The only
Gentile family that lived in Abner's Court was that of the porter.
His children spoke fairly good Yiddish
One Saturday evening a pock-marked lad from the Sands, the son
of a chimney-sweep, meeting me in the street, set his dog at me.
As a result I came home with a fair-sized piece of my trousers
(knee-breeches were unknown to us) missing
"I'm going to kill him," my mother said, with something like a sob.
"I'm just going to kill him."
"Cool down," the retired soldier pleaded, without removing his
short-stemmed pipe from his mouth
Mother was silent for a minute, and even seated herself, but
presently she sprang to her feet again and made for the door
The soldier's wife seized her by an arm
"Where are you going? To the Sands? Are you crazy? If you start a
quarrel over there you'll never come back alive."
"I don't care!"
She wrenched herself free and left the room.
Half an hour later she came back beaming
"His father is a lovely Gentile," she said. "He went out, brought his
murderer of a boy home, took off his belt, and skinned him alive.
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