He would try to figure it out for himself. He concentrated his mind. Their wages would be ... no, not twice as much as the regular rate. He was not so foolish as all that, even if he had never learned accounting. He would give them merely a slight advance over current wages. Well,—and they would accomplish, during the day—why only half as much? The idea! Only half as much! “Well, smarty! Then your goods ...” echoed Uncle Jonah’s words once more. So then, how much dearer would his goods cost him? He was anxious to know, and furrowed his forehead.... “Even as the shepherd watches over his flock....” A snatch of a New Year’s prayer began to hum in his ears. But he dismissed the tune and continued his calculations. His drowsiness overcame him—he could not figure it out: “... Seems to me the reckoning is correct ...” came Chashke’s words again to his mind. He was already falling asleep, but he banished rest. He must think things out. But what could he do? The reckoning was correct. “Who’s telling you to become a boss?” Bah! “She’s a big fool, is Chashke.... At times she speaks the most arrant nonsense,” he corrected himself. He had merely been a trifle too hasty with his employés; he should have thought it over before accosting them. But he had made no contract with them—he had simply made a mistake. But just the same they would work under the best of conditions. He would never speak a harsh word to them!... There. Now he would go to sleep. The rest of the matter he would think out the following day. He would undress and go to bed. And should he make up with Chyenke as he passed her? He would come quietly up to her, embrace her and give her a kiss. Such a beautiful wifey! And so industrious! Such a fiery woman! Something drew him irresistibly towards her. But he controlled himself. He did not quite know what he would do the next day. And again, he had a strong feeling that he need not yet surrender.... He became deeply depressed. He longed for Chyenke. He wanted to call her by her name, to go to her—and fell asleep upon the sofa with the thought that his employés would work under the very best conditions. * * * * * “Ha! He did it, just to spite me! He lay all night on the sofa!... For my part may you lie there forever!” These were Chyenke’s first words when she opened her eyes next morning and beheld her husband upon the sofa. Drabkin was about to reply with words of affection. He felt like playing with her. He still experienced the powerful attraction of the night before. Yet he wished to remain angry still. He simply could not relinquish the idea that in his shop the workers would enjoy entirely different conditions. He made no reply to Chyenke’s words and became sullen.