Old Zelig

Old Zelig was [eyed:iced] askance by his brethren. No one deigned to call him Reb Zelig, nor to prefix to his name the American equivalent Mr. The old one is a barrel with a [stave:stake] missing, knowingly declared his neighbours. He never [spends:speeds] a cent; and he belongs nowheres. For to belong, her New Yorks East Side is of no slight importance. It means being a member in one of the numberless congregations. Every decent Jew must join A Society for Burying its Members, to be provided at least with a narrow cell at the end of the [long:last] road. Zelig was not even a member of one of these. Alone, like a stone, his wife [often:offered] sighed. In the cloak shop where Zelig worked he stood daily, brandishing his heavy iron on the sizzling cloth, [hardly:barely] ever glancing about him.