Mr. Monday and other tales of Jewish Amsterdam

28 Adr. Monday and Other Tales of Jewish Amsterdam

The animosity between the two groups stems from the fact that the setter can, in a way of speaking, make or break the earnings of a polisher. Each setter serves five or six polishers. Every time one of the sixty-four tiny planes is exactly in its right place, he gets back the lead shell and on his gas flame he melts the solder. Then he turns the stone slightly in such a way that the next plane can be polished. The polishers sit with their backs to the light of the windows, the setters stand with their backs towards them. The long row of the backs of the polishers forms one side of an alley, the row of backs of the adjusters the other side.

Because they sit back-to-back the polishers jeering call the setters their fart catchers. "Have you heard," they joke to each other, "that they have been asked to take part in the opening of Parliament next September? You didn't know? Well, when the queen comes driving up in her gold coach, our setters will be part of the ceremonial procession, their job is to march right behind the horses to catch the farts."

The children often visit the factory. At noon mother says, "When you have finished eating, you have to run over to the factory. I have a nice pan of baked potatoes for you to take to your father." The potatoes are warmed up on an adjustable light. The potato dishes may also contain stewed cow stomach, onion, meat or boiled fish, and then the factory reeks of the messages of love. But in the titillating smell of food, criminal instincts grow like cucumbers during a thunderstorm. If the owner of the hash lets his attention slacken for an instant, someone else is sure to steal a mouthful from his pan. Then when he complains they reply "What does it matter, one mouthful? You have a pan-full."