Evening star., 1926-10-04

~ was one of those miracles equiv
alent to the old one that man
| is the last to hear of his own
| family scandal, that old Lady
| Rosalsky did not know that the
money which paid for the rental or
her snug little fiat on Simpson street
was ill-begot.
/ And ill-begot by the light. the sun,
! the moon the stars and the apple
| of her eye BegOt, in plentiful sums,
| by her son 1sadore.
| 1t was strange that in period
| of six years there had been no flaw
/ In the consistency with which OLD
Mrs Rosalsky remained in ignorance
of what the Bronx. the lower East
Side and the police records had full
! knowledge Of.
| Her little old-fogy. gentle, mlnclng,
trusting attitude toward all OF life
must have had something to do with
! it. No one, not in the habit of rob-
bing widows of their mite. and taking
proyerbial pennies off of dead men S
| eye-lds. and twisting the arms OF
babes. could have been guilty Of ever
informing Mrs. Rosalsky of the truth
about her son ISadore.
SO far as she knew, his steadily
advancing position with the WOODEN
I cap concern where he had started
as office boy seven years previously
was responsible for the fine five-room
! fat. and the Alaska seal dolman cape,
the radio machine and the two-seated
roadster in which she sometimes rode
! proudly beside her son.
| Isadore. God bless him, had made
good. He had softened the long years
! M 1ffhnNQ
erty by loyal devotion, and more
solid comfort than she had e\
dreamed the lean years of lfetinl,'
of hard work could yield her.
True. Isadore's work kept him
away from home a good part OF
! the time. and the long evenings alone.
even with the money in her pocket
| to treat a neighbor and attend a
motion picture show, could pail.
| But in the main there was not a
, prouder. Il more contented. Il finer
attired old lady in the Bronx than
| Mrs. RUSalsky.
/ And on those rare evenings when
! Isadore did not have to attend "a dlrec'
| tors meeting of the firm. or help take
J inventory, or take customer to the
! theater. or sometimes go off on snort
! trips for the concern, what a prldeful
| procedure OF preparation for the
| mother. The dinner of black lenti]
soup, and bread klose smothered in
| Drowned onions. and Isadore's favorite
dish Of noodles smothered under
stewed cherries. and gefuldte fish pre-
pared by the hand of postmaster,
| and a dessert called apple strudei
| where the fruit juices oozed through
| pie crust in Il thickly rich sirup.
! 1t was as if Mr.. Rosalsky could
| never tire of her sons chronic effu'
sions upon these occasions.
Mamma la, any exposition In the
woild would give you a gold medal
| for this gefuldte.'
"Mamma-la, l should die Of indlges-
ton. but anyways it won't be until
after I've had third helping OF those
| noodles"
"Mamma-la, another piece of that
strudel, if it lands me in my grave
| How Mrs. Rosalsky loved to serve
her son, handing him the overf1owing
| plates. her hands and her eyes over
| flowing with her love and her graft
tude. II.
It was the only oasis spot in his
crowded. dangerous, lawless life. this
| little fiye-room fl. Iae shared with his
mother. It was AAe only streak OF
/ sentiment in nature that life and
environment had calloused into the