"And they will return for more," said Aaron with complacency. "At the present moment I should judge that they are engaged in a fierce contest. When that look comes into your face, my dear, it is an indication that I have said something you do not exactly understand. I threw to them seven apples of discord, which the nimblest and the strongest seized and fled with. But each soldier conceived he had a right to at least one of the apples, and those who were left empty-handed labored under a sense of wrong. They had been robbed by their comrades. After them they rushed to obtain their portion of the spoils of war. Then ensued a grand scrimmage in which noses are injured and eyes discolored. I am not there, but I see the scene clearly with my mind's eye." He took a sovereign from his pocket and regarded it contemplatively. "Ah, root of much evil and of much good, what have you not to answer for? Rachel, my love, take heart of courage, and when you hear those boys shouting outside to-morrow night do not be alarmed. Trust in me; everything will come right in the end." The scene which Aaron had drawn from his imagination was as near as possible to the truth. There had been a battle royal between the boys and girls for possession of the pennies; noses were put out of joint, eyes were discolored, words of injurious import exchanged, and bad blood engendered. The sevenpence for which they fought would not have paid for the repairs to the clothes which were torn and rent during the fray. The end of it was that the robbers, after being kicked and cuffed ignominiously, were not allowed to join in a compact made by the penniless, to the effect that they would assemble outside Aaron Cohen's shop to-morrow night and repeat the tactics which had been so well rewarded, and that all moneys received should be equally divided between the warriors engaged. One, Ted Kite, was appointed commander, to organize the expedition, and to see fair play. Accordingly, on Tuesday night, a score or so of boys and girls presented themselves in front of the shop and commenced shouting, "Jew! Jew! Jew!" the fugleman being Ted Kite, who proved himself well fitted for the task. "There he is, there he is," said the youngsters eagerly as Aaron made his appearance on the doorstep, and, inspired by their captain, they continued to fire. "Good children, good children," said Aaron, nodding benignantly in approval, and continuing to smoke his silver-mounted pipe. "Very well done, very well done indeed!" "Aint he going to throw us anything?" they asked each other anxiously, their greedy eyes watching Aaron's movements.