Mr. Monday and other tales of Jewish Amsterdam

MY FATHER AND MR. LEBOVITZ 49

Now Mother and Grandmother knew from years of long experience that Father, in a lengthy and roundabout way, would start to relate something for which he could never be held responsible in a formal sense.

"Mr. Lebovitz says that Lowee is a first-class salesman," he announced very seriously. "He may be a little bit on the loose side, but really, he is fundamentally a good boy. That young man spends a lot of money, so what? If he were a miser, you wouldn't like that either."

With Mr. Lebovitz as his reliable spokesman, Father slowly but surely built up Lowee's reputation as a first-class salesman. One night he announced, "I bought something quite new from Lowee today."

It was a sort of special safety pin. Father got a straightedge razor out of the cupboard. He put that pin on the cutting blade of the razor.

"And now the biggest schlemiel can shave himself without tearing the wallpaper from his face," he declared confidently.

"How much did that silly thing cost you?" asked Grandmother.

"At Lowee's, seventy-five cents!"

"Seventy-five cents for a piece of bent wire. I have been wondering for weeks, what is your Mr. Lebovitz after, constantly talking about Lowee. Now I understand," said Grandmother.

"At Kern's in Utrecht Street these things cost two and a half guilders," argued Father.

"Jonas Slap will not like you for this, I don't think," remarked Grandmother tartly..."