ELIAS speaks of “day-break”; but it can not accurately be said that the day broke at all that morning. The blackness of the night slowly faded into a dismal, lifeless drab. It rained. The wind blew from the north-east. Under it, the branches of the trees, across in the park, swayed strenuously to and fro. The sparrows, with sadly bedraggled plumage, huddled together upon the window-sills, and raised their voices in noisy disputation, as if thereby seeking to screw their courage up, and not mind the%sorry weather. The milkman's wagon came rattling down the street. The milkman wore a rubber overcoat. His war-whoop sounded less spirited, less defiant, than its wont. By and by Elias looked at his watch. It was getting along toward seven o'clock. Just then somebody rapped upon his studio door. Elias's nerves must indeed have been in a bad way. He started, paled, trembled, recovered himself, and called out, “Come in.” It was the rabbi. “Good morning, Elias,” the rabbi said. “Good morning,” responded Elias, with a none too hospitable inflection. “So, you haven't been abed? You've been sitting up all night?” the rabbi questioned. “How do you know that?” was Elias's counter-question. “I looked for you in your bedroom, and saw that your bed had not been slept in.” “Oh.” After a pause, “What have you been doing, up alone all night?” the rabbi asked. “Lots of things. A man on the eve of his marriage has plenty to do.” The rabbi stood still for a little while, glancing around the room. Then he sat down. At which, Elias rose. “If you'll excuse me,” he said, “I'll go down stairs. I haven't taken my bath yet.” “Have you said your prayers yet?” inquired the rabbi. But Elias was already beyond ear-shot in the hall. When, perhaps a quarter hour later, Elias, emerging from his bath, entered his bedroom, he discovered the rabbi established there at the window. Wheeling about, and facing his nephew, “You didn't answer my question,” the rabbi said. “What question?” “I asked whether you had said your prayers this morning.” “Oh.” “Well, have you?” “No.” “Perhaps lately you have got out of the habit of saying your prayers--yes?” Elias made no reply. He appeared not to have heard. He was busy fastening the buttons into a shirt-bosom. “I'll wait till you've finished dressing,” said the rabbi. He went to the window, and stood looking out. The rabbi's presence troubled Elias exceedingly. But, he thought, considering every thing, the least he could do would be to put up with it as graciously as possible and not grumble. “What do you want with me, any how?” it was his impulse to demand. But he held his tongue, and proceeded with his toilet. When at last he had tied his cravat and buttoned his coat, “Are you ready now to come down stairs with me?” the rabbi began. “What for?” “Several things. Are you ready? Will you come?” “Oh, I suppose so,” Elias answered, and followed the old man from the room.