“God from the world, stop cursing!” admonished Mrs. Pelz. “What do you want from the poor children? Is it their fault that their father makes small wages? Why do you let it all out on them?” Mrs. Pelz sat down beside Hanneh Breineh. “Wait only till your children get old enough to go to the shop and earn money,” she consoled. “Push only through those few years while they are yet small; your sun will begin to shine; you will live on the fat of the land, when they begin to bring you in the wages each week.” Hanneh Breineh refused to be comforted. “Till they are old enough to go to the shop and earn money they’ll eat the head off my bones,” she wailed. “If you only knew the fights I got by each meal. Maybe I gave Abe a bigger piece of bread than Fanny. Maybe Fanny got a little more soup in her plate than Jake. Eating is dearer than diamonds. Potatoes went up a cent on a pound, and milk is only for millionaires. And once a week, when I buy a little meat for the Sabbath, the butcher weighs it for me like gold, with all the bones in it. When I come to lay the meat out on a plate and divide it up, there ain’t nothing to it but bones. Before, he used to throw me in a piece of fat extra or a piece of lung, but now you got to pay for everything, even for a bone to the soup.” “Never mind; you’ll yet come out from all your troubles. Just as soon as your children get old enough to get their working papers the more children you got, the more money you’ll have.” “Why should I fool myself with the false shine of hope? Don’t I know it’s already my black luck not to have it good in this world? Do you think American children will right away give everything they earn to their mother?” “I know what is with you the matter,” said Mrs. Pelz. “You didn’t eat yet to-day. When it is empty in the stomach, the whole world looks black. Come, only let me give you something good to taste in the mouth; that will freshen you up.” Mrs. Pelz went to the cupboard and brought out the saucepan of gefülte fish that she had cooked for dinner and placed it on the table in front of Hanneh Breineh. “Give a taste my fish,” she said, taking one slice on a spoon, and handing it to Hanneh Breineh with a piece of bread. “I wouldn’t give it to you on a plate because I just cleaned up my house, and I don’t want to dirty up more dishes.” “What, am I a stranger you should have to serve me on a plate yet!” cried Hanneh Breineh, snatching the fish in her trembling fingers. “Oi weh! How it melts through all the bones!” she exclaimed, brightening as she ate. “May it be for good luck to us all!” she exulted, waving aloft the last precious bite. Mrs. Pelz was so flattered that she even ladled up a spoonful of gravy. “There is a bit of onion and carrot in it,” she said, as she handed it to her neighbor. Hanneh Breineh sipped the gravy drop by drop, like a connoisseur sipping wine.