In this age of prose, when men’s
hearts turn point-blank from blank verse to the business
of chaining two worlds by cable and of daring to fly
with birds; when scholars, ever busy with the dead,
are suffering crick in the neck from looking backward
to the good old days when Romance wore a tin helmet
on his head or lace in his sleeves in such
an age Simon Binswanger first beheld the high-flung
torch of Goddess Liberty from the fore of the steerage
deck of a wooden ship, his small body huddled in the
sag of calico skirt between his mother’s knees,
and the sky-line and clothes-lines of the lower East
Side dawning upon his uncomprehending eyes.
Some decades later, and with an endurance
stroke that far outclassed classic Leander’s,
Simon Binswanger had swum the great Hellespont that
surged between the Lower East Side and the Upper West
Side, and, trolling his family after, landed them
in one of those stucco-fronted, elevator-service apartment-houses
where home life is lived on the layer, and the sins
of the extension sole and the self-playing piano are
visited upon the neighbor below. Landed them four
stories high and dry in a strictly modern apartment
of three dark, square bedrooms, a square dining-room
ventilated by an airshaft, and a square pocket of a
kitchen that looked out upon a zigzag of fire-escape.
And last a square front-room-de-resistance, with a
bay of four windows overlooking a distant segment
of Hudson River, an imitation stucco mantelpiece, a
crystal chandelier, and an air of complete detachment
from its curtailed rear.
But even among the false creations
of exterior architects and interior decorators, home
can find a way. Despite the square dining-room
with the stag-and-tree wall-paper design above the
plate-rack and a gilded radiator that hissed loudest
at mealtime, when Simon Binswanger and his family
relaxed round their after-dinner table, the invisible
cricket on the visible hearth fell to whirring.
With the oldest gesture of the shod
age Mrs. Binswanger dived into her work-basket, withdrew
with a sock, inserted her five fingers into the foot,
and fell to scanning it this way and that with a furrow
between her eyes.
“Ray, go in and tell your sister
she should come out of her room and stop that crying
nonsense. I tell you it’s easier we should
all go to Europe, even if we have to swim across,
than every evening we should have spoilt for us.”
Ray Binswanger rose out of her shoulders,
her eyes dazed with print, then collapsed again to
the pages of her book.
“Let her cry, mamma.”
“It’s not so nice, Ray, you should treat
your sister like that.”
“Can I help it, mamma, that
all of a sudden she gets Europe on the brain?
You never heard me even holler for Arverne, much less
Europe, as long as the boats were running for Brighton,
did you, mom?”
“She thinks, Ray, in Europe
it’s a finer education for you both. She
ain’t all wrong the way she hates you should
run to Brighton with them little snips.”
“Just the same you never heard
me nag for trips. The going’s too good at
home. Did you, pop, ever hear me nag?”
“Ja, it’s a lot your papa
worries about what’s what! Look at him there
behind his paper, like it was a law he had to read
every word! Ray, go get me my glasses under the
clock and call in your sister. Them novels will
keep. Mind me when I talk, Ray!”
Miss Ray Binswanger rose reluctantly,
placing the book face downward on the blue-and-white
table coverlet. It was as if seventeen Indian
summers had laid their golden blush upon her.
Imperceptibly, too, the lanky, prankish years were
folding back like petals, revealing the first bloom
of her, a suddenly cleared complexion and eyes that
had newly learned to drop upon occasion.
“Honest, mamma, do you think
it would hurt Izzy to make a move once in a while?
He was the one made her cry, anyway, guying her about
spaghetti on the brain.”
“Sure I did. Wasn’t
she running down my profesh? She’s got to
go to Europe for the summer, because the traveling
salesmen she meets at home ain’t good enough
for her. Well, of all the nerve!”
“Just look at him, mamma, stretched
out on the sofa there like he was a king!”
Full flung and from a tufted leather
couch Isadore Binswanger turned on his pillow, flashing
his dark eyes and white teeth full upon her.
“Go chase yourself, Blackey!”
“Blackey! Let me just tell
you, Mr. Smarty, that alongside of you I’m so
blond I’m dizzy.”
“Come and give your big brother a French kiss,
Blackey.”
“Like fun I will!”
“Do what I say or I’ll ”
Mrs. Binswanger rapped her darning-ball with a thimbled
finger.
“Izzy, stop teasing your sister.”
“You just ask me to press your
white-flannel pants for you the next time you want
to play Palm Beach with yourself, and see if I do it
or not. You just ask me!”
He made a great feint of lunging after
her, and she dodged behind her mother’s rocking-chair,
tilting it sharply.
“Children!”
“Mamma, don’t you let him touch me!”
“You you little imp, you!”
“Children!”
“I tell you, ma, that kid’s getting too
fresh.”
“You spoil her, Izzy, more as any one.”
“It’s those yellow novels,
and that gang of drugstore snips you let her run with
will be her ruination. If she was my kid I bet
I’d have kept her in school another year.”
“You shut up, Izzy Binswanger,
and mind your own business. You never even went
as long as me.”
“With a boy it’s different.”
“You better lay pretty low,
Izzy Binswanger, or I can tell a few tales. I
guess I didn’t see you the night after you got
in from your last trip, in your white-flannel pants
I pressed, dancing on the Brighton boat with that
peroxide queen alrighty.”
This time his face darkened with the blood of anger.
“You little imp, I’ll ”
“Children! Stop it, do
you hear! Ray, go right this minute and call
Miriam and bring me my glasses. Izzy, do you think
it’s so nice that a grown man should tease his
little sister?”
“I’ll be glad when he goes out on his
Western trip next week.”
“Skidoo, you little imp!”
She tossed her head in high-spirited
distemper and flounced through the doorway. He
rose from his mound of pillows, jerking his daring
waistcoat into place, flinging each knee outward to
adjust the knifelike trouser creases, swept backward
a black, pomaded forelock and straightened an accurate
and vivid cravat.
“She’s getting too fresh,
I tell you, ma. If I catch her up round the White
Front drug-store with that fresh crowd of kids I’ll
slap her face right there before them.”
“Ach, at her age, Izzy,
Miriam was just the same way, and now look how fine
a boy has got to be before that girl will look at him.
Too fine, I say!”
“Where’s my hat, ma?
I laid it here on the sewing-machine. Gee! the
only way for a fellow to keep his hat round this joint
is to sit on it!”
A quick frown sprang between Mrs.
Binswanger’s eyes and she glanced at her husband,
hidden behind his barricade of newspaper. Her
brow knotted and her wide, uncorseted figure half
rose toward him.
“Izzy, one night can’t you stay at home
and ”
“I ain’t gone yet, am
I, ma? Don’t holler before you’re
hurt. There’s a fellow going to call for
me at eight and we’re going to a show a
good fellow for me to know, Irving Shapiro, city salesman
for the Empire Waist Company. I ain’t still
in bibs, ma, that I got to be bossed where I go nights.”
“Ach, Izzy, for why can’t
you stay home this evening? Stay home and you
and Miriam and your friend sing songs together, and
later I fix for you some sandwiches not,
Izzy? A young man like Irving Shapiro I bet likes
it if you stay home with him once. Nice it will
be for your sister, too eh, Izzy?”
Mrs. Binswanger’s face, slightly
sagging at the mouth from the ravages of two recently
extracted molars, broke into an invitational smile.
“Eh, Izzy?”
He found and withdrew his hat from
behind a newspaper-rack and cast a quick glance toward
the form of his father, whose nether half, ending
in a pair of carpet slippers dangling free from his
balbriggan heels, protruded from the barricade of
newspaper.
“That’s right, just get
the old man started on me, ma, too. When a fellow
travels six months out of the year in every two-by-four
burg in the Middle West, nagging like this is just
what he needs when he gets home.”
“You know, Izzy, I’m the last one to start
something.”
“Then don’t always ask
a fellow where he’s going, ma, and get pa started
too.”
“You know that not one thing
that goes on does papa hear when he reads his paper,
Izzy. Never one word do I say to him how I feel
when you go, only I I don’t like
you should run out nights so late, Izzy. Next
week again already you go out on your trip and ”
“Now, ma, just just
you begin if you want to make me sore.”
“I tell you, Izzy, I worry enough
that you should be on the road so much. And ain’t
it natural, Izzy, when you ain’t away I I
should like it that you stay by home a lot? Sit
down, anyway, awhile yet till the Shapiro boy comes.”
