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Updated: June 13, 2025
Such considerations never occur to them. Messrs Goble and Cohn had provided for those who called to see them one small bench on the landing, conveniently situated at the intersecting point of three draughts, and had let it go at that. Nobody, except perhaps the night-watchman, had ever seen this bench empty.
We crept up and swept the farm it was weird, but, alas! they were out on the loot. The men were furious, but we live in hopes. The end was a trifle disappointing, but S. Cohn, too, lived in hopes of some monstrous and memorable butchery. Even his wife had got used to the firing-line, now that neither shot nor shell could harm her boy.
I've just got work with Goble and Cohn. . . . Hullo, Phil!" A young man with a lithe figure and smooth black hair brushed straight back from his forehead had paused at the table on his way to the cashier's desk. "Hello, Nelly." "I didn't know you lunched here." "Don't often. Been rehearsing with Joe up at the Century Roof, and had a quarter of an hour to get a bite. Can I sit down?" "Sure.
There are many ways of concealing from the Briton your shame in being related through a pedigree of three thousand years to Aaron, the High Priest of Israel, and Cohn is one of the simplest and most effective. Once, taken to task by a pietist, Solomon defended himself by the quibble that Hebrew has no vowels.
A Salt Lake dealer came into the store soon thereafter and saw this basket. "How much?" he asked. The price was given rather high thought Mr. Cohn . "Twenty-five dollars!" "I'll take it!" came the speedy response. A month or two later Cohn received a photograph from the purchaser, accompanied by a letter. "You know the basket, herewith photographed, which I purchased from you.
Cohn hold a unique position in their particular field. Some twenty-five years ago they purchased a beautiful basket from a Washoe Indian woman, named Dat-so-la-le in Washoe, or Luisa Keyser in American, for she was the wife of Charley Keyser, a general roustabout Indian, well known to the citizens of Carson. Luisa was a large, heavy, more than buxom literally a fat, ungainly squaw.
'And why wasn't Simon in synagogue? he inquired of his wife, as she came down the gallery stairs to meet her lord in the lobby, where the congregants loitered to chat. 'Do I know? murmured Mrs. Cohn, flushing beneath her veil. 'When I left the house he said he was coming on. 'He didn't know you were to be "called up." 'It isn't that, Hannah, he grumbled.
S. Cohn opened his mouth in angry retort. Then he discovered he had no retort, only anger. And this made him angrier, and his mouth remained open, quite terrifyingly for poor Mrs. Cohn. 'What is the use of arguing with him? she said imploringly. 'The War Office has been sensible enough to refuse him. 'We shall see, said Simon.
For a moment S. Cohn, devoid of his glasses, stared without recognition. Wild hereditary tremors ran through him, born of the Russian persecution, and he had a vague nightmare sense of the Chappers, the Jewish man-gatherers who collected the tribute of young Jews for the Little Father. But as Simon began to loom through the red fog, 'A gun on the Sabbath! he cried.
I received a telegram which informed me, through the Foreign Office, that I was to report to the Kaiser at Kreuznach on the 4th of May. Now, Field-Marshal Hindenburg and General Ludendorff were also present at the lunch table, and I felt that I was bound in courtesy to pay a visit to the two gentlemen after the meal. Delegate Dr. Cohn: Good.
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