"Well, I must say that I think you deserve what you get for bringing in such a mass of ignorance. Now, you are an American, and a patriotic one. How do you reconcile it with your patriotism to introduce into the body politic such an element of ignorance, superstition, and unrest?"
"Why," said Wolffert, "you don't know our people. The Jew is often an element of ignorance and superstition, though he is not alone in this, but he is never an element of unrest—when he is justly treated," he added after a pause. "But, whatever these people are in this generation, the next generation—the children of this generation—will be useful American citizens. All they require is a chance. Why, the children of these Russian Jews, baited from their own country, are winning all the prizes in the schools," he added, his pale face flushing faintly. "That lad who showed you in is the son of parents who sell second-hand shoes in the next street and cannot speak a word of English, and yet he stands at the head of his class."
"No, second!" I said.
"How do you know?"
"He told me."
"The little rascal! See how proud he is of it," said Wolffert triumphantly.
"He tried to sell me a pair of shoes."
Wolffert chuckled. "Did he?" Then he sobered, catching my thought. "That is the most important thing for him at present, but wait. Let this develop." He tapped his forehead. "He may give you laws equal to Kepler's or a new philosophy like Bacon's. He may solve aerial navigation—or revolutionize thought in any direction—who knows!"
His face had lighted up as he proceeded, and he was leaning forward in his chair, his eyes glowing.
"I know," I said, teasingly. "He'll sell shoes—second-hand ones polished up for new."