he
descended, and the _Parnass_ proffered his presidential hand in pious
congratulation upon the holy privilege, all the congregants who found
themselves upon his line of return shot forth their arms with
remorseful eagerness, and thus was Simeon Samuels switched on to the
brotherhood of Sudminsterian Israel. Yet as his now trusting
co-religionists passed his shop on their homeward walk--and many a
pair of legs went considerably out of its way to do so--their eyes
became again saucers of horror and amaze. The broad plate-glass
glittered nakedly, unveiled by a single shutter; the waxen dummy of
the sailor hitched devil-may-care breeches; the gold lace, ticketed
with layers of erased figures, boasted brazenly of its cheapness; the
procession of customers came and went, and the pavement, splashed with
sunshine, remained imperturbably, perturbingly acquiescent.

II

On the Sunday night Solomon Barzinsky and Ephraim Mendel in pious
black velvet caps, and their stout spouses in gold chains and diamond
earrings, found themselves playing solo whist in the _Parnass's_
parlour, and their religious grievance weighed upon the game. The
_Parnass_, though at heart as outraged as they by the new departure,
felt it always incumbent upon him to display his presidential
impartiality and his dry humour. His authority, mainly based on his
being the only retired shopkeeper in the community, was greatly
strengthened by his slow manner of taking snuff at a crisis. 'My dear
Mendel,' observed the wizened senior, flicking away the spilth with a
blue handkerchief, 'Simeon Samuels has already paid his annual
subscription--and you haven't!'

'My money is good,' Mendel replied, reddening.

'No wonder he can pay so quickly!' said Solomon Barzinsky, shuffling
the cards savagely.

'How he makes his money is not the question,' said the _Parnass_
weightily. 'He has paid it, and therefore if I were to expel him, as
you suggest, he might go to Law.'

'Law!' retorted Solomon. 'Can't we prove he has broken the Law of
Moses?'

'And suppose?' said the _Parnass_, picking up his cards placidly. 'Do
we want to wash our dirty _Talysim_ (praying-shawls) in public?'

'He is right, Solomon,' said Mrs. Barzinsky. 'We should become a
laughing-stock among the heathen.'

'I don't believe he'd drag us to the Christian courts,' the little man
persisted. 'I pass.'

The rubber continued cheerlessly. 'A man who keeps his shop open on
Sabbath is capable of an