ghter rebuking her for eating with the wrong fork or
guzzling the soup or staining the cloth.

In a fit of rebellion Hanneh Breineh resolved never to go down to the
public dining-room again, but to make use of the gas-stove in the
kitchenette to cook her own meals. That very day she rode down to
Delancey Street and purchased a new market-basket. For some time she
walked among the haggling push-cart venders, relaxing and swimming in
the warm waves of her old familiar past.

A fish-peddler held up a large carp in his black, hairy hand and waved
it dramatically:

"Women! Women! Fourteen cents a pound!"

He ceased his raucous shouting as he saw Hanneh Breineh in her rich
attire approach his cart.

"How much?" she asked pointing to the fattest carp.

"Fifteen cents, lady," said the peddler, smirking as he raised his
price.

"Swindler! Didn't I hear you call fourteen cents?" shrieked Hanneh
Breineh, exultingly, the spirit of the penny chase surging in her blood.
Diplomatically, Hanneh Breineh turned as if to go, and the fishman
seized her basket in frantic fear.

"I should live; I'm losing money on the fish, lady," whined the peddler.
"I'll let it down to thirteen cents for you only."

"Two pounds for a quarter, and not a penny more," said Hanneh Breineh,
thrilling again with the rare sport of bargaining, which had been her
chief joy in the good old days of poverty.

"_Nu_, I want to make the first sale for good luck." The peddler threw
the fish on the scale.

As he wrapped up the fish, Hanneh Breineh saw the driven look of worry
in his haggard eyes, and when he counted out for her the change from her
dollar, she waved it aside.

"Keep it for your luck," she said, and hurried off to strike a new
bargain at a push-cart of onions.

Hanneh Breineh returned triumphantly with her purchases. The basket
under her arm gave forth the old, homelike odors of herring and garlic,
while the scaly tail of a four-pound carp protruded from its newspaper
wrapping. A gilded placard on the door of the apartment-house proclaimed
that all merchandise must be delivered through the trade entrance in the
rear; but Hanneh Breineh with her basket strode proudly through the
marble-paneled hall and rang nonchalantly for the elevator.

The uniformed hall-man, erect, expressionless, frigid with dignity,
stepped forward:

"Just a minute, Madam, I'll call a boy to take up your basket for you."

Hanneh Breineh, glaring at him, jerked the