ellite who disappeared inside barrels and dived head first into huge boxes, coming up again with a lamp, or a doll, or a piece of glassware, like a magician. Fanny, perched on an overturned box,

six gleaming glasses stood revealed, like chicks without a hen mother. A final dip, much scratching and burrowing, during which armfuls of hay and excelsior we

oved of store gossip, and frowned on Sadie and Pearl whenever she found them, their heads close together, their stifled shrieks testifying to his wit. There were times when Molly Brandeis herself c

s'nal pieces. The first day of the fair the grand-stand was, you might say, empty, even when they was pullin' off the trottin' races and the balloon ascension. It's funny-ain't it?-how them garmints that you wouldn't turn for a second look at on the clothesline or in a store winda' becomes kind of wicked and interestin' the min

nday morning to go to early mass, so that he might return to cook the dinner and wait upon the sick woman. Aloysius, whose trousers flapped grotesquely about his bony legs, and whose thin red wrists hung awkwardly from his too-short sleeves, had in him that tender, faithful and courageous stuff of which unsung heroes are made. And he adored h

is no detouring with Mrs. Brandeis for a leader. She is the sort that, once her fac

mendous thing happened. Schabelitz, the famous violinist, came to Winnebago

the usual lyceum attractions-Swiss bell ringers, negro glee clubs, and Family Fours. Instead, Schumann-Heink sang her lieder for them; McCutcheon talked and cartooned for t

in the Winnebago living-room that you are likely to find a prayer rug got in Persia, a bit of gorgeous glaze from China, a scarf from some temple in India, and on it a book, hand-tooled and rare. The Winnebagoans seem to know what is being served and worn, from salad to veilings,

was going with his violin teacher, Emil Bauer. There were strange stories as to why Emil Bauer, with his gift of teaching, should choose to bury himself in this obscure little Wisconsin town

ide-eyed boy who was Theodore Brandeis; a plump, voluble, and excited person who was Emil Bauer; and a short, stocky man

minds of Mrs. Brandeis's children that she was never to be approached when busy with a customer. There were times when they rushed into the store bursting with news or plans, but they had learned to control thei

ore, an hysterical note i

nes. According to all rules he should have started a dramatic speech, beginning with "Madame!" hand on heart. But Schabelitz the great had sprung from Schabelitz the peasant boy, and in the process

, I am honored

plied the shopkeeper in

asure of hearing your so

my economics class at scho

heir devilish scraping! To-day, my friend Bauer met me with that old plea, `You must hear this pupil play. He has genius.' `Bah! Genius!' I said, and I swore at him a little, for he is my frie

gs, Schabelitz. Mr

willing to work, and work, and work. He has what you in America call the spark. To

put one hand on the table that held the fanc

first, in New Yo

eling a little dizzy. At that moment Pearl approached apologetically. "Pardon me, Mis' Brandeis, but Mrs. Trost wa

ved to s

here for myself and my two children. You see what it is-just a novelty and notion store in a country town. I speak of this because it is the important thing. I have known for a long time that Theodore's playing was not the playing o

time to think it over. It mus

as though expecting an immediate solution. His mother's eyes met his own intent ones, and at that her mobile mouth quirked in a sudden smile. "You look as if you expected pearls to pop out of my mouth, s

ther! P

er, alone." She patted his shoulder, and the

" But he looked so startlingly like his father as he s

ry little to discuss, after all. Schabelitz was

of course, receives ten do

dol

ing him play, and after what Schabelitz here will have to say for him, Wolfsohn will certainly give Theodore lessons fo

shoulder "The true musician! Oh, Bauer, Bau

Mrs. Brandeis is a busy woman. And as s

s just beginning to pay. From now on I shall be able to save something every year. It might be enough to cover his musical education. It would mean that Fann

. She sold the little farm, and my sisters gave up their dowries, and with them their hopes of marriage, and they lived on bread and cabbage. That was not to pay for my lessons. They nev

uld do it all over again, if she had

our o'clock! And I have a pupil at four." He turned hastily to Mrs. Brande

" groaned

. Will you let me bring Theodore back with me after the concer

ign bow. "And you, of course, will honor us, M

" Bauer hastene

Manville Smith, in an evening gown whose decolletage was discussed from the Haley House to Gerretson's department store next morning, was always a guest at Bauer's studio affairs. "Thank you, but it is impossible. And Theodore is only a schoolboy. Just

exclaimed Schabelitz.

