My father put on his best coat and silk skull-cap; my mother replaced the cotton kerchief by the well-brushed wig.

We children bustled around our parents, asking favors in the name of the Sabbath--"Mama, let Fetchke and me wear our new shoes, in honor of Sabbath"; or "Papa, will you take us to-morrow across the bridge?
You said you would, on Sabbath." And while we adorned ourselves in our best, my grandmother superintended the sealing of the oven, the maids washed the sweat from their faces, and the dvornik scraped his feet at the door.
My father and brother went to the synagogue, while we women and girls assembled in the living-room for candle prayer.

The table gleamed with spotless linen and china.

At my father's place lay the Sabbath loaf, covered over with a crocheted doily; and beside it stood the wine flask and _kiddush_ cup of gold or silver.

At the opposite end of the table was a long row of brass candlesticks, polished to perfection, with the heavy silver candlesticks in a shorter row in front; for my mother and grandmother were very pious, and each used a number of candles; while Fetchke and I and the maids had one apiece.
After the candle prayer the women generally read in some book of devotion, while we children amused ourselves in the quietest manner, till the men returned from synagogue.