discoursed on the Torah and discussed politics until the train noisily pulled into the Warsaw station. There they scattered throughout the streets, rushing to complete their business and manage to return home that same day.

Those friendly with the manager of the train company and knowledgeable in the customs and regulations involved in shipping packages, were the Alters: David, Itzik and Shlomo. They and, to a smaller extent, Berl Fried and his son Arieh-Leib, were the main expediters of all the goods in town. Only persons familiar with several languages and knowing how to negotiate with the rail- way clerks and how to establish good public relations, could be agents for dispatching goods by rail. Alter's sons were good, intelligent, Hassidic Jews. They spent entire days at the Bolka depot. This new profession was quite difficult and a responsible one, but it paid well. The tradition of their lives, their upbringing and their large families were responsible for the success of Alter's sons.

About 150 years ago there were some 200 Jewish families in Mlawa. Only a few Hassidic and Mitnagdim families had any influence on the community. The ruling Hassidic congregations were the Worka, Bialower, Alexandrowite and, only later, Gur. The traditions and modes of life of the first families were later passed on to children and grandchildren thereby creating the Mlawa version of the Jewish way of life.

Many of the first families of Mlawa originated in the surrounding towns and villages. A conspicuous leftover of this rural background was the Mlawian Jew's hard Yiddish pronunciation. The background of fields and forest was blended with simplicity and Hassidic romanticism. These produced the unsophisticated Mlawian Jew with his emotional nature who was prone to moodiness, immersed in dreams, inclined to exaggeration, superstition, and attached to his homeland. Hassidism found fertile soil in the hearts of the simple Jews who lived in the blessed and beautiful flatland of Mazowsze.

The teachings of the Hassidic Rabbis were taken quite seriously. Faith, honesty, and decency were natural phenomena. Everyone could partake of as much learning and Hassidism as his heart desired. In the Hassidic shtibbls and in the batei midrash, workers sat together with the rich. There was closeness between the Hassidic and artisan families of Mlawa. The craftsmen were not scorned, as was the usual custom in other Jewish communities. It was natural for Hassidim, Mitnagdim and workers to be linked through marriage. Wealthy and respectable Hassidic Jews were the sons of craftsmen, tailors, and butchers who excelled in the study of the Torah and in good manners. Many craftsmen studied the Torah during their free time and enabled their sons to study as a full time occupation.

Israel Alter was descended from a large and aristocratic Hassidic family who had lived in the city for about 120 years. Sons, sons-in-law and grandchildren multiplied and established many new families (as reported by Berish Perlmutter).

Israel Alter lived in the market place in Brachfeld's house. He was a prominent dealer in timber and wool. He spoke Russian and Polish. His sons and daughters were instructed in languages and music. His sons' melamdim were chosen by the Rebbeh, with whom Israel was on intimate terms. When the Wurka Rebbeh came to visit, Israel Alter would sit on the balcony wearing his shtreimel (fur-edged hat). On the other hand when the governor of the province came to see him, he would put on his top hat.

In his home he had his own besmedresh. He "conducted a table" (presided over a table, like a Rebbeh), was associated with and maintained a cozy relationship with the Hassidim.

Hassidic families with business connections and relations with the authorities had to know how to treat non-Jewish merchants and top officials. Such homes had stables of their own, carriages, men and women-servants, bookkeepers and managers.

Israel Alter's first wife bore him five sons and three daughters: Moshe, Tanhum, Herschke, Shmuel and Yosef-Shiyeh, Rifka-Leah, Sheyneh and Golda. From his second marriage there were two sons and two daughters.

Only one of the sons, Shmuel, left Mlawa. The others remained to establish new families. The most learned of them all was Tanhum. The military barracks were housed in buildings he owned. Israel Alter bought estates for his other sons: Marianowa for Yosef-Shiyeh, Mlawka - for Herschke. This was according to the formula: estates, forests, paving roads, and building barracks.

One of the sons, Victor Alter, strayed from the beaten path. He became one of the main leaders of the "Bund." His sister, Esther Iwinska, was also active and was the Bund representative in the City Council of Warsaw.

Tanhum Alter, Victor's brother was one of the forerunners of "Hovevei Zion" and one of the founders of the Zionist Organization in Mlawa. During World War I, Tanhum left town and made his way to Moscow and from there, to Vienna. He died in Paris.

