Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 235, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 October 1913 — Page 3

NEW YORK GREATEST JEWISH CITY

FOR centuries it has been the custom of certain old world governments to confine the Jewish population to definite section of the cities where the Jewish* population has been large. These Jewish confines have been known as Ghettos. When the exodus of Jews from Russia, from Poland, from Roumania, and Hungary was at Its height these old world Hebrews took unto themselves that section of the lower East side of New York which lies east of the Bowery clear down to the East river and in the course of time this district became so wellnigh universally Jewish that the word Ghetto came to be applied to it. It was in reality a veritable Ghetto, comparable to the greatest Ghettos of the old world, only vaster. It is still today a greater city of Jews than the world has ever known. Accustomed through the centuries which have gone to be forcibly confined within a given area, transplanted to the new world, where no such restrictions have ever existed, these people have yet adhered very largely to their traditional habits. Held together not only by the bonds of orthodoxy, but by the scars of ancient political bondage, they have brought with them not only their religion, their racial traits and customs, but the forms of life and habits which their previous existence had Imposed upQn them. It would seem a misnomer, perhaps, to characterize any section of this wonderful city as “unchanging,” but the Ghetto represents more nearly unchanging New York than any other. Btreet Merchants. In the perspective of 30 years, or even 20 years, the lower East side has completely altered. Immigrants from Great Britain and Ireland and from Germany, who at that time practically possessed this section, have departed. Their exodus began with the advent of (he Jewish population. Certain streets were, however, retained by these nationalities until very recently, but now even this old guard has given up and the section is altogether Jewish, with a slight fringe of Italians. In other words, the great orthodox Ghetto of ten years ago is the self-same Ghetto today, only more so. Here and there a towering office building has taken the place of a tenement house or a ramshackle business building; certain magnificent schoolhouses, the largest in the world, have been erected, but the drift of life through all the old Btreets is just the same. Pushcarts line the streets to the inconvenience and demoralization of traffic, whole blocks of them, solid, in certain streets, and on these carts are displayed every conceivable article of necessity to human existence. At the corner of Essex and Hester 'streets is the same old Jewish labor market, where loiter the workmen waiting to be employed, carpenters with their saws and hammers, locksmiths with their huge rings of keys, plasterers, bricklayers, men of every grade, representatives of every trade, standing hour after hour, and frpm time to time bargaining, with a prospective employer over the price of their time and their labor. The peanut stands, the old women peddling Strings of garlio and bags of onions, the fruit venders and the pickle merchants with their pails of luscious cucumbers, pickled apples and tomatoes, and down under the shadow of the new bridge the fish women, whose wares are exposed to all the dust and dirt and filth that files through this miserably uncared-for section of the city. On almost every corner and scattered through many blocks, are the pavement soda water fountains, where •oda of many bright hues is dispensed at one and two cents a glass. The doorways are blocked by fat old women, whose chief occupation in

