"Hyam Robins couldn't have married Shmool's sister because Shmool's
sister was already the wife of Abraham the fishmonger."

"Yes, but Shmool had two sisters," said Mrs. Jacobs, audaciously
asserting her position as the rival genealogist.

"Nothing of the kind," replied Malka warmly.

"I'm quite sure," persisted Mrs. Jacobs. "There was Phoeby and there was
Harriet."

"Nothing of the kind," repeated Malka. "Shmool had three sisters. Only
two were in the deaf and dumb home."

"Why, that, wasn't Shmool at all," Milly forgot herself so far as to
say, "that was Block the Baker."

"Of course!" said Malka in her most acid tone. "My _kinder_ always know
better than me."

There was a moment of painful silence. Malka's eye mechanically sought
the clothes-brush. Then Ezekiel sneezed. It was a convulsive "atichoo,"
and agitated the infant to its most intimate flannel-roll.

"For thy Salvation do I hope, O Lord," murmured Malka, piously, adding
triumphantly aloud, "There! the _kind_ has sneezed to the truth of it. I
knew I was right."

The sneeze of an innocent child silences everybody who is not a
blasphemer. In the general satisfaction at the unexpected solution of