"You make them to-day--but to-morrow? There is no certainty about them. Work of whatever kind is by its very nature unreliable. At any moment trade may be slack. People may become less pious, and you lose your Synagogue-knocking. Or more pious--and they won't want congregation-men." "But new Synagogues spring up," urged Yankelé. "New Synagogues are full of enthusiasm," retorted Manasseh. "The members are their own congregation-men." Yankelé had his roguish twinkle. "At first," he admitted, "but de _Schnorrer_ vaits his time." Manasseh shook his head. "_Schnorring_ is the only occupation that is regular all the year round," he said. "Everything else may fail--the greatest commercial houses may totter to the ground; as it is written, 'He humbleth the proud.' But the _Schnorrer_ is always secure. Whoever falls, there are always enough left to look after _him_. If you were a father, Yankelé, you would understand my feelings. How can a man allow his daughter's future happiness to repose on a basis so uncertain as work? No, no. What do you make by your district visiting? Everything turns on that." "Tventy-five shilling a veek!" "Really?" "Law of Moses! In sixpences, shillings, and half-crowns. Vy in Houndsditch alone, I have two streets all except a few houses." "But are they safe? Population shifts. Good streets go down." "Dat tventy-five shillings is as safe as Mocatta's business. I have it all written down at home--you can inspect de books if you choose." "No, no," said Manasseh, with a grand wave of his stick. "If I did not believe you, I should not entertain your proposal for a moment. It rejoices me exceedingly to find you have devoted so much attention to this branch. I always held strongly that the rich should be visited in their own homes, and I grieve to see this personal touch, this contact with the very people to whom you give the good deeds, being replaced by lifeless circulars. One owes it to one's position in life to afford the wealthy classes the opportunity of charity warm from the heart; they should not be neglected and driven in their turn to write cheques in cold blood, losing all that human sympathy which comes from personal intercourse--as it is written, 'Charity delivers from death.' But do you think charity that is given publicly through a secretary and advertised in annual reports has so great a redeeming power as that slipped privately into the hands of the poor man, who makes a point of keeping secret from every donor what he has received from the others?" "I am glad you don't call collecting de money vork," said Yankelé, with a touch of sarcasm which was lost on da Costa. "No, so long as the donor can't show any 'value received' in return. And there's more friendship in _such_ a call, Yankelé, than in going to a house of mourning to pray for a fee." "Oh," said Yankelé, wincing. "Den p'raps you strike out all my Year-Time item!" "Year-Time! What's that?"