me, and I'll give you--O, Mrs. Rosenberg, I'll give you--"

For a little while there was quite a scene at the little grocery, and it
repented Mandoline that she had ever hidden Dotty's hat. The trundle-bed
waked up at both ends and screamed; the black and tan dog, who slept
under the counter in the store, barked lustily; the parrot in the blue
cage called out, "Quit that! quit that!" and Mrs. Rosenberg was afraid a
policeman would come in to inquire the cause of the uproar. She pattered
about in a pair of her husband's cotton-velvet slippers, and tucked all
her little ones into bed again, very much as if they had been clothes in
a boiler, which she was forcing down with a stick. She was a woman who
would be obeyed; and Dotty, finding it of no use to hold out against
fate, went up stairs at last, and lay down beside Mandoline on the
"pin-feathers."

This stolen visit had turned out quite, quite different from her
anticipations. Instead of a delightful supper of some mysterious Jewish
cookery, she had been drinking gall and wormwood. That Lina would not
let her go--THAT was the gall; that her father made her stay--THIS was
the wormwood.

"She is a tough piece," sighed Mrs. Rosenberg, as she laid her weary
limbs to repose; "I didn't know, one while, but she'd get away in spite
of me. I wonder what her father'll pay me. He seems to think this is a
house of correction. Her mother won't be likely to let her stay more than
one day. I'll have on the best table-cloth for breakfast; and along in
the forenoon I'll fetch out some macaroni cakes and lager beer; that'll
coax her up, I guess."

Just then Mrs. Rosenberg down stairs and Dotty Dimple up stairs both fell