May ten ammunition wagons of black curses be discharged on thee!" replied Mrs.Sugarman, her one eye shooting fire.
This was the last straw of insult added to injury.

Sugarman was exasperated beyond endurance.

He forgot that he had a wider audience than his wife; he lost all control of himself, and cried aloud in a frenzy of rage, "What a pity thou hadst not a fourth uncle!" Mrs.Sugarman collapsed, speechless.
"A greedy lot, marm," Sugarman reported to Mrs.Hyams on the Monday.

"I was very glad you and your people didn't come; dere was noding left except de prospectuses of the Hamburg lotter_ee_ vich I left laying all about for de guests to take.

Being _Shabbos_ I could not give dem out." "We were sorry not to come, but neither Mr.Hyams nor myself felt well," said the white-haired broken-down old woman with her painfully slow enunciation.