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"I would if I could, but I can't." "But you can have an eighth for nine shillings." Mrs. Hyams shook her head hopelessly. "How is your son Daniel?" Sugarman asked. "Pretty well, thank you. How is your wife?" "Tank Gawd!" "And your Bessie?" "Tank Gawd! Is your Daniel in?" "Yes." "Tank Gawd! I mean, can I see him?" "It won't do any good." "No, not dat," said Sugarman.
We all looked at Miss Hyams, but she was looking for some papers in her desk. 'Look how Miss Hyams works! said the Head Mistress. 'She never grumbles, she never asks for a holiday! We all looked again at Miss Hyams, but she hadn't yet found the papers. There was an awful silence; you could have heard a pin drop. There wasn't a single cough or rustle of a dress.
"I am very glad to have such phylacteries on my arm, as you put it," he responded. "I fancy I should be a good deal froomer if my phylacteries were like that." "What, aren't you frooms?" she said, as they joined the hungry procession in which she noted Bessie Sugarman on the arm of Daniel Hyams. "No, I'm a regular wrong'un," he replied. "As for phylacteries, I almost forget how to lay them."
Hyams, found herself left to the same invaluable assistant, and, realizing her failure, would at once become cheerful and take what was offered. Mr. Hyams' methods of business were quiet and unostentatious, and rumor had it that he might retire at any time and live in luxury. It was a cold, cheerless afternoon in November as Mr.
It same from old Hyams, who had been sitting quietly with brow corrugated under his black velvet koppel. "Mr. Levine," he said, in low grave tones, "I have been thinking, and I am afraid that what you have done is serious." The earnestness of his tones arrested the attention of the company. The laughter ceased. "What do you mean?" said Samuel.
In like manner did Melchitsedek Pinchas approach Hiram Lyons and Simon Gradkoski, the former a poverty-stricken pietist who added day by day to a furlong of crabbed manuscript, embodying a useless commentary on the first chapter of Genesis; the latter the portly fancy-goods dealer in whose warehouse Daniel Hyams was employed.
I heard Miss Hyams make fun of a teacher because she wore the same dress as last winter. I don't think I should like to be a teacher after all, though it is nice to be able to stand with your back to the fire in the winter. The girls would know " Esther stopped and blushed. "Would know what, dear?" "Well, they would know father," said Esther in low tones.
Sugarman always carried him so as to demonstrate this fact. Sugarman himself was rigged out in a handsome manner, and the day not being holy, his blue bandanna peeped out from his left coat-tail, instead of being tied round his trouser band. "Good morning, marm," he said cheerfully. "Good morning, Sugarman," said Mrs. Hyams. She was a little careworn old woman of sixty with white hair.
Her English words rarely went beyond two syllables. "Ah!" said Sugarman. "But I've come to give you back your corkscrew." "Why, it's broken," said Mrs. Hyams, as she took it. "So it is, marm," he admitted readily. "But if you taink dat I ought to pay for de damage you're mistaken.
"This is my friend," said Mr. Hyams, as they entered the parlor and closed the door. "You might let him see the stone." The seaman took off his belt again, and placing the diamond in his hand held it before the stranger who, making no attempt to take it, turned it over with his finger and examined it critically. "Are you going to sea again just yet?" he inquired softly.
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