“Sure I will, ma.”
“If I take a trip away from
you this summer I worry, Izzy, and if I stay home
I worry. Anyway I fix it I worry.”
“Now, ma.”
“Only sometimes I feel if your
papa feels like he wants to spend the money Well,
anything is better as that girl should feel so bad
that we don’t take her to Europe.”
He jingled a handful of loose coins
from his pocket to his palm. “Cheer up,
ma; if the old man will raise my salary I’ll
blow you to a wheelbarrow trip through Europe myself.”
“’Sh-h-h-h, Izzy!
Here comes Miriam. I don’t want you should
tease her one more word to make her mad. You
hear?”
In the frame of the doorway, quiescent
as an odalisque and with the golden tinge of a sunflower
lighting her darkness, Miriam Binswanger held the
picture for a moment, her brother greeting her with
bow and banter.
“Well, little red-eyes!”
“Izzy, what did I just tell you!”
His sister flashed him a dark glance,
reflexly her hand darting upward to her face.
“You!”
“Now, now, children! Why
don’t you and Miriam go in the parlor, Izzy,
and sing songs?”
“What you all so cooped up in
here for, mamma? Open the window, Ray; it’s
as hot as summer outside.”
“Say, who was your maid this time last year,
Miriam?”
“Mamma, you going to let her talk that way to
me?”
“Ray, will it hurt you to put up the window
like your sister asks?”
“Well, I’m doing it, ain’t I?”
“Now, Miriam, you and Izzy go
in the parlor and sing for mamma a little.”
Miriam’s small teeth met in
a small click, her voice lay under careful control
and as if each nerve was twanging like a plucked violin
string.
“Please, mamma, please! I just can’t
sing to-night!”
She was like a Jacque rose, dark and
swaying, her little bosom beneath the sheer blouse
rising higher than its wont.
“Please, mamma!”
“Ach, now, Miriam!”
“Where’s those steamship
pamphlets, mamma, I left laying here on the table?”
“Right here where you left them, Miriam.”
Mr. Isadore Binswanger executed a
two-stride dash for the couch, plunging into a nest
of pillows and piling them high about his head and
ears.
“Go-öd night! The
subject of Europe is again on the table for the seventh
evening this week. Nix for mine! Good night!
Good night!” And he fell to burrowing his head
deeper among the pillows.
“You don’t need to listen,
Izzy Binswanger. I wasn’t talking to you,
anyways.”
“No, to your mother you was
talking always to me. I got to hear
it.”
A sudden vibration darted through
Mrs. Binswanger’s body, straightening it.
“Always me! I tell you, Simon, with your
family you ’ain’t got no troubles.
I got ’em all. How he sits there behind
his newspaper just like a boarder and not in the family!
I tell you more as once in my life I have wished there
was never a newspaper printed. Right under his
nose he sits with one glued every evening.”
“Na, na, old lady!”
“That sweet talk don’t
make no neverminds with me. ‘Na, na,’
he says. I tell you even when my children was
babies how they could cry every night right under
his nose and never a hand would that man raise to help
me. I tell you my husband’s a grand help
to me. ‘Such a grand husband,’ the
ladies always say to me I got. I wish they should
know what I know!”
Mr. Binswanger tossed aside his newspaper
and raised his spectacles to his horseshoe expanse
of bald head. His face radiated into a smile
that brought out the whole chirography of fine lines,
and his eyes disappeared in laughter like two raisins
poked into dough.
“Na, na, old lady,
na, na!” He made to pinch her cheek
where it bagged toward a soft scallop of double chin,
but she withdrew querulously.
“I tell you what I been through
this winter, with Izzy out in a Middle West territory
where only once in four months I can see him, and my
Ray and her going-ons with them little snips, and
now Miriam with her Europe on the brain. I tell
you that if anybody in this family needs Europe it’s
me for my health, better as Miriam for her singing
and her style. Such nagging I have got ringing
in my ears about it I think it’s easier to go
as to stay home with long faces.”
Erect on the edge of her chair Miriam
inclined toward her parent. “That’s
just what I been saying, mamma; all four of us need
it. Not only me and Ray, but ”
“Leave me out, missy!”
“Not only us two for our education,
mamma, but a trip like that can make you and papa
ten years younger. Read what the booklet says.
It ”
“I’m an old woman and
I don’t want I should try to look young like
on the streets here up-town you can see the women.
What comes natural to me like gray hairs I don’t
got to try to hide.”
“Hurrah for ma! ‘Down
with the peroxide and the straight fronts,’ she
says.”
“Izzy, that ain’t so nice
neither to talk such things before your sisters.”
“Don’t listen to him,
mamma. Just let me ask you, mamma, just let me
ask you, papa papa, listen: did you
ever in your life have a real vacation? What
were those two weeks in Arverne for you last summer
compared to on board a ship? You ”
“That’s what I need yet shipboard!
I tell you I’m an old man and I’m glad
that I got a home where I can take off my shoes and
sit in comfort with my rheumatism.”
“Hannah Levin’s father
limped ten times worse than you, papa. Didn’t
he, mamma? And since he took Hannah over last
summer not one stroke has he had since. And she Well,
you see what she did for herself.”
Mrs. Binswanger paused in her stitch.
“That’s so, Simon; Hannah Levin should
grab for herself a man like Albert Hamburger.
She should fall into the human-hair Hamburger family,
a stick like her! At fish-market when he lived
down-town each Friday morning I used to meet old man
Levin, and I should say his knees were worse as yours,
papa.”
“When my daughter marries a
Albert Hamburger, then maybe too we can afford to
take a trip to Europe.”
Miss Binswanger raised her eyes, great
dark pools glozed over with tears. “All
right then, I’ll huck at home. But let me
tell you, papa, since you come right out and mention
it, that’s where she met Albert Hamburger, if
anybody should ask you, right on board the ship.
Those kind don’t lie round Arverne with that
cheap crowd of week-end salesmen.”
“There she goes on my profesh again!”
“That’s where she met
him, since you talk about such things, papa, right
on the steamer.”
“So!” Mrs. Binswanger
let fall idle hands into her lap. “So!”
“Sure. Didn’t you
know that, mamma? She was going over for just
ten weeks with her mother and father to take a few
singing-lessons when they got to Paris, just like
I want to, and right on the ship going over she met
him and they got engaged.”
“So!”
“Yes, mamma.”
Mr. Binswanger fell into the attitude
of reading again, knees crossed and one carpet slipper
dangling. “I know plenty girls as get engaged
on dry land, Carrie; just get such ideas that they
don’t out of your head.”
“I don’t say, Simon, I
don’t give you right, but after a winter like
I been through I feel like maybe it’s better
to go as to stay.”
“That’s right, ma, loosen up and she’ll
get you yet.”
“It ain’t nice, Izzy,
you should use such talk to your mother. I tell
you it ain’t so nice a son should tell his mother
she should loosen up.”
“I only meant, ma ”
“That’s just how I feel,
Simon, with the summer coming on I can’t stand
no more long faces. Last year it was Arverne till
a cottage we had to take. Always in April already
my troubles for the summer begin. One year Miriam
wants Arverne and Ray wants we should go to the mountains
where the Schimm girls go. This year, since she
got in with them Lillianthal girls, Miriam has to
have Europe, and Ray wants to stay home so with snips
like Louie Ruah she can run with. I tell you when
you got daughters you don’t know where ”
“Give ’em both a brain test, ma.”
“Stop teasing your sister, Izzy.
I always say with girls you got trouble from the start
and with boys it ain’t no better. Between
Arverne and ”
“Arverne! None of the swell
crowd goes there any more, mamma.”
“Swell! Let me tell you,
Miriam, your papa and me never had time to be swell
when we was young. I remember the time when we
couldn’t afford a trip to Coney Island, much
less four weeks a cottage at Arverne-next-to-the-sea.
Ain’t it, papa? I wish the word ‘swell’
I had never heard. My son Isadore kicks to-night
at supper because at hotels on the road he gets fresh
napkins with every meal. Now all of a sudden
my daughter gets such big notions in her head that
nothing won’t do for her but Europe for a summer
trip. I tell you, Simon, I don’t wish a
dog to go through what I got to.”
