so up-to-date; but none of
'em got away."

"I should know when Mrs. Abrahams wants shoes--five times a week she
comes in to be sociable."

"I used to say to papa: 'Always leave a customer to go take a new one's
shoes off; and then go back and take your time! Two customers in their
stockinged feet is worth more than one in a new pair of shoes!' Abie,
you don't look right. You'll tell me the truth if you don't feel well,
won't you? I always say to have the doctor in time saves nine. If poor
papa had listened to me--"

"I'm all right, mamma. Why don't you sit down by me? Don't light the
gas--for why should you make it hotter? Come, sit down by me."

"I go put the oven light out. Apple-pie I was baking for you yet; for
myself I don't need supper--I had coffee at five o'clock."

Dusk entered the little apartment and crowded the furniture into
phantoms; a red signal light from the skeleton of the elevated road
threw a glow as mellow as firelight across the mantelpiece. Mrs.
Ginsburg's canary rustled himself until he swelled up twice too fat and
performed the ever-amazing ritual of thrusting his head within himself
as if he would prey on his own vitals. The cooler breath of night; the
smells of neighboring food; the more frequent rushing of trains, and a
navy-blue sky, pit-marked with small stars, came all at once. In the
hallway Mrs. Ginsburg worked the hook of the telephone impatiently up
and down.

"Audubon 6879! Hello! Washeims' residence? Yetta? Yes, this is Carrie.
Ain't it awful? I'm nearly dead with it. Yetta, Abie ain't feeling so
well; so we won't be up to-night. No--it ain't nothing but the heat; but
I worry enough, I can tell you."

"Mamma, don't holler in the telephone so--she can't hear you when you
scream."

"It's always something, ain't it? That's what I tell him; but he's like
his poor papa before him--he's afraid no one can do nothing but him; his
little snip of a clerk he gives a vacation, but none for himself. I'm
glad we ain't going then; you always make yourself so much trouble. It's
too hot to eat, Abie says. Beef with horseradish sauce I had for supper,
too--and apple-pie I baked in the heat for him; but not a bite will that
boy eat! And when he don't eat I know he ain't feeling well. Who?
Beulah? Ain't that grand? Yes, cooking is always good for a girl to know
even if she don't need it. No; I go to work and thicken my gravy with
flour and horseradish. Believe me, I cried enough when I did it