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This is no fairy tale, it really happened.
In our shtetl, there was a bright young man named Móyshele. He was as smart as a whip, and also a good-for-nothing. Then all at once he disappeared, and no…
He burst into laughter that immediately frightened him. Just then he passed the “Cold Synagogue”—a synagogue in which, it was said, the dead came to say their prayers on Saturday nights, wearing white…