"American kids have not much
respect for their fathers, anyhow."
As a preliminary to his initial lesson Nodelman offered to show
me what he could do. When I brought pen and ink and some paper
he cleared his throat, screwed up a solemn mien, and took hold of
the pen. In trying to shake off some of the ink he sent splashes all
over the table. At last he proceeded to write his name. He handled
the pen as he would a pitchfork. It was quite a laborious
proceeding, and his first attempt was a fizzle, for he reached the
end of the paper before he finished the "in" in Nodelman. He tried
again, and this time he was successful, but it was three minutes
before the task was completed. It left him panting and wiping his
ink-stained fingers on his hair
"A man who has to work as hard as that over his signature has no
business to be seen among decent people," he said, with sincere
disgust. "I ought to be a horse-driver, not a manufacturer."
So speaking, he submitted his signature for my inspection,
without, however, letting go of the sheet
"Tell me how rotten it is," he said, bashfully
When I protested that it was not "rotten" at all he grunted
something to the effect that once I was to instruct him he would
expect to pay me, not for empty compliments, but for the truth.
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