His son, Mordechai Alter, changed his name to Marco Altieri and lived in Rome. He was the director of the Palestine Office for many years. Two of Tanhum's grandsons live in Israel. Their father, Wowe, was murdered by the Nazis in Paris.

Yossel Goldstein, who dealt in lumber, was also a native of Mlawa. He followed in the footsteps of his father-in-law. Goldstein was a Hassid and a great philanthropist. He prayed at the Alexander shtibbl and often traveled to visit the Rebbeh. He "conducted a table" for the Hassidim on Saturdays and festival days. He excelled in his hospitality. It was in his home that the town dowries were deposited.

Goldstein's daughters were known for their beauty and their education. Several of them were university graduates. At the end of the 19th century, several Mlawian girls broke through to the outside world and went abroad, generally to Belgium, to complete their education. The first to go were members of the following families: Konecki, Mendel Borenstein, Yossel Goldstein, and Shayeh Lifschitz.

Yossel Goldstein's sons left Mlawa and scattered all over Poland. Shmuel was the head of the Czestochowa community council; Peretz settled in Kalisz; Mendel was a building contractor in Warsaw; Wolf, the brother-in-law of David Pizic went to Biala.

Mordechai Ben Tov (Gutgeld), the renowned leader of "Hashomer Hatzair," Israel's first Minister of Labor, and Shulamith Bar Don, active in the Israeli theatre, are the great-grandchildren of Yossel Goldstein and of Israel Alter.

As one continues to study the pedigrees, one comes to Avrum Landau and his large family who were all immersed in Hassidim. Avrum Landau used to travel to visit the "old Tzaddik" of Wurka and became linked by marriage to the son of the Biale Rebbeh, Reb Itchkeh Landau. Abraham Landau's sons, Itcheleh and Yerahmiel, were Hassidim who dealt in textiles, faithful followers of the Rebbeh. The Landaus and their sons and grandsons lived in the market where they owned textile stores. They kept their sons from any secular learning.

Yerahmiel Landau excelled in the mitzvoth (merits) of hospitality. He never came home alone but always, with a guest. When his wife grumbled because he had not notified her in advance, he would say: "And what do I ask of you, another spoonful of soup?" On Saturdays he brought home all the melamdim for kiddush (blessing over a cup of wine consecrating the Sabbath or holiday) and they too ate their fill.

Highly regarded in town was the family of Shlomo Lizbraski and his sons: Fischel, Haim, Yehuda-Meyer, Abraham and Zalman. Some of them were Alexandrower Hassidim, others Gur-Hassidim. They lived in the market and were engaged in road construction, textiles, and wine.

Mention must be made of other established Hassidic families, those of Zelik Warszawski and Mendel Warszawski. They were distinguished for their honesty and modesty. When Mendel turned fifty, he liquidated his affairs, assured his daughters of dowries and devoted himself to books on ethics.

The teacher and writer, Yakir Warszawski, and the "Bund" activist and journalist, Binem Warszawski, are related to the Warszawski families of Mlawa.

The Wyszynski family was an extensive one, well represented in the batei midrash and Hassidic houses of prayer.

One of the prominent, well-to-do families was that of Haim Leyzer Narzemski. He was a modest man of means, solid, clever and a respectable citizen. He was always well dressed. He could always be relied upon to mediate justly between contestants in civil disputes. For many years he was one of the heads of the Jewish community. He dealt in hides, chinaware and the wholesale distribution of liquor. He was a Mitnaged and yet, sent his sons, Wolf and Yosef-Lev, to study in the shtibbl. His sons-in-law were Hassidim. One of them was Hirsch Tuvia Yonish.

The Makowski family followed an entirely different course. Yossel Makowski, who did not know how to read, provided his sons with a secular education. He himself was a handsome, wealthy Jew in the wheat and wool business. Once he came to Yossel Goldstein's house, took a newspaper into his hands and suddenly called out to Yossel Goldstein's wife: "Rifka-Leah, a ship has sunk." He was not aware that he was holding the paper upside down. His son Haim knew several languages and his grandson Yossel was the only Jewish doctor of the Mlawian community during the last twenty years of its existence.

