“And do you think I was a nobody in Poland?” broke in Hanneh Breineh, tears welling in her eyes as the memories of her past rushed over her. “But what’s the use of talking? In America money is everything. Who cares who my father or grandfather was in Poland? Without money I’m a living dead one. My head dries out worrying how to get for the children the eating a penny cheaper.” Mrs. Pelz wagged her head, a gnawing envy contracting her features. “Mrs. Melker had it good from the day she came,” she said, begrudgingly. “Right away she sent all her children to the factory, and she began to cook meat for dinner every day. She and her children have eggs and buttered rolls for breakfast each morning like millionaires.” A sudden fall and a baby’s scream, and the boiler dropped from Hanneh Breineh’s hands as she rushed into her kitchen, Mrs. Pelz after her. They found the high-chair turned on top of the baby. “Gewalt! Save me! Run for a doctor!” cried Hanneh Breineh, as she dragged the child from under the high-chair. “He’s killed! He’s killed! My only child! My precious lamb!” she shrieked as she ran back and forth with the screaming infant. Mrs. Pelz snatched little Sammy from the mother’s hands. “Meshugneh! What are you running around like a crazy, frightening the child? Let me see. Let me tend to him. He ain’t killed yet.” She hastened to the sink to wash the child’s face, and discovered a swelling lump on his forehead. “Have you a quarter in your house?” she asked. “Yes, I got one,” replied Hanneh Breineh, climbing on a chair. “I got to keep it on a high shelf where the children can’t get it.” Mrs. Pelz seized the quarter Hanneh Breineh handed down to her. “Now pull your left eyelid three times while I’m pressing the quarter, and you’ll see the swelling go down.” Hanneh Breineh took the child again in her arms, shaking and cooing over it and caressing it. “Ah-ah-ah, Sammy! Ah-ah-ah-ah, little lamb! Ah-ah-ah, little bird! Ah-ah-ah-ah, precious heart! Oh, you saved my life; I thought he was killed,” gasped Hanneh Breineh, turning to Mrs. Pelz. “Oi-i!” she sighed, “a mother’s heart! Always in fear over her children. The minute anything happens to them all life goes out of me. I lose my head and I don’t know where I am any more.” “No wonder the child fell,” admonished Mrs. Pelz. “You should have a red ribbon or red beads on his neck to keep away the evil eye. Wait. I got something in my machine-drawer.” Mrs. Pelz returned, bringing the boiler and a red string, which she tied about the child’s neck while the mother proceeded to fill the boiler. A little later Hanneh Breineh again came into Mrs. Pelz’s kitchen, holding Sammy in one arm and in the other an apronful of potatoes. Putting the child down on the floor, she seated herself on the unmade kitchen-bed and began to peel the potatoes in her apron.