United States or Trinidad and Tobago ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


No race in the world possesses a richer anecdotal lore than the Jews such pawky, even blasphemous humor, not understandable of the heathen, and to a suspicious mind Pinchas's overflowing cornucopia of such would have suggested a prior period of Continental wandering from town to town, like the Minnesingers of the middle ages, repaying the hospitality of his Jewish entertainers with a budget of good stories and gossip from the scenes of his pilgrimages.

When there were no more encore verses, Ignatz Levitsky would turn to the audience and bow in acknowledgment of the compliment. Pinchas's eyes were orbs straining at their sockets; froth gathered on his lips. Mrs. Goldwater bounded on, fantastically mad, her songs set to comic airs. The great house received her in the same comic spirit.

'Got your theatre ticket? he panted. 'What for? 'Give it me. The Journalist fumbled in his waistcoat pocket, and threw him a crumpled fragment. 'What in thunder he began. And then, to Pinchas's relief, the car removed the querist.

A moment afterwards the door was slightly opened, and Pinchas's head was protruded through the aperture. The poet wore his most endearing smile, the finger was laid coaxingly against the nose. "Just von leedle speech, Simon. Tink how I lof you." "Oh, well, go away. I'll see," replied Wolf, laughing amid all his annoyance. The poet rushed in and kissed the hem of Wolf's coat.

"You haf not considair how my Yiddish shall make kindle every heart, strike tears from every eye, as Moses did from de rock." "I have. I know. But what am I to do?" "Jus dis leedle favor; and I vill be gradeful to you all mine life." "You know I would if I could." Pinchas's finger was laid more insistently on his nose. "Just dis vonce.

Hannah took advantage of her father's pleasure in the effect of his jokes to show him Pinchas's epistle, which he deciphered laboriously. It commenced: Hebrew Hebe All-fair Maid, Next to Heaven Nightly laid Ah, I love you Half afraid.

The little Bohemian laughed as heartily as his eyeglass permitted. "No; we must stick to our guns. After all, we have had some very good things lately. Those articles of Pinchas's are not bad either." "They're so beastly egotistical. Still his theories are ingenious and far more interesting than those terribly dull long letters of Henry Goldsmith, which you will put in."

'But Goldwater awaits me, the poet protested. 'I guess not. Mr. Kloot's orders. Can't have authors monkeying around here. As he spoke Goldwater's voice rose from the neighbouring stage in an operatic melody, and reduced Pinchas's brain to chaos. A despairing sense of strange plots and treasons swept over him. He ran back to the lobby. The doors had been bolted.

That gentleman had not yet consented to produce the play that Pinchas had ready in manuscript and which had been coveted by all the great theatres in the world, but which he, Pinchas, had reserved for the use of the only actor in Europe. The result of this interview was that the actor-manager yielded to Pinchas's solicitations, backed by frequent applications of poetic finger to poetic nose.

You must not listen to Ebenezer ven he says I must not be on the free list, the blackguard." Raphael explained to the incredulous poet that Ebenezer had not said anything of the kind. Suddenly Pinchas's eye caught sight of the sheets. He swooped down upon them like a hawk. Then he uttered a shriek of grief. "Vere's my poem, my great poesie?" Raphael looked embarrassed.