“It smells potatoes!”
“Pfui! The pot is empty! It smells over from Cohen’s.”
“Jake grabbed all the bread!”
“Mamma—he kicked the piece out from my hands!”
“Mamma—it’s so empty in my stomach! Ain’t there nothing?”
“Gluttons—wolves—thieves!” Hanneh Breineh shrieked. “I should only live to bury you all in one day!”
The children, regardless of Hanneh Breineh’s invectives, swarmed around her like hungry bees, tearing at her apron, her skirt. Their voices rose in increased clamor, topped only by their mother’s imprecations. “Gotteniu! Tear me away from these leeches on my neck! Send on them only a quick death!… Only a minute’s peace before I die!”
“Hanneh Breineh—children! What’s the matter?” Shmendrik stood at the door. The sweet quiet of the old man stilled the raucous voices as the coming of evening stills the noises of the day.
“There’s no end to my troubles! Hear them hollering for bread, and the grocer stopped to give till the bill is paid. Woe is me! Fannie sent home by the inspector and not a crumb in the house!”
“I got something.” The old man put his hands over the heads of the children in silent benediction. “All come in by me. I got sent me a box of cake.”