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"Six thousand dollars in the house to-night if there was a cent," said Isadore Kantor. "Hand me my violin please, Esther. I must have scratched it, the way they pushed." "No, son; you didn't. I've already rubbed it up. Sit quiet, darlink!" He was limply white, as if the vitality had flowed out of him. "God! Wasn't it tremendous?"
He went away laughing, however, and bye and bye they quieted down. Madge insisted upon making some hot composition, very strong, and dosing Isadore with it. The drink probably warded off a cold. Izzy admitted to Bobbins that a sister wasn't so bad to "have around" after all.
Ain't you ashamed even on your little brother's birthday to steal from him?" "Ma, gimme the spoon?" "I'll give you the spoon, Isadore Kantor, where you don't want it. If you don't hurry down the way that bell is ringing, not one bite out of your little brother's birthday-cake to-night!" "I'm goin', ain't I?" "Always on my children's birthdays a meanness sets into this house!
"'That is what Baxter said to Isadore; but the cook excused himself by stating that all this happened in a cot, in a dear little cot, where everything was different from everything else in the world, and where he had tried to make you and me happy, and where he himself had been so happy, especially when he saw Mr.
"The studio is very large, with a huge chimney at one end, the supports of which are life-size dogs, modeled by Isadore Bonheur. Portraits of the father and mother in oval frames hang at each side, and a pair of gigantic horns ornaments the centre. The room is decorated with stuffed heads of animals of various kinds, boars, bears, wolves, and oxen; and birds perch in every convenient place."
"There's some herring on the table mamma brought over, and some raw meat and onions. That's some borshtsh on the stove Etta carried all the way over from Hester Street for your supper." "And what for the little mammela?" "I'm fed up, Roody. Mamma closed the store at five to run over with some of that milk-shake like Doctor Aarons said. He sent his little son Isadore over with the prescription.
The girls ignored Tom, Bob and Isadore as they chatted at the breakfast table, and at once they went about their own small affairs, leaving the boys by themselves. Tom and his mates discussed some plan for a few minutes and then Tom sang out: "Who'll go sliding? There's a big bob-sled in the barn and we fixed it up yesterday morning. It will hold the whole crowd.
Only he didn't do it to amuse me. He was like one of those gramophone records when it's getting into its stride. 'Be calm, Isadore, I said. 'Something is troubling you. Tell me all about it. He clicked some more, and then he got it out. 'Say, are you crazy? What did you do it for?
In a wire enclosure are two chamois from the Pyrenees, and further removed from the house, in the wooded part of the park, are enclosures for sheep and deer, each of which knows its mistress. Even the stag, bearing its six-branched antlers, receives her caresses like a pet dog. At the end of one of the linden avenues is a splendid bronze, by Isadore Bonheur, of a Gaul attacking a lion.
"This is no fun. Let's beat it to the house." "Oh, it can't last long this way," said Isadore Phelps. "My goodness! did you ever see it snow harder in your life?" "That I never did," admitted Tom. "I wonder if the girls have come back?" "If they haven't," said Bob, "they'd better wait where they are until this flurry is over."
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