Mr. Binswanger let fall his newspaper to his knee.
“Na, na, mamma, for
what you get excited? Ain’t talk cheap enough
for you yet? Why shouldn’t you let the
children talk?”
Miss Binswanger inclined to her father’s
knee, her throat arched and flexed. “Papa
dear, it’s a cheap trip. For what four weeks
in a cottage at Arverne-by-the-sea would cost the
four of us could take one of those tourists’
trips through Europe. The Lillianthals, papa,
for four hundred and fifty dollars apiece landed in
Italy and went straight through to ”
“The Lillianthals, Lillianthals,”
mimicked Mrs. Binswanger, sliding her darning-egg
down the length of a silken stocking. “I
wish that name we had never heard. All of a sudden
now education like those girls you think you got to
have, music and ”
“Oh, mamma, honest, you just
don’t care how dumb us girls are. Look at
Ray and me, we haven’t even got a common education
like ”
“You can’t say, Miriam
Binswanger, that me or your papa ever held one of
our children back out of school. If they didn’t
want to go we couldn’t ”
“Oh, mamma, I I don’t
mean just school. How do you think I feel when
all the girls begin to talk about Europe and all, and
I got to sit back at sewing-club like a stick?”
“Ain’t it awful, Mabel!”
“Izzy!”
“Why do you think a fellow like
Sol Blumenthal is all the time after Lilly Lillianthal
and Sophie Litz and those girls? He has been over
seventeen times, buying silks, and those girls don’t
have to sit back like sticks when he talks about the
shows in Paris and all.”
“I know girls, Miriam, what
got as fine husbands as Sol Blumenthal and didn’t
need to run to Europe for them.”
“I never said that, did I, mamma?
Only it’s a help to girls nowadays if if
they’ve been to places and know a thing or two.”
“If a girl can cook a little and ”
“Look there at Ray, nothing
in her head but that novel she’s reading, and
little snips that’ll treat her to a soda-water
if she hangs round the White Front long enough, and
ride her down to Brighton on one of those dirty excursion
boats if she ”
“You shut up, Miriam Binswanger,
and mind your own business!”
“You let her talk to me that way, mamma?”
“Go to it, sis.”
“You let her talk that way to
me and Izzy eggs her on! No wonder she’s
fresh, the way everybody round here lets her do what
she wants, papa worst of all!”
Ray danced to her feet, tossing her
hair backward in maenadic waves, her hands outflung,
her voice a taunt and a singsong. “I know!
I know! You’re sore because you’re
four years older and you’re afraid I’ll
get engaged first. Engaged first! I know!
I know!”
“Go to it, sis!”
“Sure, I got a Brighton date
every Saturday night this summer, missy, and with
a slick little fellow that can take his father’s
car out every Tuesday night without asking. Eddie
Sollinger! I guess you call him a snip, too,
because he’s a city salesman. I know!
I know! Ha! I should worry that the Lillianthals
are going to Europe! I know! I know!”
She pirouetted to her father’s side of the table.
“Give me a dollar, pa?”
Mrs. Binswanger held out a remonstrating
hand. “Ach, Ray, you mustn’t ”
“It ain’t even seven yet.
Have a heart, ma! Gee! can’t I walk up to
the corner with Bella Mosher for a soda? Do I
have to stick round this fuss nest? I’ll
be back in a half-hour, ma. Please?”
“Don’t let her go, ma.”
“You shut up, Izzy!”
“Ach, Ray, I ”
“Give me the dollar, pa, for
voting against Europe. Don’t let her hypnotize
you like she always does. Down with Europe!
I say. We should cross the ocean and get our
feet wet, eh, pa?”
He waggled a pinch of her flushed
cheek between his thumb and forefinger and dived into
his pocket.
“Baby-la, you!” he said,
crossing her palm; and she was out and past him, imprinting
a kiss on the crest of the bald horseshoe and tossing
a glance as quick as Pierrette’s over one shoulder.
On the echo of the slamming door,
her eyes shining with conviction and her face suddenly
old with prophecy, Miriam turned upon her mother.
“You see, mamma, you see!
Seventeen, and nothing in her head but Brighton Beach
and soda-water fountains and joy-riding. Just
you watch; some day she’ll meet up with some
dinky fakir or ribbon clerk at one of those places,
and the first thing you know for a son-in-law you’ll
have a crook.”
“Miriam!”
“Yes, you will! Those are
the only chances a girl gets if she’s not in
the swim.”
“Listen to her, ma, and then
you blame me for not bringing any of the fellows round
here for her to meet. You don’t catch me
doing it, the way she thinks she’s better than
they are and gives them the high hand. Not muchy!”
“I should worry for the kind you bring, Izzy.”
“As nice boys Izzy has brought
home, Miriam, as ever in my life I would want to meet.”
“Yes, but you see for yourself
the way the society fellows, like Sol Blumenthal and
Laz Herzog, hang round the Lillianthal girls.
I always got to take a back seat, and maybe you think
I don’t know it.”
“I never heard that on ships young men was so
plentiful.”
“She wants to land an Italian
count and she’ll just about land a barber.”
Mr. Binswanger peered suddenly over
the rim of his paper. “A no-count yet is
what we need in the family. Get right away such
ideas out your head. All my life I ’ain’t
worked so hard to spend my money on the old country.
In America I made it and in America I spend it.
Now just stop it, right away, too.”
“Go to it, pa!”
Suddenly Miss Binswanger let fall
her head into her cupped hands. Tears trickled
through. “I I just wish that
I I hadn’t been born! Why did
you move up-town, then, where everybody does things,
if if ”
Her father’s reply came in a
sudden avalanche. “For why? Because
then, just like now, you nagged me. You can take
it from me, just so happy as now was me and mamma
down by Rivington Street. I’m a plain man
and with no time for nonsense. I tell you the
shirtwaist business ’ain’t been so good
that ”
“You you can’t
fool me with that poor talk, papa. Everybody knows
you get a bigger business each year. You can’t
fool me that way.”
Tears burst and flowed over her words,
and her head burrowed deeper. Across her prostrate
form Simon Binswanger nodded to his wife in rising
perplexity.
“Fine come-off, eh, Carrie?”
“Miriam, ach, Miriam, come here to mamma.”
“Aw, take her, pa, if she’s
so crazy to go. It’ll be slack time between
now and when I get back from my territory. Max
has got pretty good run of the office these days.
Take her across, pa, and get it out of her system.
Quit your crying, kid.”
Mr. Binswanger waggled a crooked finger
in close proximity to his son’s face. “Du!
Du mit a big mouth! Is it because you
sell for the house such big bills I can afford to
run me all over Europe! A few more accounts like
Einstein from Cleveland you can sell for me, and then
we can go bankrupt easier as to Europe. Du
mit a big mouth!”
“Pa, ain’t you ever going
to get that out of your system? My first bad
account and ”
“You’m a dude! That’s
all I know, you’m a dude! Right on my back
now I got on your old shirts and dressed like a king
I feel.”
“I’m done, pa! I’m done!”
“Ach, Miriam, don’t
cry so. Here, look up at mamma. Maybe, Miriam,
if you ask your papa once more he will ”
“I tell you, no. What Mark
Lillianthal does and what my son can say so easy makes
nothing with me. I’m glad as I got a home
to stay in.”
Above her daughter’s bowed head
Mrs. Binswanger regarded her husband through watery
eyes. “She ain’t so wrong, Simon.
I tell you I got the first time to hear you come out
and say to your family, ’Well, this year we
do something big.’ The bigger you get in
business the littler on the outside you get, Simon.
Always you been the last to do things.”
“And, papa, everybody ”
“Everybody makes no difference
with me. I don’t work for the steamship
company. For two thousand dollars what such a
trip costs I can do better as Europe.”
“I I just wish I hadn’t ever
been born.”
A sudden tear found its way down Mrs.
Binswanger’s billowy cheek. “You
hear, Simon, your own daughter has to wish she had
never got born.”
She drew her daughter upward to her
wide bosom, and through the loose basque percolated
the warm tears.
“’Sh-h-h-h, Miriam, don’t you cry.”
“Ach, now, Carrie ”
“I tell you, Simon, I ’ain’t
been a wife that has made such demands on you, but
I guess you think it’s a comfort that a mother
should hear that in society her daughter has to take
a back seat.”