life seems to be to sit wit£ folded aims and watch the kaleidoscope of the street. Myriad children swarm under foot, shouting back and forth to each other, sometimes in Yiddish, sometimes in English, usually in sen-, tences of both tonguos. r ~'“ Changing, Yet Changeless. The very fact that all of this life is so precisely like the life of the East side eight or ten years ago naturally makes one curious to understand what has become of the influence of the public schools, the playground centers, the settlements, and all the other innumerable philanthropic charitable and educational institutions which have been established there for many years. As one walks through the streets there are few, if any, evidences of progress, It is still an orthodox Jewry. Ten yeaps ago thousands upon thousands of boys and girls, young men and young women, were looked upon as “Americans in process.” One naturally asks what has become of the Americans or what has happened to the process. In the answer to this Question lies one more of the interesting features of this situation. The lower East side is in the'nature of a great human sieve. Here the Immigrants come and locate immediately they have landed, for In this Ghetto they find a life in outward semblance similar to the life of the Ghettos they have left in Europe. Every one speaks Yiddish and consequently ignorance of English is no drawback. Jewish customs prevail. The prevailing atmosphere Is Jewish. Here they are at home. The schools, the settlements, and the social centers are open to their children, who are never slow to avail themselves of the advantages and opportunities offered them. But as soon as the younger generation has secured ever so slight a foothold, they are seized with the desire to move "up-town,” so they go to the Bronx, to East New York or to Brownsville, making place for the more recent arrivals from Europe. Thus it is that the East side while composed of a different population, is still the Bame; while changing It •Is still unchanged. The flux of life which continues month after month expels from its borders those who have become slightly Americanized. At the same time, receiving others of the orthodox type who maintain the standard of life and keep unsoiled from the world about them the oldtime atmosphere of the Ghetto. In certafn respectß the East side of today Is a better East side than of ten years ago. For one thing, there is less criminality of a serious character. Formerly young boys, scarcely out of school, took lessons from experienced pickpockets and practiced their trade among the throngs of the East side streets and the Bowery and on various crosstown cars which intersect the Ghetto. But a little time ago an ordinance was passed which made "jostling” in a crowd a misdemeanor and a penal offense. This practically broke the backbone of the pickpocket ring for jostling is essential to the successful operation of pickpocketing on the part of novices. The old-time Fagln no longer exists and the youth of the East side have learned that pocketpicking' dors not pay. Gambling exists because gambling will always exist In a Jewish population. It is a temperamental and racial trait. Municipal judges inform me tb«t drinking is on the Increase among the Jewish population of the East side. This has never been a racial characteristic. Drunkenness, like total abstinence, has heretofore been unknown, or practically so, among this population, but latterly there has been a tendency, especially on the part of the younger generation, toward the consumption of spirituous liquors, which has resulted In a marked Increase of drunkenness on the part of the younger Jews.

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IXD.

MEDDLESOME OLD MAN

By DOROTHEA THOMPSON.

They used to say, when I was a boy at home, that If I grew up without being jailed for forgery it would speak well for my home training. However that is, I had a knack of copying to a nicety any signatures or addresses that I picked up. I used to do it for the fun of the thing, but never, even in school-boy crises when a note from home would have worked wonders with a hard-hearted teacher, did I use the gift to my own ends. Beyond, that is, making the boys’ eyes pop at the way I could reproduce their crude boyish signatures or the more flowing and flowery ones of the teachers. I’m an old man now, and comfortably enough off, but what I have has come to me honestly. I have wondered, sometimes, whether the accomplishment was still at my fingers’ ends, but—lt still is! Next to my little four-room bachelor apartment is its twin, a rear flat; and not so many months ago it was taken by two girls—gentle and wellbred, or I’m no judge of character. The older of the two I had no love so quiet, dark girl, too sober by far for her years. But the young one! I could hear her singing through the paper-thin walls of the cheap flat, and I grew to distinguish her voice in the indistinct murmur when they were talking. She was as full of songs and thrills and sheet light-heart-edness as a bird. The fitst time I saw her I thought to myself that she deserved better than to be cooped up in a four-room flat with a sister who would probably be just as happy without her. But there I was mistaken. Her sister adored her. However, I discovered before long that I was not alone in my opinion of her deserts, and many is the time I’ve heard her laughing voice in the hall answered by a masculine one, and not always the same one, at that.

