Nathan Bamberger
calls! Maybe our friends out here got being good wifes and good
housekeepers on the brain more as high kicking in New York; but just the
same Mrs. Nathan Bamberger, what can buy and sell you three times over,
ain't ashamed to go in her Lindell Avenue kitchen, when her husband or
her son likes red cabbage, what you can't hire cooked, or once in a
while a miltz."
"Say, if I've heard that once, I've--"
"Then, too, Sadie, since we're talking--it's a little thing--I haven't
liked to talk about it, but I--I got the first time I should hear the
word _ma_ on your lips. You think it's so nice that a daughter-in-law
should always call me 'Say,' like a bed-post?"
"I--I can't, Mrs. Loeb--it--it just won't come--mother."
"Don't tell me you don't know any better! A girl what can be so nice
with poor old blind grandma, like you been, can be nice with her
mother-in-law and sister-in-law, too, if she wants to be. I didn't want
I should ever have to talk to you like this, Sadie, but sometimes a--a
person she just busts out."
And then Mrs. Herman Loeb leaped forward in her chair, her small tight
fist pounding each word:
"Then let me go! Whatta you holding me here for? Let me go back,
Mrs.
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