Mr. Monday and other tales of Jewish Amsterdam

WEEKDAYS AND SABBATH 87

"Is that so? Well, then she is not listed anymore on the Bingo numbers."

Bingo evenings are the highlights of family life. In the Jewish quarter of Amsterdam everybody plays Bingo. Every evening. In all the families, wealthy or poor, they play Bingo.

After supper, when the dishes have been washed and a pot of tea is standing ready on the table, someone says "Let's play Bingo."

"All right, you fetch the boards."

"Who will call the numbers tonight?"

"I will do it."

Playing Bingo in the Jewish district is a game for intelligent people. The numbers are called by their nicknames, and these you have to know by heart if you do not want to go wrong. If a player cries out that he has won, and it turns out that he has filled in a wrong number, he hides his head in shame. Bingo sharpens the mind because it develops a feeling for intonation and charade.

Everybody knows that Number One is called the Pisher, the bed-wetter or little squirt.

And you do not have to be a genius in order to understand that the Little Swan is Number 2. So naturally, Two Little Swans is 22.

But what is a Yiddish Hatchet? You don't know? Then look at the shape of Number 7.

The game becomes more complicated when Number 6 is taken out of the bag. The caller chants "Mr.Bottleman!"

Oy, who is Mr.Bottleman?

Mr. Bottleman runs a millinery shop in Saint Anthony Street. Everybody knows this. But what has that to do with