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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