to which the first party replied
that the constitution should be altered, as being too ancient, and
contrary to the spirit of the times. At this the second party raised a
clamor, crying that the rules could not be altered, because they were
Toras-Lokshen and every letter, every stroke, every dot was a law in
itself! The city papers were obliged to publish daily accounts of the
meetings that were held to discuss the hole in a Beigel, and the papers
also took sides, and wrote fiery polemical articles on the subject. The
quarrel spread through the city, until all the inhabitants were divided
into two parties, the Beigel-with-a-hole party and the
Beigel-without-a-hole party. Children rose against their parents, wives
against their husbands, engaged couples severed their ties, families
were broken up, and still the battle raged--and all on account of the
hole in a Beigel!

AS THE YEARS ROLL ON

Rosalie laid down the cloth with which she had been dusting the
furniture in her front parlor, and began tapping the velvet covering of
the sofa with her fingers. The velvet had worn threadbare in places, and
there was a great rent in the middle.

Had the rent been at one of the ends, it could have been covered with a
cushion, but there it was, by bad luck, in the very centre, and making a
shameless display of itself: Look, here I am! See what a rent!

Yesterday she and her husband had invited company. The company had
brought children, and you never have children in the house without
having them leave some mischief behind them.

To-day the sun was shining more brightly than ever, and lighting up the
whole room. Rosalie took the opportunity to inspect her entire set of
furniture. Eight years ago, when she was given the set at her marriage,
how happy, she had been! Everything was so fresh and new.

She had noticed before that the velvet was getting worn, and the polish
of the chairs disappearing, and the seats losing their spring, but
to-day all this struck her more than formerly. The holes, the rents, the
damaged places, stared before them with such malicious mockery--like a
poor man laughing at his own evil plight.

Rosalie felt a painful melancholy steal over her. Now she could not but
see that her furniture was old, that she would soon be ashamed to
invite people into her parlor. And her husband will be in no hurry to
present her with a new one--he has grown so parsimonious of late!

She replaced the holland coverin