“When she ’ain’t
got a front seat she should take a second seat.
I don’t need no seat. I know worse young
men as Sollie Spitz and Eddie Greenbaum what comes
here to see her.”
“Just the same you you
said to me the other night, papa, that I never seem
to meet young men like Adolph Gans, fellows who are
in business for themselves.”
“Ja, but I ”
“Well, where do you think Elsa Bergenthal met
Adolph, but on the ship?”
“You hear, Simon: Moe Bergenthal,
who sells shirtwaists for you right this minute, can
afford to send his daughter to Europe.”
“Ja, I guess that’s why
he sells shirtwaists for me instead of for himself.”
“See, papa, she ”
“That’s right, get him cornered, ma!
Go to it, Miriam!”
“Du, du good-for-nothings dude, du!”
“Be a sport, pa!”
“Ach, Simon ”
“Ach, you women make me
sick! In the old country, I tell you, I got no
business. All the Eyetalians what I want to see
I can see down on Cherry Street for less
as two thousand dollar too.”
“Why why, that’s
no way to learn about ’em, papa. You just
ought to see me take a back seat when Lilly Lillianthal
gets out her post-cards and begins telling about the
real ones.”
Mrs. Binswanger took on a private
tone, peering close into her husband’s face.
“You hear that, Simon? Mark Lillianthal,
what failed regular like clockwork before he moved
up-town, his daughter can make our Miriam feel small.
You hear that, Simon?”
His daughter’s arms were soft
about his neck, tight, tighter. “Papa,
please! For a couple of thousand we can take that
beau-tiful trip I showed you in the booklet.
Card-rooms on the steamer, papa. Hannah told
me all summer her father played pinochle in Germany,
father, right outdoors where they drink beer and eat
rye-bread sandwiches all day. In Germany we can
even stop at Dusseldorf where you were born, papa just
think, papa, where you were born! In Italy we
can make Ray look at the pictures and statues, and
all day you can sit outdoors and and play
cards, papa. Just think, papa, by the time you
have to buy us swell clothes for Arverne I tell you
it will cost you more. All Lilly Lillianthal
needed for Europe, mamma, was a new blue suit.”
“Go way go way with
such nonsense, I tell you!” “And how you
and papa can rest up, mamma.” “She’s
right, Simon; such a trip won’t hurt us.
I tell you we don’t get younger each day.”
He regarded his wife with eyes rolled
backward. “That’s what I need yet,
Carrie, all of a sudden you take sides away from me.
Always round your little finger your children could
always wind themselves.”
“Na, Simon, when I see a thing
I see it. With Izzy out on his trip these next
two months it won’t hurt us. So crazy for
Europe you know I ain’t, but when you got children
you got to make sacrifice for them.”
“I ”
“For ten weeks, Simon, you can stand it, and
me too.”
“I ”
“For ten weeks, Simon, if we
go on that boat she wants that sails away on June
twentieth it’s a fine boat, she says.”
“June twentieth I don’t
go. July twentieth I got to be back when my men
go out on the road ”
“Then shoot ’em over this month, pa.
Max can ”
“There’s a boat two weeks
from to-day, pa, see here in the booklet, the same
boat, the Roumania, only on this month’s
sailing. We can get ready easy, papa, we oh,
we can get ready easy.”
“Ach, Miriam, in two weeks
how can we get together our things for a trip like
that?”
“Easy, mamma, I tell you I I’ll
do all the shopping and packing and everything.”
“’Sh-h-h-h, I ’ain’t
promised yet. I tell you if anybody would tell
me two days ago to Europe I got to go this month,
right away I wouldn’t have believed ’em!”
“Ach, Simon, you think
yet it’s a pleasure for me? You think for
me it’s a pleasure to shut up my flat and leave
it for two months? You think it’s easy
to leave Izzy, even when he’s ’way out
West on his trip? You think it’s easy to
leave that boy with the whole ocean between?”
“Aw, ma, cut the comedy!”
“Ten times, Simon, I rather stay right here
in my flat, but ”
“Then right away on the whole thing I put down
my foot.”
“Papa!”
“No, no, Simon, I want we should
go. Girls nowadays, Simon, got to be smart not
in the kitchen, but in the head.”
“Be a sport, pa.”
“It’s enough I got a son what’s
a sport.”
“Only a little over two months,
papa. Two weeks from to-day we can get a booking.
To-morrow I’ll go down to the steamship offices
and fix it all up; I know all about it, papa; there
isn’t a booklet I haven’t read.”
“Na, na, I ”
“Simon, in all your life not
one thing have you refused me. In all my life,
Simon, have I made on you one demand? Answer me,
Simon, eh? Answer your wife.” She
placed her thimbled hand across his knee, peering
through dim eyes up into his face. “Eh,
Simon, in thirty years?”
“Carrie-sha! Carrie-sha!”
He smiled at her through eyes dimmer still, then rose,
waggling the bent forefinger. “But not one
day over ten weeks, so help me!”
“Papa!”
With a cry that broke on its highest
note Miss Binswanger sprang to her feet, her arms
clasping about her father’s neck.
“Oh, papa! Papa! Mamma!”
“’Sh-h-h-h! the door-bell!
Go to the door, Izzy; I guess maybe that’s Ray
back or your friend. Ach, such excitement!
Already I feel like we’re on the boat.”
“Oh, mamma, mamma!” Her
words came too rapidly for coherence and her heart
would dance against her breast. “I I’m
just as happy!” Kissing her mother once on each
eye, she danced across to her brother, tagging him
playfully. “Lazy! I’ll go to
the door. Lazy! Lazy! Tra-la-la,
tra-la-la!” and danced to the
door, flinging it wide.
Enter Mr. Irving Shapiro, his soft
campus hat pressed against his striped waistcoat in
a slight bow, and a row of even teeth flashed beneath
a neat hedge of mustache.
“Mr. Izzy Binswanger live here?”
“Hello, Irv! That you? Come in!”
She dropped a courtesy. “That
sounds like he lives here, don’t it? That’s
him calling.”
And because her new exuberance sent
the blood fizzing through her veins with the bite
and sparkle of Vichy, a smile danced across her face,
now in her eyes, now quick upon her lips.
“Come right in the dining-room, Mr. Mr. ”
“Shapiro.”
“ Shapiro; he’s
expecting you.” She drew back the portieres,
quirking her head as he passed through. Isadore
Binswanger rose from his couch, pressing his friend’s
hand and passing him round the little circle.
“Pa, meet Irving Shapiro, city
man for the Empire Waist Company. Irv, meet my
father and mother and my sister.”
A round of handshaking.
“We’re as excited as a
barnyard round here, Irv; the governor and the family
just decided to light out for Europe for two months.”
“Europe!”
“Ja, my children they drag a old man like me
where they want.”
Mrs. Binswanger leaned forward smiling
in her chair. “You see, we want papa should
have a good rest, Mr. Shapiro. You know yourself
I guess shirtwaists ain’t no easy business.
We don’t know yet if we can get berths on the
twentieth this month, but ”
“State-rooms, mamma.”
“State-rooms, then. What’s that boat
we sail on, Miriam?”
“Roumania, mamma.”
Mr. Shapiro sat suddenly forward in
his chair, his eager face thrust forward. “Say,
I’m your man!”
“You!”
“Before you get your reservations
let me steer you. I got a cousin works down at
the White Flag offices Harry Mansbach.
He’ll fix you up if there ain’t a room
left on the boat. He’s the greatest little
fixer you ever seen.”
“Ach, Mr. Shapiro, how
grand! To-morrow, Miriam, maybe when you get the
berths ”
“State-rooms, mamma.”
“State-rooms, maybe Mr. Shapiro will will
go mit.”
“Aw, mamma, he ”
“Will I! Well, I guess!”
Across the table their eyes met and held.
Even into the granite canon of lower
Broadway spring can find a way. In the fifty-first
story of the latest triumph in skyscraping a six-dollar-a-week
stenographer filled her drinking-tumbler with water
and placed it, with two pansies floating atop, beside
her typewriting machine. In Wall Street an apple-woman
with the most ancient face in the world leaned out
of her doorway with a new offering, forced but firm
strawberries that caught a backward glance from the
passing tide of finders and keepers, losers and weepers.
