YALE
UNNEHS.TYU6HABV
9002 06726 4599 ^APLANDER
RABBI "ADATH KODESH" CONGREGATION
THE CONVERT
A PLAY
IN
FOUR ACTS
WILMINGTON, DEL. - - - - MCMXIIIUNWERSITVUBBABV
■ *-
' AI'I ANDKR
RABBI "ADATH KODESH" CONGREGATION
THE CONVERT
A PLAY
IN
FOUR ACTS
WILMINGTON, DEL.
MCMXIIIWW
YALE
university
ubrahvRev. AI. II. KaaplanderM. H. KAAPLANDER
RABBI "AlMrH KODESH" CONGREGATION
THE CONVERT
A PLAY
IN
FOUR ACTS
Copyright, 1913, by M. H. Kaaplander
WILMINGTON, DEL, - - - - MCMXIII-W.B 4 S'lSH"PREFACE
This playlet belongs to the class of dramas whose object it is to instruct rather than to amuse. Each of the four acts aims to teach a lesson of its own, though all four aim at a unity. The author, as a religious national pulpit-man, has ever preached against the evils set forth in the first three acts, viz.: the indifference to the Shool and Hebrew School which the Jewish people manifest in their new home, America; the narrow and prejudiced views they frequently entertain, where they evince any interest, in regard to Hebrew instruction; and the green table, which is becoming entirely too prominent in Jewish life, and which has only recently evoked a shocking tragedy in New York. The play was written before the latter occurred, but even if it had been written since, I should have made no allusion to this gross crime, as my purpose was to speak of this vice as it appears in our so-called respectable classes, and not in its most extreme and revolting form, which, fortunately, is as yet of rare occurrence.
In regard to the last act, I beg to submit to my friends, my co-Zionists, that I have endeavored to treat this subject in the most practical manner possible. The remedies for the three evils above enumerated do not per se constitute a reversion to Zionistic idealism. They can be carried out at once, and by all, while our ideals can be advanced but slowly and by the few. I have ever preached the Talmudic virtue of the Golden Mean. We must not demand that which the great mass of our people will not and cannot grant. Poetry may be compared to the soul of man, yet not all men need to be poets. The greatest dreamer must have beneath him the support of practi-calism. Let us invite the masses to tread the path of the Golden Mean. Then it may be that the most progressive Zionists will likewise find their efforts furthest advanced.
3And now a word to the non-Jewish reader. Jewish life has long broken down the walls of the Ghetto, and his Gentile brother must needs reckon with him as a factor in American life. To render this play the more intelligible to these readers, I have appended in notes the translations of Hebrew words occasionally used.
This play wras written not only for popular presentation, but also for production by school children, and was therefore necessarily made briefer than is usual with plays of this character. Brevity, besides, is the spirit of the age. The magazine is replacing the two-volume novel, vaudeville—the drama. The modern, impatient audience will not concentrate their minds even on the stage for two successive hours of serious thought. Brevity, sincerity and truth have become the modern desideratum. Such this play seeks to possess, and it is in this spirit that I send it forth with the hope that this little Convert will make many, many converts.
M. H. Kaaplander.
November 20, 1912.THE CONVERT A PLAY In four Acts
CHARACTERS
MR. HAIMOWITZ,
MRS. HAIMOWITZ,
IZZIE,
LIZZIE, ARE, WILLIE, LILLIE,
MINNIE, DORA,
JAKE, SAMMIE,
MR. HOLLANDER,
MISS ROSENZWEIG, JOHNSON, MR. MYEROWITZ, MRS. RERKOWITZ, MR. RERKOWITZ, MRS. STERN, MR. STERN,
a country peddler, at home Saturday and Sunday, his wife, keeps a small grocery store.
age itf, works at a Jewish butcher shop.
17, helps her mother in store. 16, attends public school. 12, peddles papers after school. 9, goes to public school, and attends missionary sewing school two afternoons per week, little girl, of 6.
High school girl, i5 years old, attends Hebrew school every afternoon. Lizzie's sweetheart Willie's companion, principal of the Hebrew school and lecturer at the Synagogue. Secretary of school, colored janitor.
father of one of the school boys, mother of another, husband of Mrs. Rerkowitz. mother of another, henpecked.
5ACT I
(The Haimowitz home. Dining room, n o'clock, Saturday morning. Mrs. Haimowitz, Lizzie and Lillie are seated talking. Mr. Haimowitz enters with heavy packs on his shoulders.)
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—Look, Slatta, look at the bargains I got at the auction. Well, how about you? Have you bought in everything for Sunday? Is dinner ready? Where are the children?
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—I nearly finished everything. I got already meat and fish. After dinner I'm going to go with Lizzie and buy some more things.
LIZZIE:—No, ma. I haven't got time to-day. I have to press my new peck-aboo waist; and I want to try and trim my hat too.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—You always get short with the day. The whole week I am begging you to help me in the store; so you find always all the time new excuses. To-day, Saturday, just because you got nothing to do in the store, so you can't get done with your other work.
LILLIE:—I'll go with you to market, ma. Anyway I have nothing to do all day. No school Saturday; and sewing is only Monday and Wednesday; so I really don't know what to do with myself all day.
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—Where are the boys running a-round the whole day?
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—The boys? The little one, he sells papers, and the older one is a baseball player, and Izzie, poor boy, he works hard the whole week. So the only day-Saturday-let him have some pleasure. He don't like baseball but the poolroom, why, he lives in it. He says he makes yet some money in it. I don't want his profits; let him only enjoy a little bit.
(The door opens and Dora enters, tripping in with a bright smile.)
7DORA:—Lillie, you ought to have been in Shool to-day, and seen how nice everything was. The boys downstairs and us girls upstairs sang with the Hazzan and the "choir so beautifully. Just like opera!
LIZZIE:—What? Girls and boys singing in Shool? Since when?
DORA:—Since when? Why, don't you know that in our Hebrew school we learn to sing too? We learn to Daven, and to sing, and write a little Hebrew too.
LIZZIE:—Hem! A lot of good it does you! What are they going to turn you into, Rebbetsins? What congregation are you going to be a Rebbetsin for?
DORA:—A Rebbetsin? I am going to be a daughter of Israel.
LIZZIE:—A daughter of Israel? You can be that without all this nonsense, without your Shool and without your Hebrew school. As long as your parents are Jewish you are Jewish, whether you want to be or not.
DORA:—Don't say that, Lizzie. We are born men and women, and yet don't we have to learn how to be real men and women? If men must learn humanity, then Jews should learn Judaism. Jewish history teaches us that our forefathers could not be driven from their belief by persecution. Why should they be driven from it by toleration?
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—Why, you preach like your Rabbi. I heard him last Yom Kippur tearing his lungs out because Jews don't study religion. Tell him, your pious teacher, that the Goyim don't study religion either. They are allowed to do everything, and they know everything. They know everything whether they study or not. They learn in school to be good citizens, but they don't learn in church to become good Christians.
DORA:—I am shocked to hear this from you, Mr. Haimowitz. I wish we only cared for our Jewish religion a tenth as much as they do for their Christian religion. Then our Rabbi would not have had any ground for complaint. Think for a moment of the heavenly peace that
8you see on Sunday in the Gentile home and street. Right early in the morning parents and children leave their homes and go to church. Old and young take part in chanting religious hymns. Everything the preacher says is heard attentively and intelligently. At home the whole family sit at the table with a holiday atmosphere about them. After dinner they go to Sunday school and in the evening they go to church again. This is how the Gentiles observe their Sabbath. But what do we see among us Jews? Even among people who on Saturday are entirely free like yourselves, you don't see the least sign of Sabbath. Your children do all unnecessary work on Saturday. They know nothing about our Shool. Your only observance today of Sabbath consists of active preparations for Sunday. To tell you the honest truth, the Goyim hardly expect so high a compliment to be paid them by us Jews. Your Willie takes violin lessons, and Lillie is expecting soon to take piano lessons. Mrs. Haimowitz says she does not intend to make her children Rabonim. Does she expect to make them professional musicians? I have been taking piano lessons for several years. My teacher thinks the world of me; and yet I never have any intentions of performing as a professional pianist. Yes, my dear friends, I am studying music as a luxury, but Hebrew, or rather Judaism, as a necessity.
(The door opens and Izzie enters.)
IZZIE:—What's up, DoraP What are you so excited about?
LIZZIE:—She is delivering a sermon. Don't you see?
MRS. HAIMOWITZ,:—She takes after her Rabbi. He is crazy and he makes everybody crazy.
