ite the aristocrats."

[Illustration: MY FATHER'S PORTRAIT]

And yet, off the stage, we had our little quarrels and tempests,
especially I. I really and truly cannot remember a time when Fetchke
was naughty, but I was oftener in trouble than out of it. I need not
go into details. I only need to recall how often, on going to bed, I
used to lie silently rehearsing the day's misdeeds, my sister
refraining from talk out of sympathy. As I always came to the
conclusion that I wanted to reform, I emerged from my reflections with
this solemn formula: "Fetchke, let us be good." And my generosity in
including my sister in my plans for salvation was equalled by her
magnanimity in assuming part of my degradation. She always replied, in
aspiration as eager as mine, "Yes, Mashke, let us be good."

My mother had less to do than any one with our early training, because
she was confined to the store. When she came home at night, with her
pockets full of goodies for us, she was too hungry for our love to
listen to tales against us, too tired from work to discipline us. It
was only on Sabbaths and holidays that she had a chance to get
acquainted with us, and we all looked forward to these days of
enjoined rest.

On Friday afternoons my parents came home early, to wash and dress and
remove from their persons every sign of labor. The great keys of the
store were put away out of sight; the money bag was hidden in the
featherbeds. My father put on his best coat and silk skull-cap; my
mother replaced the cotton kerchief by the well-brushed wig. We
children bustled around our parents, asking favors in the name of the
Sabbath--"Mama, let Fetchke and me wear our new shoes, in honor of
Sabbath"; or "Papa, will you take us to-morrow across the bridge? You
said you would, on Sabbath." And while we adorned ourselves in our
best, my grandmother superintended the sealing of the oven, the maids
washed the sweat from their faces, and the dvornik scraped his feet at
the door.

My father and brother went to the synagogue, while we women and girls
assembled in the living-room for candle prayer. The table gleamed with
spotless linen and china. At my father's place lay the Sabbath loaf,
covered over with a crocheted doily; and beside it stood the wine
flask and _kiddush_ cup of gold or silver. At the opposite end of the
table was a long row of brass candlesticks, polished to perfection,
with the heavy silver candlesticks in a shorter row in front; f