Two sparrows hopped in and out among the stone gargoyles
of a municipal building. A dray-driver cursed
at the snarl of traffic and flecked the first sweat
from his horse’s flanks. A gaily striped
awning drooped across the front of the White Flag
steamship offices, and out from its entrance, spring
in her face, emerged Miss Miriam Binswanger; at her
shoulder Irving Shapiro attended.
“Honest, Mr. Shapiro, I I
just don’t know what I would have done except
for you.”
“I told you Harry Mansbach would fix you up.”
She clasped her wrist-bag carefully
over the bulk of a thick envelope and turned her shining
face full upon him.
“On deck A, too, right with the best!”
He steered her by a light pressure
of her arm into the up-town flux of the sidewalk.
“If I was a right smart kind of a fellow I never
would have helped you to get those cabins.”
“Oh, Mr. Shapiro!”
“But that’s me every time, always working
against myself.”
“Well, of all the nerve!”
And her voice would belie that she knew his delicate
portent.
“If not for me, maybe you couldn’t
have gotten those reservations and you would have
to stay at home. That’s where I would come
in, see?”
“Well, of all things!”
“But that’s me every time.
Meet a girl one day, take a fancy to her, and off
she sails for Europe the next.”
“Honest, Mr. Shapiro, you’re
just the limit!” She would have no more hold
of his arm, but at the next Subway hood paused in the
act of descending and held out her hand. “I’m
just so much obliged, Mr. Shapiro.”
He removed his hat, standing there
holding it in the crook of his arm, the bright sunlight
on his wavy hair. “Aw, now, Miss Binswanger,
is this the way to leave a fellow?”
“Sure, it is! Anyways, don’t you
have to go to work?”
“I should let my work interfere
with my pleasure! Anyway, that’s the beauty
of my line I work when I please, not when
my boss pleases.”
“I got to go shopping and straight
home, Mr. Shapiro. Just think, two weeks from
yesterday we sail, and we got enough sewing and packing
to be done at our house to keep a whole regiment busy.”
He withdrew her from the tangle of
pedestrians and into the entrance of a corner candy-shop.
“Aw, now, what’s your hurry?” he
insisted, regarding her with smiling, invitational
eyes.
“Well, of all the nerve!”
She would not meet his gaze, and swung her little
leather wrist-bag back and forward by its strap.
“I dare you to get on the Elevated
with me and ride out with me to Bronx Park for a sniff
of the country.”
“I should say not! I got
to go buy a steamer-trunk and a whole list of things
mamma gave me and then hurry home and help. Maybe maybe
some other day.”
“Aw, have a heart, Miss Miriam!
To-morrow I’ve got to go over to Newark to sell
a bill of goods. Maybe some other day will never
come. Feel how grand it is out. Just half
a day. Come!”
She was full of small emphasis and
with no yielding note in her voice. “No,
no, I can’t go.”
“Just a little while, Miss Miriam.
All those things will keep until to-morrow. I
can get you a steamer-trunk wholesale, anyway.
Look, it’s nearly two o’clock already!
Come on and be game! Think of it out
in the park a day like this! Grass growing, birds
singing, and the zoo and all. Aw, be game, Miss
Miriam!”
“If I thought Ray would help
mamma; but she’s got a grouch on and ”
“Sure she will! Gee! what’s
the fun meeting a girl you think you’re going
to like if she won’t do one little thing for
a fellow! You bet it ain’t every girl I’d
beg like this. Whoops, I could just rip things
open to-day!” It was as if he felt his life
in every limb. “Come on, Miss Miriam, be
a sport! Come on!”
“I I oughtn’t to.”
“That’s what makes it all the more fun.”
Her eyes were so dark, so like pools!
They met his with a smile clear through to their depths.
“Well, maybe, but but just for a little
while.”
“Just a little while.”
“I I oughtn’t.”
“You ought.”
“Well, just this once.”
“Sure, just this once.” He linked
his arm in hers.
“I I ”
“Gee!” he said, “you’re a
girl after my own heart!”
On the Elevated train the windows
were lowered to the first inrush of spring, and when
they left the city behind them came the first green
smells of open field and bursting bud.
“Now are you sorry you came, little Miss Miriam?”
She bared her head to the rush of
breeze and he held her hat on his lap. “Well,
I should say not!”
“No crowds, just everything to ourselves.”
“M-m-m-m! Smells like lilacs.”
“We’ll pick some.”
“I I ought to be home.”
“Forget it!”
“Now, Mr. Shap-iro!” But
her eyes continued to laugh and the straight line
of her mouth would quiver.
“Some eyes you’ve got,
girlie! Some great big eyes! They nearly
bowled me over when you opened the door for me last
night. Let me see your eyes what color
are they, anyway?”
“Green.”
They laughed without rhyme and without
reason, and as if their hearts were distilling joy.
Then for a time they rode without speech and with
only the wind in their ears, and he watched the tendrils
of her hair blowing this way and that.
“Just think,” she said,
finally, “we land in Naples just four weeks from
to-day!”
“Hope the boat don’t sail.”
“You don’t.”
“Do!”
“If you aren’t just the limit!”
“What’ll I be doing while
you’re gallivanting round the country with some
Italian count?”
“I should worry.”
“I better put a bee in Izzy’s
ear, and maybe he’ll put another in your father’s,
and the old gentleman will change his mind and won’t
go.”
“Yes he will not!
When papa promises he sticks.”
“Well, you don’t know
the nervy things I can do if I want. Nerve is
my middle name.”
“You sure are some nervy.”
“‘Cheer up!’ I always
say to myself when a firm closes the front door on
me: ‘Cheer up; there’s always the
back door and the fire-escape left.’ That’s
how I made my rep in shirtwaists on nerve.”
He inclined to her slightly across the car-seat.
“You wouldn’t close the front door on me,
would you, Miss Miriam?”
“Look, we get off here!”
“Would you?”
“N-no, silly.”
Within the park new grass was soft
as plush under their feet, and once away from the
winding asphalt of the main driveway the bosky heart
of a dell closed them in, and the green was suddenly
dappled with shadow. Here and there in the cool,
damp spots violets lifted their heads and pale wood-anémones,
spring’s firstlings. They sat on a rock
spread first with newspaper. Over their heads
birds twitted.
“Somehow, here so far away and
all I I just can’t get it in my head
that I’m really going.”
“I can’t, neither.”
“Naples just think!”
“Ain’t it funny, Miss
Miriam, but with some girls when you meet them it’s
just like you had known them for always, and then again
with others somehow a fellow never gets anywheres.”
“That’s the way with me. I take a
fancy to a person or I don’t.”
“That’s me every time.
Once let me get to liking a person, and good night!”
“Me, too.”
“Now take you, Miss Miriam.
From the very minute last night when you opened that
door for me, with your cheeks so pink and your eyes
so big and bright, something just went well,
something just went sort of lickety-clap inside of
me. You seen for yourself how I wanted to back
out of going to the show with Izz?”
“Yes.”
“It it ain’t many girls I’d
want to stay home from a show for.”
“Say, just listen to the birds.
If I could trill like that I wouldn’t have to
take any lessons in Paris.”
“You sing, Miss Miriam?”
“Oh, a little.”
“Gee! you are a girl after my
own heart! There’s nothing gets me like
a little girl with a voice.”
“My teacher says I’m a dramatic soprano.”
“When you going to sing for me, eh?”
“I’ll sing for you some time alrighty.”
“Soon?”
“Yes.”
“How soon?”
“Maybe after after I’ve had
some lessons in Paris.”
He was suddenly grave. “Aw,
there you go on that old trip again! Gee!
I wish I could grab that bag out of your hand and
throw it with tickets and all in the lake!”
“You know with me it’s
right funny too. The minute I get something I
want, then I don’t want it any more. Before
papa said yes I was so crazy to go, and now that I
got the tickets bought I’m not so anxious at
all.”
“Then don’t go, Miss Miriam.”
She withdrew her hand and danced to
her feet, her incertitude vanishing like a candle
flame blown out. “Look over there, will
you a redbird!”
“If it ain’t!” and
he followed her quickly, high-stepping between violet
patches.
“Honest, it’s hard to walk, the violets
are so thick.”
“Here, let me pick you a bunch
of them to take home, Miss Miriam. Say, ain’t
they beauties! Look, great big purple ones, and
black and soft-looking toward the middle just like
your eyes. Look what beauties they’ll
keep a long time when you get home, if you wrap them
in wet tissue-paper.”