But she had her favorite. I could hear the note of real welcome in her vqice for one of them—a fine lad, as deserving of her as ever a man was of a woman. Tall and strong and well-born, her choice was easily my choice, too. I used to pass them in the hall often on their way to some merry-making, and she had ever bright nod and a word for me. And then, when they came back, many’s the time I’ve caught the note of tern derness in her voice as she said goodnight to him at the door. And he adored her—one look at him when they were together would have told that. In the snatches of their conversation I got as they passed through the halls—anything said in the halls was common property to all four flats —I learned several things about (hem. For one thing, there was real sympathy between them, understanding that was surprising, considering their youth. Another was that each of them had not a little pride, which, but for the love between them, might have caused trouble of no common sort. Going through the halls one day I found a scrap of paper, a note, folded in half, but with no address on it. I opened and read it rather shamefacedly. It was in French, and said that the writer had gone out, would be back in an hour, and please to wait. Then a little sentence Of affection, that old as I am made my heart beat faster in sympathy. It was signed "Mercy,” and Mercy was the name of my young favorite. I turned it over, and saw, what had escaped me before, that it had three initials on the out-sider-B. L. C. I remembered a sentence of laughing remonstrance once -—“Why, Bert Carter!” Undoubtedly she had tucked the note behind her mail-box for him to find if he came over unexpectedly. I put it back guiltily. Bless the babes! Did they think that no one else in the city spoke French? Still, I reviewed our fellow flat-dwellers, and decided that save for tne they would have been safe. In winter came a tiipe when my little Mercy was sick. A light case of scarletina, her sister said—told me through the door. Really nothing at all dangerous, only too contagious to allow her sister to go to and from ber school-teaching, or even through the halls. So I got into the habit of bringing up their mail to them, and every morning there was a letter for Miss Mercy Judson in the same handwriting. I was rather interested in that hand-writing; if I had been unable to class the boy before that writing of his would have helped me. It was unadorned, and rather smaller than the average masculine handwriting, but it Carried with it a sense of absolute reliability. Foolish, perhaps, but I have always thought that my gift carries with it the ability to read character in writing. When Mercy recovered the spring came on as if by a signal. I heard the boy’s voice again in the halls, and met them going in and out again, as happy and over-joyed as if she had come back from the brink of the grave to him. The sewing machine was busy those days —I could tell by the whir It made —and once when I brought up a letter that someone had dropped Jfercy came running to the door with her hands filled with fluffy white stuff. I felt as happy, and yet as bereaved, as If she were my own daughter and getting ready to leave me. Everything was quite as it should be though, and I hoped fervently that they’d be ag happy as they deserved. Then in April something happened. I heard them at the door one night, and listened deliberately for the

“Good night, Bert, dear,” that Always came. But this time I was disappointed. Instead, I heard the boy say with feigned cheerfulness: “Good night, Miss Judson,” and her answering “Good night, Mr : Carter,” I didn’t like that It sounded serious beneath the banter. Then the boy said soberly, “Be sure I’ll come when you send for me, Mercy.” And Mercy answered with gentle stubbornness, “I’ll never write till I hear from you, Bert,” and the door closed slowly. Bert didn’t know, as I did, that Bhe stood waiting at the door instead of hurrying down the long passageway; waited till the clatter of Bert’s feet on the stairs and the slam of the door proved to her that Bert had really gone. Then I heard her go back down the passage, and after a minute she began to play the piano. But iff a moment more that stopped with a discord, and I guessed, though I could not hear, that Mercy was crying. I waited almost as eagerly as she for the boy’s step again, and the boy’s' voice in the hallway; but two weeks passed, and I knew that, stubborn young things that they were, they stood a good chance of spoiling the wonderful thing they held between them. Mercy crept in and out of the flat like a pale little ghost, and one day I spoke to her sister of it. “No, she doesn’t look at all well, Mr. Bonner,” her sister admitted, “but I don’t know what the matter is.” I stole a look at her out of the corner of my eye. The woman meant it! Was she blind? Well," the long and short of it is, that it got to be too much for me, and I put an end to it. One day when Mercedes had stolen out as usual, I wrote a note —in French, and in the boy’s unadorned, dependable handwriting, and tucked it behind their mail-box. It was just a sentence or two, but I ended it with the phrase that had ended Mercy’s note to him. I had an idea that it was a sort of pass-word of theirs, and I was right.

From the* window, I saw,, Mercy come in. There was a pause in the vestibule, then the heavy door opened and Mercy stumbled up the stairs. I watched her through the half-open door, and her young face was alight with joy almost too great to bear. A moment later the door opened and she flew out again. I knew Bert was to have his answer. The next day was warm, so warm that windows-were open everywhere; and so It comes that sitting in mine, I heard the end of the story. Oh, the sound of that young voice again! For me and one other, there was no sound like it on earth. Then there was a duet of voices. They were evidently sitting on the deep window-sill—his arm around her, I had no doubt. After a moment of silence, the episode of the note was reached. In the boy’s voice I heard incredulity, astonishment. Then Mercy’s voice came clear and convinced. “But, Bert, dearest, it was in your dear, funny writing, and in French. And oh, Bert, it ended —you know how!” Then I gathered that she got up and found It for him. There was a moment of blank silehce —then in a voice of awe and wonder: “By jove, it is! You’re right." "Let’s keep it always, dear,” Mercy said softly. “We can’t quarrel again after that.” Ah, well. Even meddlesome old men have their uses. (Copyright, 1913, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)

