Hymie Goldberg is trying to hold a small mirror in his hand while he adjusts his tie. The mirror slips and shatters on the ground.
“Oh, no!” he complains to Becky. “Now I am going to have seven years’ bad luck.”
“Nonsense,” replies Becky. “My uncle Sollie once broke a mirror, and he didn’t have seven years’ bad luck.” “Really?” says Hymie, encouraged.
“Really,” repeats Becky. “He died the same day.”