The World Swindler

In the land of Uz² there was a small town named Narkov³. It was a Jewish shtetl and also a very religious one. The rabbi who lived there was an old man, and also a rebele, a small-town rabbi in the manner of a tsadik⁴. He wore a long white robe. On Friday nights he wore his talis, his prayer shawl, while praying. He often prayed for remedies. He also brought gifts to Hasidic rabbis quite often. He was truly an very benevolent Jew. And also, regrettably, very impoverished.

In this town there was an orphan girl, a girl who unfortunately had no father or mother. So out of compassion, the rabbi’s wife took her in and raised her. Already in her twenties she was a great beauty with a nose like a beer keg on a caved-in face. Her eyes were big like a Hungarian calf’s and her lips resembled those of a Russian ox. Her fingers were as thick as an elephant’s legs and she was as smart as an old donkey. But, knock on wood, she could eat like a horse. And as if that wasn’t enough she went around barefoot and unclothed. And who was there to buy or make her anything when she woefully had no parents and the rabbi was so pitifully poor. Pathetically, she had no beloved either. Whoever looked at her got the dry heaves as her beauty had no equal. And alas, because of the way she was designed, no one could be found to marry her. There were no available blind men and she didn’t want anyone who could see. (4) Long story short, she was already over 30 years old.

One day in the women’s section of the synagogue the rabbi’s wife overheard the women berating her for not finding a match for the orphan girl. One very orthodox, upper crust matron distinguished herself by projecting in her very loud voice. She went on and on about the 30-something unmarried woman saying that if this orphan lived at someone else’s house the rabbi and his wife would surely have something to say about it. She felt that the rabbi and his wife were committing a great sin by not marrying her off, but since it was they who were committing this sin, they didn’t see it as sinning. To them it was not sinning. And all the other pious women grumbled along in agreement.

The rebetsn went home and told the rov⁵ who responded that the women were quite right—it was truly a huge transgression they were committing. So the rebetsn wanted to know what to do about it? The rabbi said he would tell her what to do but that she had to obey him.

‘Take the silver handle from my cane and the pair of silver phylactery cases and my fox fur, and also take your gold box with its chain and the two strings of pearls and go and pawn them. That will enable us to, first of all, clothe her. Although she isn’t overly bright and not very smart either, the blackest mark against her is that she is barefoot and naked. Who would want her like that? So, if she were better dressed she’ll look better. And a match will promptly appear.’

The rebetsn went off to pawn the collateral and brought back some gold coins that came to 150 gulden. The rabbi declared the orphan girl be respectably clothed. 50 gulden was to be spent to dress her from head to toe. He also declared that she be given an opulent dowry. ‘I will give her the entire 100 gulden for her dowry,’ he said. ‘Her clothing and dowry will leave her nothing to be ashamed of. She will be equal to all the other wealthy young women in town. And that is how a groom will be found for her.’

And it was done. A beautiful dress of batiste was made for her that cost three kopeks a yard. A couple of blouses, a pair of shoes for six kopeks, a red kerchief, an apron, were all procured for her. In short, the circus bear was clothed. She looked like (5) a sacrificial ox and had the charm of a ferocious beast.

And when she was already beautifully dressed the rov declared, ‘God provided for her to be sumptuously dressed and her prosperous dowry is, thank God, ready. Now let’s get down to finding her a groom. And even if he isn’t exactly the brightest light in town, I will wed her to him anyway.’

So the brightest lights in town gathered to confer about who to marry her off to. The rov, the rebetsn, the beys-din shamesh, the shul gabe, the shul-klaper, the Talmud Torah melamed, the mikvenik⁶, Reb Nakhum the meat-kosherer, Reb Traymel, the trustee of the butcher shop, and several other great thinkers gathered together to brainstorm and offer suggestions as to finding a match for the beast. But nothing was resolved. The matchmaker was afraid to approach whoever was suggested as a possible groom for the Queen of Sheba. He feared he would be violently thrown out, or worse yet, beat to a pulp for his matchmaking.

In that same town there was a youth whose name was Shimon. Everyone called him Simkhe. And because he was unclothed and barefoot, with only a piece of coarse cloth covering his flesh, people yelled Simkhe Plakhte when they wanted his attention.

