"Lord of the World!"—it was the eldest daughter who broke the stillness—"Let it be a boy for once! Help, Lord of the World, have pity!"
"Oi, thus might it be, Lord of the World!" chimed in the second.
And all the girls, little and big, with broken heart and prostrate spirit, prayed that there might be born a boy.
Reb Selig raised his eyes from the Gemoreh, glanced at the curtain, then at the seven girls, gave vent to a deep-drawn Oi, made a gesture with his hand, and said with settled despair, "She will give you another sister!"
The seven girls looked at one another in desperation; their father's conclusion quite crushed them, and they had no longer even the courage to pray.
Only the littlest, the four-year-old, in the torn frock, prayed softly:
"Oi, please God, there will be a little brother."
"I shall die without a Kaddish!" groaned Reb Selig.
The time drags on, the moans behind the curtain grow louder, and Reb Selig and the elder girls feel that soon, very soon, the "grandmother" will call out in despair, "A little girl!" And Reb Selig feels that the words will strike home to his heart like a blow, and he resolves to run away.
He goes out into the yard, and looks up at the sky. It is midnight. The moon swims along so quietly and indifferently, the stars seem to frolic and rock themselves like little children, and still Reb Selig hears, in the "grandmother's" husky voice, "A girl!"