520 ASCH
their dinner, I forget, and lay a plate for my Yitzchokel too, and when I remember that he has his meals at other people's hands, I begin to cry."
"Go along with you for a foolish woman!" answered Yente. "How would he turn out if he were left to you ? What is a poor person to give a child to eat, when you come to think of it?"
"You are right, Yente," Taube replied, "but when I portion out the dinner for the others, it cuts me to the heart,"
And now, as she sat by the hearth cooking the chil- dren's supper, the same feeling came over her, that they had stolen her Yitzchokel away.
When the children had eaten and gone to bed, she stood the lamp on the table, and began mending a shirt for Yitzchokel.
Presently the door opened, and he, Yitzchokel, came in.
Yitzchokel was about fourteen, tall and thin, his pale face telling out sharply against his black cloak beneath his black cap.
"Good evening !" he said in a low tone.
The mother gave up her place to him, feeling that she owed him respect, without knowing exactly why, and it was borne in upon her that she and her poverty together were a misfortune for Yitzchokel.
He took a book out of the case, sat down, and opened it.
The mother gave the lamp a screw, wiped the globe with her apron, and pushed the lamp nearer to him.
