Page:Etta Block - One-act plays from the Yiddish (1923).pdf/83

 One mustn’t lose hope!

&ensp;(to Fraidele) See that the potatoes don’t get burned.

(Fraidele busies herself at the oven.)

Did you hear the heavy thunder?

It struck a tree and it fell into the middle of the road.

(Fraidele rakes out the potatoes and brings them to the table. All rub their hands in anticipation of the warm food. They blow the hot potatoes to cool them, eating them skin and all.)

Come here, bobbe’she, nearer to the table. Take a potato.

Nu—I’m all right this way, too.&emsp;(Busying herself at the oven.)

Let me, I’ll scatter the fire.

How are things up your way?

Business is bad all over, but with me—may I not sin with my speech—I can’t complain.

It’s just the same here. Hardly a chance to unload a wagon of wood.