Among the veteran families of village origin who blended in with the urban population and held important positions was the eccentric family of Lemel Kleniec. He became wealthy from trading in timber. His son, Herman Kleniec, was prominent in public affairs. He was one of the first Zionists in the city. Herman's sons received high school and college education. This was all due to his wife, Sarah, the daughter of an intelligent Jewish family from Plock.

The only Hassid in the Kleniec family was Moshe-Yosef, a sort of goyish Hassid. He wore a Jewish hat with a leather visor like that of the goyim.

Lemel Kleniec chose his sons-in-law from Hassidic circles though he himself was far removed from Hassidism. One of his sons-in-law was the known iron dealer, the Alexandrower Hassid Shimon Lipsker.

The Rybaks were a respected and wealthy family. Even in those times, Ya'akov-Wolf and Yosef Rybak wore short jackets. Yosef was the Sane Bonislawski agent for the Russian fish trade. His son Henryk was an uncertified dentist in town. At present he is in Israel.

Ya'akov-Wolf was an exporter of wheat to Germany. His son Abraham Rybak was one of the local forerunners of "Hovevei Zion."

A special chapter should be devoted to the melamdim who lived in Mlawa. Even Reb Itchkeh, who conducted himself like a Rebbeh, brought his grandsons a special melamed from the Rebbeh's court, Itcheleh Cziczower. Every melamed brought from out of town by some family was provided with food, clothing, and a salary. Many other melamdim such as Reb Ya'akov Winower, Mattathiahu Zaratiner, would rent a corner in some poor family '5 home. Others opened heders of their own.

It should be mentioned that the dardeki (small children) melamed, who came from Chorzel, 70 years ago, had a heder in which he taught both girls and boys. Tirza Bat Yehuda-Meir Lidzbarski, who some years later became the wife of the watchmaker Feivel Shapira, studied in this heder as did Esther Warszawski and others. The melamed '5 apartment led to the heder. Benches were set up in the room, mended plates, and clocks hung on the walls - this was the Chorzel melamed's side-occupation. All his pupils excelled in the reading of "Ivrit" - Hebrew).

The melamdim, of whom there was no lack, were named according to the cities from which they hailed. They were brought in from all over the country.

An entirely different sort of melamed was Zelik Baranower (Rosenberg), a Hassid and a great scholar. He accepted only four pupils. His wife and daughters helped to earn a living by making headbands and women's hats.

Meyer-Shlomo Rosenthal was very erudite. He liked to pray and also to peek into secular books. He sewed his coattails together so as to be exempt from the tzitzit commandment.

After the Polish uprising was put down, there was extensive assimilation among the Jews. At the same time the "Litvaks" (Lithuanians), who had been expelled from Russia, arrived in Poland. They brought with them the first concepts of the Haskalah (Enlightenment). One of those exiles was the melamed Yuzelewski who, even before Gordon, opened a modern heder in town.

A totally different character was the melamed Rouven-Leib Hertzfeld the Czajker (from the town Czajk). He was well versed in languages, especially German, taught Hebrew and the Bible. Even Reb Itchke, who considered Hertzfeld treyf (unfit), needed the melamed when his son wanted to learn to read and write Hebrew properly. The Czajker had two sons and two daughters. He used to say about one of the sons, who went about with a talith and phylacteries: "He is a Rebbeh without Hassidim (followers)." The other son was proficient in secular learning.

Of him the Czajker said: "This is a professor without a chair." Sixty years ago, Hertzfeld's two daughters opened a school for girls for the study of Hebrew in which Hebrew was the language of instruction. One of the girls became the wife of Moshe the Shohet.

A group of Jews who enjoyed studying ancient Hebrew literature and philosophy gathered around the Czajker. The Czajker spent his free time in the company of David Opatowski. Together they wrote the preface to the first Pinkas (annals) of "Hovevei Zion" in town. He was also a friend of Israel Goldman (the brother-in -law of Yossel Goldstein), an Alexander Hassid who was both very pious and a great scholar, grammarian and poet. Like his friend, David Opatowski, the father of the well-known writer Yosef Opatoshu, he was well versed in ancient Jewish philosophical literature.

Rybak of Plock discarded his long caftan and taught foreign languages. Later, so did the teachers Sanino, Bukowtzer, the elementary school teacher and, finally, Moshe Golumb. Generally, only the children of the rich studied languages. The Jewish girls attended the Polish "pensia" (high school).

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Updated 27 Feb 2002 by LA