Yekl | Page 5

of
the glad event.

But if Yekl was averse to wearing a soldier's uniform on his own
person he was none the less fond of seeing it on others. His ruling
passion, even after he had become a husband and a father, was to watch
the soldiers drilling on the square in front of the whitewashed barracks
near which stood his father's smithy. From a cheder [note] boy he
showed a knack at placing himself on terms of familiarity with the
Jewish members of the local regiment, whose uniforms struck terror
into the hearts of his schoolmates. He would often play truant to attend
a military parade; no lad in town knew so many Russian words or was
as well versed in army terminology as Yekel "Beril the blacksmith's;"
and after he had left cheder, while working his father's bellows, Yekl
would vary synagogue airs with martial song.
[note] cheder: A school where Jewish children are instructed in the Old
Testament or the Talmud.
Three years had passed since Yekl had for the last time set his eyes on
the whitewashed barracks and on his father's rickety smithy, which, for
reasons indirectly connected with the Government's redoubled
discrimination against the sons of Israel, had become inadequate to
support two families; three years since that beautiful summer morning
when he had mounted the spacious kibitka which was to carry him to
the frontier-bound train; since, hurried by the driver, he had leaned out
of the wagon to kiss his half-year-old son good-bye amid the
heart-rending lamentations of his wife, the tremulous "Go in good
health!" of his father, and the startled screams of the neighbors who
rushed to the relief of his fainting mother. The broken Russian learned
among the Povodye soldiers he had exchanged for English of a
corresponding quality, and the bellows for a sewing machine--a change
of weapons in the battle of life which had been brought about both by
Yekl's tender religious feelings and robust legs. He had been shocked
by the very notion of seeking employment at his old trade in a city
where it is in the hands of Christians, and consequently involves a
violation of the Mosaic Sabbath. On the other hand, his legs had been
thought by his early American advisers eminently fitted for the treadle.
Unlike New York, the Jewish sweatshops of Boston keep in line, as a
rule, with the Christian factories in observing Sunday as the only day of

rest. There is, however, even in Boston a lingering minority of
bosses--more particularly in the "pants"-making branch--who abide by
the Sabbath of their fathers. Accordingly, it was under one of these that
Yekl had first been initiated into the sweatshop world.
Subsequently Jake, following numerous examples, had given up
"pants" for the more remunerative cloaks, and having rapidly attained
skill in his new trade he had moved to New York, the center of the
cloak-making industry.
Soon after his arrival in Boston his religious scruples had followed in
the wake of his former first name; and if he was still free from work on
Saturdays he found many another way of "desecrating the Sabbath."
Three years had intervened since he had first set foot on American soil,
and the thought of ever having been a Yekl would bring to Jake's lips a
smile of patronizing commiseration for his former self. As to his
Russian family name, which was Podkovnik, Jake's friends had such
rare use for it that by mere negligence it had been left intact.

2
The New York Ghetto
It was after seven in the evening when Jake finished his last jacket.
Some of the operators had laid down their work before, while others
cast an envious glance on him as he was dressing to leave, and fell to
their machines with reluctantly redoubled energy. Fanny was a week
worker and her time had been up at seven; but on this occasion her
toilet had taken an uncommonly long time, and she was not ready until
Jake got up from his chair. Then she left the room rather suddenly and
with a demonstrative "Good-night all!"
When Jake reached the street he found her on the sidewalk, making a
pretense of brushing one of her sleeves with the cuff of the other.
"So kvick?" she asked, raising her head in feigned surprise.

"You cull dot kvick?" he returned grimly. "Good-bye!"
"Say, ain't you goin' to dance tonight, really?" she queried
shamefacedly.
"I tol' you I vouldn't."
"What does she want of me?" he complained to himself proceeding on
his way. He grew conscious of his low spirits, and, tracing them with
some effort to their source, he became gloomier still. "No more fun for
me!" he decided. "I shall get them over here and begin a new life."
After supper, which he