MENDEL And you'd like it to go all over the world?
DAVID All over the world and all down the ages.
MENDEL But don't you see that unless you go and study seriously in Germany----? [_Enter KATHLEEN from kitchen, carrying a furnished tea-tray with ear-shaped cakes, bread and butter, etc., and wearing a grotesque false nose. MENDEL cries out in amaze._] Kathleen!
DAVID [_Roaring with boyish laughter_] Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
KATHLEEN [_Standing still with her tray_] Sure, what's the matter?
KATHLEEN [_Going to the mantel_] Houly Moses! [_She drops the tray, which MENDEL catches, and snatches off the nose._] Och, I forgot to take it off--'twas the misthress gave it me--I put it on to cheer her up.
KATHLEEN Terrible low, Mr. David, to-day being _Purim_.
MENDEL _Purim!_ Is to-day _Purim_? [_Gives her the tea-tray back. KATHLEEN, to take it, drops her nose and forgets to pick it up._]
DAVID But _Purim_ is a merry time, Kathleen, like your Carnival. Haven't you read the book of Esther--how the Jews of Persia escaped massacre?
KATHLEEN That's what the misthress is so miserable about. Ye don't _keep_ the Carnival. There's noses for both of ye in the kitchen--didn't I go with her to Hester Street to buy 'em?--but ye don't be axin' for 'em. And to see your noses layin' around so solemn and neglected, faith, it nearly makes me chry meself.
MENDEL [_Bitterly to himself_] Who can remember about _Purim_ in America?
DAVID [_Half-smiling_] Poor granny, tell her to come in and I'll play her _Purim_ jig.
MENDEL [_Hastily_] No, no, David, not here--the visitors!
MENDEL [_Impatiently_] That's just what I've been trying to explain.
DAVID Well, I can play in the kitchen. [_He takes his violin. Exit to kitchen. MENDEL sighs and shrugs his shoulders hopelessly at the boy's perversity, then fingers the cups and saucers._]
MENDEL [_Anxiously_] Is that the _best_ tea-set?
KATHLEEN Can't you see it's the Passover set! [_Ruefully_] And shpiled intirely it'll be now for our Passover.... And the misthress thought the visitors might like to thry some of her _Purim_ cakes. [_Indicates ear-shaped cakes on tray._]
MENDEL [_Bitterly_] _Purim_ cakes! [_He turns his back on her and stares moodily out of the window._]
KATHLEEN [_Mutters contemptuously_] Call yerself a Jew and you forgettin' to keep _Purim_! [_She is going back to the kitchen when a merry Slavic dance breaks out, softened by the door; her feet unconsciously get more and more into dance step, and at last she jigs out. As she opens and passes through the door, the music sounds louder._]