Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 18, 2025
I was returning with Superintendent Sabsovich from an inspection of the Jewish colonies in that region. The cattle were lowing in the fields. The evening breathed peace. Down the sandy road came a creaking farm wagon loaded with cedar posts for a vineyard hard by.
A working family of eight paid $11 for three rooms in an Essex Street tenement, $35 for the household; here the rent is $5, and the household expenses $24 better living for $17 less a month. Near the village a Jewish farmer who had tracked us from one of the other villages caught up with us to put before Mr. Sabsovich his request for more land.
The children were stout and rosy. They played under the trees, safe from the shop till the school gives up its claim to them. Superintendent Sabsovich sees to it that it is not too early.
The neighborhood knew that he never paid anything on his mortgage; claimed, in fact, that he could not. "Ah!" said Mr. Sabsovich, emerging from a wrangle with his client about matters agricultural, "he has not learned to 'make him good. Come over to the school, and I will show you stock. You can't afford to keep poor cows. They cost too much." The other shook his head energetically.
After such a conference, I asked what it was about. "You," said Mr. Sabsovich. "They are asking, 'Who is he? I tell them that you are not a Jew. This is the answer they give: 'I don't care if he is a Jew. Is he a good man?" Over the supper table that night, I caught the burning eyes of a young nihilist fixed upon me with a look I have not yet got over.
There was a brief silence, then the hesitating answer: "It is a surprise party." Mr. Sabsovich eyed the crowd sharply and thought awhile. "Oh," he said, remembering all at once, "it is Mr. Billings and his new wife. Go ahead, boys!"
Word Of The Day
Others Looking