On one occasion, when it was the boy's turn to read and he
said "bat" for "bath," the teacher bellowed, imperiously: "Stick out
the tip of your tongue! This way."
The boy tried, and failed
"Oh, you have the brain of a horse!" his father said, impatiently, in
Yiddish. "Let me try, Mr. Teacher." And screwing up his
bewhiskered old face, he yelled, "Bat-t-t!" and then he shot out
half an inch of thick red tongue
The teacher grinned, struggling with a more pronounced
manifestation of his mirth
"His tongue missed the train," I jested, in Yiddish
One of the other pupils translated it into English, whereupon
Bender's suppressed laughter broke loose, and I warmed to him
still more.
Election Day was drawing near. The streets were alive with the
banners, transparencies, window portraits of rival candidates,
processions, fireworks, speeches. I heard scores of words from the
political jargon of the country. I was continually asking questions,
inquiring into the meaning of the things I saw or heard around me.
Each day brought me new experiences, fresh impressions, keen
sensations.
Pages:
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215