be helpful. They smiled at him, kowtowed a good deal and spoke ever so softly. Abe sensed that the whole organization was playing for his favor.
He did not guess, however, that he was at the very center of a maelstrom of soul-searching and apprehensions. People looked at him, then at one another, slyly…. Their looks implied that this newcomer was playing his part of humble librarian in masterly fashion.
From time to time “anketas” or questionnaires are distributed among the employes. Abe Hyman’s answers were read anxiously but gave no clues. They indicated that he was born in Russia and had live in Brooklyn for twenty-two years….
DENOUEMENT
Finally one harassed official, perhaps with a strain or stainlet on his conscience, decided on a desperate stratagem. He took Abe out to lunch. Carefully, with palpitant heart, he led up to the subject. Then he pounced:
“By the way,” he said, with an air of studied casualness, “that’s a mighty nice black leather coat you’re wearing, comrade. I wish I had one…. Where did you get it?”
Abe Hyman went on eating his potato pancakes oblivious to the drama of the moment.
“Oh the coat,” he said, calmly, as if talking about a coat. “I bought it in a sale by Moe Levy’s. Cheap and nice, ain’t it?”
“Oh!” exclaimed his companion, a sudden elation in his manner. “By Moe Levy’s in a sale. Well, well!”
He forgot all about his original intention of paying for Abe’s lunch.
And next day Abe Hyman, for no reason at all, was fired.
The Archive of the Jewish Telegraphic Agency includes articles published from 1923 to 2008. Archive stories reflect the journalistic standards and practices of the time they were published.
