The Denver Jewish news. [volume] (Denver, Colo.) 1915-1925, 1922-02-08
Strangers at the Shrine
A STORY FOR LINCOLN,S BIRTH
DAY.
BY ELAIA EHRLIcH LEvINGER.

iStNihsSi, rights TtseTNeub.
Walters Meyers smiled II trifle wry-
ly as he stood before the venerable
piece Of walnut and marble labeled as
''parlor table from the Lincoln Home
lie knew how queer it was to he spend
ing his precious two hours between
trains in the commonplace stonefront.
whose one claim to fame rested upon
a tragic accident: Lincoln. brought
from Ford's Theatre across the street
had breathed his last in one of its
uingy rooms. 1t would have looked
queer TO the fellows he chummed with
at college, Walter told himself; there
was so much to be seen in Washington
ON ones first visit. And here he was
neglecting peep into the Congression-
Al Library and ignoring the Mint and
all the rest, just to spend few mo.
ments looking over the books and pic
lures and autographed letters of the
hero of his boyhood.
But he didn't mind being queer"
Walter told himself with a certain un
toyish bitterness. Hadn't he done his
best since going to college to fit into
the mold, to be one with his mates?
Suppose his own parents had been
born across the sea: wasn't he ma
tive-born. hadn't he come from the
little high school in his own western
town with athletic honors and a
scholarship in the bargain? But the
Freshman had failed to realize that
he would not meet the same de-
mocracy he had known in his home
town where the three or four Jewish
families seemed to have been swallow
ed up by their Gentle neighbors. He
himsef had hardly realized he was n
jew, except when the fall holydays
meant n trip to the neighboring city
for synagog attendance; but at col.
lege he had learned soon enough that
he was different, alien-the son of a
peculiar people.
And now at the end of his Fresh.
man year he was returning home for
ihe summer vacation smarting with n
bitterness that was not entirely per.
sonal and selfish. 1t wasn't alone the
fact that he hadn't been rushed for
that blamed fraternity, he repeated
| holly to himself, nor the singing
realization that he had lost out he
cause he was a Jew. He hadn't had
much racial pride back home where
one man seemed as good MS another
1t had never seemed to make any
difference to him whether ones faith
We're Jew or Baptist. But now
he knew-and it hurt him.
ITS shame" his roommate hat
agreed with him when talking the sit
uation over, just before they parted
for the summer. when they started
to rush you they thought you wer,
German by your name, I guess. and
You might have got by If you'd have
kept quiet when they asked you. Now
I'm not saying it's decent thing ia
keep a man out of the best frats cause
he's n Jew-but things happen to be
'hht way So Niiht hlt you kV''iS ~
do about it?"
Nothing" Walter had answered
heavily. But as he packed his trunk,
feeling so many years older than the
boy who had unpacked it in the aut-
umn, he vowed he was going to do
something to lose this hateful feeling
of being different and apart his own
college had put upon him Hc had
come to his Alma Mater with all the
fierce idealism of youth; he had OK
pccrcd to find fellowship and lie
ino crazy. And because OF Mis- Jewish
blood the group he most admired had
denied him their closest brotherhood.
lie thought of his younger brother at
home, would he also come to college
same bitter shame.
He looked up from the case contain
ing copy of the Bible tradition says
the backwoodsman read as boy, and
looked into the eyes of another travel
ei. One look and he knew she was
also u pilgrim at the shrine of Lin
coin, that she had come there not as
n slight seer but as palmer visiting
II holy place.
The woman was of the type now dis
appearing in the south and rarely, if
ever glimpsed in the north. Prcma
turcly aged with the early labors of
have been any age from thirty to fifty.
her shining black face was unwrink-
led but tired: her eyes were blank
with the dull resignation of those who
sentiment. Walter noticed that altho
hpr ,.aIico dress WINS snnttess aud fine