The whole town knew him. He was the water carrier. His entire holdings consisted of a couple of carrying poles, several water cans and the piece of coarse cloth he covered himself with. That was all he possessed. He wasn’t a great thinker nor was he even a bit of a fool. He didn’t have any common sense concerning the slightest thing. The only thing he knew how to do was eat and haul water. He would deliver six cans of water in exchange for a piece of bread. Big and small, young and old, all knew him.

His custom was as follows: Every Thursday evening and every holiday eve he brought water to the servant girls. He also brought them sand with which he would help them polish the candlesticks and silverware. For that he would be given the scrapings from their pots. All year he brought water and chopped wood for a certain baker. In exchange for that he was allowed to sleep on the bed above the oven. And when there was a wedding (6) or a holiday meal, he then worked like a horse, carrying water and chopping wood. In exchange he was given the dishes to lick. He went naked and barefoot summer and winter with only his piece of plakhte covering him. And he was never referred to as anything else but Simkhe Plakhte.

As the rov was conferring with his colleagues about a match for the beautiful heifer, the shul caller suddenly came upon the brilliant idea that Simkhe Plakhte would make her a perfect groom. At first everyone cracked up but after some consideration they thought it would actually be a great mitsve⁷. Simkhe was already 40 years old at the time and pitifully naked and barefoot. Who would want him? And she too was not wanted by anyone. So then everyone agreed it would be a good match. But they were afraid to approach Simkhe with the proposition. They feared he might get violent and put an end to them. So the rov told his shamesh to bring Simkhe to him without telling him why he was being sent for. The shamesh promptly went to summon Simkhe to appear before the rabbi.

While the shamesh was summoning Simkhe, the rov told his wife to dress the bride in her new respectable clothes. He wanted her attired from head to toe by the time Simkhe arrived. And it was done.

Simkhe Plakhte arrived wrapped in his coarse cloth with his water cans hanging from his shoulders. As he entered the rov’s foyer to meet with the rabbi, the rebetsn told him to leave his cans and poles in the foyer. ‘It won’t look good for you to meet with the rabbi with those cans hanging from you.’ He did not want to do that saying, ‘This is all I own. I cannot leave it unattended.’ And into the house he walked with the poles and cans hanging from his shoulders.

The rov welcomed him kindly and said to him, ‘Listen to me my dear Simkhe—why aren’t you married yet? Is it a custom of ours for a man to be without a woman? We Jews (7) are instructed otherwise. Every Jew must take a wife.’

Simkhe responded in his coarse peasant voice. ‘I thought you were smart because you take bribes. It turns out you are quite an ox. You sound like a snake charmer—with no sense whatsoever. Listen up—you say I should find a wife— Nu, nu⁸, who will have me? Even someone fished out of a garbage heap would not have me.’ He then removed his little piece of coarse cloth showing the rabbi his nakedness. ‘Can’t you see that I am naked. I do not possess anything more than this little piece of sackcloth and these water cans. I don’t have a cent to my name. And I’m not very good at praying either. When my parents died I was but a child. So who would want me?’

‘I have some news for you,’ the rov responded. ‘I have found you a very beautiful, well-to-do bride who has a lot of money.’ He then motioned to the rebetsn, giving the sign she bring in the well-to-do bride wearing the red kerchief and looking like a turkey. The rov displayed the beautiful apparition before Simkhe, and said, ‘Did you ever see such a beauty? This kind of rarity is not an everyday occurrence. Take a good look at her. Notice her rich garments. And she also possesses her very own fortune.’ At this point the rov opened a drawer containing the pile of gold coins, the hundred gulden, her dowry. He showed it to him and said, ‘Our overlord, who owns this town, does not have this much money.’

As soon as Simkhe saw the decked out bride and the pile of money he bounded toward the rabbi and screamed, ‘Rebe, Rebe—all right! I will take her for my wife right away. I love you.’

‘No my child,’ the rov said, ‘We must first arrange to write a contract and shake on it. Then I must get you some clothes. And then we will have a formal engagement ceremony to bring luck. After that you and she may get married. And then she will be your wife.’ ‘No Rabbi,’ Simkhe replied, ‘First make her my wife, and we’ll write the contract another time.’