"We saw him hold out his hand to you," they protested.
"You saw us shake hands, that's what you saw. Let's get on with the game; we don't want to be kept waiting here all night."
They went on with the game, calling "Jew! Jew! Jew!" half-heartedly. Putting the pecuniary reward out of the question, it was a game that was becoming rather monotonous. They had to call for quite a quarter of an hour before Aaron paid them; and this time he paid them with two pennies only. The children fell on the ground, and scraped the stones for more, but found none, and they retired grumbling, discontented, and suspicious of each other's honesty.
On Friday night, the Sabbath eve, Aaron and Rachel had peace; and on Saturday night the children made their appearance again and gave forth their chorus. Aaron came to the door and stood there smoking his pipe and smiling at them. But he did not throw any money to them. They did not know what to make of it. Their voices grew weaker and weaker, they wandered about discontentedly, they declared it was not fair on Mr. Cohen's part. "We'll try him again on Monday night," they said.
They tried him again on Monday night, and he stood on his steps, commending them, but he gave them no more money. There was no heart whatever now in their invectives. They were not philosophers, and did not know that the course Aaron had pursued had taken the sting out of their tails. "He likes it," they said to each other as they strolled off moodily, "and he wants us to come here and scream our throats dry without being paid for it. Well, we aint going to do it. We won't call him Jew any more if he wants us ever so much. It aint likely, now, is it? What does he mean by treating us so shabby?" These young rapscallions thought the world was out of joint.
In this way it was that Aaron Cohen fought the battle and gained a bloodless victory. He laughed in his sleeve as he thought of it, and laughed aloud in his cozy little parlor when he related the whole affair to Rachel.
"One shilling and eightpence has it cost me, my love," he said, "and I do not begrudge the money. Show me the battle that has been won for less."
Rachel was greatly relieved, but her dominant feeling was admiration for her husband's wisdom.
"I do not believe any other man in the world would have thought of it," she said; and though Aaron shook his head in modest deprecation, he was justified in inwardly congratulating himself upon his astute tactics.
The story got about, and the townspeople were much amused by it. "Mr. Cohen's a clever fellow," they said. He grew to be respected by them, and as the weeks passed by and it was seen that he was not only a fair-dealing but a kindly-hearted man the innuendos which Mr. Whimpole continued to circulate about him produced a very small effect. Mr. Whimpole was not pleased; where is the man who would have been in his position? Talking one night with Rachel over the animosity the
corn-chandler bore toward the Jews, Aaron said: