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You ain't no Krisht; you should better have no kind feelings over Krishts, neither; your papa could to have a mad." "Teacher ain't no Krisht," said Morris stoutly; "all the other fellows buys her presents, und I'm loving mit her too; it's polite I gives her presents the while I'm got such a kind feeling over her." "Well, we ain't got no money for buy nothings," said Mrs. Mogilewsky sadly.
Mogilewsky, placated and bland, resumed: "I excuse her the while she ain't so awful old. She makes, sometimes, mistakes too. I like you should come the both on my house for see me some day. That makes me glad in mine heart." "Oh mamma, mamma," cried Morris, "they couldn't to come by our house. They is Krishts. She is Krishts und he is Krishts. From long she tells me. Und you says, you says "
"No, we had no elephants," Teacher was forced to admit. "But we had a turtle and a monkey." "Did your papa have a organ?" asked Sadie Gonorowsky. "Organs mit monkeys is stylish for mans." "Think shame how you says!" cried her cousin Eva reproachfully. "Teacher ain't no Ginney. Organs ain't for Sheenies. They ain't for Krishts even. They all, all for Ginneys."
And then still more courteously: "It's a lie. You couldn't to know about Krishts." "But I do know all about them, Morris dear. I'm a Christian." Again Morris remembered his manners. Again he replied in his courtly phrase: "It's a lie." As he said it, with a bewitching rising inflection, it was almost a caress. "It's a lie. Teacher fools. You couldn't to be no Krisht.
I seen her on the street once und she had looks off of Krishts. I don't need no Krishts. You don't need them neither. They ain't for us. You ain't so big like I could to tell you how they makes mit us in Russia. I don't like you should hold so much over no Krisht. For us they is devils."
"Teacher, no ma'an, Missis Bailey, I ain't got no scare over Krishts, on'y they ain't no friends for ladies. My papa says like that on my auntie, und my auntie she's married now mit a stylish floorwalker. We'm got a Krisht in our house for boarder, so I know. But you couldn't to know 'bout Krishts." "Yes, I do. They're very nice people." "No ma'an," said Morris gently.
This was the operation that led to the comical, but pathetic, "Mothers' Riots" in the New York schools. The word went forth, "The Krishts are cutting the throats of your children"; and, with the shameful echoes of Kishineff ringing in their ears, the Yiddish mothers swarmed forth to battle for the lives of their offspring.
You ain't got no looks off of Krishts." Teacher was mildly surprised. She was as Irish as Patrick Brennan and, in her own way, she looked it. Truly her eyes were brown, but the face and the faith of her fathers were still strongly hers. Morris, meanwhile, examined his sovereign with admiring eyes.
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