"With lemon?" her melancholy voice rouses me.
"Perhaps you prefer milk?" says her father.
"Look out! the milk is smoked!" cries my pupil, warningly.
An exclamation escapes her:
"How can you be so ...!"
Silence once more. Nothing but a sound of sipping and a clink of spoons. Suddenly my pupil is moved to inquire:
"After all, teacher, what is Chanukah?"
"Ask the rabbi to-morrow in school!" says the old man, impatiently.
"Eh!" is the prompt reply, "I should think a tutor knew better than a rabbi!"
The old man casts an angry glance at his son, as if to say: "Do you see?"