For the rich there were luxuries even in Polotzk.
Cleansed, red-skinned, and steaming, we return at last to the dressing-room, to shiver, as we dress, in the cold drafts from the entry door; and then, muffled up to the eyes, we plunge into the refreshing outer air, and hurry home, looking like so many big bundles running away with smaller bundles.

If we meet acquaintances on the way we are greeted with "_zu refueh_" ("to your good health").

If the first man we meet is a Gentile, the women who have been to the mikweh have to return and repeat the ceremony of purification.

To prevent such a calamity, the kerchief is worn hooded over the eyes, so as to exclude unholy sights.

At home we are indulged with extra pieces of cake for tea, and otherwise treated like heroes returned from victory.
We narrate anecdotes of our expedition, and my mother complains that my little brother is getting too old to be taken to the women's bath.
He will go hereafter with the men.
[Illustration: THE MEAT MARKET, POLOTZK] My winter confinement was not shared by my older sister, who otherwise was my constant companion.