Esther Singer Kreitman The Dance of the Demons (retail) (pdf)

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.This younglady, in fact, was going to call on her and take her out for her first walkthrough the select part of Warsaw, the real Warsaw as Michael calledit.And Deborah was in a great flutter and more exultant than shecared to show.Now here was a knock at the door.That, to be sure, wasMiss Rushka. Hello, how are you? Won t you sit down? Oh, no thanks, I don t mind standing, said Miss Rushka, promptlysitting down. Oh, please don t bother.I ve only just had my tea. Well, won t you help yourself to some fruit, then? Deborahpleaded, as she put the hat on in front of the mirror.Miss Rushka came to her aid. Not like that.Like this! There, it suits you much better that way,she said, jerking the hat into a rakish angle. Don t you think so?Deborah solemnly nodded her head.The new hat solemnly noddedassent, and away they went down the stairs like a whirlwind.MissRushka was hard put to keep up with Deborah, who finally moderatedher pace; it was only by a supreme effort that she succeeded in hiding alittle of her impetuous excitement.Out of doors the sun was shining brightly as if it appreciated theimportance of the occasion.The street was full of animation, full of thebreath of life.Carefree strollers thronged the pavements.While theelderly folk sauntered along at their leisure, young couples elbowedtheir way past in a hurry.There were girls with their boyfriends, andgirls without their boyfriends.Girls with young men wearing theorthodox gabardine, but with new-fangled, smart, little caps andgleaming black topboots; girls with young men wearing lounge suitsanyone might have thought they were Gentiles; and other girls withyoung men who looked like half-breeds, for they wore coats that werea cross between a gabardine and a frockcoat, and had on stiff collarsand stiff cuffs, which none but the wearers knew to be of papier m�ch�.There were women with their husbands and women without their hus-bands.Thin women and fat women.Men with long beards and shortbeards.And there were children of all ages and sizes.Among the jostling crowd there were many sinful young people whowere going to break the Sabbath; hurrying away into an unfamiliar120 ESTHER SINGER KREITMANneighborhood, they would furtively mount a tram that would takethem to the distant Bagatelle Gardens.The unorthodox were headingfor the magnificent Saxon Gardens, where a notice Jews wearinggabardines and dogs not admitted barred the way for others.Only the chosen subjects of the Czar could enter there.As for theworking men, for the most part they were off to the KreszinskiGardens, where they had their traditional rendezvous.Nor was a merestroll round the streets of the town to be sniffed at.This was the holySabbath, when work, unemployment, cares and troubles, creditors andall other pests were forgotten, when every man was his own master,and almost every home was supplied with food for the day.As for theevil city smells, no man in his proper mind took any notice of them.As for the dust that blew into one s eyes, and the awkward cobblestonesthat harassed the feet, these things were so familiar that no one couldhave really and truly enjoyed his stroll without them.The street they were in was like home to Deborah.The scene it pre-sented on a Sabbath was, in particular, so familiar to her, that shethought she could recognize every single face, every crack in the wall,every cobblestone.She could see it even with her eyes closed, after hav-ing spent so many watchful, wistful hours at the window.She knew bysight all those bareheaded, big-bosomed girls with the painted facesand the multi-colored shawls on their backs, who paced up and downon a weekday, and now, on the Sabbath, although they still wore thesame clothes, yet had a festive air about them.These girls had strangehabits: they beckoned to every man that passed them by.She oftenwondered why, and not knowing anything about rouge, she also won-dered how they came by their high complexions.Today Deborah s own cheeks were colored a deep red.She was quitegiddy with joy.All that she had been longing for week after week wasnow within her grasp.Only.coming up to meet her was the oldwoman who kept the wineshop, and this old woman had a lot to say: Hello, Deborah! I like your new clothes.Wish you well to wearthem.How s Mama? Did I tell you the other day.Deborah scarcely listened to the old woman s prattle, and onlyhoped it would not go on forever. Well, I won t detain you any longer, Deborah blurted out after awhile, and escaped from the old gossip s clutches. This is Krulewski Street, you know, Miss Rushka announced. It s beautiful.And look how clean it is.THE DANCE OF THE DEMONS 121 The best is still to come [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Linki