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| Jolly Solly |

Time to Leave

“Tell you what! Bet they’re waiting to be planted. Let’s do it, and save Mr. Krankowitz the trouble!”

Mr. Krankowitz groaned loudly as he tried standing up straight. Ooh! Ouch! His back was acting up again. It must be all that time he’d spent pulling up those pesky weeds. He looked around his garden sourly. There were still all those autumn leaves lying on the ground that needed removing. How on earth was he going to manage it with a bad back?

There was nothing for it; he’d have to get some help. The old man wondered whom to ask. Unfortunately, Jolly Solly was away. Just then he heard voices from the garden next door. It was those annoying Friedman boys that always seemed to be causing trouble. They were far from ideal, thought Mr. Krankowitz. On the other hand, they were young and energetic, and could probably do the job in no time at all.

“You there!” he called gruffly.

Fishel and Faivish turned to him in surprise.

“I didn’t do anything,” declared Fishel right away. “It wasn’t my fault that our Frisbee fell into your garden yesterday. The wind carried it across. And I only climbed over to get it back and not spoil your nice lawn.”

“Yeah, and I helped him, to keep you garden nice and uncluttered,” added Faivish piously.

The old man waved aside their words. “Never mind all that,” he declared. “You can make yourselves useful instead. I need someone to sweep up my dead leaves.”

“Oh, we can do that,” said Fishel helpfully. It wouldn’t hurt to get into the old man’s good books. Hopefully it would also help him forget about the Frisbee incident.

“Certainly,” echoed Faivish.

The troublesome two leaped over the garden fence, as Mr. Krankowitz closed his eyes and winced, and stood there eagerly awaiting instructions.

Mr. Krankowitz told them what to do. Then he went inside to sink into his favorite armchair. He soon dozed off, while Fishel and Faivish raked the leaves.

They finished quickly. Then they looked around.

“Let’s do another job,” suggested Fishel.

“Yeah, we’ll surprise him,” Faivish agreed with his brother for a change.

Excerpted from Mishpacha Magazine. To view full version, SUBSCRIBE FOR FREE or LOG IN.

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