My former companion seemed to have
become oblivious of my existence.
As we resumed our walk up Broadway the bejeweled man turned
to me
"And what was your occupation? You have no trade, have you?"
"I read Talmud," I said, confusedly.
"I see, but that's no business in America," he declared. "Any
relatives here?" "Well, don't worry. You will be all right. If a
fellow isn't lazy nor a fool he has no reason to be sorry he came to
America. It'll be all right."
"All right" he said in English, and I conjectured what it meant
from the context. In the course of the minute or two which he
bestowed upon me he uttered it so many times that the phrase
engraved itself upon my memory. It was the first bit of English I
ever acquired
The well-dressed, trim-looking crowds of lower Broadway
impressed me as a multitude of counts, barons, princes. I was
puzzled by their preoccupied faces and hurried step. It seemed to
comport ill with their baronial dress and general high-born
appearance
In a vague way all this helped to confirm my conception of
America as a unique country, unlike the rest of the world
When we reached the General Post-Office, at the end of the Third
Avenue surface line, our guide bade us stop
"Walk straight ahead," he said to me, waving his hand toward Park
Row.
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