"He didn't give me nothink."
"We sor him hold out his hand to yer," they protested.
"You sor us shake hands, that's what yer 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 pennies 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 agin 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 pennies. 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 one another, as they strolled off moodily, "and he wants us to come here and scream our throats dry without being paid for it. Well, we ain't going to do it. We won't call him Jew any more, if he wants us ever so much. It ain't likely, now, is it? What does he mean by treating us so shabby?" These young rapscallions thought the world was out of joint.
On this Monday night an incident occurred which never came to Aaron's ears. Prissy, hearing of the annoyance to which the Cohens were subjected, made her appearance as the boys were wandering disconsolately away, and without wasting time in asking questions, darted like a tiger-cat upon the biggest of them, and fixed her fingers in his hair. She had left Victoria Regina asleep on the coals in her aunt's shop, and had, so to speak, girded up her loins for the contest, by pinning up her ragged skirts and tucking up her sleeves to the shoulder. "What's that for?" cried the boy, struggling to get free. Prissy vouchsafed no explanation; the only words she uttered were addressed to the other boys. "Fair play. One at a time. I'm only a gal." Chivalry was not dead. They stood round the combatants, and witnessed the fight without interfering. It was a desperate encounter. Many an ugly blow did Prissy receive; but she depended upon her talons, and pulled such quantities of hair out of the big boy's head, and scratched his face so dreadfully, that he was at length driven to tears and entreaties to her to leave off. "Do yer want any more?" screamed Prissy, whose breath was almost gone. The big boy's answer was to run away, whimpering, and the other boys hooted him as he fled. "Would any other boy like to come on?" demanded the panting Prissy. Not one accepted the challenge, and Prissy, glaring at them as they followed their vanquished comrade, went back to Victoria Regina, and shed copious tears of indignant satisfaction over the sleeping babe.
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 cosy little parlour when he related the whole affair to Rachel.
"One shilling and eightpence has it cost me, my love," he said, "and I do not grudge 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.