Nobody--not even to remark the pale young man walking round and round among the people, dragging after him a still paler child. It is his third round; but nobody notices him. One is under a seat looking for his boots, another finds somebody has taken his goloshes by mistake or dropped candle-grease on his hat, and all are hungry. He looks vainly into their faces; he cannot catch a single glance. "Father, let us go home," begs the child. "We will go round once more," he answers, "and look for uncle." Meantime the congregation is preparing to leave. The last Kaddish is said, the last Amen! The congregation make a rush for the door, carrying along with them the young man and the child. In the court of the Shool the men begin to recite the blessing on the moon. The women walk away down both sides of the street, forming two white fillets. On the way home, there is time to count how many women really fainted; how many nearly fainted; and to discuss the reader, who grew hoarser this year than he had ever done before. At every house-door two or three people say good-bye to the rest and go in, while the majority are still in the court of the Shool, gesticulating toward the moon. The pale young man and the pale child still circulate among them. The crowd lessens, and his face darkens; now the last has finished and gone. The young man remains. "Not one; well, we must do without. I am not going to beg into a new year, just after the Day of Atonement,"[8] he murmured, with quivering lips. The child thinks he is saying the moon-prayer. "Enough now, father," and he took hold of the man's coat. "Come home!" His voice was full of tears. "Silly child, why are you in such a hurry?" "I want to eat; I'm hungry." "I should think so! Of course, you are hungry, you rogue; you needn't tell me that. Was I likely to think that you wouldn't be, after fasting through a whole Day of Atonement?" "Come home!" begs the child again. "Look here, David'l, there's nothing to eat at home, either." "Just a bit of bread!" "There isn't a scrap!" The child stands still in alarm. "David'l," say the father, "you know what day this has been?" The child only sobs quietly. "To-day, David'l, was the Day of Atonement--a Yôm kodesh.[9] Do you know what that means?" Yes, the child just nodded. "Well, tell me, David'l, what have we done all day?" "Prayed," wept the child. "Right! And He whose Name is blessed, what has _He_ done?" "Forgiven us!" (sobbing). "Well, do you know, David'l, if God, blessed be He, has forgiven us, I think we ought to be cheerful, don't you?" The child makes no reply. "You remember, David'l, last year, when mother was alive, how we sang after supper, to a new tune? Do you remember the tune? "No." "I will sing it to remind you, only you must join in." And the young man began to sing in a weak, hoarse voice. It was not a "Sinni" and not a "Wallach" tune, but it was a gruesome tune that went to one's heart.