The Rabbi sighed sympathetically and slipped half-a-crown into Moses’s palm.  Then he hurried out.  His boy, Levi, stayed behind a moment to finish a transaction involving the barter of a pea-shooter for some of Solomon’s buttons.  Levi was two years older than Solomon, and was further removed from him by going to a “middle class school.”  His manner towards Solomon was of a corresponding condescension.  But it took a great deal to overawe Solomon, who, with the national humor, possessed the national Chutzpah, which is variously translated enterprise, audacity, brazen impudence and cheek.

“I say, Levi,” he said, “we’ve got no school to-day.  Won’t you come round this morning and play I-spy-I in our street?  There are some splendid corners for hiding, and they are putting up new buildings all round with lovely hoardings, and they’re knocking down a pickle warehouse, and while you are hiding in the rubbish you sometimes pick up scrumptious bits of pickled walnut.  Oh, golly, ain’t they prime!’”

Levi turned up his nose.

“We’ve got plenty of whole walnuts at home,” he said.

Solomon felt snubbed.  He became aware that this tall boy had smart black clothes, which would not be improved by rubbing against his own greasy corduroys.

“Oh, well,” he said, “I can get lots of boys, and girls, too.”

“Say,” said Levi, turning back a little.  “That little girl your father brought upstairs here on the Rejoicing of the Law, that was your sister, wasn’t it?”

“Esther, d’ye mean?”

“How should I know?  A little, dark girl, with a print dress, rather pretty—­not a bit like you.”

“Yes, that’s our Esther—­she’s in the sixth standard and only eleven.”

“We don’t have standards in our school!” said Levi contemptuously.  “Will your sister join in the I-spy-I?”

“No, she can’t run,” replied Solomon, half apologetically.  “She only likes to read.  She reads all my ‘Boys of England’ and things, and now she’s got hold of a little brown book she keeps all to herself.  I like reading, too, but I do it in school or in Shool, where there’s nothing better to do.”

“Has she got a holiday to-day, too?”

“Yes,” said Solomon.

“But my school’s open,” said Levi enviously, and Solomon lost the feeling of inferiority, and felt avenged.

“Come, then, Solomon,” said his father, who had reached the door.  The two converted part of the half-crown into French loaves and carried them home to form an unexpected breakfast.

Meantime Reb Shemuel, whose full name was the Reverend Samuel Jacobs, also proceeded to breakfast.  His house lay near the Shool, and was approached by an avenue of mendicants.  He arrived in his shirt-sleeves.

“Quick, Simcha, give me my new coat.  It is very cold this morning.”

“You’ve given away your coat again!” shrieked his wife, who, though her name meant “Rejoicing,” was more often upbraiding.