He bore a great can of hot peas in one hand and a lighthouse-looking pepper-pot in the other.
Some of the children swallowed the dainties hastily out of miniature basins, others carried them within in paper packets for surreptitious munching.
"Call that a ay-puth ?" a small boy would say.
"Not enough!" the old man would exclaim in surprise.

"Here you are, then!" And he would give the peas another sprinkling from the pepper-pot.
Moses Ansell's progeny were not in the picture.

The younger children were at home, the elder had gone to school an hour before to run about and get warm in the spacious playgrounds.

A slice of bread each and the wish-wash of a thrice-brewed pennyworth of tea had been their morning meal, and there was no prospect of dinner.

The thought of them made Moses's heart heavy again; he forgot the _Maggid's_ explanation of the verse in Habakkuk, and he retraced his steps towards Mordecai Schwartz's shop.