“I got something.” The old man put his hands over the heads of the children in silent benediction. “All come in by me. I got sent me a box of cake.” “Cake!” The children cried, catching at the kind hands and snuggling about the shabby coat. “Yes. Cake and nuts and raisins and even a bottle of wine.” The children leaped and danced around him in their wild burst of joy. “Cake and wine--a box--to you? Have the charities gone crazy?” Hanneh Breineh’s eyes sparkled with light and laughter. “No--no,” Shmendrik explained hastily. “Not from the charities--from a friend--for the holidays.” Shmendrik nodded invitingly to Sophie, who was standing in the door of her room. “The roomerkeh will also give a taste with us our party?” “Sure will she!” Hanneh Breineh took Sophie by the arm. “Who’ll say no in this black life to cake and wine?” Young throats burst into shrill cries: “Cake and wine--wine and cake--raisins and nuts--nuts and raisins!” The words rose in a triumphant chorus. The children leaped and danced in time to their chant, almost carrying the old man bodily into his room in the wildness of their joy. The contagion of this sudden hilarity erased from Sophie’s mind the last thought of work and she found herself seated with the others on the cobbler’s bench. From under his cot the old man drew forth a wooden box. Lifting the cover he held up before wondering eyes a large frosted cake embedded in raisins and nuts. Amid the shouts of glee Shmendrik now waved aloft a large bottle of grape-juice. The children could contain themselves no longer and dashed forward. “Shah--shah! Wait only!” He gently halted their onrush and waved them back to their seats. “The glasses for the wine!” Hanneh Breineh rushed about hither and thither in happy confusion. From the sink, the shelf, the window-sill, she gathered cracked glasses, cups without handles--anything that would hold even a few drops of the yellow wine. Sacrificial solemnity filled the basement as the children breathlessly watched Shmendrik cut the precious cake. Mouths--even eyes--watered with the intensity of their emotion. With almost religious fervor Hanneh Breineh poured the grape-juice into the glasses held in the trembling hands of the children. So overwhelming was the occasion that none dared to taste till the ritual was completed. The suspense was agonizing as one and all waited for Shmendrik’s signal. “Hanneh Breineh--you drink from my Sabbath wine-glass!” Hanneh Breineh clinked glasses with Schmendrik. “Long years on you--long years on us all!” Then she turned to Sophie, clinked glasses once more. “May you yet marry yourself from our basement to a millionaire!” Then she lifted the glass to her lips. The spell was broken. With a yell of triumph the children gobbled the cake in huge mouthfuls and sucked the golden liquid. All the traditions of wealth and joy that ever sparkled from the bubbles of champagne smiled at Hanneh Breineh from her glass of California grape-juice.