ight.

Some of the townsfolk were very discontented that the mayor had only
brought a Jewess into the town, and not a Jew, for it would sound
grander if they could say: "Our Jew says this, or our Moricz or Tobias
did that," than if they had said: "Our Rosalia says this, that, or the
other;" it sounds so very mild. They would have liked a Jew with a long
beard, and hooked nose, and red hair if possible; that was the correct
thing!

But Mr. Konopka, the cleverest senator in the town, who had made the
contract with Mrs. Muencz, and who had even gone himself to fetch her
and her luggage from Besztercebanya with two large carts, the horses of
which had flowers and rosettes on, coldly repudiated these aspersions on
their Jewess, with an argument which struck as heavily as the stones in
David's sling.

"Don't be so foolish," he said. "If a woman was once king in Hungary,
why should not a Jewess fill the place of Jew in Babaszek?"

(This was a reference to the words of the nation addressed to Maria
Theresa: "We will fight for our 'king' and our country.")

Of course they soon saw the truth of this, and ceased grumbling; and
they were in time quite reconciled to their Jewess, for every year, on
the Feast of Tents, all Mrs. Muencz's sons, seven in number, came to see
their mother, and walked about the market-place in their best clothes,
laced boots, and top-hats. The townsfolk were glad enough then, their
hearts swelled with pride as they gazed at the seven Jews, and they
would exclaim:

"Well, if this is not a town, what is?"

"You won't see as many Jews as that in Pelsoec in ten years," answered
another proudly.

Old Mrs. Muencz feasted her eyes on her sons when she sat, as she usually
did, in the doorway of her shop, her knitting in her hands, her
spectacles on her nose (those spectacles lent her an additional charm
in the eyes of her admirers). She was a pleasant-looking old woman in
her snow-white frilled cap, and seemed to suit her surroundings, the
whitewashed walls of the neighboring houses, the important-looking Town
Hall, and no one could pass her without raising their hat, just as they
did before the statue of St. John Nepomuk. (Those were the only two
things worth seeing in Babaszek.)

Every one felt that the little old woman would have her share in the
success of the town.

"Good-morning, young woman. How are you?"

"Very well, thank you, my child."

"How is business, young woman?"

"Thank you, my c