"Oh, well," he said, "I can get lots of boys, and girls, too." "Say," said Levi, turning back a little. "That little girl your father brought upstairs here on the Rejoicing of the Law, that was your sister, wasn't it?" "Esther, d'ye mean?" "How should I know? A little, dark girl, with a print dress, rather pretty--not a bit like you." "Yes, that's our Esther--she's in the sixth standard and only eleven." "We don't have standards in our school!" said Levi contemptuously. "Will your sister join in the I-spy-I?" "No, she can't run," replied Solomon, half apologetically. "She only likes to read. She reads all my 'Boys of England' and things, and now she's got hold of a little brown book she keeps all to herself. I like reading, too, but I do it in school or in _Shool_, where there's nothing better to do." "Has she got a holiday to-day, too?" "Yes," said Solomon. "But my school's open," said Levi enviously, and Solomon lost the feeling of inferiority, and felt avenged. "Come, then, Solomon," said his father, who had reached the door. The two converted part of the half-crown into French loaves and carried them home to form an unexpected breakfast. Meantime Reb Shemuel, whose full name was the Reverend Samuel Jacobs, also proceeded to breakfast. His house lay near the _Shool_, and was approached by an avenue of mendicants. He arrived in his shirt-sleeves. "Quick, Simcha, give me my new coat. It is very cold this morning." "You've given away your coat again!" shrieked his wife, who, though her name meant "Rejoicing," was more often upbraiding. "Yes, it was only an old one, Simcha," said the Rabbi deprecatingly. He took off his high hat and replaced it by a little black cap which he carried in his tail pocket. "You'll ruin me, Shemuel!" moaned Simcha, wringing her hands. "You'd give away the shirt off your skin to a pack of good-for-nothing _Schnorrers_." "Yes, if they had only their skin in the world. Why not?" said the old Rabbi, a pacific gleam in his large gazelle-like eyes. "Perhaps my coat may have the honor to cover Elijah the prophet." "Elijah the prophet!" snorted Simcha. "Elijah has sense enough to stay in heaven and not go wandering about shivering in the fog and frost of this God-accursed country." The old Rabbi answered, "Atschew!" "For thy salvation do I hope, O Lord," murmured Simcha piously in Hebrew, adding excitedly in English, "Ah, you'll kill yourself, Shemuel." She rushed upstairs and returned with another coat and a new terror. "Here, you fool, you've been and done a fine thing this time! All your silver was in the coat you've given away!" "Was it?" said Reb Shemuel, startled. Then the tranquil look returned to his brown eyes. "No, I took it all out before I gave away the coat." "God be thanked!" said Simcha fervently in Yiddish. "Where is it? I want a few shillings for grocery." "I gave it away before, I tell you!"