F

ishel and Faivish’s grandmother had sent them a set of marbles. Fishel and Faivish were having fun, flicking them across the highly polished floor to see whose would roll the furthest.

Fishel flicked a particularly colorful marble. The marble shot across the room at lightning speed. The only problem was, it moved faster than Fishel and Faivish could follow with their eyes — and to their dismay, they suddenly realized it had simply disappeared from sight. They immediately went hunting all over the room for it, but it was nowhere to be found.

Faivish had an idea.

“Hey! Listen to this. Why don’t we flick another marble in the same direction as the one that got lost? It’s sure to roll to exactly the same place. We’ll watch it extra closely this time — and we’ll find both marbles at the same time!”

Fishel grudgingly admitted he liked the suggestion.

Faivish flicked another colorful marble. Whoosh! The brothers fixed their eyes on it with fierce intent. But it was no good. The marble whizzed away at such speed that they simply couldn’t keep up, and once again it disappeared.

“What a dumb idea!” Fishel turned on his brother scornfully.

“Oh yeah? Well, who was dumb enough to lose a marble in the first place?” retorted Faivish rudely.

“Don’t blame me! It wasn’t my fault!”

“Was!”

“Wasn’t!”

“Go fly a kite!”

“Go take a long walk off a short pier!”

Biff! Bam!

Mrs. Friedman, who’d been busy rearranging the crystal ornaments in the dining room closet to her satisfaction, heard the sounds of yet another fight from the troublesome twosome, and sighed heavily. She’d been hoping that things had improved between the pair lately, especially as they’d seemed to be playing so nicely with the marbles; but now it looked like her hopes were dashed.

“I think this calls for some help,” she murmured to herself, clicking the buttons of a familiar number on the telephone.

Within minutes it was arranged.

“Fishel! Faivish! I need you to go to pop something into Rabinowitzes’ house for me,” called Mrs. Friedman.

Unfortunately, the brothers were too engrossed in their fight even to hear her.

It took another two or three tries, accompanied by some dire threats to call their father, before she could get their attention.

Sullenly, the pair left on their errand, each looking grimly straight ahead so as not to see his brother.

Mrs. Friedman calmly watched them go. She had a feeling all was going to be fine very soon.

The brothers had just delivered the package when they stopped short in surprise. Prancing around on the pavement, in a distinctly carefree manner, was Gimpel the goat. There was no sign of Eli the animal keeper or anyone else looking after him.

“I bet he escaped again!” muttered Fishel.

“Eli’s probably frantic,” mumbled Faivish.

Without a word — as they were strictly not on speaking terms with each other — the brothers moved in on the goat. They could see Jolly Solly further up Sunny Lane, by his cheerful open-top car, and automatically steered the animal in the clown’s direction. He was sure to know what to do with Gimpel.

(Excerpted from Mishpacha Jr., Issue 748)