RECOVERED FROM JUNK HEAP

Enormous Bum Is the Aggregate That Is Baved, Ascribed to "Secondary Metals.” The value of “secondary exclusive of gold, silver, platinum, iron and aluminum—recovered In the United States in 1912, reached the enormous total of $77,395,843, compared with $52,585,390 in 1911, according to J. P. Dunlop of the United State geo logical survey, an increase of nearly $25,000,000, or almost 50 per cent “Secondary metals” are those recovered from scrap metal, sweepings, skimmings, dross, etc., and are so called to distinguish them from metals ■derived from ore, which are termed “primary metals.” The values given for the secondary metals are arbitrary and are based upon the approximate average value of the primary metals for the year. While junk dealers and collectors frequently pay low prices for small quantities of scrap metals, competition results in good prices for carefully assorted products in large quantities. After remelting or refining the metals are sold at only slightly lower prices than new metal. These secondary metals displace an equivalent quantity of primary metals and must be considered in any estimate of stocks available for consumption in any year.

Quite Simple.

Boston Five-Year. Old —Father, whas Is the exact meaning of the verse beginning, “Jack Sprat could eat no fat?” Father —In simple terms it is as follows: Jack Sprat could assimilate no adipose tissue. His wife, on the other hand, possessed an aversic# for the more muscular portions of epithelium. And so between them both, you see, they removed all the foreign substances from the surface of that utilitarian utensil com-monly-balled a platter. Does that make it clear, son?^. Boston Five-Year-Old —Perfectly, father. The lack of lucidity in these Mother Goose rhymes is amazingly apparent.

WHEN CLEANING HOUSE

SIMPLEST AND QUICKEST METHODS OF DOING THE WORK. Housewife of Experience, of Course* Has Her Own Manner of Doing Things, but These Hints May Be of Value. For those who have put oft their housecleaning from the .spring to the autumn the time of reckoning has finally arrived. Perhaps a few words as to the simplest and quickest way to get through this period of trial may be welcome to many housewives. If you own a house start at the top and work downward. If you are a flat dweller, begin in the room farthest away from the hall door, always leaving the kitchen until the last One direction applies to every room in the house. First take dbwn all hangings and draperies. The carpets, too, must are to be replaced by new, the old coverings immediately sent to /the laundry or cleaners. If not, they should be carried out of doors and given a thorough brushing and beating. Next, all pictures and ornaments should be removed from the walls and thoroughly dusted and cleaned. These should then be piled in a safe spot and covered from the dust. After this the floor should be well swept. When this is finished the wall should be swept off with a clean broom twice, then gone over with a duster. The floor should be brushed lightly to collect such dirt as may have fallen from the walls. Chairs which are stuffed should be thoroughly beaten with a bamboo bat, and then the woodwork on them polished. For the fine furniture, which may be spoiled by a polish of beeswax or turpentine, a good furniture cream should be used, but this should be'tried very carefully before using on fine woods. Also a perfectly dry silk cloth should be used. For dining-room furniture the oldfashioned mixture of turpentine and beeswax is better than anything else. For leather covered chairs this is much better and safer than any newfangled concoctions you may be persuaded to buy. If there ie a fireplace in the room this should be well cleaned and the hearth well enameled. Then scrub the floor thoroughly, using a strong carbolic soap and hot water. When the floor is perfectly dry. the clean carpet may be put down and the stretches of floor which surround it should be well polished with plenty of beeswax and turpentine.

All cushions should be beaten out of doors before being returned to their accustomed places. The pictures should now be rehung, the windows cleaned and fresh curtains put up. If the housewife will try one room at a time in this manner she will see that even the men In the T family will not complain, for they will not know that housecleaning is going on. - -

Blackberry Jam.

For blackberry Jam allow threequarters of a pound of sugar to a pound of fruit. Mix the sugar with the fruit and set it on the back of the stove. Let it stand there until the juice begins to show. Press the fruit occasionally with a spoon to start the juice. Then bring the mixture forward over the fire and let it cook for an hour, stirring it almost continually to keep It from burning. It should cook rather quickly. When very thick pour it into marmalade jars and let it stand for 24 hours before covering it with paraffine in the usual way.

Cheap Cake.

