“Miriam, get up!  I want you should throw this quilt from your bed over the brass table in the parlor so it don’t get rust.  Miriam, didn’t you say yourself last night you must get up early?  Always only at night my children got mouths about how early they get up.”

From the soft mound of her couch Miriam rose to the dawn with the beautiful gesture of tossing backward her black hair.  Sleep trembled on her lashes and she yawned frankly with her arms outflung.

“Oh-h-h-h-h dear!”

“I tell you I got more gumption as my daughters.  I want, Miriam, you should go down by Berkovitz’s for that prescription for your papa.”

“Aw, now, mamma, you’ve got six different kinds of—­”

“I tell you when I let your papa get seasick or any kind of sick on this trip, with his going-on about hisself, right away my whole trip is spoilt.  Ray, if you don’t get up and sew in them cuffs and collars on your coat don’t expect as I will do it for you.  For my part you can travel just like a rag-bag, Ray!”

“M-m-m-m.”

Shivering and with her small ankles pressed together, Miriam peered out into the pale light.

“A grand day, mamma.”

“Miriam, I think if I sew all the express checks up in a bag and wear them right here under my waist with the jewelry, they are better as in papa’s pockets.  With his tobacco-bag, easy as anything he can pull them out and lose them.  That’s what we need yet, to lose our express checks!”

“Mamma, that’s been on your mind for ten days.  For goodness’ sakes, nobody’s going to lose the express checks!”

“What time they call for the trunks, Miriam?”

“For goodness’ sakes, mamma, didn’t I tell you exactly ten times that’s all been attended to!  Yesterday Irving went direct to the transfer office with me.”

“I ain’t so sure of nothing what I don’t attend to myself.  Ray, get up!”

The sun rose over the roofs of the city, gilding them.  At seven o’clock the household was astir, strapping, nailing, folding, and unfolding.  Mr. Binswanger stooped with difficulty over his wicker traveling-bag.

“So!  Na!”

In the act of adjusting her perky new hat Miriam flung out an intercepting hand.  “Oh, papa, you mustn’t put in that old flannel house-coat.  That’s not fit to wear anywhere but at home.  And, papa, papa, you just mustn’t take along that old black skull-cap; you’ll be laughing-stock!  Papa, please!”

He flung her off.  “In my house and out of my house what I want to wear I wear.  If in Naples them Eyetalians don’t like what I wear, then—­”

“Italians, papa; how many times have I told you to say it Italians?”

“When they don’t like what I wear over there, right away they should lump it.”

“Papa, please!”

From the room adjoining Mrs. Binswanger leaned a crumpled coiffure through the frame of the open door:  “Simon, I got here that red woolen undershirt.  I want you should put it on before we start.”