They fell to plucking, now here, now there.
The sun had got low when they retraced
their steps to the train, and the chill of evening
long since had set in.
“You you ought to told me it was
so late.”
“I didn’t know it myself, Miss Miriam.”
“Let’s hurry. Mamma won’t know
where how ”
“We’ll make it back in thirty minutes.”
“Let’s run for that train.”
“Give me your hand.”
They were off and against the wind,
their faces thrust forward and upward. Homeward
in the coach they were strangely silent, this time
his hat in her lap. At the entrance to her apartment-house
he left her with reiterated farewells.
“Then I can come to-morrow night, Miss Miriam?”
“Y-yes.” And she
stepped into the elevator. He waved through the
trellis-work, as she moved upward, brandishing his
hat. She answered with a flourish of her bunch
of violets.
“Good-by!”
At the threshold her mother met her,
querulous and in the midst of adjusting summer covers
to furniture.
“How late! I hope, Miriam,
right away you had the steamer-trunk sent up.
Good berths good state-rooms you got?
What you got in that paper, that aloes root I told
you to get against seasickness? Gimme and right
away I boil it.”
“No, no, don’t touch them!
They they’re violets. Let me
put them in water with wet tissue-paper over them.”
To the early clattering of that faithful
chariot of daybreak, the milk-wagon, and with the
April dawn quivering and flushing over the roofs of
houses, Mrs. Binswanger rose from her restless couch
and into a black flannelette wrapper.
“Simon, wake up! How a
man can sleep like that the day what he starts for
Europe!”
To her husband’s continued and
stentorian evidences of sleep she tiptoed to the adjoining
bedroom, slippered feet sloughing as she walked.
“Girls!”
Only their light breathing answered
her. Atop the bed-coverlet her younger daughter’s
hand lay upturned, the fingers curling toward the
palm.
“Ray! Miriam!”
Miriam stirred and burrowed deeper
into her pillow, her hair darkly spread against the
white in a luxury of confusion.
“Girls!”
“What, mamma?”
“Five o’clock, Miriam,
and we ain’t got the trunks strapped yet, or
that seasick medicine from Mrs. Berkovitz.”
“For Heaven’s sake, mamma,
the boat don’t sail till three o’clock
this afternoon! There’s plenty time.
Go back to bed awhile, mamma.”
“When such a trip I got before
me as twelve days on water, I don’t lay me in
bed until the last minute. Ray, get up and help
mamma. In a minute the milkman comes, and I want
you should tell him we don’t take no more for
ten weeks. Get up, Ray, and help mamma see that
all the windows is locked tight.”
“M-m-m-m.”
“Miriam, get up! I want
you should throw this quilt from your bed over the
brass table in the parlor so it don’t get rust.
Miriam, didn’t you say yourself last night you
must get up early? Always only at night my children
got mouths about how early they get up.”
From the soft mound of her couch Miriam
rose to the dawn with the beautiful gesture of tossing
backward her black hair. Sleep trembled on her
lashes and she yawned frankly with her arms outflung.
“Oh-h-h-h-h dear!”
“I tell you I got more gumption
as my daughters. I want, Miriam, you should go
down by Berkovitz’s for that prescription for
your papa.”
“Aw, now, mamma, you’ve got six different
kinds of ”
“I tell you when I let your
papa get seasick or any kind of sick on this trip,
with his going-on about hisself, right away my whole
trip is spoilt. Ray, if you don’t get up
and sew in them cuffs and collars on your coat don’t
expect as I will do it for you. For my part you
can travel just like a rag-bag, Ray!”
“M-m-m-m.”
Shivering and with her small ankles
pressed together, Miriam peered out into the pale
light.
“A grand day, mamma.”
“Miriam, I think if I sew all
the express checks up in a bag and wear them right
here under my waist with the jewelry, they are better
as in papa’s pockets. With his tobacco-bag,
easy as anything he can pull them out and lose them.
That’s what we need yet, to lose our express
checks!”
“Mamma, that’s been on
your mind for ten days. For goodness’ sakes,
nobody’s going to lose the express checks!”
“What time they call for the trunks, Miriam?”
“For goodness’ sakes,
mamma, didn’t I tell you exactly ten times that’s
all been attended to! Yesterday Irving went direct
to the transfer office with me.”
“I ain’t so sure of nothing
what I don’t attend to myself. Ray, get
up!”
The sun rose over the roofs of the
city, gilding them. At seven o’clock the
household was astir, strapping, nailing, folding, and
unfolding. Mr. Binswanger stooped with difficulty
over his wicker traveling-bag.
“So! Na!”
In the act of adjusting her perky
new hat Miriam flung out an intercepting hand.
“Oh, papa, you mustn’t put in that old
flannel house-coat. That’s not fit to wear
anywhere but at home. And, papa, papa, you just
mustn’t take along that old black skull-cap;
you’ll be laughing-stock! Papa, please!”
He flung her off. “In my
house and out of my house what I want to wear I wear.
If in Naples them Eyetalians don’t like what
I wear, then ”
“Italians, papa; how
many times have I told you to say it Italians?”
“When they don’t like
what I wear over there, right away they should lump
it.”
“Papa, please!”
From the room adjoining Mrs. Binswanger
leaned a crumpled coiffure through the frame of the
open door: “Simon, I got here that red woolen
undershirt. I want you should put it on before
we start.”
“Na, na, mamma, I ”
“Right away Mrs. Berkovitz says
it will keep the salt air away from your rheumatism.
That’s what I need yet, you should grex
from the start with your backache. Ray, take
this in to your papa. Fooling with that new camera
she stands all morning, when she should help a little.
Look, Miriam, you think that in here I got the express
checks safe?”
“Yes, mamma.”
At ten o’clock, with the last
bolt sprung and the last baggage departed, Mrs. Binswanger
fell to the task of fitting gold links in her husband’s
adjustable cuffs, polishing his various pairs of spectacles,
inserting various handkerchiefs in adjacent and expeditious
pockets of his clothing.
“Simon, I want you should go
in and dress now. All your things is laid right
out on the bed for you.”
“Mamma, you and papa don’t
need to begin to dress already. None of you need
to leave the house until about two, and it’s
only ten now. Just think, from now until two
o’clock you got to get ready in, mamma.”
“When I travel I don’t take no chances.”
Miriam worked eager fingers into her
new, dark-blue kid gloves. She was dark and trig
in a little belted jacket, a gold quill shimmering
at a cocky angle on the new blue-straw hat.
“To be on the safe side, mamma,
I’m going right now to meet Irving, so we can
sure have lunch and be at the boat by two.”
“Not one minute later, Miriam!”
“Not one minute, mamma.
Don’t forget, Ray, you promised to bring my
field-glass for me. Be in the state-room all of
you where Irving and I can find you easy. There’s
always a big crowd at sailing. Don’t get
excited, mamma. Ray, be sure and fix papa’s
cuffs so the red flannel don’t show. Good-by.
Don’t get excited, mamma!”
“Miriam, you got on the asafetidy-bag?”
“Yes, mamma.”
“Miriam, you don’t be one minute later
as two ”
“No, mamma.”
“Miriam, you ”
“Good-by!”
Over a luncheon that lay cold and
unrelished between them Irving Shapiro leaned to Miriam
Binswanger, his voice competing with the five-piece
orchestra and noonday blather of the Oriental Cafe.
“I just can’t get it in
my head, somehow, Miriam, that to-morrow this time
you’ll be out on the sea.”
“Me neither.”
“I just never had two weeks fly like these since
we got acquainted.”
“Me me neither.”
Music like great laughter rose over the slip-up in
her voice.
“You going to write to me, Miriam?”
“Yes, Irving.”
“Often?”
“Yes, Irving.”
“You’re not going to forget
me over there, are you, when you get to meeting all
those counts and big fellows?”
“Oh, Irving!”
“You’re not going to clean
forget me then, are you, Miriam, and the great times
we’ve had together, and the days in the woods,
and the singing, and ”
“Oh, Irving, don’t. I Please ”
She laid her fork across her untouched
plate and turned her face from him. Tears rose
to choke her, and, tighten her throat against them
as she would, one rose to the surface and ricocheted
down her cheek.
“Why, Miriam!”
