“Doggone you!” Dan muttered; then turned back to the factory, where Master Kohn, his head down and his hands in his pockets, was scuffing sawdust meditatively with the soles of his shoes. Dan likewise scuffed sawdust for a time. “Well,” Sam Kohn said finally, “I guess I better go on home before your mamma comes to turn me out.” “I don’t guess she would,” Dan said, not looking at him, but keeping his gaze upon his own scuffing shoe. “She’s got a good deal o’ politeness about her, and I don’t guess she would. You got a right to stay here long as you want, Sammy. It’s half your factory.” “Not if your family puts me out, it ain’t.” “He had no business to call you that, Sammy.” “To call me which?” “A—a Jew,” said Dan, still keeping his eyes upon the ground. “Why, I am a Jew.” “Well, maybe; but——” Dan paused uncomfortably, then continued: “Well, he didn’t have any right to call you one.” “Yes, he had,” Sam returned, to his friend’s surprise. “He could call me a Jew just the same I could call you English.” “English? I’m not English.” “Well, you’re _from_ English.” “No,” Dan protested mildly. “Not for a couple o’ hundred years, anyway.” “Well, I ain’t from Jews a couple thousand years, maybe.” “But I’m full-blooded American,” said Dan. “So’m I,” Sam insisted. “You’re American from English, and I’m American from Jews. He’s got a right to call me a Jew.” Dan stared at him incredulously. “Don’t you mind it?” “Yes,” Sam admitted, “I do when he says it for a insult. He’s got a right to call me a Jew, but he hasn’t got no right to call me a Jew for a insult.” “Well, he did,” Dan remarked gloomily. “He meant it the way you might call somebody ‘Irish’ or ‘Dutchy’ or ‘Nigger.’” “I know it. He called me dirty and little, too. Well, I am little, but I ain’t no dirtier than what you are, Dan, and you’re his own brother.” “Well, then, you oughtn’t to mind his callin’ you dirty, Sam.” “He wouldn’t call you dirty the same way he would me,” Sam returned shrewdly; and then, after a momentary pause, he sighed and turned to go. But that sigh of his, which had in it the quality of patience, strongly affected Dan’s sympathies, for a reason he could not have explained. “Don’t go, Sammy,” he said. “You don’t have to go just because he——” “Yeh, I better,” Sam said, not looking back, but continuing to move toward the distant gate. “I better go before your mamma comes to put me out.”