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Updated: June 2, 2025
Hyams, his fingers trembling with eagerness, took it up and examined it delightedly. "You've got it a bargain," said the seaman. "Good-night, gentlemen. I hope, for your sakes, nobody'll know I've parted with it. Keep your eyes open, and trust nobody. When you see black, smell mischief. I'm glad to get rid of it."
"And apparently you got none." "No," said Sugarman, growing wroth at the recollection. "He said ve are not in Poland." "Quite true." "Yes, but I gave him an answer he didn't like," said Sugarman. "I said, and ven ve are not in Poland mustn't ve keep none of our religion?" His tone changed from indignation to insinuation. "Vy vill you not let me get you a vife, Mr. Hyams?
It was chiefly male cronies who had been invited to breakfast, and the table had been decorated with biscuits and fruit and sweets not appertaining to the meal, but provided for the refreshment of the less-favored visitors such as Mr. and Mrs. Hyams who would be dropping in during the day.
Go to the mother," said Malka angrily. "All my children are alike. It's getting late. Hadn't you better send across again for old Hyams?" "There's no hurry, mother," said Michael Birnbaum soothingly. "We must wait for Sam." "And who's Sam?" cried Malka unappeased. "Sam is Leah's Chosan," replied Michael ingenuously. "Clever!" sneered Malka.
I examined them with care, and there was no doubt that they were trouser buttons. I even distinguished that one of them was marked with the name of 'Hyams, who was Oldacre's tailor. I then worked the lawn very carefully for signs and traces, but this drought has made everything as hard as iron.
If you lend me your cat" here he began to make the argumentative movement with his thumb, as though scooping out imaginary kosher cheese with it; "If you lend me your cat to kill my rat," his tones took on the strange Talmudic singsong "and my rat instead kills your cat, then it is the fault of your cat and not the fault of my rat." Poor Mrs. Hyams could not meet this argument.
One evening, at a large dinner-party at Governor Moore's, at which were present several members of the Louisiana Legislature, Taylor, Bragg, and the Attorney-General Hyams, after the ladies had left the table, I noticed at Governor Moore's end quite a lively discussion going on, in which my name was frequently used; at length the Governor called to me, saying: "Colonel Sherman, you can readily understand that, with your brother the abolitionist candidate for Speaker, some of our people wonder that you should be here at the head of an important State institution.
Look at your daughter think of what you are doing to her and beware before it is too late." "Is it in my hand to do or to forbear?" asked the old man, "It is the Torah. Am I responsible for that?" "Yes," said David, out of mere revolt. Then, seeking to justify himself, his face lit up with sudden inspiration. "Who need ever know? The Maggid is dead. Old Hyams has gone to America.
He bore his father and mother on those shoulders, semi-invalids both. In the bold bad years of shameless poverty, Hyams had been a wandering metropolitan glazier, but this open degradation became intolerable as Miriam's prospects improved. It was partly for her sake that Daniel ultimately supported his parents in idleness and refrained from speaking to Bessie.
It gets on my nerves and I am so worn out. Would he not have told you what? And who's he?" Beenah looked at her husband. "I heard Daniel was engaged," said old Hyams jerkily. Miriam started and flushed. "To whom?" she cried, in excitement. "Bessie Sugarman." "Sugarman's daughter?" Miriam's voice was pitched high. "Yes." Miriam's voice rose to a higher pitch. "Sugarman the Shadchan's daughter?"
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