LILLIE:—Ma, Dora isn't crazy. She goes to Shool. She can Daven. Why shouldn't I go there, mama?
(Enter Willie with a pack of newspapers under his arm. He is crying.)
WILLIE:— (Sobbing.) Abe is arrested. He threw a ball through Isaac Cohen's window. He was caught by the
9fat policeman, Bill. Mr. Cohen called him Shagetz. He said: that big Shagetz needs a good lesson, and he is going to get it through him in the Reform School. (Throws his papers on the floor.) I don't want to sell papers any more. All the kids make fun of me. They call me Goy. I can't sing in Hebrew. I can't Daven. I want to go to Cheder like the rest of them.
MR. IIAIMOWITZ:—It cost money to go to Cheder, boy.
DORA:—Less than the Abe's fine will cost you, anyhow.
MRS. IIAIMOWITZ:—No, Sirie. This will be the last time, so should God help me. What, breaking windows?
IZZIE:—Don't the kids have to pay for Cheder?
DORA:—No, not a thing. You can all come, and you will be welcome too.
LIZZIE:—Me too?
IZZIE:—And me?
MRS. IIAIMOWITZ:—We all have to go to Cheder. We ought to start up all of us going to Cheder and—
DORA:— (Laughing.) I am afraid it is a little too late for you. I am afraid you would feel a trifle out of place. But Abe, and Willie and Lillie are just the right kind.
(Willie and Lillie dance for joy.)
MR. IIAIMOWITZ:—Now, madam, I see you will not go to the market anymore. Let us go to the police-station and take out the captain. It's true too! children ought to go to cheder. They may not become Rabonim, but they must not remain Goyim.
(Enter Abe. Willie stops and stares at him.)
WILLIE:—I thought you were arrested.
ABE:—I pretty near got pinched. Gee, I had a hard get-away. Oh, hello, Dora. Whew! (Takes out a handkerchief and wipes his face.) Iam sweating all over. The cop, he chased us for a half a block, and he nabbed Jimmie. But he couldn't get me! I chased into Uncle Joe's back alley.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—You long, low, ignorant fool
10you! You running around breaking windows and making me pay bloody dollars to get you out! I will show you how to run around breaking windows! I will break your head. Get out of my house, tramp! Hyman, go give him that he will know how to run around:and break windows.
(Mr. Haimowilz unfastens his belt preparatory to a substantial bit of instruction to his young offspring. An ominous and expectant silence. Abe nervously eyes the door.)
DORA:—Don't, Mr. Ilaimowitz, don't. It isn't Abe's fault that this has happened. It isn't his fault at all. He was just playing ball, and I am sure he couldn't help it that the ball was thrown into the window.
MR. IIAIMOWITZ:—Couldn't help it! Who then could help it if not him?
DORA:—You are at fault, and so is Mrs. Haimowitz, and so in a way the whole city. There ought to be playgrounds all over the city where the boys could enjoy an innocent game of ball without being in danger of breaking their neighbor's windows. And then again, if he were attending Hebrew School like some of the other boys and girls, he wouldn't have been on the streets trying to get away from the police. And then besides, he wasn't arrested, was he, so it hasn't cost you any money to get him out. ■ Then why should you wish to punish him?
ABE:—Never mind, Dora, you know how I love your Cheder. I'd rather be in jail than in that old hole. You needn't take up for me. You know—
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—(Relenting and refastening his belt about his person)—Abe, that's just where we made up our mind to send you. What, you won't go?
ABE:—I'm not going.
DORA:—Now, Abe—
LILLIE:—We're all going—
ABE:—You can all go to Hell— DORA:—Oh! Abe!
ABE:—Yes, Abe. You know how I hate that whole
11damn trash. You sing and you don't know what you're singing. You holler, and you don't know what you're hollering. You make a whole lot of fuss, and study that old Hebrew trash, and half the time you don't know where you got off. Then that crazy old gink gets up and delivers a lecture and you cry and raise Hell—(Dora is aghast.) —Don't talk to me. I hate the whole damn business. You don't catch me in there in a hurry.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—You'll go, you'll go, you outcast, you. ABE:—WiU I?
WILLIE:—I'm going. I want to go.
ABE:—You know where you can go, don't you?
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—We'll put you out of the house and you can .go earn your living on the street if you won't go to Cheder.
ABE:—Then I'll be on the street.
DORA:—Now, Abe—
ABE:—No use talking, Dora. You know what I think of it.
DORA:—But listen to me—
ABE:—You can go on and talk for all the good it'll do you.
DORA:—Won't you just hear a word?
ABE:—Yes, I'll hear a word.
DORA:—You don't understand, Abe, you can't understand, what this Hebrew education all means. It is not a matter of learning a little of a language you don't understand, and hearing lectures you don't want. Abe, you are a member of the Jewish race—
ABE:—I don't care.
DORA:—And this is the oldest and most persecuted nation in history. Long before Columbus discovered this country, or even Europe was civilized there was a great and beautiful nation. It was more like a family than a nation. It was held together by the strongest ties of love and religious devotion. Then came the cruel enemy, and conquered them and scattered them over the four corners
12of the earth. And all these centuries the Jew has been persecuted and ill-treated and driven about, and refused a chance to earn a living, and even been tortured to death, but he has been brave, and resisted the whole world, and could not be crushed. To-day, in every country of the earth, in every town and city, he is still to be found, still clinging to the faith of his fathers, still cherishing the beautiful traditions of his race, and defying the whole world to down him. He can't be downed.
ABE:—And what has all that to do with that ChederP
DORA:—Listen, Abe, listen. It is in the Cheder alone that the traditions of our race are kept alive. It is in the Cheder that the word of God is still taught to the children of Israel. The boy that does not go to Cheder that mingles with Gentiles all his life, knows nothing of all these things, of the past of his race, of his inspiring nationality, of the mission he has on earth, and simply grows up a human cabbage plant like the rest, instead of reaching up to the fine proportions of the Hebrew Cedar Tree.
ABE:—What kind of a mission do you mean?
DORA:—Oh, Abe, I mean all the greater and more beautiful things of life. The mission of a higher morality, a nobler purpose, a greater humanity, the mission of Israel among the nations of the world. I am afraid you can't understand.
ABE:—I do understand.
DORA:—Then will you go?
ABE:—I'll see.
DORA:—Please, Abe—(Approaches him and looks at him appealingly.)
ABE:—I'll go.
DORA:—I'm so glad.
LILLIE:—Then we'll all go?
ABE:—Well, yes.
DORA:—I'm so glad.
(Curtain.)
13Act II.ACT II.
(Three o'clock in the afternoon, one hour before school).
(The office of the Talmud Torah)
MR. HOLLANDER:— (To his secretary.) Mr. Briker held me up to-day on the street for over an hour. He insists his boy is not at ail pleased with me. I told him that I was not at all pleased with his boy. He is very restless in the class-room, and does not have the least inclination to study. He makes disturbances in the class-room, and insults his teacher. I transfered him to Mr. Goodman's room, and there, under his milder displine, he has got still worse.
MISS ROSENZWEIG:—Well, what did he say?
MR. HOLLANDER:—He would have had to listen to my words first. After I had finished my statement, he repeated his complaint again in exactly the same words.
MISS ROSENZWEIG:—It hardly pays to waste one's time on such people.
MR. HOLLANDER:—On such puppies, you mean.
MISS ROSENZWEIG:—Not that exactly, but men with little intelligence.
MR. HOLLANDER—Well this is no time to discuss personalities. We have some important matters to attend to. I want you to write out some postals for me. (He dictates.) Dear Mrs. Abrahamson:—Your boy is quite a capable scholar. But we must complain of his irreglar attendance. He is usually late, and often absent. Just finish this yourself, and address it. (Dictates letter No. 2.) Mr. Burberitsky:—In regard to your complaint about the failure of your boy to be promoted. It is impossible for us to promote him. In the first place, he is very poor in understanding—
MISS ROSENZWEIG:—Don't say that!
MR. HOLLANDER:—Never mind, you can always tell
17the truth, even to a father. Continue—In the first place he is very poor in understanding things, and in the second place, he has no diligence at all, which is even more important.
MISS ROSENZWEIG:—I'll say that he is not over intelligent, and very poor in diligence.
MR. HOLLANDER:—All right, twist it around that way. They read it twisted anyway. Continue—your little girl would be really splendid if she were not too talkative—
MISS ROSENZWEIG:—My, he'll feel awful!
