“Yes, a fireman. She had a red shirt with brass buttons, and a helmet, and a badge, and a hatchet, and a big black mustache, like a regular member of the department. Well, she did look just too funny for any thing. You ought to have been there. You'd have laughed to die. I had a side-ache for a week afterward. She and the match were rivals; and there was quite a lot of betting as to who would come in first. But, as the judge who made the awards said, she did her duty, and _extinguished_ the match. That was pretty good, wasn't it? She got the prize, and the match got an honorable mention.” “And your own costume?” Elias questioned. “What was that like?” “Oh, I went in an ordinary white dress. Mamma thought I was too young to take a character. But next fall--Promise you won't tell. You mustn't breathe a word of it, will you? Next fall, I'm going as an ear of corn.” “Why,” exclaimed Elias, “how can that be managed?” “Oh, we've got it all designed; and my Uncle Wash, he's having some stuff woven on purpose, to represent the kernels. It's right in his line, you know. You wait till you see it. It will be simply the most ideal thing you can possibly imagine. But _please_ don't mention it. Some one else might do it first, and get in ahead of me, if you did.” “You may rely upon me,” Elias vowed. “I'll be as secret as the grave.” The rabbi now rose, and began to make his adieux. Elias followed his example. “You two gentlemen come up here to dinner next Sunday afternoon, will you?” demanded Mr. Koch. Before Elias had had a chance to decline, if he had been disposed to do so, the rabbi replied, “We will, with pleasure. Thank you.” On the way home, “Well,” the rabbi asked, “did you have a good time?” “Oh, fair,” returned Elias. “Queer set, aren't they?” “Well, they have certain mannerisms, yes. But you mustn't mind a superficial thing like that. They talk too loud, and their grammar isn't of the choicest; but they're thoroughly kind-hearted and well-meaning; and they're not wanting in brains, either, though they may be a trifle unpolished. Mr. Koch himself is a remarkably intelligent man, a man of ideas. You get to talking to him sometime, and you'll find out. How did you like that little Miss Morgenthau?” “Oh, she's quite amusing. Not a bad little thing. Very raw and untamed, but good-natured enough, I dare say.” “Her father, Reuben Morgenthau, was a professional, musician--one of the best pianists I ever heard; and she is said to have inherited his talent. He was lost at sea when she was a baby. Good-looking girl, isn't she? I suppose Washington I. Koch will make her a handsome settlement, when she gets married. Yes, I suppose he'll do something very handsome, indeed.” XVI