The Grandchildren of the Ghetto

by Israel Zangwill

'You were taken away to be educated, was it not?'

'Yes.'

'And how many tongues do you know?'

'Four or five,' said Esther, smiling.

'Four or five!' repeated Mr. Belcovitch, so impressed that he stopped pressing. 'Then you can aspire to be a clerk! I know several firms where they have young women now.'

'Don't be ridiculous, father!' interposed Becky. 'Clerks aren't so grand nowadays as they used to be. Very likely she would turn up her nose at a clerkship.'

'I'm sure I wouldn't,' said Esther.

'There, thou hearest!' said Mr. Belcovitch, with angry satisfaction. 'It is thou who hast too many flies in thy nostrils. Thou wouldst throw over Shosshi if thou hadst thine own way. Thou art the only person in the world who listens not to me. Abroad my word decides great matters. Three times has my name been printed in the Flag of Judah. Little Esther had not such a father as thou, but never did she make mock of him.'

'Of course, everybody's better than me,' said Becky petulantly, as she snatched her fingers away from Shosshi.

'No; thou art better than the whole world,' protested Shosshi Shmendrik, feeling for the fingers.