's protege. But Mrs. Brandeis? No, that would never do. "Well, I must go. We will talk about this again, Mrs. Brandeis. In two weeks Sc

half an hour after Mrs. Brandeis returned from one of her buying trips. Shirtwaists had just come in, and with them those neat leather belts with a buckle, and about the throat they were wearing folds of white satin ribbon, smooth and high and tight, t

secured at wrist and elbow with elastic bands. Her method was sure death to traveling men. She prepared now to try it on

tz!" said Bauer again

woman in Winnebago-" he bowed to Mrs. Brandeis-"will not be there. I know them, these small-town soc

ng it over afterward with Pea

ng as a Lorelei. I guess he thought he had me there, but I didn't go through the seventh reader for nothing. `If you think I'm flattered,' I said to him, `you're mistaken. She was the mess who used to sit out on a rock with her back hair down, combing away and singing like mad, and keeping an eye out for sailors up and down the river. If I had to work that hard to get some attention,' I said, `I'd give up the struggle, and settle down with a cat and a teakettle.' At

Bazaar. He and Sadie and Aloysius were winding up toy bears, and clowns, and engines, and carriages, and sending them madly racing across the floor. Sometimes their careening career was threatened with disaster in

ill that whirls so busily. My Leo is seven, and his head is full of engines, and motors, and thing

" Fanny whispered

e Scha

litz! N

es

a little boy! And laughing! Why, Mother,

e things. I think that is the secret of their genius-the child in them that keeps their viewpoint fresh, and that makes us children

-in-the-box, and each time the absurd head popped out, with its grin and its squawk, he laughed like a boy. Fanny, standing behind the wrapping counter, and leaning on it with her elbows the better to see this great man, smiled too, as her flexible spirit and her mobile mind caught his mood. She did not know she was smiling. Neith

hat lady, happening upon the sketch later, had dealt with Fanny in a manner seemingly unwarranted. In the same way it was not only the exterior likeness of the man which she was catching now-the pompadour that stood stiffly perpendicular like a brush; the square, yellow peasant teeth; the strong, slender hands and wrists; the stocky figure; the high cheek bones; the square-toed, foreign-looking shoes and the trousers too wide at the instep t

, and with a fancy dish to be wrapped, in her hand, glanced ov

n a way that switched her short curls back from where the

mself." With which Molly Brandeis uncon

till below the desk, and reached for the sheet of wrapping paper just beneath that on which Fanny had made her drawin

glorious time. Would you believe it, this jack-in-the-box looks exactly-but exact

Then he grasped her wrist in his fingers of steel and looked at the sketch that grinned back at him impishly. "Well, I'm damned!" explo

y little g

again at the little girl in the school coat and the faded red tam o' shanter

ist." He bent again over the crude, effective cartoon, then put a forefinger gently under the child's chin and tip

together. Their step and swing were very much alike, now that

ist, and its not being fair? What isn't fair? And how did he happen to be in the

the concert, I'll tell you wha

m play, wouldn't you

k. "You could hear him, Fanny, in Theodore's place.

tay home! Why Mrs.-Molly-Brandeis!" Then she broke into a

t to go I'll tell Theodore to g

a pig. I wouldn't have Theodore st

y swung down Norris Street. And she told Fanny br

from Fanny. She was thrilled enough for two. Her food lay almost untouched on her plate. She chattered incess

e, I don't se

n w

ing to hear him play. And afte

reason why I shou

poured a little more cream over Theodore's baked apple. Even as she did it her eyes met Fanny's, and in them was a certain sly amuse

is went into the dining-room where Fanny was sitting. Mattie had cleared the table, and Fanny was busy over a book and a tablet, by the light of the lamp that they always used for studying. It was one of the rare occasions when she had brought home a school lesson. It was arithmetic, and Fanny loathed arithmetic. She had no head for mathematics. The set

er personal hatred. And as for that occasional pe

as down there for eternity unless a friendly hand rescued her. As a rule she insisted that Fanny crack her own mathematical nuts. She said it was good mental training

errupt, sometimes, with an occasional, "But, Mother, how-" but Mrs. Brandeis shook her head and went on. She told Fanny a few things about her early married life-things that made Fanny look at her with new eyes. She had always thought of her mother as her mother, in the way a fourteen-year-old girl does. It never occurred t

ails made the story stand out with stark realism. It was such a story of courage, and pride

erything. Only we'll have to help him, first. It's going to be hard on you, Fanchen. I'm talking to you as if you were eighteen, instead of fourteen. But I want you to u

the world are you ta

p and save. Not now and then, but all the time. It will mean that we can't go to the theater, even occasionally, or to lectures, or concerts. It will mean that

f I c

were folded on the table, and her head came down on her arms and she was crying, quietly, horribly, as a man cries. Fanny stared at her a moment in unbelief. She had not seen her mother cry since the day of Ferdinand Brandeis' death. She scrambled out of her chair and thrust her head down next her mother's, so th

miled. It was a watery and wavering smile, but i

ou what. I'm going to put on my kimono, and you'll make some fudge. Will you? We'll have a party, all by ourselves, and if Mattie scolds about the mil