One cup of sugar, 2 tablespoons of butter creamed together, 1 egg, 1 cup milk, 2 teaspoons baking powder sifted In 1% cups bread flour. Flavor to suit. I use this for a foundation for several cakes. Use 2 tablespoons of cocoa, flavor with vanilla, frost with white frosting and you have a good dark cake; or put in a cup of shredded cocoanut and it makes a nice cake for a change.

Blueberry Shortcake.

Two cups flour, two teaspoons of baking powder, two tablespoons butter, two-thirds cup sugar. Work all these ingredients together. One egg and milk enough to make like biscuit dough. Roll out and put in a pan and bake about half hour. Delicious.

Suggestions for Ironing.

sprinkling clothes to use warm water instead of cold. Warm water covers a larger area than cold, and when ironing is started you will find the cloth evenly damp. In ÜBing cold water the dampness only occurs in spots.

Sweetening With Salt.

A cook recommends the addition of a very little salt when cooking very sour fruit such as cherries or cranberries. She says that only about one-half as much sugar will be required then as would otherwise be needed.

For Ink Stains.

The stains of typewriting can be removed from linen by soaking in turpentine for 24 hours —then pour boiling soda over the inked parts, rinse and dry.

When You Cook Cabbage.

The unpleasant odor which cabbage and cauliflower make while cooking can be avoided by dropping a couple of whole English walnuts into the kettle.

the ONLOOKER

HENRY HOWLAND

EVEEfMAN WHO ISN’T

I’ve never made a million through A sudden rise in stocks; No man has ever died and left To me a stack of rocks; I’ve Aever yet turned out a book That made a hit and brought Me such a fortune as the heirs To “David Harum” got. I’ve never chanced, somehow, to buy A gold mine for a song; No play of mine has ever caught The fancy of the throng; I*ve never had a chance to wed A lady with a wad; Few roses have been strewn along The paths that 1 have trod. I never have owned Texas land. And so the oil wells there Have never made and never can Make me a millionaire; But there Is one who thinks Fm grand, Who says If I could get A show I’d be the greatest man The world has seen as yet. Ah, well, she may be wrong; I tell Her that she is. that I , Am one of those foredoomed to be Forgotten when they die; ! But she Insists that I should dwell Upon the dazzling height, And in my heart of hearts I can’t Help thinking that she’s right.

Success.

“John D. Rockefeller says he owesbis success to the fact that be was never discharged by an employer. ‘When I was a bare-footed boy,’ ho said recently to some Cleveland young men, “I came to this city looking for a job. I found a little job and I kept that little job. That is the secret of my success. I have worked hard aH‘ my life, and I haye kept my job.”' “Yes. Queer how things work out, isn’t it? I know a man who has had the same little job for 40 years. He has worked hard ail his life. He started in at about S2O a month, but they have gradually raised him until now he’s getting $60.”

OPTIMISM.

The Day That Summer Died.

The day that summer died I strayed With her where maples cast their shade. And aa we sauntered side by side I gently spoke and she replied In tones that echoed through the glad*, j It seemed to me that she betrayed A petulance—that she displayed A temper rather sorely tried The day that summer died. “Ah. summer's dead," I said; the mald, By uncontrolled emotion swayed. In answer to the words that I’d Addressed to her so gently, cried; “I’m quite glad of it—let'er fade!” The day that summer died.

Her Preference.

“There is, you know,” said Mrs. Oldcastle, “a Spanish proverb which says, 'Buscar clnco pies al gato.”’ “Yes, I know,” her hostess replied. “Joslab likes them kind, but I’m oldfashioned and can’t help thinkin' mince Is the best of all of them yet*

There Were Tears.

‘ Did you ever run away when you were a boy?” “Once.” “And I suppose the tears flowed freely when you returned?" “Yes, I made the mistake of going back when father was at home.”

Just a Supposition.

"What do you suppose your mother would think If she knew I had kissed you?” “I suppose she would wonder If we had agreed upon a date for the wedding.” *

The Bright Side.

\ "How do you like being married to an old man?” her former chum asked. "Oh, it isn’t so bad. I can leave him in charge of a trained nurse moot eg the time.”

“Say, pa, whst’aan optimist?" “One of thee* fellows who comes out about this time of year and ' says —wo — haven’t had our Indian summer yet.”