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Updated: May 7, 2025
At the door Miss Kantor met her brother, her eyes as sweetly moist as her kiss. "Leon darling, you surpassed even yourself!" "Quit crowding, children. Let him sit down. Here, Leon, let mamma give you a fresh collar. Look how the child's perspired. Pull down that window, Boris. Rudolph, don't let no one in. I give you my word if to-night wasn't as near as I ever came to seeing a house go crazy.
Kantor broke into an actual tarantella of rage, his hands palms up and dancing. "'What did papa do? she asks. She's got easy asking. 'What did papa do? The whole shop, I tell you. A sheep with a baa inside when you squeeze on him games a horn so he can holler my head off such a knife like Izzy's with a scissors in it!
In the silence that followed, a sob burst out, stifled, from Esther Kantor, this time her mother holding her in arms that were strong. "That, Leon, is the most beautiful of all your compositions. What does it mean, son, that word, 'rondy-voo'?" "Why, I I don't exactly know. A rendezvous it's a sort of meeting, an engagement, isn't it, Miss Gina? Gina? You're up on languages.
In November, honed by the interim of training to even a new leanness, and sailing-orders heavy and light in his heart, Lieutenant Kantor, on two days' home-leave, took leave of home, which can be crudest when it is tenderest.
Not even that time in Milan, darlink, when they broke down the doors, was it like to-night " "Ought to seen, ma, the row of police outside " "Hush up, Roody! Don't you see your brother is trying to get his breath?" From Mrs. Isadore Kantor: "You should have seen the balconies, mother. Isadore and I went up just to see the jam."
Even Sarah Kantor, who still brewed for him, on a small portable stove carried from city to city and surreptitiously unpacked in hotel suites, the blackest of soups, and, despite his protestation, would incase his ears of nights in an old home-made device against their flightiness, would oftentimes bleed inwardly at this sense of his isolation.
It shone roundly in his face, doubling of chin, in the bulge of waistcoat, heavily gold-chained, and in eyes that behind the gold-rimmed glasses gave sparklingly forth his estate of well-being. "Abrahm, didn't I tell you not to dare to " On excited balls of feet that fairly bounced him, Abrahm Kantor burst in. "Leon mamma I got out here an old friend Sol Ginsberg.
"Don't 'say pop' me! I don't want no street-bum freshness from you!" "I mean, papa, there was an uptown swell in, and she bought one of them seventy-five-cent candlesticks for the first price," "Schlemmil Chammer!" said Mr. Kantor, rinsing his hands at the sink. "Didn't I always tell you it's the first price times two when you see up-town business come in?
"Don't 'say, pop' me! I don't want no street-bum freshness from you!" "I mean, papa, there was an up-town swell in, and she bought one of them seventy-five-cent candlesticks for the first price." "Schlemmil! Chammer!" said Mr. Kantor, rinsing his hands at the sink. "Didn't I always tell you it's the first price, times two, when you see up-town business come in?
There was an eloquence to that waiting, laid-out table, the print of the family already gathered about it; the dynastic high chair, throne of each succeeding Kantor; an armchair drawn up before the paternal moustache-cup; the ordinary kitchen chair of Mannie Kantor, who spilled things, an oilcloth sort of bib dangling from its back; the little chair of Leon Kantor, cushioned in an old family album that raised his chin above the table.
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