MR. HOLLANDER:—Your daughter is very bright. She is so witty that the entire class laughts at her recitations
MISS ROSENZWEIG:—He will see that you are laughing at him.
MR. HOLLANDER:—Well, write that she is—
(Abe, Willie and Lillie enter.)
Well, what can I do for you?
ABE:—We want to start in Cheder. What class will I be in?
MR. HOLLANDER:—Take a Sidder. Try to read a line or two.
ABE:—I don't know them kind of books.
MR. HOLLANDER:—Well, you'll have to start from the beginning, Room A.
ABE:—I am in second grammar, I want to be with the big guys.
MR. HOLLANDER:—We don't measure our pupils by the size of bodies but the size of their knowledge.
ABE:—(Angrily. He points to Willie and Lillie.) And these kids?
MR. HOLLANDER:—(To Willie and Lillie.) Can you read Hebrew?
WILLIE:—We never learned to daven.
LILLIE:—Dora taught me a little to sing and that's all.
MR. HOLLANDER:— (Smiling.) I guess you all three will go to the same room, and the one who will be best in
18his studies will be promoted first. (He leads them out to room A. Enter Mr. Myerowitz.)
MR. MYEROWITZ:— (To Miss Rosenzweig.) Good day, lady. Where is the principal?
MISS ROSENZWEIG:—There he comes.
MR. MYEROWITZ:— (To the principal) My name is Myerowitz. I have here two children. One will soon get Bar Mitzvah; and the other fellow, though young, but his day will come too. Now, I want you to know that I don't care for your up-to-date-systems. What do you monkey with them for hours? When they come in, learn off with them and send them home.
MR. HOLLANDER:—We don't learn off, we teach.
MR. MYEROWITZ:—Jokes aside. What do we need to talk Hebrew, to write Hebrew? Gould you go and buy a horse in Hebrew? Could you write a check in Hebrew? A Jew ought to know how to daven, that's about all. Well, we are not in Europe. Here it is a style to learnMaph-tir too. But no more!
Mr. HOLLANDER:—Don't worry, Mr.—eb—what is your name?
MR. MYEROWITZ:—Mister Myerowitz.
MR. HOLLANDER:—Don't worry so about Hebrew, Mr. Myerowitz, your children will never know it anyhow.
MR. MYEROWITZ:—So what's the use to be bothered with the Cheder?
MR. HOLLANDER:—It is enough bother to teach your boys Hebrew reading—I mean davenen. They are in a class where nothing but siddur is taught.
MR. MYEROWITZ:—Will they ever be able to daven?
MR. HOLLANDER:—Yes, if they will keep on going to Cheder for another year or so.
MR. MYEROWITZ:—Even for another five years, but: Davenen I want, you know. Here Rebbey, here, I want you to tell them to daven home every morning. Of course, I am too big to daven, but those little rascals, why shouldn't they daven? They have the time for it. Well I am going, Rabbey, I have to go in the stable, and see what the horses
19are doing. Goodbye. See that everything should be the way I told you.
MR. HOLLANDER:—Just as you said. Goodbye.
MRS. BERGOWITZ:— (Enters with her son, who had been driven out from school the day before.) He is a nice child. Only he's been spolied by bad company. What can you expect? We live among Poles, and other cheap classes of people. He had a fight with the children. He'll never do it again. Keep him among good children, and he will be a good boy.
MR. HOLLANDER:—We, in Gheder, we will do for him all we can, but you also should try to do a little more for him at home. Your help, as a mother, is very important.
MRS. BERGOWITZ:—What in the world can you expect of a weak woman like me? He takes me for a joke. His father is never at home; works all day and gambles all night. When he is sitting at the gaming table, he can gamble away his wife and children. What does his home mean to him? What does he care for his sickly wife and hungry children? Just give him good cards, his children may be as bad as they can be. Dear Rabbi (she cries), tell my child to obey his good mother.
MR. HOLLANDER:—Don't cry, dear Madam. God will grant that you will be made happy by your children. Your boy is a bright lad, and will be intelligent enough to be a dutiful son to you. Goodbye, Mrs. Bercowitz. (Enter the janitor, in the meantime, who whispers angrily to Miss Rosenzweig and goes out.)
MR. HOLLANDER:— (To Miss Rosenzweig) What is the janitor complaining about now?
MISS ROSENZWEIG:—My, the children are something terrible. They've driven out one janitor; now they are trying to drive out Johnson next. (Johnson re-enters.) Gome in, Johnson, Mr. Hollander is not busy now. You can speak to him.
JOHNSON:—Look here, boss, I won't stand for it. They have no business to call me nigger. I am just as
20good as any white man. I am respectable like a gentleman all over. I am a good church member, never was arrested in my life. I belong to the masons, and I have reached the twenty-seventh degree. I don't want to be called names.
MR. HOLLANDER:—When and where did this happen? Show me who did this, and I shall certainly punish them.
JOHNSON:—I can't do a blessed thing with them. Them kids are no good.
MR. HOLLANDER:—Never mind. Just tell me who were calling > ou names and—
JOHNSON:—Who? Nearly all of them. Yesterday they were all playing marbles on the pavement, and when I tried to stop them, they made fun of me and called me nigger. I won't stand for it. sir.
MR. HOLLANDER:—There will be a stop to that, Johnson, you can take my word for it. I will see that things of this kind will not occur again. I will address the entire school to-night. I will tell them that color is only skin deep, and if our ancestors had been living in Africa for thousands of years like yours, we would have been black too. I will tell them that the blood of a colored man is also red; that when his heart stops beating he also is dead. A colored person has the same five senses as we have; he can see, he can hear, feel, taste, and smell, like any human being. The State recognizes him as a citizen. He has equal rights with all. It would be an insult to the memory of Abraham Lincoln, if we should persecute our colored friends. If God had not liked the colored people he would not have made so many of them. I have the greatest respect, love and affection for the colored race.
JOHNSON:—Professor, you are great. I am blowed if our colored minister speaks as fine as you—all right, boss, you certainly are great! Very much obliged. Well, I have to hustle up and fix the heaters.
MISS ROSENZWEIG:—I felt sorry for that poor creature. I hope he won't leave us. Your words gave him new life and pride.
21MR. HOLLANDER:—I think so too. Particularly the second half of my oration soothed his wounded heart like balsam. I will see to it, that the children shall never again offend his colored dignity. (Mrs. Stern enters.) Well, Mrs. Stern, what can I do for you? Your children are as satisfactory as they can be. They are making excellent progress.
MRS. STERN:—I know that without you. They are good all over. In home they are nice, and in school they are nice. They are nice everywhere. Their teacher in School can't stop wondering how good they are. That's what I am sorry, really, children that learn English good in school, so why do they have to learn the same English in Cheder?
MR. HOLLANDER:—Here they learn Hebrew, not English.
MRS. STERN:—Not English? Why, the teachers talk only English with them. Every word, every word you transellate only in English. Tell me please, what do you want in Gheder English? English they learn doch in school.
MR. HOLLANDER:—Your argument may be very good. I have heard it before from the mouths of many other fathers and mothers. And I have already, I think, answered it, in a talk that I gave them at the last examination.
MRS. STERN:—You think so. You ask me, and I will tell you. Nobody isn't satisfied with your English. And many parents have really stopped off their children on account of that. But I decided I'll talk the matter with you in your face. You know, you can't get nothing out of the committee. They say no matter what you do, is right, you have a new system. But you ain't no fool. What good is a new system if the old system is good. What do you want in Gheder English? English they learn doch in school.
MR. HOLLANDER:—Let me explain the matter to you again. You are an intelligent woman. Listen to
22me intelligently, and you will see how impractical your complaint is.
MRS. STERN:—You wont mix me up. You can't buy me with compliments. I got a head like a man.
MR. HOLLANDER:—Then have patience like a man, patience.
MRS. STERN:—Patience, I had enough, more than enough. The whole time I kept quiet and kept quiet but—
MR. HOLLANDER:—But, listen to me and then you will talk as long as you please. You are perfectly right, madam. In public school they learn English and that is why it is easier—
MRS. STERN:—Aha! You look for what's easier. You want only money for nothing.
MR. HOLLANDER:—For heaven's sake, don't interrupt. Give me a chance to finish my statement. (angrily.) We don't teach English. We only explain in English. We explain in English the meanings of Hebrew words. You aren't sending your children here to learn Yiddish, Jargon, as a language, as the yiddishists demand.
(Mrs. Stern trembles with indignation.)
MRS. STERN:—What is he talking?
