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Updated: June 15, 2025
"Papa will go back for the feedle not three dollars she's saved for herself he can holler out of her for a feedle!" "Abrahm, he's screaming so he he'll have a fit." "He should have two fits." "Darlink " "I tell you the way you spoil your children it will some day come back on us." "It's his birthday night, Abrahm five years since his little head first lay on the pillow next to me."
Maybe it's with the junk behind the store. I never thought of that fiddle, Leon darlink wait mamma'll run down and look wait, Leon, till mamma finds you a fiddle." The raucous screams stopped then suddenly, and on their very lustiest crest, leaving an echoing gash across silence. On willing feet of haste, Mrs. Kantor wound down backward the high, ladderlike staircase that led to the brass shop.
"My boy my wonder-boy!" "There goes the overture, ma." "Here, darlink your glass of water." "I can't stand it in here; I'm suffocating!" "Got your mute in your pocket, son?" "Yes, ma; for God's sake, yes! Yes! Don't keep asking things!" "Ain't you ashamed, Leon, to be in such an excitement! For every concert you get worse." "The chairs they'll breathe on nay neck."
So black and so bristly of head, his little clawlike hands hovering over the bow, Leon Kantor withdrew a note, strangely round and given up almost sobbingly from the single string. A note of warm twining quality, like a baby's finger. "Leon darlink!"
Genius it should be the last to be sent to the slaughter-pen. Leon darlink don't go!" "Ma, ma you don't mean what you're saying. You wouldn't want me to reason that way. You wouldn't want me to hide behind my violin." "I would! Would! You should wait for the draft. With my Roody and even my baby Boris enlisted, ain't it enough for one mother?
Maybe it's with the junk behind the store. I never thought of that fiddle. Leon darlink wait! Mamma'll run down and look. Wait, Leon, till mamma finds you a fiddle." The raucous screams stopped then, suddenly, and on their very lustiest crest, leaving an echoing gash across silence. On willing feet of haste Mrs. Kantor wound down backward the high, ladder-like staircase that led to the brass-shop.
Such a beautiful mezzo they say, engaged already for Metropolitan next season." "I hate it, ma, if they breathe on my neck." "Leon darlink, did mamma promise to fix it? Have I ever let you play a concert when you wouldn't be comfortable?" His long, slim hands suddenly prehensile and cutting a streak of upward gesture, Leon Kantor rose to his feet, face whitening. "Do it now! Now, I tell you.
"Well, son, you going to play for your old mother before you go? It'll be many a month spring maybe longer before I hear my boy again except on the discaphone." He shot a quick glance to his sister. "Why, I I don't know. I I'd love it, ma if if you think, Esther, I'd better." "You don't need to be afraid of me, darlink.
"Six thousand dollars in the house to-night if there was a cent," said Isadore Kantor. "Hand me my violin please, Esther. I must have scratched it, the way they pushed." "No, son; you didn't. I've already rubbed it up. Sit quiet, darlink!" He was limply white, as if the vitality had flowed out of him. "God! Wasn't it tremendous?"
I had no thought of hiding the little note," insisted Jane, "but it is horribly disappointing. Wait until I rescue it from the basket. There's always a charm about the original." "Don't bother, please, Jane," begged Judith. "We are almost late and I hope for a set of tennis before class. I need it every day to keep off the heartbreak. Darlink Sanzie," she sniffled.
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