Of this I
was now spending, including tuition fees, less than six dollars a
week. Every time I changed a dollar my heart literally sank within
me. Finally, when my cash was all gone, I borrowed some money
of Joe, my "rabbi" at the art of cloak-making.
Breaking the round sum total of my savings-bank account was out
of the question. Joe advanced me money more than cheerfully. He
was glad to have me in his debt as a pledge of my continuing to
work for him. His motive was obvious, and yet I went on
borrowing of him rather than draw upon my bank account
One day it crossed my mind that it would be a handsome thing if I
looked up Gitelson and paid him the ten dollars I owed him. It
was sweet to picture myself telling him how much his ten dollars
had done and was going to do for me. I was impatient to call on
him, and so I borrowed ten dollars of Joe and betook myself to the
factory where I had visited Gitelson several times before. As he
was a sample-maker, his work knew no seasons. When I called at
that factory I found that he had given up his job there, that he had
married and established a small custom-tailor shop somewhere
up-town, nobody seemed to know where.
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