MR. HOLLANDER:—What you want is that they should know Kiddush, Kadish and Maphtir, that is to say, davenen and to understand what they are davening. Well, now, how are you to explain them all this? Naturally, in the language which they can understand best. If they had used the Turkish language at home and on the street, their Hebrew teacher would have to give them their instructions in Turkish. The more English they learn in school, the easier it becomes to teach them Hebrew.
MRS. STERN:—But Jewish they must doch learn also ? They are doch Jews!
MR. HOLLANDER:—You can be a very good Jew, and yet speak English.
MRS. STERN:—You can be, but are you? A Jewish child should not know a Jewish word! You have to some-
23times write a letter to grandmother in the old country. I can't write and my man is also a weak writer. Children! It cost money. Let them know it.
MR. HOLLANDER:—If you want your children to know Yiddish, they will have to give up their study of Hebrew. They will have to devote their afternoon hours to Yiddish, to Yiddish only. And not to translate Hoomosh in Yiddish. How would it look for students of Latiri to translate only into Greek. The language into which you translate you must understand thorouhgly. Your children do not speak Yiddish at home or on the street. The little Yiddish that they occasionally hear at home is not sufficient to enable them to translate the beautiful and subtle Hebrew expressions. Of course, it is easy enough to teach them to read and write in Yiddish; but to speak it, to familiarize them with the vocabulary, is not to be taught them in a few minutes per day, especially in the limited number of years devoted to Hebrew schooling. You see, we don't expect that a child should become master of Hebrew in a few years. Don't forget that a child spends as much time in Hebrew School in a week as he spends in a public school in a day. And, so we don't expect brilliant results of our American boys and girls. We only try to prevent them from becoming entirely estranged from our sacred tongue, which is more or less understood by the average orthodox Synagogue goer. We desire that the younger generation should understand something of the Hoomosh and Siddur as a man of education studies the dead languages, Latin and Greek, although he has no practical benefit from them, such as he might have from a modern language. And a Jew of culture ought to have at least some acqauintance with that tongue of the past in which his entire prestige is written and into which at certain moments of inspiration we can instill our hope and perplexities, so to speak, Our Good nights and Good mornings—
MRS. STERN:—What do you talk so much? May I know so much of my neuralgia and rheumatism as I know what you was talking. What a mixture he made up
24lere! lie mixes and mixes like a druggist and what lid he finish? With Goodnight and Goodmorning. Good iod! People call you an educated man. I wish you a joodnight and a Goodmorning and a Good day and even i Good year. But my children are no longer going to go ri your school. Me you are not going to mix up with your razy philosophy. I wrant my children they should know Yiddish. English they learn in school!
MR. HOLLANDER:—I had rather talk to your children. I could explain them the matter better.
MRS. STERN:—With your smooth little tongue you an talk in little children even a lung and liver on their toses. But I am older than you, and just like they say n the old country, "Ask advices from everybody, but do rhat your own common sense tells you." What do you hink? I am without brains like a skeleton?
MR. HOLLANDER:—Heaven forbid! How can any->ody take you for a skeleton? You are of unusual intel-igence, but unfortunately I find it impossible to make hings clear to you. MISS ROSENZWEIG:—Mr. Hollander!
MRS. STERN:—My head is clear alright. Your head 3 running like on wheels. Really I pity you. MR. HOLLANDER:—Really it is a pity.
0Curtain.)
25Act III.ACT III
Time:—Three years later, Sunday evening; eight of clock' Home of Mr. Haimowitz. Mrs. II., Lizzie, Jake, Izzie llie and Minnie are in the room.)
MR. HAIMOWITZ:— (As he enters the room.) Good ening! Was nobody here yet? Go in next door, Izzie, and .11 them all up. You know whom I mean. You can't ach Mr. Myerowitz by phone, but call up the rest. MRS. HAIMOWITZ—Will there ever be an end to >ur gambling? I thought that Mr. Hollander, in his Dture this afternoon, convinced you to give up your green ble as he calls it.
MR. HAIMOWITZ—Mr. Hollander is a good man,
right, but I am too old to take lessons of him.
LIZZIE—It is never too late to learn.
JAKE—Since when are you so pious?
LIZZIE—To give up the bad habit of cards doesn't
actly mean piety. What benefit do you derive from
aying cards?
JAKE—That is a funny question to ask. Why, you n spend a few hours enjoyably, and still make a little ending money out of it.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ—A fat lot you make, Jake. MR. HAIMOWITZ—Make, break, what are you talks' about? We are not gamblers. We are only playing pinnacle. I don't see no harm in it. IZZIE:—(Re-enters.) I called them all up, pap. Mr. ^rcowitz will soon be here. He wants mama to prepare enty of sandwiches. He says last time he didn't get here enough to eat.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:— (Stroking Minnie's hair.) Yes, will prepare for him bricks and stones. That low life. 3 wants everything. He wants the cards, the table d all.
29MR. HAIMOWITZ:—Neither have I any use for tha man.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—So what you want this mai for, that cheat? You know his tricks, don't you?
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—Well, we can't drive him out lik< a dog. I just want to catch him marking cards, tha crook. How about Myerowitz, Izzie? When is he com ing? He is as straight as a stick.
IZZIE:—Oh, he'll come in time. He is never late.
MR.—HAIMOWITZ:—And Mr. Stern?
IZZIE:—He wasn't at the phone. Mrs. Stern answerec the phone. She said that she is coming too. She didn' see mama for a long time. She said that as soon as the> will get through with their supper both of them will com< over.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—As if I hadn't a headache al ready to have her come and talk my head off. I hat* that clumsy talking machine. (Turning to Lillie.) Tak< the Hebrew book, and learn a little with Minnie. Thai little thing likes to read.
LILLIE:—Come on, Minnie. Gome, and I will teacl you Hebrew, to read and sing.
MINNIE:—Let us sing first, Lillie.
LILLIE:—Alright, stand up straight. Fold your hand behind your back and just watch me, one, two, three (Sings a Hebrew ditty.) Now, let's read a little. (Turn, the pages of the book.)
MINNIE:—I don't want this page. This is a bab: lesson. I can read like a big girl. Let me read these bij letters. I know them all. (Reads.)
LILLIE:—You read them by heart. You can't fool me
MINNIE:—No, I don't. Look! Look! (Points witi her finger.)
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:— (To Mr. Haimowitz.) Wha do you think of that? It goes like water. We ought t< send her to Cheder.
MINNIE:—I wish you would, mama.
30LILLIE:—Mr. Hollander won't take her. She is too little.
MINNIE:—Doesn't he like little girls?
LIZZIE:—No, he's an old bachelor. lie don't like babies.
MINNIE:— (Stretches herself.) I am no baby. lean read Hebrew better than you, Lizzie, if you want to know.
LIZZIE:—No, I don't want to know. Jake doesn't like girls who can read Hebrew. (Turns to Jake with a smile.) Do you, Jake?
JAKE:—Not a bit. (He gets up, pats Minnie, and beckons Lizzie to the parlor. They leave the dining room.)
MINNIE:—I don't care. One, two, three, four, Lillie, let us learn more.
LILLIE:—Its enough, dearie. I have to do my own lessons, don't I?
MINNIE:—Of course, you want to get a hundred, don't you? Can I go and get you your books? I know your books. Which books do you want, Hebrew or English? Don't you want your Hebrew books?
LILLIE:—Yes, dearie, but don't make a mistake.
MINNIE:—I won't. You'll see. I know them. (She runs over and fetches the books.) Here, Lillie, is this right?
LILLIE:—Just right. I'll see that you should go with me to Hebrew School next season. Try to eat a lot and you will grow big and fat.
MINNIE:—Don't worry. I am growing. You'll see next season, I'll be big. I'll reach you up till here (measures off a line on Lillie's shoulder. Turns to her mother.) Mama, give me something to eat. I am hungry. Give me a whole lot. I want to grow. (Mother hands her a large piece of cake which she eats greedily. Lillie sits down to prepare her lessons. Willie and Sammie enter.)
WILLIE:—(ToLillie.) Move up a little. Let me and Sammie do our lessons. We have lots of work for tomorrow. Sammie, hear me the conjugation of the verb, omor. (He recites.)
SAMMIE:—This is irregular. The first radical is omitted in the future tense.
31WILLIE:—I beg your pardon, I forgot all about it.
(Enter Dora and Abe.)
DORA:—Good evening. How did you like the Rabbi's lecture. Wasn't it just grand? Didn't he really explain the secret of memory? My, he speaks awfully clever.
