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CLIFTON AVENUE - CINCINNATI 20, OHIO

PAGE THREE

THE DETROIT EWISH CHRONICLE

Kid Moishelle Demobilizea

c

A Rosh Hashonah Story
By KATE FRIEDMAN

Of the Jewish Chronicle Staff

HANNUE was trying not to what? An old girl with a long braid

cry—with indifferent success.
It's hard to remain dry-eyed
when every nerve in the body
is taut, when the throat is full of lumps
that swallowed hastily emerge tri-
umphantly augmented to choke and
torment, when eyes, burning in their
sockets, plead indulgence, and the
heart, strained with two years' wait-
ing, threatens to burst with happiness.

"Meshugina," she questioned angrily
of herself, "for what foolishness cry
you now, for what?"
The sheer absurdity of the query
made her smile. For what, indeed? She
sat up erectly against the worn red
plush of the interurban seat. Only for
a moment. Then the slim shoulders
sagged, drooping to their invisible bur-
den, the eyes filled with forbidden tears,
the hands, red and calloused, tightly en-
case in slightly damaged white-silk

KATE FRIEDMAN

you'll have like a stone on your neck.
Didn't I myself talk with Schtnut, the
Sehadch•nt" The deep sigh that stirred
plump shoulders was significant.
"But from whose skin can one pull
out fifty rubles?" The words rolled out
slowly, ponderously. The speaker sighed
reflectively.
There was a heavy silence in the little
room. Then Channele roused herself
from her stupor and faced the troubled
group, her slim figure tense, her eyes
aglow.
"From where? From where? That
claps in my ears all day like thunder.
Oh, Gott, why didn't you take me away
when I was young yet, bcore they stick
out fingers at Channele Keisers, the alte
Aloft! Twenty years, if God is good,
Tammuz, and already an alto Molt."
Her eyes, dark and distended, flayed
her frightened kin.
"To America I must go. I am dying
here. I ant starving here."
"No, Ni," at her mint's injured ex-
clamation, "not for bread and meat am
starving. For love, for love!" The
forbidden word came boldly, defiantly,
from her lips.
"In America every girl has a lover.
In America Chapin& Reisd's, too, will
have a lover•"
"Hear, hear," a buxom cousin trilled.
"Olt, I shall die yet from laughing.
Channel,. shall have a lover, I shall die
yet."
"Stop!" The smouldering eyes blaz-
ed with righteous indignation. "Stop!
Or I'll—" the upraised arm dropped
limply.
She turned to the group.
'You
hear ? That's why it is pulling me to go
to America. Laugh at me, yes. Every-
one laughs. And why? Because I have
not got a dowry. Because I have not
got a lover. Because I shall have to
sit and die front a broken heart."
"Sha! Sha! From a broken heart

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gloves, twisted nervously an official bit you don't die so quick." Her uncle
.:poke soothingly. "Channele, my sis-
of paste-board, the Government's return
ter 's only child," he walked over and
receipt for one soldier, released.
The consciousness of her action patted the thin shoulder. "It's not so

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friends and relatives in the sand- Don't you see I must go to America—
strewn parlor of the three-room shack to the lover who waits for me?"
./miak went. There seemed no
—a meeting of stormy gesticulation on And C
the part of her uncle, much tearful alternative. Tante Sofia, who lived in
the next village, sold her Samovar-
pleading on the part of a distraught
the one given her in drosha geshong.
Tante—much cajoling and wheedling o n
Tante Fannie, with whom she made her
the part of well-meaning relatives.
home, parted tearfully with a pair of
, ',\'u Schrum'," said the aunt, wearily, carved candlesticks. A distant cousin
tucking in whisps of greying hair under substituted a set of silver spoons for
a rich, brown Schaitel, "It's not so far brass ones and contributed to the pro-
from sense what our Channele says.
(Continued In Section 2, Page 2.)
She'll sit and sit till thirty years, and ;

Alt<

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ante born of passing years, the struggle
"Hear me out." Her voice was in-
to come to America.
sisteut. "Lend me fifty rubles, for a
God of Israel! What a struggle it had ticket. I'll pay it back. Better, I'll
been! How could she, without a Kopek marry a rich boss and send you all
of her own, accumulate the fifty rubles money so your years won't be blackened
demanded by lathe! Zuretzky, the with work."
I There was quiet desperation in the
steamship agent?
There had been a conference of voice. "But I must go to America.

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aroused her. She smoothed the wrinkled black like you say. An old maid you
don't have to be. And this minute
corners lovingly and pressed them to
isn't Schlaime, the Water Carrier, eat-
her lips.
"Off from your mind you're going! I tog out his heart for you? And if he
what are you tearing in
has got a family? Four Mitwas God
Channel,. Reisers,
Heaven blessed him with! Such a
to pieces, ,shat? \\ ,lim, if not this,
year on me what a mother yod would
would tell your bleeding heart that
he to those motherless ones!"
Moishele was coming home? Aloishele,
"No! No!"
he girl's voice rose
"Kid Afoishele," with the eyes that burn passionately. Every nerve in her sen-
like fire, with hair like silk on his head. sitive body revolted at the thought.
and teeth like milk! Moishele, straight
"Marry me off to Sr/liable, the
like a tree, with a pair Of shoulders like Water Carrier, with his cracked lip
a lion, and a figure like a Mellech."
and his four children? Oh, God, what
And she, Channel., Rei.cet's, a girl did I do in my life that the knife is
already in years, not too lively, not on my neck?"
pretty., was his nearest of kin. The
"To America I must go, I must.
meaning of the phrase, gleaned labori- To America where every girl has a
ously from an English-Yiddish diction- lover, \\, here girls don't run after
ary, had thrilled her. The wonder of it! men with dowries in their hands like
The miracle of America!
here in India." Her voice filled the
The card dropped, forgotten, from her room. "I want to go where I can have
hand. Eves, blind to the mauve and a chance, too. I must go. I'll die if I
rose and blue of a September sky, don't. I'll die, I tell you, I'll die!"
looked into a past strangely barren of
They gazed at her in arnSzemenr.
the thrills and joys of normal girlhood, \Vas this Channel•, the meek, the docile,
a past strewn with disappointments and the quiet little thing who toiled so
heartaches, w ith hopes unfulfilled and willingly—this brazen maid who boldly
dreams that remained but dreams.
demanded a lover.
The shameless one had risen to her
I.ife had always spelled itself out in full height. Her heavy brown hair,
terms of struggle to the girl. First, coiled tightly and unbecomingly became
there was the struggle to exist at all in unbound in her agitation and fell in
the bosom of her impoverished but thick plaits below her waist. A height -
kindly relatives when she was left an ened color burned in her cheeks. For
'or
orphan in the little village of Lida, the moment she belied the appellation,
flirter Gubernye. Then, with intoler- • . ..tile Moit."

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141.145 Woodward

1H-

J. J. SNYDER, Mgr. Shoe Department

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