"Is that a Polish move?" asked Mr Tomkins.
"It vos de coshtom mit de anshent tribes, my tear sare, vor alles tings, to recommend de family to de protection of de hevins. Vy not now mit all goot Christians?"
"Why not indeed?" added Mrs Tomkins. "May I offer you a glass of raisin wine?"
"Tank you. For de shtomack's sake—yase."
A glass was poured out. It was but decent to offer me another. I paid my compliments to the hostess and the gentlemen, and was about to drink it off, when the enlightened foreigner called upon me in a loud voice to desist.
"Shtay, mein young friend—ve are not de heathen and de cannibal. It is our privilege to live in de Christian society mit de Christian lady. Ve most ask blessing—alvays—never forget—you excuse—vait tree minutes."
It was not for me to protest against so pious a movement, albeit it presented itself somewhat inopportunely and out of place. Mr Levisohn covered his face with one hand, and murmured a few words. The last only reached me. It was "Amen," and this was rather heaved up in a sigh, than articulately expressed.
"Do you like the wine?" asked Jehu, as if he thought it superfine.
"Yase, I like moch—especially de sherry and de port."
Jehu smiled, but made no reply.