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—Yes, he is a good speaker, alright. He only criticises a little too much.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—Don't the people deserve to be criticised? He says that everybody would be willing to pay all he has for the sake of living another year, a month, a week, or even a day; and in spite of that we often hear people say that they are playing cards because they want to kill time. Good gracious! Time, which is so valuable they want to kill.
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—What a big change I notice in you lately! You always used to say that you want me to play at home. You said that if I have any company you want to be in it too, and what do you want now?
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—Of course, I want you to stay home and be in my company, but not in the company of gamblers. What for do you want these gamblers? Don't you have company of your own? Hear the children; see what they have learned in Gheder. Be a Jewish father to your Jewish children.
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—You want me to hear them in Hebrew? They know more than I do.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—You can do it if you only want to. Take a Siddur and hear them Daven. (The door opens, Mr. Myerowitz enters.)
MR. MYEROWITZ:—Good evening to you. Haven't the Blackleg and er—Mr. Sleepyhead shown up yet? My, they are mighty slow.
IZZIE:—Slow and sure. They will soon be here. What time is it now? They promised to be here at nine.
MR. HAIMOWITZ:— (Takes out his watch.) Exactly twenty minutes of nine.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—The while, hear the children, the cards won't run away.
32MR. MYEROWITZ:—By golly, let me hear what your children know. My children don't know a damn. The teachers in Cheder are a bunch of fakirs.
ABE:—Don't talk like that, Mr. Myerowitz. Willie, Lillie and myself didn't know the aleph beth. To-day we can read and write Hebrew better than you might imagine.
MR. MYEROWITZ:—Oh, I can imagine you know everything, but you have not learned to Daven.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—Daven? Co, Abe, get the Sid-dur, and show Mr. Myerowitz what you can do.
DORA:—{Laughing.) That's right, Abe. Let us read a little to Mr. Myerowitz. He seems to know a great deal of Hebrew. What do you call a mare in Hebrew, Mr. Myerowitz?
MR. MYEROWITZ:—You are a mare yourself. You think you are smart. I'll bet you can't Daven.
WILLIE:—Let's bet your white pony.
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—And if you lose?
SAMMIE:—He won't lose.
MR. MYEROWITZ:—Don't be too sure. We know you learn in your crazy Cheder to sing but you can't Daven good, I am sure of that.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:— (Hands them a Siddur.) What is the use of betting? Here is a Siddur. Show them what you've learned, children. (Abe, Dora, Willie, Sammie and Lillie get around the Siddur.)
ABE:—Let's read, kids.
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—One at a time. You start, Willie.
WILLIE:—(Reads fluently and accurately.)
MR. MYEROWITZ:—He reads like a Karaim. That's the way to read. (Rereads.) You can't bluff me. (All laugh heartily.)
ABE:—Children, I suggest that Mr. Myerowitz should become principal of our school. Didn't you hear how perfectly he reads Hebrew? He is a master of the Siddur.
DORA:— (Muttering.) Of the stable.
MR. MYEROWITZ:— (Turning to Dora.) If I were your teacher, I would shut your mouth.
33ABE:—It's a good thing that you deal with horses and not with books and pupils.
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—That's enough, Abe, he is older than you. Is that what you go to Hebrew School for, to learn to insult older people?
LILLIE:—He had no business to call our principal and teacher fakirs. Our teachers are learned men, and Mr. Myerowitz can't Daven properly.
(Enter Jake and Lizzie.)
JAKE:—What's all this about? Iiello, Myerowitz.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—The children are comparing Torah with Mr. Myerowutz.
LIZZIE:—My, the Children are so stuck up with their Hebrew that nobody can talk to them (turns to the children.) What are you making so much fuss over your Hebrew for? If we would have been going to Gheder like you, we would perhaps know more than you.
JAKE:—And if you don't, it won't hurt your happiness in the least when you're married.
LIZZIE:—You are smart!
(Enter Mr. Bercowitz.)
MR. BERCOWITZ:—Who is smart?
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—You are a smart man, the best gambler in town.
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—Yes, smart enough to mark cards.
IZZIE:—What's the matter with you people to-night? You are all quarrelling.
LIZZIE:—It's all due to the little children's great man. He beats everybody with his stick.
MR. BERCOWITZ:—Whom are you talking about?
JAKE:—About our teacher and preacher. Don't you know him?
MR. BERCOWITZ:—I wish I did not know him as well as I do. He drives my boy out of the Cheder every other day.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—Probably he deserves it.
(Enter Mrs. and Mr. Stern.)
MRS. STERN:—Have you been in school this after-
34noon? Our Jewish-Englishman delivered a speech on memory. He tells us to remember. And he himself forgets that he is a Jew. He is alright, only he is half crazy. Got together a city of children and teaches English. What do the children want his English? English they learn doch in school.
DORA:—Mr. Hollander told us, in the class-room, what a long argument he had with you over the question of English in Gheder. Wasn't that fine, Abe?
ABE:—Very funny, I remember it well.
MR. STERN:—He makes fun of everybody.
MRS. STERN:—He doesn't make fun of me. He got such a call-down from me three years ago, that he will never forget it.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:— (To Mrs. Stern.) Aren't your children attending Gheder?
MRS. STERN:—Do you think I am crazy? I don't need his English. I took a private teacher who teaches Jewish, as it ought to be. I tell you, it's a pleasure to hear.
WILLIE:— (Muttering.) It's horrible to hear.
MRS. STERN:—Don't you like it, Willie? Take my word, they can teach you and your big brother too. So help me God.
ABE:—We are not examining ourselves. We have another month before examination.
MRS. STERN:—Your examination? Oh, yes! We know your bluffs. You can't fool me. I have a head like a man.
MR. STERN:—Oh, stop this nonsense. Let's go to the table. I want to play a game.
MRS. STERN:—I don't give a payem for your game. Go and play all you want. I suppose you want to lose the few cents you made yesterday.
IZZIE:—Mr. Stern never loses. He always wins.
MRS. STERN:—(To her husband.) Alright, make all you can at the table. I will keep company with Mrs. Haimowitz.
35MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—'That's right. Let's come into the parlor. Minnie, you are sleeping. Go to bed. You'll be late for school tomorrow, Willie, Lillie, and you Abe.
LILLIE:—Its too early to go to bed, mama.
WILLIE:—Of course it is. We never go to bed so early. We have some lessons to do.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—Alright, stay up. But don't make any noise. (Goes out with Mrs. Stern.) (At the table there sit Mr. Haimowitz, Myerowitz, Bercowitz and Stern. Izzie and Jake look over at the table leaning over Haimowitz and Bercowitz's chair. Lizzie sits in a corner and reads a paper.)
LIZZIE:—RABBI DECLARES WAR AGAINST GREEN TABLE.
Boston, Mass., Feb. 19—Rabbi ITochmuth, of the Temple B'nei Yeshurun, was asked to resign by order of a special meeting of the congregation, owing to the attack he made last Sunday, upon the members of the Temple, for their too frequent card-parties. Dr. Hochmuth declared that he had no sympathy with those who desired to profit from the errors of their neighbors. Gambling is ugly and treacherous. Cards are often the instrument of the devil; a black art that should never appear in a respectable home. It is a mclancholy spectacle to see how respectable domestic tables become transformed in the late hours of night, into the execrable green tables of the gamblers. It's more than melancholy, it is unutterable, it's a sin against God and man, when card-clubs are organized for the purpose, forsooth, of sociability and benevolence. Think of the colossal impertinence, of the children of Israel to organize card parties for the purpose of promoting moral institutions, I would be the last man in the world to encourage dances and balls for the benefit of orphan asylums, homes and hospitals. Not with ball dresses can you wipe away tears of suffering: not with paint and powder can you fill in the slough of despond. This righteous cry has ever been heard and most probably will ever be heard as a voice crying in the wilderness. But to accept the card fiend as an
36associate in charitable enterprise, this is a brand new crim which I will not tolerate as long as I have a pulpit under my feet. Let the Temple go to pieces, let charitable institutions disintegrate; cards will not and can not maintain them.
(Jake, Izzie and Myerowitz, Bercowitz, Stern and Hai-mowitz raise their eyes from the table. Mr. Haimowitz rises.)
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—I couldn't play on account of her reading. I guess I'll quit.
JAKE:—(To Lizzie.) Who wants you to read aloud? Why do you interrupt the game?
MR. RERCOWITZ:— (To Haimowitz.) You Straw snyder, you want to get yourself out of trouble? I can see that you are in the soup.
MR. MYEROWITZ:—Come on, boys, let's finish the game.
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—No, I won't. I don't feel like playing anymore.
