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Updated: May 14, 2025
No word between them, only an unfinished sweetness, waiting to be linked up. Suddenly there burst in Abrahm Kantor. "Quick, Leon! I got the car downstairs. Just fifteen minutes to make the ferry. Quick! The sooner we get him over there the sooner we get him back! I'm right, mamma? Now now no water-works! Get your brother's suitcase, Isadore. Now now no nonsense quick!"
He wanted to find words, but for consciousness of self, could not. "It's a wonderful house out there waiting for you, Leon Kantor, and you you're wonderful, too!" "The flowers thanks!" "My father, he sent them. Come, father quick!" Suddenly there was a tight tensity seemed to crowd up the little room. "Abrahm quick get Hancock. That first row of chairs has got to be moved.
Kantor regarded his wife, the lower half of his face, well covered with reddish bristles, undershot, his free hand and even his eyes violently lifted. To those who see in a man a perpetual kinship to that animal kingdom of which he is supreme, there was something undeniably anthropoidal about Abrahm Kantor, a certain simian width between the eyes and long, rather agile hands with hairy backs.
In turn, this pulley set in toll still another bell, two flights up in Abrahm Kantor's tenement, which overlooked the front of whizzing rails and a rear wilderness of gibbet-looking clothes-lines, dangling perpetual specters of flapping union suits in a mid-air flaky with soot.
"For my own children I'm always a prophet, I tell you! You think I didn't know that that terrible night after the pogrom after we got out of Kief to across the border! You remember, Abrahm, how I predicted it to you then how our Mannie would be born too soon and and not right from my suffering! Did it happen on the ship to America just the way I said it would?
Fumbling for string and for notes the instrument could not yield up to him, the birdlike mouth began once more to open widely and terribly into the orificial O. It was then Abrahm Kantor came down with a large hollow resonance of palm against that aperture, lifting his small son and depositing him plop upon the family album. "Take that!
Her hands and her forearms instantly out from the business of kneading something meaty and floury, Mrs. Kantor rushed forward, her glance quick from one to the other of them. "Abrahm, what's wrong?" "I'll feedle him! I'll feedle him!" The little pulling wrist still in clutch, Mr.
Did it happen just exactly how I predicted our Izzie would break his leg that time playing on the fire-escape? I tell you, Abrahm, I get a real pain here under my heart that tells me what comes to my children. Didn't I tell you how Esther would be the first in her confirmation-class and our baby Boris would be redheaded?
And then the super-amphitheater, filled with those whose emotions lie next to the surface and whose pores have not been closed over with a water-tight veneer, burst into its cheers and its tears. There were fifteen recalls from the wings, Abrahm Kantor standing counting them off on his fingers, and trembling to receive the Stradivarius.
In turn, this pulley set in toll still another bell, two flights up in Abrahm Kantor's tenement, which overlooked the front of whizzing rails and a rear wilderness of gibbet-looking clothes-lines, dangling perpetual specters of flapping union suits in a mid-air flaky with soot.
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