l
out of breath as she rang the bell with trembling fingers. "_Oi weh!_
even the outside smells riches and plenty! Such curtains! And shades on
all windows like by millionaires! Twenty years ago she used to eat from
the pot to the hand, and now she lives in such a palace."

A whiff of steam-heated warmth swept over Mrs. Pelz as the door opened,
and she saw her old friend of the tenements dressed in silk and diamonds
like a being from another world.

"Mrs. Pelz, is it you!" cried Hanneh Breineh, overjoyed at the sight of
her former neighbor. "Come right in. Since when are you back in New
York?"

"We came last week," mumbled Mrs. Pelz as she was led into a richly
carpeted reception-room.

"Make yourself comfortable. Take off your shawl," urged Hanneh Breineh.

But Mrs. Pelz only drew her shawl more tightly around her, a keen sense
of her poverty gripping her as she gazed, abashed by the luxurious
wealth that shone from every corner.

"This shawl covers up my rags," she said, trying to hide her shabby
sweater.

"I'll tell you what; come right into the kitchen," suggested Hanneh
Breineh. "The servant is away for this afternoon, and we can feel more
comfortable there. I can breathe like a free person in my kitchen when
the girl has her day out."

Mrs. Pelz glanced about her in an excited daze. Never in her life had
she seen anything so wonderful as a white tiled kitchen, with its
glistening porcelain sink and the aluminum pots and pans that shone like
silver.

"Where are you staying now?" asked Hanneh Breineh as she pinned an apron
over her silk dress.

"I moved back to Delancey Street, where we used to live," replied Mrs.
Pelz as she seated herself cautiously in a white enameled chair.

"_Oi weh!_ what grand times we had in that old house when we were
neighbors!" sighed Hanneh Breineh, looking at her old friend with misty
eyes.

"You still think on Delancey Street? Haven't you more high-class
neighbors up-town here?"

"A good neighbor is not to be found every day," deplored Hanneh Breineh.
"Up-town here, where each lives in his own house, nobody cares if the
person next door is dying or going crazy from loneliness. It ain't
anything like we used to have it in Delancey Street, when we could walk
into one another's rooms without knocking, and borrow a pinch of salt or
a pot to cook in."

Hanneh Breineh went over to the pantry-shelf.

"We are going to have a bite right here on the kitchen-table like on
De