MR. BERCOWITZ:— (Angrily.) I don't want that kind of business. You must finish the game.
MR. STERN:— (Quietly.) You can't compel him.
MR. BERCOWITZ:—Yes, I will compel him.
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—How, tell me how will you?
MR. BERCOWITZ:— (Gets up and clenches his fist.) With this fist I'll compel you.
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—Not in my house, you card marker.
MR. BERCOWITZ:— (Loud.) Can you prove it? Come on, prove it to me. I will punch your face.
(Excitement. Everybody runs in.)
MRS. STERN:—What do you call this, a fight?
IZZIE:—Yes, Bercowitz wants to fight papa because he don't want to finish the game.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—I have begged you a thousand times not to play with Bercowitz. I don't want cards in my house.
JAKE:—There is always a woman in the case. In this case Miss Lizzie. She couldn't find any other place to read a paper but in the dining room, and when she reads, she reads at the top of her voice.
37MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—What has her reading to do with it?
LIZZIE:—I read in the paper a piece about a Rabbi who was discharged because he lectured against cards.
JAKE:—It served him right. What business had he to interfere with people who find pleasure in a game of pin-ackel?
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—Whose business is it then? A Rabbi ought to scold the people for not acting right. That's his profession.
DORA:—Let me see the paper. Lizzie, where is it? (Takes the papers and reads silently.) That Rabbi was perfectly right. It is a disgrace to support charitable institutions through card-parties. (Turns to Abe.) Do you remember, Abe, how beautifully our Rabbi put it when he lectured on the same subject some months ago? He said: "This is a great country for sports. The daily press would have no interest for the people if not for the baseball score and pugilistic reports. The returns of the presidential election have not so eager an audience awaiting it, as our baseball scores. America is a land of balls: baseball, football, basketball, and social balls. And when a poor man has lost his cash, he carries off his bit of jewelry and his overcoat to the place where the coat of arms is —3 balls. But this is not all. I admit that America thinks highly of baseball, and properly so. He calls it the national game. The president of the United States will lay down his most important duties on the opening day of baseball in order that he may have the honor of throwing the first ball . Quite right too, it is the national game. But, my friends, cries Mr. Hollander, think for a moment of OUR national game. Think of the game that Irsael has to play among nations. The game of Sabbath against Sunday, Hanuka against Christmas, Passover against Easter, Monotheism against Polytheism, the game of the Magen David against the Gross.
JAKE:—Your Rabbi is a crackerjack.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—And you are a crooked Jake.
38JAKE:—Mrs. Haimowitz! Quarreling with me too. I am only cracking a joke.
ABE:—Let there be an end to cards in this house.
LIZZIE:—You are right, Abe.
MR. STERN:—No more cards for me. Goodbye gambling and quarrelling at the same time.
MRS. STERN:—(To her husband.) You can quarrel without cards.
MR. STERN:—Yes, if you start it up.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—Gome on, children. Tell some more of your Rabbi's remarks. We can all learn a little.
ABE:—No, mama. Our Talmudic sages claim, he that learns when old is like ink written on blotted paper.
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—Are we too old to learn anything?
LIZZIE:—Never too old to learn that cards must be abolished.
JAKE:—Look what a sudden change has taken place in this house.
IZZIE:—It is all due to the spring chickens. They teach the old hens.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—I am proud of my chicks.
MR. HAIMOWITZ:— (Points to the children.) These little Golumbuses have dsicovered for me a new world. To others she may be old but to us, Slatta, (he puts his arm around her) a new world, a new Jewish world.
(All guests with the exception of Dora bid goodnight and leave Mrs. and Mr. Haimowitz retire, and the children follow suit. Abe and Dora alone remain.)
DORA:—Well, I must be going too. It's so late-papa will be wondering what's happen to me.
ABE:—Please, Dora, don't go yet. Can't you stay here just a few minutes more? (He seizes her hand and detains her as she is about to rise from her seat.)
DORA:—(Laughing.) Well, I will if you insist. Well, well, and who would have thought that this nasty card playing could turn out like that? I always have hated this gambling. I think it is so ugly.
ABE:—It is ugly.
39DORA:—Oh, ugly isn't the word for it. I think it's horrid. And this Mr. Myerowitz is such a vulgar man. I hope I will never meet him here again.
ABE:—I'm so happy, Dora.
DORA:—So am I. I'm glad your papa has decided never to gamble again. I think the time could be more profitably spent in other things.
ABE:—Not so much on account of that.
DORA:—What do you mean?
ABE:—I mean—look where I wras some three years ago, and look where I am to-day. Just to think, three years ago I was such an ignorant young fellow. I had no more idea of Jewish literature or Jewish learning or the beauty of Hebrew ideals than I had of Egyptian astrology. Life has become so much more beautiful now. And it means so much to me. Do you know, Dora, I have been reading up lately on the Zionistic movement. I think this beautiful dream of old Jacob will some day become a reality. And the world will sit up and take notice. We are the greatest people under the sun, Dora (gets up and stretches himself to his full stature) and it is up to us to realize it. Yes, and to make the world realize it too. I see you are getting sleepy.
DORA:—No, no, go on, you can't im—
ABE:—I am so happy to-night, Dora. See how peaceful everything is. I guess they are all asleep now. Dora, will you let me (makes an effort to kiss her and Dora shrinks back.) Please, Dora (she allows him; he kisses her. He takes her hand and both sit together in silence.)
DORA:—You are so strange to-night.
ABE:—Forgive me, Dora. It is late now. May I escort you home?
DORA:—Yes, do. (Both go out.)
Curtain.
40Act IV.ACT IV
(The home of Mr. Haimowitz. Abe's study. Everything in confusion. Books, clothes, etc., scattered about on the floor, near a large open trunk. Abe, bustling around packing his trunk, Minnie, Willie, Lillie standing around.
ABE:—Now, children, don't stand around idle. Do something. Lillie, fetch me that black suit on the chair. Willie, hand me over these books. Minnie, you are a nuisance. Go downstairs to mama. (None of the children move, but continue to watch their brother, who proceeds with his operations.)
MINNIE:—And won't you never come back home to us anymore?
ABE:—(Takes her up and kisses her.) Yes, I will, darling, when you're a great big girl, bigger than Lizzie. And I will bring you many nice presents from the Holy Land.
LILLIE:—Will you bring me presents too?
ABE:—Yes, you too. I will bring presents for all of you. And when I come back I will be a famous man. You will read about me in the papers.
WILLIE:—Gee, I wish you would take me with you.
ABE:—No, Willie, you stay home, and be a good boy. Study hard. Don't do as I did and waste a lot of valuable time playing about the streets when you could be learning something that would make you a useful man, a man respected by the people.
LILLIE:—Will you write to us?
ABE:—(Cheerily.) I certainly will. I will send you letters and post-cards every day. Don't worry, you'll hear from me often. And I will send you my picture taken in Palestine when I get over.
WILLIE:—Are these the books you wanted?
ABE:—Yes, thank you. They go in on the side here. (Puts them in and continues packing.)
43LILLIE:—What time do you leave?
ABE:—I must make the 12 o'clock train for New York to-night. The steamer leaves exactly 6 A. M. In fact I should have left this afternoon. I'm sorry I put it off (wipes his brow.) My, there are an awful lot of things to attend to before one can get away.
MINNIE:—Will you take me to the station?
ABE:—No, dear, you will be all tucked up in bed sleeping. Now go downstairs, children, please. You are only keeping me from my work. (Exeunt children. Abe continues packing in silence for a minute. Enters Mrs. Hai-mowitz.)
MRS. IIAIMOWITZ:—Well, are you all packed up?
ABE:—No, I hardly know where to begin. You have no idea what a lot of work all this is.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—Abe, why must you go? Can't you stay with us? Don't you have here all the comforts? Why must you leave your poor mother? (She sits down and cries.)
ABE:—Please don't cry, mother. It is my duty. I love home, and I love you, and everybody else, but there is a great nation on the other side of the ocean waiting for me and I must go and help them. This is my life work, mother, this is my ideal. My place is with them. They are waiting for men, men of brains and energy, to become the greatest nation on earth. Why should I not be one of them? The Lord will inspire me—
MRS. IIAIMOWITZ:—But you are so young. Why can't you wait till you are a few years older?
ABE:—Young! Youth is the time of one's greatest inspirations, of one's loftiest ideals. You old folks are like spent'soda water with the sizzle all gone. What do you knowTof the" fires of life, ambition and dreams, oh, such beautiful dreams—
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—Yes you can dream, but some day you'll wake up and find you were only dreaming. Why should you not be sensible!? You are only a boy; wait
44till you're a man—why can't you wait till you are a man?
