“Ah-ah-ah, Sammy! Ah-ah-ah-ah, little lamb! Ah-ah-ah, little bird! Ah-ah-ah-ah, precious heart! Oh, you saved my life; I thought he was killed,” gasped Hanneh Breineh, turning to Mrs. Pelz. “Oi-i!” she sighed, “a mother’s heart! Always in fear over her children. The minute anything happens to them all life goes out of me. I lose my head and I don’t know where I am any more.”
“No wonder the child fell,” admonished Mrs. Pelz. “You should have a red ribbon or red beads on his neck to keep away the evil eye. Wait. I got something in my machine-drawer.”
Mrs. Pelz returned, bringing the boiler and a red string, which she tied about the child’s neck while the mother proceeded to fill the boiler.
A little later Hanneh Breineh again came into Mrs. Pelz’s kitchen, holding Sammy in one arm and in the other an apronful of potatoes. Putting the child down on the floor, she seated herself on the unmade kitchen-bed and began to peel the potatoes in her apron.
“Woe to me!” sobbed Hanneh Breineh. “To my bitter luck there ain’t no end. With all my other troubles, the stove got broke. I lighted the fire to boil the clothes, and it’s to get choked with smoke. I paid rent only a week ago, and the agent don’t want to fix it. A thunder should strike him! He only comes for the rent, and if anything has to be fixed, then he don’t want to hear nothing.
“Why comes it to me so hard?” went on Hanneh Breineh, the tears streaming down her cheeks. “I can’t stand it no more. I came into you for a minute to run away from my troubles. It’s only when I sit myself down to peel potatoes or nurse the baby that I take time to draw a breath, and beg only for death.”
Mrs. Pelz, accustomed to Hanneh Breineh’s bitter outbursts, continued her scrubbing.
“Ut!” exclaimed Hanneh Breineh, irritated at her neighbor’s silence, “what are you tearing up the world with your cleaning? What’s the use to clean up when everything only gets dirty again?”
“I got to shine up my house for the holidays.”
“You’ve got it so good nothing lays on your mind but to clean your house. Look on this little blood-sucker,” said Hanneh Breineh, pointing to the wizened child, made prematurely solemn from starvation and neglect. “Could anybody keep that brat clean? I wash him one minute, and he is dirty the minute after.” Little Sammy grew frightened and began to cry. “Shut up!” ordered the mother, picking up the child to nurse it again. “Can’t you see me take a rest for a minute?”