“It’s nothing, Irving,
only only let’s get out of here.
I don’t want any lunch, I just don’t.”
“Miriam, that’s the way
I feel, too. I I just can’t bear
to have you go!”
“You We can’t talk like that,
Irving.”
“I tell you, Miriam, I just can’t bear
it!”
“I I oh ”
He leaned across the table for her
hand, whispering, with an entire flattening of tone,
“Miriam, don’t go!”
“Irving, don’t talk so so
silly!”
“Miriam, let’s let’s
you and me stay at home!”
“Irving!”
“Let’s, Miriam!”
“Irving, are you crazy?” But her voice
yearned toward him.
“Miriam, right at this table
I’ve got an idea. We can do it, Miriam;
we can do it if you’re game.”
“Do what?”
He flashed out his watch. “We’ve
got two hours and twenty minutes before she sails.”
“Irving!”
“We have, dear, to to
get a special license and the ring and do the trick.”
“Why, I ”
“Two hours and twenty minutes
to make it all right for you to stay back with me.
Miriam, are you game, dear?”
They regarded each other across the
table as if each beheld in the other a vision.
“Irving, you you must be crazy!”
“I’m not, dear. I
was never less crazy. What’s the use of
us having to get apart after we just got each other?
What’s all those phony counts and picture-galleries
and high-sounding stunts compared to us staying home
and hitting it off together, Miriam? Just tell
me that, Miriam.”
“Irving, I we just
couldn’t! Look at mamma and papa and Ray,
all down at the boat maybe by now waiting for me,
and none of them wanting to go except me. For
a whole year I had to beg them for this, Irving.
They wouldn’t be going now if it wasn’t
for me. I Irving, you must be crazy!”
He leaned closer and out of range
of the waiter, his voice repressed to a tight whisper.
“None of those things count
when a girl and a fellow fall in love like you and
me, Miriam.”
Even in her crisis her diffidence
inclosed her like a sheath. “I never said
I I was in love, did I?”
“But you are! They’ll
go over there, Miriam, without you and have the time
of their lives. We’ll stay home and keep
the flat open for them so your mother won’t
have to worry any more about burglars. After the
first surprise it won’t be a trick at all.
We got two hours and fifteen minutes, dearie, and
we can do the act and be down at the boat with bells
on to tell ’em good-by. Now ain’t
the time to think about the little things and waste
time, Miriam. We got to do it now or off you
go hiking, just like like we had never met,
a whole ocean between us, Miriam!”
“Irving, you you mustn’t.”
She pushed back from the table.
He paid his check with a hand that trembled, resuming,
even as he crammed his bill-folder into a rear pocket:
“Be a sport, Miriam! I
tell you we got the right to do it because we’re
in love. We’ll just tell them the truth,
that at the last minute we we just couldn’t
let go. I’ll do the talking, Miriam; I’ll
tell the old folks.”
“Ray she ”
“If you ain’t afraid to
start out on a hundred a month and commissions, dear,
we don’t need to be scared of nothing. I’ll
tell them just the plain truth, dear. Just think,
if we do it now, when they come back in ten weeks
we can be down at the pier to meet them, eh, Miriam,
just like an an old married couple eh,
Miriam eh, Miriam, dear!”
She rose. A red seepage of blood
flooded her face; her bosom rose and fell.
“Are you game, Miriam? Are you, darling eh,
Miriam, eh?”
“Yes, Irving.”
Alongside her pier, white as a gull,
new painted, new washed, cargoed and stoked, the Roumania
reared three red smoke-stacks, and sat proudly with
the gang-plank flung out from her mighty hip and her
nose tapering toward the blue harbor and the blue
billows beyond.
Within the narrow confines of a first-deck
stateroom, piled round with luggage and its double-decker
berths freshly made up, Mrs. Binswanger applied an
anxious eye to the port-hole, straining tiptoe for
a wider glimpse of deck.
“I tell you this much, papa,
in another five minutes when that child don’t
come, right away off the boat I get and go home where
I belong.”
In the act of browsing among the lower
contents of his wicker hand-bag Mr. Binswanger raised
a perspiring face.
“Na, na, mamma, thirty
minutes’ time yet she’s got to get here.
Everybody don’t got to come on four hours too
soon like us.”
“Ja, you should worry about
anything, so long as you got right in front of you
your newspapers and your tobacco. Right away for
his tobacco he has to dig when he sees so worried
I am I can’t see. Why don’t our Ray
come back now if she can’t find ’em and
say she can’t find ’em?”
“I tell you, Carrie, if you
let me go myself I can find ’em and ”
“Right here you stay with me,
Simon Binswanger! We don’t get separated
no more as we can help. I ain’t Ach,
look such a crowd, and no Miriam. I ”
“Na, na, Carrie!”
“So easy-going he is! My
daughter should keep me worried like this! To
lunch the day what she sails to Europe she has to go!
Always she complains that salesmen ain’t good
enough for her yet, and on the day she sails she has
to go to lunch with one. Why, I ask you, Simon,
why don’t that Ray come back?”
Mr. Binswanger packed his pipe tight
and adjusted a small, close-fitting black cap.
“To travel with women, I tell you, it ain’t
no pleasure.”
“Ach, du Himmel!
Right away off that cap comes, Simon! With my
own hands right away out of sight I hide it.
Just once I want Miriam should see you in that skull-hat!
Right away off you take it, Simon!”
“Ach, Carrie, on my own head I ”
“I tell you already ten times
I wish I was back in my flat. I guess you think
it’s a good feeling I got to lock up my flat
for Himmel knows who to break in, and my son Isadore
’way out in Ohio and not even here to to
say to his mother good-by. Already with such a
smell on this boat and my feelings I got a homesickness
I don’t wish on my worst enemy. My boy
should be left like this in America all alone!”
“Ach, Carrie, for why ”
Of a sudden Mrs. Binswanger’s
face fell into soft creases, her eyes closed, and
cold tears oozed through, zigzagging downward.
“My boy out West with ”
“Na, na, Carrie!
Don’t you worry our Izzy don’t take care
of hisself better as you. For what his expense
accounts are always a parlor car he has
to have he can take care of hisself twice
better as us, mamma. Mamma, you should feel fine
now we got started. I wish, mamma, you could
see such a card-room and such a dining-room they got
up-stairs gold chairs like you never seen.
We should go up on deck, Carrie, and ”
“Ach, Simon, Simon,
why don’t that child come! So nearly crazy
I never was in my life. And now on top my Ray
gone too. In a few minutes the boat sails, and
I don’t know yet if I got a child on board.
I tell you, Simon, when Ray comes back I think it’s
better we carry off our trunks and ”
“Na, na, mamma, hear
out in the hall. I told you so! Didn’t
I tell you they come? You hear now Miriam’s
voice. Didn’t I tell you, didn’t I
tell you?”
“Mamma, papa, here we are!”
And in the doorway the hesitant form
of erstwhile Miriam Binswanger, her eyes dim as if
obscured by a fog of tulle, over one shoulder the flushed
face of Mr. Irving Shapiro, and in turn over his the
dark, quick features of Ray, flashing their quick
expressions.
“I I found ’em, mamma, just
coming on board.”
A white flame of anger seemed suddenly
to lick dry the two tears that staggered down Mrs.
Binswanger’s plump cheeks.
“I tell you, Miriam, you got
a lots of regards for your parents.”
“But, mamma, we ”
“A child what can worry her
mother like this! Ten minutes before we sail
on board she comes just like nothing had happened.
I should think, Mr. Shapiro, that a young man what
can hold a responsible position like you, would see
as a young girl what he invites out to lunch should
have more regards for her parents as you both.”
“Mamma, you But just wait, mamma.”
Miriam stepped half resolutely into
the room, peeling the glove from off her left hand,
and her glance here and there and everywhere with the
hither and thither of a wind-blown leaf.
“Mamma, guess what what
we we got to tell you? Mamma, we Irving,
you you tell,” Her bared hand fell
like a quivering wing and she shrank back against
his gray tweed coat-sleeve. “Irving, you
tell!”
“Miriam, nothing ain’t wrong! Izzy,
my ”
“No, no, Mrs. Binswanger, nothing
is wrong; what Miriam was trying to say was that everything’s
right, wasn’t it, Miriam?”
“Yes, Irving.”