ABE:—I am a man, mother—Don't talk nonsense. I am going, that's all. (Enter Mr. Haimowitz.)
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—So. well, Abe, you're going, what?
ABE:—Yes, I am.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—The boy is crazy, that's all.
ABE:—I would rather be crazy and be doing something for humanity, than be sane and doing something only for myself. Oh, what a selfish world we're living in! Why are we all so utterly selfish? Life is but a span; existence is but a dream; why must we live as though we ourselves were the only persons that lived on this earth and everybody else was a shadow? There is no use of arguing this question all over again. I've argued it again and again with each and everyone of you, and it always ends up the same way. I am going, that's all, and to-night.
MRS. HAIMOWITZ:—Well, can you do something with this boy?
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—What time does the train start out?
ABE:—At twelve. I shall leave the house at eleven sharp. What time is it now? (Looks at the clock on the mantel piece.) Gracious, it's half past seven, and my packing isn't half through yet. I don't see how I'm ever going to get done.
MR. HAIMOWITZ:—Let us go downstairs, Slatta, and leave the boy pack up. (They go out. Abe continues packing and arranging his effects. Willie appears at the head of the stairs.)
WILLIE:—Dora is here, Abe.
ABE:— (Coloring slightly.) Is she?
WILLIE:—She says she wants to know if she can come upstairs and speak to you.
ABE:—Why, yes. Tell her to come up. (Hastens to the mirror and arranges his tie and hair, yls he turns Dora enters.)
45ABE:—Oh, Dora.
DORA:—Are you surprised to see me here, Abe?
ABE:—Am I? I should say I am. I am not half through this work yet, and I am working like everything. Sit down. (Hands her a chair. She seats herself. He sits on the edge of the trunk directly opposire her.) Well, Dora, tomorrow morning I will be smelling the breezes of the Atlantic. Doesn't it all seem wonderful? I had been thinking of this matter for several months, and said nothing about it. It came to me like an inspiration, and has made me so happy, Dora. I have only one regret.
DORA:—What is it?
ABE:—Nothing, nothing.
DORA:—Your friends will be missing you, Abe.
ABE:—Not as much as I will be missing them. But they will never be far away. I will always have them with me in my thoughts. But in my heart (puts his hands to his heart) I will carry with me a message to the entire people of Israel. A message, yes.
DORA:—And—And will we never see you again?
ABE:—Oh, yes. Some day I will return when our mission is accomplished, and take my folks, and my friends perhaps too, back to the land of their ancestors, to the cradle of their race. Palestine! Isn't there magic in the sound of the word Palestine?
DORA:—There was a time when you spoke differently.
ABE:—Was there? Yes; but I have grown, my horizon has expanded, and has been flooded with the light of a new and rising sun. My people think I am too young. They forget that it is in our youth that we are most active. It is in our youth that we accomplish our greatest works. Abraham was only a child when he destroyed the idols of his father. How old was David when he smote Goliath and drove back to Philistines? Augustus was only, I think, nineteen years old when he became Emperor of
46Rome, which covered practically the civilized world. Alexander the Great was not quite twenty-three when he set out to conquer the world. Youth is not such an obstacle as people imagine. Yes, I acknowledge, three years ago I knew nothing of all this. But I was then like a caterpillar asleep in its cocoon, which one day breaks out and finds itself a winged butterfly. I have grown the wings of new ideals, and I now seek the garden lands of Hebrew nationality; so you see I must fly away.
DORA:—You talk very prettily.
ABE:—And yet I cannot help feeling sad.
DORA:—(Taking his hand.) I wonder why. You should feel so happy.
ABE:—Oh, Dora, how can you say that?
DORA:—What do you mean?
ABE:—Can't you guess the secret of my only sorrow?
DORA:—How can I guess?
ABE:—It is late now, and I suppose we can only be a few more hours together. And then you will leave me, and I will never—and we may not meet again for years. Who knows? I may never see you again.
DORA:—Neither will you ever see again your papa, or your mamma, and all your friends here.
ABE:—And so I will make a confession to you, though, alas, it is a useless one. DORA:—What is it?
ABE:—(Takes her hand and looks into her eyes.) Have you never guessed how I loved you?
DORA:—(Starts slightly.) Love me?
ABE:—Didn't you know? (Waits in silence for an answer, and receiving none, resumes.) Oh, Dora, now the confession is out, and I can speak. Dora, do you remember the time when you begged me to enter Hebrew School? Well, I loved you then, although you didn't suspect it; and I learnt to love you more and more every day. I can't'account for it; it is your irresistible charm, Dora, and my heart filled itself with^a sweetness as if
47laden with honey. And now it is a strong passion that fires my brain and bids me forget the Holy Land, and the Cause, and the Call of the Jew, and stay here with you, and live, and live, and live.
DORA:—Oh, if this could be true!
ABE:—How rosy and sweet could be life with you by my side forever. Together we could conquer the world. Away from you, the world becomes gray and hard, and life an arduous journey over a rocky road—Oh, Dora, if you could only go with me! But don't let me ask it of you, don't. Your place is here among your friends, in your family. You have often told me how you hate to be exiled in a strange land. Well, to me America is exile, and Palestine is home. ]\Iy place is there, and yet I must leave you. I am sorry we have met; I wTas wishing I would not see you to-night. Oh, Dora! how can I leave you? (Throws his head into her lap and sobs.)
DORA:—But Abe, why must you go? Listen to me, please don't interrupt me. Palestine is a long way off, and only a small fraction of the Jewish race are over there. Here, there are hundreds of thousands of Jews that need the inspiration of such a man as yourself. In every town in this country you will find them. In any town you go to I am sure you will make a name for yourself as a man of prominence, and influence, and you can do for them quite as much as you can over there. What will you do in that city of poverty, and ignorance—ignorance of everything save tradition—where half the population is engaged in begging alms for the other half, and devotion to the ruins of a buried past has taken the place of devotion to a living cause. Abe, why will you be so foolish? Abe, yes, I love you too, and it will break my heart to see you leave. But I cannot leave my sick old mother, it would break her heart and it would be foolish, Oh, so foolish. Why can't you stay with us, Abe? We could be so happy together.
48ABE:—Oh, why have I seen you to-night? Now my head swims, and I don't know what to say. I will go, Dora. Neither you nor any one else shall keep me from it. I will go, even though I go and leave my heart behind. I will go if I have to leave everything that is sweet and joyful behind. I will bury on the shores of America my whole unhappy past, and in Asia I will lead a new life. I will forget; let us both forget. Please do not say anything more—You cannot guess what these words cost me.
DORA:—You are so young, Abe. You have only the faintest idea of what life really meaTv. To you it seems such a simple matter to leave home, go to a strange land, help to regenerate it, and come back crowned with laurels! I am not older than you, Abe, but we girls mature more quickly. We are women, matured women, when you are yet young boys. We look at things differently, oh, so differently. We see things in their real, sad perspective, when you see them in a halo of red dreams. Abe, you are an ambitious boy, and an able boy, and if you stay here, you will succeed, I'm sure, like a thousand other ambitious and able boys. You can study here, and be a minister, and preach all your lofty ideals to large rich congregations, and receive a big salary, and settle down, and be happy, and make me happy with you. And we can walk together down the road of life to where the sun sets, and another day begins. But if we part—who knows—we may never meet again—and you will come to a land of ignorant pensioners who live on crusts and onions and the charity of a sympathetic world. And what will you do there, preach to them? There are enough preachers without you. Palestine wants farmers, and you are no farmer—
ABE:—Dora, why do you say.all these things? Things have changed. Jerusalem is rising to-day out of its ruins. The Colonies of Palestine are already regenerating. The wine industry and the fruit industry of Palestine are famous to-day over the world. Palestine, beautiful Palestine, is' white w ith cotton fields, and its air is perfumed
49with orange groves. And big institutions are rising up too. The Bezalel Art School has won the admiration of every metropolis of Europe; and the Poly technical Institute is rising to-day. And the University of Jerusalem is a thing near to-morrow, where the mystic learning of the past and the dauntless science of the present will unite. And I am sure in all these activities I will find something useful to do. I will help in the great work of uplifting the Jewish cause, reviving the spirit of Jewish culture, making the 1 Ioly Land in name a Holy Land in fact in the eyes of the world. I will find enough to do.
