Mendel admitted that Zelde had worn for some time the family trousers, but he believed that he still wore the belt. However, her inexorable decision disillusioned him. He admitted having been caught slightly off his guard. He had never suspected that a type of work existed so near him, into which he might be forced out of sheer necessity. Not that he intended to do it! But still---- “What is a woman?” he reconsidered. “Lightning. It’s nice and bright till it hits you.” The next morning Mendel discovered perpetual motion. The children had taken possession of the house. He dodged flying pillows, tripped over upset furniture, slipped on greasy garbage from an overturned can, found salt in his coffee and something sharper on his seat. He kept constantly moving to avoid falling objects and fell into others. He had planned to have nothing to do with the house, but the house was having a great deal to do with him. The youngsters seemed to be under the impression that with Zelde all law and order had passed away. Mendel found it hard work to change their minds. It was monotonous to spank Lena, then Jakie, then Sammy. Then over again. It would be better to send them off to school. But they had to be dressed and fed and washed for that! He was tempted to snatch his hat and coat and leave the house. But what would he do in the streets? He hesitated, gritted his teeth, and set to work by scrubbing Jakie’s face till it resembled a carrot. “What’s a wife?” he muttered, and Lena started at the question. “A telescope! She makes you see stars!” And some soap got into his eye. “Sammy, don’t you never marry!” he exclaimed with a profound look of warning at the frightened little boy. “What is marriage? First a ring on the finger and later--on the neck. Lena, stop pulling Jakie’s hair. She’s like her mother. Don’t do that, Sammy. A table-cloth ain’t a handkerchief! Ai! Little children, little troubles; big children, big troubles. What is children? Life insurance. Some day they pay you back--when you’re dead. But you like them anyhow. Such is life! You know it’s tough, but you try it once, anyway. “After all, what is life? A journey. What is death? The goal. What is man? A passenger. What is woman? Freight. “Jakie, you bad boy! Don’t cry, Lena. He didn’t mean it. Here’s an apple. Go to school. Sammy, get off the banister! Look out, children! It’s a step missing down there! Who’s crying? Jakie, give her back the apple! Did you ever hear such excitements? My goodness!” Mendel, perspired, exhausted, sank into a chair. “I’m working, after all,” he noted with surprise. “If this lasts, I don’t.”