able and a cracked mirror, a hanging shelf heaped
with ragged books, and a standing cupboard which obviously turned into
a bedstead at night for half the family. But of a dentist's chair
there was not even the ruins. His eyes wandered over the broken-backed
books--some were indeed 'dictionaries in distress.' He noted a
Russo-German and a German-English. Then the sounds of frying
penetrated more keenly to his brain.

'You are the cook of the restaurant?' he inquired.

'Restaurant!' echoed the woman resentfully. 'Have I not enough cooking
to do for my own family? And where shall I find money to keep a
restaurant?'

'Your husband said----' murmured Barstein, as in guilty confusion.

A squalling from the overflow offspring in the kitchen drew off the
mother for a moment, leaving him surrounded by an open-eyed juvenile
mob. From the rear he heard smacks, loud whispers and whimperings.
Then the poor woman reappeared, bearing what seemed a scrubbing-board.
She placed it over one of the caneless chairs, and begged his
Excellency to be seated. It was a half holiday at the school, she
complained, otherwise her family would be less numerous.

'Where does your husband do his dentistry?' Barstein inquired, seating
himself cautiously upon the board.

'Do I know?' said his wife. 'He goes out, he comes in.' At this
moment, to Barstein's great satisfaction, he did come in.

'Holy angel!' he cried, rushing at the hem of Barstein's coat, and
kissing it reverently. He was a gaunt, melancholy figure, elongated to
over six feet, and still further exaggerated by a rusty top-hat of the
tallest possible chimneypot, and a threadbare frockcoat of the longest
possible tails. At his advent his wife, vastly relieved, shepherded
her flock into the kitchen and closed the door, leaving Barstein alone
with the long man, who seemed, as he stood gazing at his visitor,
positively soaring heavenwards with rapture.

But Barstein inquired brutally: 'Where do you do your dentistry?'

'Never mind me,' replied Nehemiah ecstatically. 'Let me look on you!'
And a more passionate worship came into his tranced gaze.

But Barstein, feeling duped, replied sternly: 'Where do you do your
dentistry?'

The question seemed to take some moments penetrating through
Nehemiah's rapt brain, but at last he replied pathetically: 'And where
shall I find achers? In Russia I had my living of it. Here I have no
friends.'

The homeliness of his vocabulary amused Barstein