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Updated: June 1, 2025
"I am giving a little supper in my studio after the concert to-night." "Oh, Gott!" groaned Schabelitz. "It is in honor of Schabelitz here. You see how overcome he is. Will you let me bring Theodore back with me after the concert? There will be some music, and perhaps he will play for us." Schabelitz bent again in his queer little foreign bow. "And you, of course, will honor us, Mrs. Brandeis."
"No, I'm not. If you really want to go I'll tell Theodore to give up his ticket to his sister." "Well, my goodness! I guess I'm not a pig. I wouldn't have Theodore stay home, not for a million dollars." "I knew you wouldn't," said Molly Brandeis as they swung down Norris Street. And she told Fanny briefly of what Schabelitz had said about Theodore.
You know perfectly well I'll work." But he looked so startlingly like his father as he said it that Mrs. Brandeis felt a clutching at her heart. Theodore out of the way, they seemed to find very little to discuss, after all. Schabelitz was so quietly certain, Bauer so triumphantly proud. Said Schabelitz, "Wolfsohn, of course, receives ten dollars a lesson ordinarily." "Ten dollars!"
"And I to meet you," replied the shopkeeper in the black sateen apron. "I have just had the pleasure of hearing your son play," began Schabelitz. "Mr. Bauer called me out of my economics class at school, Mother, and said that " "Theodore!" Theodore subsided. "He is only a boy," went on Schabelitz, and put one hand on Theodore's shoulder. "A very gifted boy. I hear hundreds.
Schabelitz smote his friend sharply on the shoulder "The true musician! Oh, Bauer, Bauer! That you should bury yourself in this " But Bauer stopped him with a gesture. "Mrs. Brandeis is a busy woman. And as she says, this thing needs thinking over." "After all," said Mrs. Brandeis, "there isn't much to think about. I know just where I stand. It's a case of mathematics, that's all.
As she worked a little crow of delight escaped her the same absurd crow of triumph that had sounded that day in Winnebago, years and years before, when she, a school girl in a red tam o' shanter, had caught the likeness of Schabelitz, the peasant boy, under the exterior of Schabelitz, the famous. There sounded a smart little double knock at her door. Fanny did not heed it. She did not hear it.
Brandeis, dish in hand, counted her change expertly from the till below the desk, and reached for the sheet of wrapping paper just beneath that on which Fanny had made her drawing. At that moment Schabelitz, glancing up, saw her, and came forward, smiling, the jack-in-the-box still in his hand. "Dear lady, I hope I have not entirely disorganized your shop. I have had a most glorious time.
She was rapidly sketching a crude and startling likeness of Levine Schabelitz as he stood there with the ridiculous toy in his hand. It was a trick she often amused herself with at school. She had drawn her school-teacher one day as she had looked when gazing up into the eyes of the visiting superintendent, who was a married man.
"And this windmill that whirls so busily. My Leo is seven, and his head is full of engines, and motors, and things that run on wheels. He cares no more for music, the little savage, than the son of a bricklayer." "Who is that man?" Fanny whispered, staring at him. "Levine Schabelitz." "Schabelitz! Not the " "Yes." "But he's playing on the floor like like a little boy! And laughing!
We will talk about this again, Mrs. Brandeis. In two weeks Schabelitz will pass through Winnebago again on his way back to Chicago. Meanwhile he will write Wolfsohn. I also. So! Come, Schabelitz!" He turned to see that gentleman strolling off in the direction of the notion counter behind which his expert eye had caught a glimpse of Sadie in her white shirtwaist and her trim skirt.
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