SLACK TIMES THEY SLEEP 381
"It will soon be morning," is Breklin's opinion.
"Morning? Nonsense!" Yudith knows better.
"It must be morning soon!" He holds to it.
"You are very anxious for the morning," says Yudith, good-naturedly, "and so you think it will soon be here, and I tell you, it's not midnight yet."
"What are you talking about? You don't know what you're saying ! I shall go out of my mind."
"You know," says Yudith, "that Avremele always wakes at midnight and cries, and he's still fast asleep."
'*Xo, Mame," comes from under Arvemele's heap of rags.
"Come to me, my beauty! So he was awake after all!" and Yudith reaches out her arms for the child.
"Perhaps he's cold," says Breklin.
"Are you cold, sonny?" asks Yudith.
"Cold, Mame!" replies Avremele.
Yudith wraps the coverlets closer and closer round him, and presses him to her side.
And the night wears on.
"0 my sides!" groans Breklin.
Mine, too!" moans Yudith, and they start another conversation.
One time they discuss their neighbors; another time the Breklins try to calculate how long it is since they married, how much they spend a week on an average, and what was the cost of Yudith's confinement.
It is seldom they calculate anything right, but talk- ing helps to while away time, till the basement begins to lighten, whereupon the Breklins jump out of bed, as though it were some perilous hiding-place, and set to work in a great hurry to kindle the stove. 25