DORA:—Abe, oh Abe, you are like all young dreamers whose dreams burst like bubbles and leave a nasty spot to mark their place. You will be broken hearted and misera-able, and life will become one black disappointment, and I am sure you will not return to Wilmington—I am sure you will not return to Wilmington— (sobs.) You will not return—(sobs bitterly.)
ABE:—Yes, I will return.
DORA:—You won't, you won't.
ABE:—(Gels up and paces the room nervously.) Dora, you will not shear me of my locks. You will not rob my strength. I am going if I have to drown in the Atlantic on the wTay. I am going if I am going to be torn limb from limb when I get there. Why do you enervate me with your woman's tears? Oh, why did you come to-night? I am going, and I will accomplish my purpose, and I will return and take you back with me and then you will be proud of me. I don't want to be one of your fat mediocres, feeding from the hand of some complacent plutocrats and droning out the views that arc battered into his head with the heartless club of capitalism. Yes, such men don't have any conscience, they don't have any opinions of their own. They don't have any heart, or else, why don't they sound the call and collect again the scattered tribes of Israel into a host, and revive the land of their ancestors, and turn back the glorious pages of this history? Why don't—
50(Enter Mr. Hollander. Abe stops short and stands with his back to the wall. Dora retains her position sobbing. Silence.)
MR. HOLLANDER:—What does this mean, my friends? Are you quarrelling about something?
DORA:—He is leaving to-night.
ABE:—Yes, to-night, and please don't try to dissuade me from it. You can't do it.
MR. HOLLANDER:—I am not going to dissuade you from such a noble ambition. I only came in to wish you God-speed.
ABE:—Oh, thank you. You are so kind. You are the only sympathetic friend I have in Wilmington. You are the only one that understands me.
MR. HOLLANDER:—What time do you leave?
ABE:—At eleven o'clock.
MR. HOLLANDER:—Why didn't you say anything about this to me before?
ABE:—Well, I'll be frank. . I thought you would try to discourage me like the rest.
MR. HOLLANDER:—Discourage you? No, I would not care to discourage anyone from following the promptings of his conscience.
ABE:—So you think I can succeed?
MR. HOLLANDER:—That is a different question.
ABE:—Why can't I succeed?
MR. HOLLANDER:—I am sorry to have to answer a question like this. I was young once like yourself, and like yourself I had beautiful dreams. And if anyone had come to me when I was a young man of twenty and called me an impractical dreamer, I would have laughed into his face, and called him a narrow minded fool.
ABE:—Well, well?
MR. HOLLANDER:—Well, I went to the Holy Land.
ABE and DORA:—You did?
ABE:—And what did you see there? How did you find it? Did you accomplish anything there?
51MR. HOLLANDER:—I accomplished this: I came back with a great deal or infofmation that I could never have picked up otherwise. I went there as a Utopian Zionist and an impractical dreamer. I returned a sadder and wiser man.
ABE:—So much for the vitality of your ideals.
MR. HOLLANDER:—So much for the vitality of facts and common sense.
ABE:—Then why do you want me to go there?
MR. HOLLANDER:—I want you to see all these things for yourself.
ABE:—Tell me a little about your experiences in the Holy Land.
MR. HOLLANDER:—It was seven years ago. I then left South Africa where I was established in a profitable business, which I sold for several hundred pounds, and set out with this small capital for the Holy Land. This is what I found out when I got there. Listen, Abe, the life of a nation is long, praticularly a nation such as ours, and it can afford to have patience, and wait for its destiny, however distant that might be. But with an individual it is different. The life of a man is too short, and before his nation can attain anywhere near its goal, he has reached the goal from which there is no returning.
ABE:—Yes, yes, that is all very well. But tell me about Palestine.
MR. HOLLANDER:—I am coming to that.
DORA:—Oh, Abe, why do you interrupt?
ABE:—Forgive me. I won't interrupt again.
MR. HOLLANDER:—Palestine is in need of two things, capital and labor. Money, plenty of money, and plenty of manual work. I had neither of these things. My finances were too paltry to permit me to undertake anything, and as for physical strength, I never did have very much of that. And I began to doudt, very much, this ideal of becoming a worker of the soil, even though the soil be the hills of Judeah. I felt that in other more pro-
52gressive lands, among my own race, I could make myself useful. And as for my ideals of Ziomisn, I began to see before me oceans of better possibilities where my activities could be infinitely more useful. There is infinitely more to be done among our masses in western Europe, and here in America in spreading Zionistic spirit and thought among the people. They need it far more than the active Zionists need the practical results of their efforts.
ABE:—This is a rather startling statement.
MR. HOLLANDER:—Understand me clearly. One of our leaders says, "The rich need more Zionistic thought than the poor need bread." This means the rich need the spirit and pride of the Zionist, his independence, his freedom from slavish submission to anti-Jewish sentiments, and his whole hearted and vital belief in the Jewish cause— they need this more than the poor need bread. Bread feeds only the body, but pride and spirit and independence feeds the soul.
ABE:—Go on, go on.
MR. HOLLANDER:—Such institutions as the Bezalel, the Polytechnical Institute, and others, must first serve those who are present on the soil; and the first big sums to be taken out of the "National Fund" must be used for buying up farms and implements for those who have been born and raised in Palestine and yet can claim no part of its soil as their own. It is pathetic to see how many of these young men are forced to abandon Palestine altogether and seek a livelihood in England, France and America. And if no aid, financial aid, comes to Palestine, our Holy Land will in the few decades lose its best elements. I realized that there was nothing there for a poor man like me to do, and I left a few months later.
ABE:—Then what can a man do for his race?
MR. HOLLANDER:—Look here, Abe, you have been born and bred here in America, a land of millions of people, and millions of opportunities, a land of progress, a land of factories and colleges, mines and railroads, a land that
53allots to the one the pen, and to another the spade, a'land where each man can employ his energies according to his best aptitudes. You, Abe, are now in the prime of your life. You are surrounded on all sides by opportunities. Select that which appeals most to you, and build up a career. Don't forget that before we can improve humanity we must improve ourselves. Martyrdom is Medieval. Palestine is no longer the land of sacrifices. She'll pay good dividends to capital, and good wages to labor. Capital she seeks from all over the world, but labor, the manual labor of strong young men, she seeks only from those dark lands where tyranny and poverty have rendered life intolerable for the Jewish youth. For them even the Palestine of to-day is a new America. Let only those come to Palestine, who have something to gain, not all to lose. My friend, build up your career, right here, where your building material is plenty and varied. When you are mighty, in finance or fame, or technical or scientific attainments, you may then go to the land of your ancestors and bring a real material blessing to its shores. Let us hope that such a morrow will come, but in the meantime, Abe, work in the to-day, the to-day, in which man lives, and struggles and dies.
ABE:—Your shafts, Doctor, have struck their mark. Your words are practical and logical. (Turns to Dora and smiles.) What you could not accomplish with love and beauty, Mr. Hollander has done with logic and wisdom.
MR. HOLLANDER:—Logic and wisdom is not enough. We must have work, and I hope you will vindicate this logic in your work.
ABE:—I shall, I shall. I shall stay here, Doctor. Dora, I shall stay here and we will never part, never. (.Embraces her.) Doctor, I will enter the Delaware Engineering School this fall.
DORA:—Not the Seminary?
MR. HOLLANDER:—No, let it be the Technical School. Enough of talk, we want deeds. There are
54enough preachers and teachers. What we need in Palestine is railroads and factories, and modern methods of agriculture, and roads, bridges and cities. Under the magic hand of science these shall rise there as they have risen here, in a day.
DORA:—And I will see you often, Abe?
ABE:—Yes, Dora, every day.
DORA:—Oh, Abe. (Throws herself into his arms. Hollander looks on smilingly.)
Curtain.
END.
55GLOSSARY
SHOOL—Synagogue CHEDER—Hebrew school.
TALMUD TORAH—Institution for the study of
the Bible and cognate subjects HAZZAN—Chanter of hymns BAR MITZVAH—Confirmation SIDDUR—Hebrew prayer book DA YEN—Prayer
KIDDUSH—Sabbath eve benediction KADISH—Mass for the departed MAFTIR—Chapter from the Prophets read
by the child at confirmation ERETZ ISRAEL—Land of Israel, viz,. Palestine REBITSIN—Feminine term for Rabbi RABONIM—RabbisFOR SALE BY
M. H. KAAPLANDER
9 W. 11TH STREET
WILMINGTON, DEL. OR AT
BROWN BROTHERS
BOOK-SHOP 209 S. 13TH STREET PHILADELPHIA