Mr. Binswanger threw two hands with
the familiar upward gesture. “Come, right
away in a few minutes you got to get off, Shapiro.
First I take you up and show you the card-room and ”
“’Sh-h-h-h, papa, let Irving Go
on, Irving.”
He cleared his throat, inserting two
fingers within his tall collar. “You see,
Mr. Binswanger, you and Mrs. Binswanger, just at the
last minute we we both seen we couldn’t
let go!”
“Miriam!”
“Now don’t get excited,
Mrs. Binswanger, only we well, we just went
and got married, Mrs. Binswanger, when we seen we
couldn’t let go. From Dr. Cann we just
came. A half-hour on pins and needles, you can
believe us or not, we had to wait for him, and that’s
what made us so late. See, on her hand she’s
got the ring and ”
“See, mamma!”
“And in my pocket I got the
special license. We couldn’t help it, Mr.
Binswanger, we we just couldn’t let
go.”
“We couldn’t, mamma, papa.
We thought we ought to stay at home in the flat you’re
so worried, mamma, about burglars and nobody in America
with Izzy and and Mamma?
Papa? Haven’t you got nothing to say to
your Miriam?”
She extended empty and eloquent arms,
a note of pleading rising above the tears in her words.
“Nothing? Mamma? Papa?”
From without came voices; the grinding
of chains lifting cargo; a great basso from a smoke-stack;
more voices. “All off! All off!”
Feet scurrying over wooden decks! “All
off! All off!” A second steam-blast that
shot up like a rocket.
“Mamma? Ray? Papa?
Haven’t any of you got anything to say?”
“Gott in Himmel!”
said Mrs. Binswanger. “Gott in Himmel!”
“So!” said Mr. Binswanger,
placing a hand with a loud pat on each knee.
“So!”
“Oh, papa!”
“A fine come-off! A fine
come-off! Eh, mamma? To Europe we go to take
our daughter, and just so soon as we go no daughter
we ’ain’t got to take!”
“Gott in Himmel! Gott in Himmel!”
“Ray, haven’t you got nothing to say to
Irving and me Ray!”
With a quick, fluid movement the younger
sister slid close and her arms wound tight. “Miriam,
you you little darling, you! Miriam!
Irving! You darlings!”
Suddenly Mrs. Binswanger inclined,
inclosing the two in a wide, moist embrace. “Ach,
my Miriam, what have you done! Not a stitch, not
even a right wedding! Irving, you bad boy, you,
like I I should ever dream you had thoughts
to be our son-in-law. Ach, my children, my
children! Simon, I tell you we can be thankful
it’s a young man what we know is all right.
Ach, I I just don’t know I just don’t
know.”
“Papa, you ain’t mad at us?”
“What good it does me to be
mad? I might just so well be glad as mad.
My little Miriam-sha, my little Miriam-sha!”
And he fell to blinking as if with gritty eyelids.
“Simon ach,
Simon you ach, my husband,
you you ain’t crying, you ”
“Go ’way, Carrie, with
such nonsense! You women don’t know yet
the difference between a laff and a cry. Well,
Shapiro, you play me a fine trick, eh?”
“It wasn’t a trick, Mr. Binswanger pa,
it was ”
“All off! All off!”
And a third great blast sounded that set the tumblers
rattling in their stands.
“I guess me me and Irving’s
got to get off now, mamma ”
Mrs. Binswanger grasped her husband’s
arm in sudden panic. “Simon, I I
think as we should get off and go home with them.
I ”
“Now, now, mamma, don’t
get excited! No, no, you mustn’t! We
will keep house fine for you until you come back.
See, mamma! I have the key, and everything’s
fixed. See, mamma! You got to go, mamma.
Ray should see Europe before she finds out there there’s
just one thing that’s better than going to Europe.
Please, mamma, don’t get excited. I tell
you we’ll have things fine when you come back.
Won’t we, Irving, won’t we?”
“Ach, nothing in the house, Miriam.”
“We got to get off now, Miriam
dear, we got to. You can write us about those
things, Mrs. Binswanger mamma. Come,
Miriam!”
“Yes, yes, Irving. Now
don’t cry, mamma, please! When everybody
is so happy it’s a sin to cry.”
“Not a stitch on her wedding-day!
All her clothes locked up here on the boat! Let
me open the top tray of the trunk, Miriam, and give
you your toothbrush and a few waists Ach,
nearly crazy I am! How I built for that girl’s
wedding when it ”
“Come, mamma, come ”
They were jamming up the crowded stairway
and out to the sun-washed deck. Women in gay
corsages and bright-colored veils strolled with an
air of immediate adjustment. Men already in steamer
caps and tweeds leaned against the railings.
Travelers were rapidly separating themselves from
stay-at-homes. Already the near-side decks were
lined with faces, some wet-eyed and some smiling,
and all with kerchiefs or small flags ready for adieus.
“All off! All off!”
“Good-by, mamma darling. Don’t worry!”
“Irving, you be good to my Miriam.
It’s just like you got from me a piece of my
heart. Be good to my baby, Irving. Be good!”
Ray tugged at her mother’s skirts.
“’Sh-h-h-h, mamma, the whole boat don’t
need to know.”
“Be good to her, Irving!”
“Like I just like I could be anything
else to her, mamma!”
“Good-by, mamma darling.
Don’t cry so, I tell you! Let me go, please,
mamma, please! Good-by, papa darling, take good
care of yourself and I just
love you, papa! Ray, have a grand time and don’t
miss none of it. That’s right, kiss Irving;
he’s your brother-in-law now. Don’t
cry, mamma darling! Good-by! Good-by!”
A tangle of adieus, more handkerchiefing,
more tears and laughter, more ear-splitting shrieks
of steam and a black plume of smoke that rose in a
billow, and hand in hand Miriam and Irving Shapiro
joggling down the gang-plank to the pier.
From the bow of the top deck the ship’s
orchestra let out a blare of music designed to cover
tears and heartaches. The gang-plank drew up and
in like a tongue, separating land from sea. From
every deck faces were peering down into the crowd
below.
Miriam grasped her husband’s
coat-sleeve, in her frenzy taking a fine pinch of
flesh with it. Tears rained down her cheeks.
“There they are, Irving, all
three of ’em on the second deck, waving down
at us! Good-by, mamma, papa, Ray! Oh, Irving,
I just can’t stand to see ’em go!
Papa, Ray, mamma darling!”
“Now, now, Miriam, think what
a grand time they’re going to have and how soon
they’re going to be home again.”
“Oh, my darlings!”
Mrs. Binswanger sopped at her eyes,
waving betimes the small black cap rescued in the
up-deck rush.
Laughter crept with a tinge of hysteria
into Miriam’s voice. “Oh, darlings,
I I just can’t bear to have you go.
They’re they’re moving, Irving!
I Oh, mamma, papa, darlings! They’re
moving, Irving!”
Out into the bay where the sunlight
hung between blue water and bluer sky, a sea-gull
swinging round her spar, the Roumania steamed,
unconscious of her freight.
“Good-by, mamma, good-by.
Let’s follow them to the end of the pier, Irving.
I I want to watch them till they’re
out of sight.”
“Don’t cry so, darling!”
“Look! look, see that black
speck; it’s papa! Oh, I love him, Irving.
Good-by, my darlings! Good-by! They didn’t
want to go except for me, and Oh, my darlings!”
“Come, dear, we can’t
see them any more. Come now, it’s all over,
dear.”
They picked their way through the
dispersing crowd back toward the dock gates.
“See, dear, how grand everything
is! You and me happy here and ”
“Oh, Irving, I know, but ”
“But nothing.”
“Pin my veil for me, dear, to to
hide my eyes. I bet I’m a sight!”
“You’re not a sight, you’re a beauty!”
“’Sh-h-h-h, I don’t feel like making
fun, Irving!”
“It’s a hot day, dear,
so we got to celebrate some cool way. Let’s
take a cab and ”
“No, Irving dear, we can’t afford another
one.”
“To-day we can afford any old thing we want.”
“No, no, dear.”
“I got it, then! If we
ride down to the Battery we can catch a boat for Brighton.
Then we can have a little boat-ride all our own, eh?
You and me, darling, on a boat-trip all our own.”
She turned her shining eyes full upon him. “That’ll
be just perfect,
Irving!” she said.