"Momsey, can it be 'O Mutter Dear, Jerusalem?'"
"Do you like that best?"
"I like it awful much! De first part, she has Mutter in it; und—und also Jerusalem."
Sue kissed him. "And the second verse Momsey likes——
'O happy harbor of God's Saints!
O sweet and pleasant soil!
In Thee no sorrow can be found,
Nor grief, nor care, nor toil!'"
"It's grand!" sighed Ikey.
"You ask the choirmaster if you may sing it. And if he lets you——"
"Goot!" He started away bravely enough. But the Church door reached, he turned and came slowly back. "Momsey," he faltered, "I don't remember my mutter. Vould you, now, mind if—just vonce before you go—if I called you—mutter?"
She put out her arms to him. "Oh, my son! My son!"
With a cry, he flung himself into her embrace, weeping. "Oh, mutter!
Mutter! Mutter!"