Don't interrupt me, Hershela. My friend here I
want to tell a story to is a journalist and he will understand I am no
'antishemite' if I explain how it is that you want your son Sammy to tell
the conductor he is under five."
* * * * *
Turning to me Mishkin grinned and proceeded.
"The Jews, as you know, are great travelers," he said. "They have traveled
more than all the other peoples put together. And yet, they don't like to
pay car fare, in Russia, particular. I can remember my father, who was a
good rabbi and a holy man. Yes, but when it came time to ride on the train
from one city to another he would fold up his long beard and crawl under
the seat.
"It was only on such an occasion that my father would talk to a woman. He
would actually rather cut off his right hand than talk to a woman in
public that he didn't know. This was because Rabbi Mishkin, my father, was
a holy man. But he was not above asking a woman to spread out her skirts
so that the inspector coming through the train couldn't see him under the
seat.
"Of course, you had to pay the conductors. But a ruble was enough, not ten
or twenty rubles like the fare called for. And the conductors were always
glad to have Jews ride on their train because it meant a private revenue
for them.
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