"If I had my way," growled da Costa, "he should be excommunicated--a bruiser, a defacer of God's image!" "By gad, no!" cried Grobstock, stirred up. "If you had seen him lick the Badger in thirty-five minutes on a twenty-four foot stage--" "Joseph! Joseph! Remember it is the Sabbath!" cried Mrs. Grobstock. "I would willingly exchange our Dan Mendoza for your David Levi," said da Costa severely. David Levi was the literary ornament of the Ghetto; a shoe-maker and hat-dresser who cultivated Hebrew philology and the Muses, and broke a lance in defence of his creed with Dr. Priestley, the discoverer of Oxygen, and Tom Paine, the discoverer of Reason. "Pshaw! David Levi! The mad hatter!" cried Grobstock. "He makes nothing at all out of his books." "You should subscribe for more copies," retorted Manasseh. "I would if you wrote them," rejoined Grobstock, with a grimace. "I got six copies of his _Lingua Sacra_," Manasseh declared with dignity, "and a dozen of his translation of the Pentateuch." "You can afford it!" snarled Grobstock, with grim humour. "I have to earn my money." "It is very good of Mr. da Costa, all the same," interposed the hostess. "How many men, born to great possessions, remain quite indifferent to learning!" "True, most true," said da Costa. "Men-of-the-Earth, most of them." After supper he trolled the Hebrew grace hilariously, assisted by Yankelé, and ere he left he said to the hostess, "May the Lord bless you with children!" "Thank you," she answered, much moved. "You see I should be so pleased to marry your daughter if you had one." "You are very complimentary," she murmured, but her husband's exclamation drowned hers, "You marry my daughter!" "Who else moves among better circles--would be more easily able to find her a suitable match?" "Oh, in _that_ sense," said Grobstock, mollified in one direction, irritated in another. "In what other sense? You do not think I, a Sephardi, would marry her myself!" "My daughter does not need your assistance," replied Grobstock shortly. "Not yet," admitted Manasseh, rising to go; "but when the time comes, where will you find a better marriage broker? I have had a finger in the marriage of greater men's daughters. You see, when I recommend a maiden or a young man it is from no surface knowledge. I have seen them in the intimacy of their homes--above all I am able to say whether they are of a good, charitable disposition. Good Sabbath!" "Good Sabbath," murmured the host and hostess in farewell. Mrs. Grobstock thought he need not be above shaking hands, for all his grand acquaintances. "This way, Yankelé," said Manasseh, showing him to the door. "I am so glad you were able to come--you must come again." CHAPTER III. SHOWING HOW HIS MAJESTY WENT TO THE THEATRE AND WAS WOOED.