wife came bustling out in alarm and saw a carcass hanging over an iron bucket that stood in the passage.  And she knew that it was the act of a Christian and she took up the carrion to bury it when Lo! a rain of gold-pieces came from the stomach ripped up by the sharp rim of the vessel.  And she called to her husband.  “Hasten!  See what Elijah the prophet hath sent us.”  And she scurried into the market-place and bought wine and unleavened bread, and bitter herbs and all things necessary for the Seder table, and a little fish therewith which might be hastily cooked before the Festival came in, and the old couple were happy and gave the monkey honorable burial and sang blithely of the deliverance at the Red Sea and filled Elijah’s goblet to the brim till the wine ran over upon the white cloth.

Esther gave a scornful little sniff as the thought of this happy denouement flashed upon her.  No miracle like that would happen to her or hers, nobody was likely to leave a dead monkey on the stairs of the garret—­hardly even the “stuffed monkey” of contemporary confectionery.  And then her queer little brain forgot its grief in sudden speculations as to what she would think if her four and sevenpence halfpenny came back.  She had never yet doubted the existence of the Unseen Power; only its workings seemed so incomprehensibly indifferent to human joys and sorrows.  Would she believe that her father was right in holding that a special Providence watched over him?  The spirit of her brother Solomon came upon her and she felt that she would.  Speculation had checked her sobs; she dried her tears in stony scepticism and, looking up, saw Malka’s gipsy-like face bending over her, breathing peppermint.

“What weepest thou, Esther?” she said not unkindly.  “I did not know thou wast a gusher with the eyes.”

“I’ve lost my purse,” sobbed Esther, softened afresh by the sight of a friendly face.

“Ah, thou Schlemihl!  Thou art like thy father.  How much was in it?”

“Four and sevenpence halfpenny!” sobbed Esther.

“Tu, tu, tu, tu, tu!” ejaculated Malka in horror.  “Thou art the ruin of thy father.”  Then turning to the fishmonger with whom she had just completed a purchase, she counted out thirty-five shillings into his hand.  “Here, Esther,” she said, “thou shalt carry my fish and I will give thee a shilling.”

A small slimy boy who stood expectant by scowled at Esther as she painfully lifted the heavy basket and followed in the wake of her relative whose heart was swelling with self-approbation.

Fortunately Zachariah Square was near and Esther soon received her shilling with a proportionate sense of Providence.  The fish was deposited at Milly’s house, which was brightly illuminated and seemed to poor Esther a magnificent palace of light and luxury.  Malka’s own house, diagonally across the Square, was dark and gloomy.  The two families being at peace, Milly’s house was the headquarters of