"But, if I do say it myself, he's been a good boy to his mother." "Now, mamma, don't begin--" "I always said to him, Ruby, looks in a girl don't count the most--such girls as you see nowadays, with their big ideas, ain't worth house-room. I always say to him, Ruby, a girl that ain't ashamed to work and knows the value of a dollar, and can help a young man save and get a start without such big ideas like apartments and dummy waiters--" "Honest, wouldn't you think this was a funeral! Mamma, to-night we have a party--not? I go down and get up that bottle of wine!" "_Himmel!_ My _Pfannkuechen_! Yes, Abie, run down in the cellar; on the top shelf it is, under the grape-jelly row--left yet from poor papa's last birthday. _Ach_, Ruby, you should have known poor papa--that such a man could have been taken before his time! Sit down, Ruby, while I dish up." The tears dried on Mrs. Ginsburg's cheeks, leaving the ravages of dry paths down them; Mr. Ginsburg's footsteps clacked down the bare flight of stairs. "Abie! Oh, Abie!" "Yes, mamma!" His voice came up remotely from two flights down, like a banshee voice drifting through a yellow sheol of dim-lit hallway. "Abe, bring up some dill pickles from the jar--there's a dish in the closet." "Yes, I bring them." Between the two women fell silence--a silence that in its brief moment spawned the eggs of a thousand unborn thoughts. From her corner the girl regarded the older woman with a nervous diffidence, her small, black-satin feet curled well inward and round the rungs of the chair. "I--I hope you ain't mad at me, Mrs. Ginsburg--you ain't more surprised than me." A note as thin as sheet tin crept into Mrs. Ginsburg's voice. "He's my boy, Ruby, and what he wants I want. I know you ain't the kind of a girl, Ruby, that won't help my boy along--not? Extravagant ways and high living never got a young couple nowheres. Abie should take out a thousand more life insurance now; and, with economical ways, you got a grand future. For myself I don't care--I ain't so young any more, and--" "You always got a home with us, Mrs. Ginsburg. You won't know yourself, you'll have it so good! If we move you with us out of this dark little flat we--you won't know yourself, you'll have it so good!" "I hope you ain't starting out with no big ideas, Ruby--this flat ain't so dark but it could be worse. For young people with good eyes it should do all right. If it was good enough for Abie's papa and me it--" Mr. Ginsburg burst into the kitchen, a wine-bottle tucked under one arm and a white china dish held at arm's-length.