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Page 18
The Southern Israelite
Holiday
Frocks
H Gay days are ahead — and gay
days mean gala occasions when one
must have a bright new frock.
Allen’s have a delightful selection
of evening frocks in moire, taffeta,
and flat crepe. The model sketched
above is a charming example of
what you can find for $16.75.
Second Floor
JI.P. ALLEN &CO.
The Store All Women Know
Highlights and Sidelight
Gossip and News of Jewish Personalities
By MARTIN GOLDE
A wave of hot pity swept the bellies
of thousands of self-satisfied Ameri
cans when Mike Gold’s “Jews With
out Money” was published last year.
Rabbis preached sermons on the folly
of sin; mothers warned their boys of
the danger of bad companions. Social
workers cried out in indignation at
the squalor of the slums. And, in the
meantime, Michael Gold, Communist
and scion of the poor, was raking in
the shekels.
But it seems that as a story, “Jews
Without Money” had some excellent
steals from fiction. The other day I
visited Mike’s mother, good old soul
that she is. In the first place, as you
probably don’t know, Mike Gold used
to be Izzy Grannich. It’s always a
good line to tell a mother what a fine
boy her son turned out to be. But
in the case of Mike’s mother I found
some difficulties.
1 was telling her how wonderfully
realistic the scenes that her son de
scribed seemed, how faithful to the
life of the New York slum Jew. I
happened to have a copy of the book
along and read her some of the pass
ages. You see, I wanted her to get a
real thrill hearing somebody praise her
boy. I came to this passage:
“One steaming hot night I couldn’t
sleep for the bedbugs. They have a
peculiar nauseating smell of their.own;
it is the smell of poverty. They crawl
slowly and pompously, bloated with
blood, and the touch and smell of
these parasites wakens every nerve to
disgust.” Referring to his mother,
Mike said: “She slaved, she worked
herself to the bone keeping us fresh
and neat. The bedbugs were a tor
ment to her. She doused the beds
with kerosene, changed the sheets,
sprayed the mattresses in an endless
frantic war with the bedbugs.”
Ah, that was a nice juicy piece of
realism. But Mike’s mother would
have none of it.
“Wot! My son writes about bed
bugs in my house!” Turning to her
niece she begged: “Minne, hev we got
bedbogs? In Delency Strit did we hev
bedbogs? In Allen Strit did we hev
bedbogs Wot a son I got! Some moth
ers are locky. They hev sons lawyers,
doctors, engineers. I got to hev a son
writes about bedbogs!”
The fact is that Mrs. Grannich is
furious with her son. For three months
after the publication of “Jews With
out Money" the author didn’t dare
come near the home fires. He had in
vented so many things that he couldn’t
explain to the family at the hearth-
side that he thought it safer to keep
his distance.
For example, I reminded Mrs. Gran
nich of the passage in her son's book
where he idealizes his mother. He tells
of an excursion to the Bronx, a great
and awe-inspiring event in those days
of the sweatshop. The family entered
the park: "My mother cleaned away
the newspapers. Then she looked to
see if no policeman was
was no policeman. So -
her shoes and stocking-
around on the grass.”
How that passage slew
nich! At first she was ei
of annoyance, then she h<
ing hysterically. She becam
vulsed that she reverted t<
old vernacular: “Ich hob
genumen die shick far alle im
she asked in amazement. (1
my shoes in front of all the |
As though to say—what a era
son I have for a son to accu-e me o
doing such a disgraceful and shann
less thing.
FMdie Cantor tells the story of the
old Jew who had the convenient habit
of being deaf when necessary.
John Russel was one of the creditors
of Max Cohen. Russell lived in New
York and Cohen in Chicago. Desper
ately in need of money, Russell called
all his debtors, and finally reached
Cohen on the long-distance wire.
John: “Say, Cohen, I need five hun
dred dollars. Please send it to ine at
once.”
Max: “There’s a bad connection
here. Something’s wrong with the
wire. I can’t hear a word you say."
John; “I say that I want you to
send me five hundred dollars.”
Max: “I’m sorry, but I don't hear
a word.”
It was at this point that the operator
intervened:
“That’s peculiar, Mr. Cohen. Why.
I can hear every word that’s being
said.”
Max: “Well, if you’re so smart,
and you can hear, you can send him
the five hundred dollars."
The other night on the radio Grant -
land Rice interviewed Sidney Franklin
as part of his series of interviews with
famous sports figures. The matador
who captured the heart of Spain made
no bones about it. He wasn t m it
for the sake of art or applause. As
he put it in straightforward fashion
There’s fellows that make as much as
a million a year in the business. Wei
if our friend Sidney can provide o1
his future that way, it’s no worse than
cleaning up in Sears-Roebuck or 1,1
publishing the New York Times. *oi
really got to hand it to Sidnes
guts. You take a nice Jewish bo)
Frumkin, who goes to Mexico ‘ W
eight years ago as a comm era
student.
One day, in the middle of his '
ies, he is asked to go to a bu
He makes a dirty crack at the n '
dors, says it’s easy. When up
friends laughed, as they sa > m ^ ^
ads of the French lessons. But
ney bridled at that. Well, it a
can can do it, then an America
do it, he argued. Within a
time, he laid a bet, he would In
to fight any bull in all damn