“Think only, Mammele--David is graduating for a doctor in a week!” I gave a hurry in to my mother that night. “And his Uncle Rosenberg is coming special from Boston and says he’ll start him up in his doctor’s office.” “Oi weh, the uncle is going to give a come, you say? Look how the house looks! And the children in rags and no shoes on their feet!” The whole week before the uncle came, my mother and I was busy nights buying and fixing up, and painting the chairs, and nailing together solid the table, and hanging up calendar pictures to cover up the broken plaster on the wall, and fixing the springs from the sleeping lounge so it didn’t sink in, and scrubbing up everything, and even washing the windows, like before Passover. I stopped away from the shop, on the day David was graduating. Everything in the house was like for a holiday. The children shined up like rich people’s children, with their faces washed clean and their hair brushed and new shoes on their feet. I made my father put away his black shirt and dress up in an American white shirt and starched collar. I fixed out my mother in a new white waist and a blue checked apron, and I blowed myself to dress up the baby in everything new, like a doll in a window. Her round, laughing face lighted up the house, so beautiful she was. By the time we got finished the rush to fix ourselves out, the children’s cheeks was red with excitement and our eyes was bulging bright, like ready to start for a picnic. When David came in with his uncle, my father and mother and all the children gave a stand up. But the “Boruch Chabo” and the hot words of welcome, what was rushing from us to say, froze up on our lips by the stiff look the uncle throwed on us. David’s uncle didn’t look like David. He had a thick neck and a red face and the breathing of a man what eats plenty.--But his eyes looked smart like David’s. He wouldn’t take no seat and didn’t seem to want to let go from the door. David laughed and talked fast, and moved around nervous, trying to cover up the ice. But he didn’t get no answers from nobody. And he didn’t look in my eyes, and I was feeling myself ashamed, like I did something wrong which I didn’t understand. My father started up to say something to the uncle--“Our David--” But I quick pulled him by the sleeve to stop. And nobody after that could say nothing, nobody except David. I couldn’t get up the heart to ask them to give a taste from the cake and the wine what we made ready special for them on the table. The baby started crying for a cake, and I quick went over to take her up, because I wanted to hide myself with being busy with her. But only the crying and nothing else happening made my heart give a shiver, like bad luck was in the air. And right away the uncle and him said good-bye and walked out. When the door was shut the children gave a rush for the cakes, and then burst out in the street.