Page 109 - Devil's Arithmetic by Jane Yolen

there is no hope. Without hope, there is no life. Without
life..."
"Without life . . " Hannah's voice trailed off, re-
.
membering the old tattooer.
"Without food there is no life," Gitl said. "We will
go and see if any of these monsters believes in food."
The moment they tried to set a foot outside, a guard
blocked their way. With their Yiddish, they were just
able to understand his German.
"You will not leave," he said, his baby face stern.
"We have children in here who have not eaten for
days," Gitl answered.
"They will get used to it," the soldier said as if the
words were rote in his mouth. "They will get used to
it."
"Just like the farmer who trained his horse to eat less
and less," said Gitl. "And just when he had gotten it
to the point of learning to eat nothing at all, the ingrate
up and died. I suppose you have heard that story?"
"I hear nothing important from Jews," the soldier
said. "But I have something important to tell them. See
that?" He pointed to a brick chimney towering over a
flat-roofed building where a thin line of smoke curled
lazily into the air. "That's Jew smoke! Learn to eat
when it's given to you, Jew, or you, too, go up that
stack."
"Jew smoke?" Gitl whispered. But the soldier was
already closing the door against her protesting hands.
Hannah bit her lip. The smokestack and the ominous
black curl emerging from it, dissipating against the bright
blue sky, reminded her of something. Yet she couldn't

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