eally quaint." And to
Ikey, "Not jealousy--jealous."

Ikey bobbed. Before him, like a swathed candle, he upheld his sore
finger.

"Please, Susan!" begged Mrs. Milo, with a look which made her daughter
fall back apologetically. And to Ikey, "How did you come by that wound?"

The truth would not do. And the truth was even now on the very tip of
Ikey's heedless tongue. Sue gave him a little sidewise push. "Mother
dear," she explained, "it was accidental."

Aghast at the very boldness of the statement, Ikey came about upon the
defender. "Ac-ci-den-tal!" he cried; "dat he smashes me in de hand? Oh,
Momsey!"

"Sh! Sh!" implored Sue.

But the worst had happened. Now, voice or no voice, aunt or no aunt,
Ikey must be disciplined. Mrs. Milo caught him by a white sleeve. "Ikey
Einstein!" she breathed, appalled.

"Yes, Missis?"

"Please don't 'Missis' me! What did you call my daughter?"

"I--I mean Miss Milo."

"What did you call my daughter?"

"Mother," pleaded Sue, "it slipped out."

"Do not interrupt me."

"No, mother."

"Answer me, Ikey."

"I says to her, Momsey."

Mrs. Milo glared at the boy, her breast heaving. There was more in her
hostile attitude toward him than the fact that he bore signs of a fracas,
or that he had dared in her hearing to let slip the "Momsey" he so loved
to use. To her, pious as she was (but pious through habit rather than
through any deep conviction), the mere sight of the child was enough to
rouse her anger. She resented his ever having been taken into the choir
of St. Giles, no matter how good his voice might be. She even resented
his having a voice. He was "that little Jew" always, and a living symbol
"in our Christian church" of a "race that had slain the Lord." And it
was all this which added to his sin in daring to look upon her daughter
with an affection that was filial.

"Ikey Einstein,"--she emphasized the name--"haven't you been told never
to address Miss Susan as 'Momsey'?"

"He forgot," urged Sue. "But he won't ever----"

"You're interrupting again----"

"Excuse me."

"How do you expect these boys to be obedient when you don't set them a
good example?" Her sorrowful smile was purely muscular in its origin.

"I am to blame, mother----"

Mrs. Milo returned to the errant soloist. "And you were willfully
disobeying, you wicked little boy!"

A queer look came into Ikey's eyes. His angular face seemed to draw up.
His ears moved under their