Part 7 (1/2)

”Is he at home?” he asked.

”No, but I expect him back from the country every minute. I believe they have invited him for the _Pidyun Haben_ to-day.”

”Oh, is that to-day?”

”Of course. Didst thou not know?”

”No, no one told me.”

”Thine own sense should have told thee. Is it not the thirty-first day since the birth? But of course he won't accept when he knows that my own daughter has driven me out of her house.”

”You say not!” exclaimed Moses in horror.

”I do say,” said Malka, unconsciously taking up the clothes-brush and thumping with it on the table to emphasize the outrage. ”I told her that when Yechezkel cried so much, it would be better to look for the pin than to dose the child for gripes. 'I dressed it myself, Mother,' says she. 'Thou art an obstinate cat's head. Milly,' says I. 'I say there _is_ a pin.' 'And I know better,' says she. 'How canst thou know better than I?' says I. 'Why, I was a mother before thou wast born.' So I unrolled the child's flannel, and sure enough underneath it just over the stomach I found--”

”The pin,” concluded Moses, shaking his head gravely.

”No, not exactly. But a red mark where the pin had been p.r.i.c.king the poor little thing.”

”And what did Milly say then?” said Moses in sympathetic triumph.

”Milly said it was a flea-bite! and I said, 'Gott in Himmel, Milly, dost thou want to swear my eyes away? My enemies shall have such a flea-bite.' And because Red Rivkah was in the room, Milly said I was shedding her blood in public, and she began to cry as if I had committed a crime against her in looking after her child. And I rushed out, leaving the two babies howling together. That was a week ago.”

”And how is the child?”

”How should I know? I am only the grandmother, I only supplied the bed-linen it was born on.”

”But is it recovered from the circ.u.mcision?”

”Oh, yes, all our family have good healing flesh. It's a fine, child, _imbeshreer_. It's got my eyes and nose. It's a rare handsome baby, _imbeshreer_. Only it won't be its mother's fault if the Almighty takes it not back again. Milly has picked up so many ignorant Lane women who come in and blight the child, by admiring it aloud, not even saying _imbeshreer_. And then there's an old witch, a beggar-woman that Ephraim, my son-in-law, used to give a s.h.i.+lling a week to. Now he only gives her ninepence. She asked him 'why?' and he said, 'I'm married now.

I can't afford more.' 'What!' she shrieked, 'you got married on my money!' And one Friday when the nurse had baby downstairs, the old beggar-woman knocked for her weekly allowance, and she opened the door, and she saw the child, and she looked at it with her Evil Eye! I hope to Heaven nothing will come of it.”

”I will pray for Yechezkel,” said Moses.

”Pray for Milly also, while thou art about it, that she may remember what is owing to a mother before the earth covers me. I don't know what's coming over children. Look at my Leah. She _will_ marry that Sam Levine, though he belongs to a lax English family, and I suspect his mother was a proselyte. She can't fry fish any way. I don't say anything against Sam, but still I do think my Leah might have told me before falling in love with him. And yet see how I treat them! My Michael made a _Missheberach_ for them in synagogue the Sabbath after the engagement; not a common eighteen-penny benediction, but a guinea one, with half-crown blessings thrown in for his parents and the congregation, and a gift of five s.h.i.+llings to the minister. That was of course in our own _Chevrah_, not reckoning the guinea my Michael _shnodared_ at Duke's Plaizer _Shool_. You know we always keep two seats at Duke's Plaizer as well.” Duke's Plaizer was the current distortion of Duke's Place.

”What magnanimity,” said Moses overawed.

”I like to do everything with decorum,” said Malka. ”No one can say I have ever acted otherwise than as a fine person. I dare say thou couldst do with a few s.h.i.+llings thyself now.”

Moses hung his head still lower. ”You see my mother is so poorly,” he stammered. ”She is a very old woman, and without anything to eat she may not live long.”

”They ought to take her into the Aged Widows' Home. I'm sure I gave her _my_ votes.”

”G.o.d shall bless you for it. But people say I was lucky enough to get my Benjamin into the Orphan Asylum, and that I ought not to have brought her from Poland. They say we grow enough poor old widows here.”

”People say quite right--at least she would have starved in, a Yiddishe country, not in a land of heathens.”

”But she was lonely and miserable out there, exposed to all the malice of the Christians. And I was earning a pound a week. Tailoring was a good trade then. The few roubles I used to send her did not always reach her.”