Catholics have a penchant for sculpture, graven images, etc. At any rate, here am I, a Jew, a Zionist, feeling only that in Jewish subjects can I do my best, compelled by circumstances to furnish the art of Catholics. If I were an epigram-maker—I am not, for I have too high a regard for truth—but if I were, I would coin a fine epigram to strike off the situation. Life is a hard taskmaster, but I shall get even with him some day.
"I have heard of Boris Schatz's Bezalel School, and I know Boris Schatz. He has never been a sculptor, and was known only as a medallist, and, owing to his poor eyesight, not a good one at that. His idea of forming an art school in Palestine is fantastic and, if anything, premature. That is, as a natural development. It may have some value as a means of Zionist propaganda, but as evidence of the development of art in Jewish life, or the need of it at the present time, it is not relevant. The art of the Jewish people must come from Jewish life. The mere fact that Schatz has established a school in Jerusalem means nothing. It is an abnormal phenomenon. It is evidence, however, of the fact that even Zionists do not clearly see when they accept the abnormal as the normal in Jewish life."
"What do you hope to do in New York?" I asked.
"Well, I cannot say," he replied, with a sardonic smile. "If I become less stubborn, I may be assimilated in time, and, by making something that will please Americans, acquire a position. It will never be acquired as a Jewish sculptor. But I am rather a stubborn morsel. I do not assimilate easily."
Mr. Fromenson’s Trip
During the month of April Mr. Fromenson was scheduled to visit Montgomery, Ala., April 1 and 2; Meriden, Miss., April 3, 4 and 5; New Orleans, April 6, 7, 8 and 9; Galveston, April 10; and up to April 25 he will visit Beaumont, Houston, San Antonio, Austin, Waco, Fort Worth and Dallas, Texas. After passing through Texas, he will visit a number of cities in the Middle West.
FRIENDS
(Translated from the Yiddish by S. Greif.)
WHEN Beril was liberated from prison, after having served a nine months' term, it was 7 o'clock. The small package containing a few of his garments, dirty and outworn, he cast behind the hedge, muttering, "If I'm to be free—then free entirely!" He then walked up a nearby avenue, filled with youngsters, pleasantly strolling along with merry shouts and laughter. His thought was to meet his acquaintances among them; but he found none. And how he longed for a familiar face, for a friend's voice! Could he hope to meet any elsewhere?—He knew not. He certainly would have met some at his circle. From the prison to the club-house seemed a far too daring task for him.
Beril paused for a moment, thoughtfully considering whom he would visit first. He recollected his old friend Bainusch, whom he knew had married Bailke, a merry young girl, likewise a member of the circle—now residing in some small, distant alley. He started on his walk, thinking also of remaining there for the night. As he reached the place darkness had already fallen. Bainusch seemed, at first, not to recognize him. Beril heartily laughed at the sight; but noticing the eager, then the serious look on Bainusch, he blurted out:
"Don't you recognize Beril!"
“Ah!” exclaimed Bainusch in a voice uncertain as to whether it was pleased or shocked at such an unexpected meeting. After eyeing Beril for a time, he calmiy admitted, “But my!--How deathly pale you look.—Have you been long in prison ?”
"Nine months —," was Beril's reply. He then added excitedly: "Imagine! I was accused of the murder of a gordowoi, and was quite near the gallows!"
Bainusch shuddered at the words: "Why, as I remember, you were never among the terrorists —."
"No; but is that quite necessary?—It was enough that I witnessed it!—"