or the doctor."

Ginzburg cast a look at the child, a chill went through him, he ran to
the door.

The doctor came in person.

"Our child is dying! Help save it!" wailed the unhappy mother, and he,
Ginzburg, stood and shivered as with cold.

The doctor scrutinized the child, and said:

"The crisis is coming on." There was something dreadful in the quiet of
his tone.

"What can be done?" and the Ginzburgs wrung their hands.

"Hush! Nothing! Bring some hot water, bottles of hot
water!--Champagne!--Where is the medicine? Quick!" commanded the doctor.

Everything was to hand and ready in an instant.

The doctor began to busy himself with the child, the parents stood by
pale as death.

"Well," asked Dobe, "what?"

"We shall soon know," said the doctor.

Ginzburg looked round, glided like a shadow into a corner of the room,
and lit the little lamp that stood there.

"What is that for?" asked Dobe, in a fright.

"Nothing, Yohrzeit--my mother's," he answered in a strange voice, and
his hands never ceased trembling.

"Your child will live," said the doctor, and father and mother fell upon
the child's bed with their faces, and wept.

The flame in the lamp burnt brighter and brighter.

SLACK TIMES THEY SLEEP

Despite the fact of the winter nights being long and dark as the Jewish
exile, the Breklins go to bed at dusk.

But you may as well know that when it is dusk outside in the street, the
Breklins are already "way on" in the night, because they live in a
basement, separated from the rest of the world by an air-shaft, and when
the sun gathers his beams round him before setting, the first to be
summoned are those down the Breklins' shaft, because of the time
required for them to struggle out again.

The same thing in the morning, only reversed. People don't usually get
up, if they can help it, before it is really light, and so it comes to
pass that when other people have left their beds, and are going about
their business, the Breklins are still asleep and making the long, long
night longer yet.

If you ask me, "How is it they don't wear their sides out with lying in
bed?" I shall reply: They _do_ rise with aching sides, and if you say,
"How can people be so lazy?" I can tell you, They don't do it out of
laziness, and they lie awake a great part of the time.

What's the good of lying in bed if one isn't asleep?

There you have it in a nutshell--it's a question of the economic
conditions. The