Traveling the subway during rush hour is no pleasure ride. Huge crowds, being jostled, and standing for an hour are part of the daily fare for millions of people.  Mrs. Fine tried to make the best of it by observing other people, which she always found interesting. The varied assortment of people of was a lesson in the diversity of NYC life. Today, however, her attention was drawn to a Jewish boy coming home from school with a schoolbag propped between his feet. He pulled out a book and struggled to write a few lines in a notebook with the other arm crooked around a pole while the train jerked. "Must be doing homework," Mrs. Fine thought.  Finally, the boy got a seat, tucked his bag underneath, and focused earnestly on his work.

"Switch here for the D," the conductor announced. The boy closed his notebook and headed for the door. The train was already pulling out of the station when Mrs. Fine noticed that his school bag was still under the seat! What could she do now? She made her way through the crowded – "I’m sorry; excuse me” – and picked up the bag, hoping there would be a name and address in it.

Mrs. Fine opened the bag and found a laptop and another book with the name David Cohen written inside. She searched for a telephone number or address, but there was none. "Oh great," Mrs. Fine sighed, "there could be two hundred David Cohens in New York!"

Mrs. Fine wasn’t sure what to do. She didn't know the boy. She couldn't put up signs in all the stations. To announce the school bag in her local neighborhood seemed pointless. She figured that the best thing to do, meanwhile, was to take the books home and decide later what to do.

During supper, Mrs. Fine told her husband what had happened that day. Her husband was skeptical about the possibility of returning the items. "How will you ever find him? Anyway, if someone loses something on the train, he never expects to get it back; he assumes someone will take it. Perhaps we are allowed to keep it."

Mrs. Fine didn't feel comfortable with this, though. She was particularly concerned about the laptop. "Ask Rabbi Dayan," her husband suggested. "He'll tell you what you should do." She picked up the phone and called Rabbi Dayan.

"Hello, this is Mrs. Fine. I found a school bag on the train today containing a laptop and a book with the name David Cohen. What should I do? Are we allowed to keep them?"

"In general," answered Rabbi Dayan, "when something is lost in a public place where the majority of passersby are not Jewish, we assume the owner gives up hope of getting it back. By the letter of the law, the finder is allowed to keep the item, even if it has identification. (C.M. 259:3) Nonetheless, the Shulchan Aruch writes that it is proper to return the item if the owner identifies it. Many authorities even require a person to act in this proper manner." (259:5 and Shach #3)

"There was no address or telephone number, though," said Mrs. Fine, "and the name is quite common."

"In that case, you can keep the bag and its contents," said Rabbi Dayan. "It would be appropriate, though, to notify the nearby station master that you found a school bag with the name David Cohen on it and leave your contact information in case the boy tries to track it down."

"Would the same rules be true if there was a pair of Tefillin in the bag?" asked Mrs. Fine.

"Perhaps," answered Rabbi Dayan. "The Rama (259:3) writes that a person does not give up hope of reclaiming religious items, under the assumption that they will make their way to Jewish hands. Therefore, the finder is obligated to return them. This may not apply to something lost on the subway nowadays, however, since it is likely that the average rider who finds them might simply discard them.  In any case, it would be a good idea to post a notice in a Jewish newspaper or website."

"Thank you," said Mrs. Fine. "That gives me a great idea. Maybe some entrepreneuring person can create a hashavas aveida web site..."

A summer camp in my neighborhood recently made the following offer: If you pre-pay the summer camp tuition by Febuary 15, the camp tuition will be $900. However, if you pay at the normal time – in June or July – the summer camp tuition will be the "regular price" of $1200. This seems to be a common practice among summer camps, judging by the many ads in the papers.

Q: In essence, the camp is giving you interest of three hundred dollars in exchange for borrowing your money from Febuary 15 until camp starts in the summer. Is this a problem of ribbis?

A: The Gemara in the fifth perek of Bava Metzia seems to prohibit such arrangements.

The issue depends on whether the camp is offering the discount in lieu of their access to the pre-payment monies or if the pre-payment is preferred for other considerations;  for example, to insure that parents don’t back out, or for ease of collection of tuition. Mishpat Shalom 209.25 permits a deposit with two conditions. The payment must be small enough to make it very clear that the intent is only to secure the deal, and the discount must be completely unrelated to the advanced funds.

It would seem that if the camp offers the early bird discount only if parents pay early in full, or even if they require a large deposit, the above conditions would not necessarily be satisfied. As such, it would be difficult to permit.

One other potential heter is the corporation leniency. This leniency mandates that corporations are not bound by the usual restrictions of paying ribbis. However, since most small day camps are not incorporated, this rule would not apply, and the prohibition still stands.

Q: If the vendor and customer were in dispute over a price, and the goods were delivered or the service provided before settling, how much is owed?

A: If the vendor and customer were still disputing the price, it is considered as if the sale or service was done with no price-quote at all. In this case, we follow the minhag hamedina – the going rate. It the rate varies, generally the vendor has the weaker hand.

However, if the customer at first rejected the sale because the price was too high, or the vendor rejected it because the offer was too low, and later they got together and carried through the sale anyway without an explicit agreement, whoever took the initiative to carry through is considered as acquiescing to the other party. Thus, if the customer called the vendor and told him to deliver the goods, he must pay the higher price demanded. If the vendor called the customer to say that he is sending the goods, he is entitled only to the lower price offered. (C.M. 221:1 and Pischei Choshen Sechirus 8:5)