Cabin 228 of the S. S. Vulcania housed a happy combination of May and December, Friday afternoon.
Jay Arthur Pritzker, aged eleven and one-half years, and his grandfather, Nicholas Pritzker, 63, were starting on their first tour together to Palestine, Russia, Greece and Turkey.
The trip is a reward from grandpa to grandson for the latter’s exceptional brightness in his studies. Despite the boy’s extreme youth he has already completed his freshman year in high school.
Surrounded by his grandparents, parents and a younger brother of eight who looked on with envious eyes, Jay Arthur revealed some of his impressions on the eve of this momentous experience in his life. Chubby of body and unspectacled, Jay Arthur is an athletic type with a rather shy lovable manner. His dark eyes seemed to take in everything.
“Gosh,” he mumbled under his breath, looking around the snug cabin, “This sure is swell,” His face glowed with delight as he spied the portholes through which the gray river glistened. “And look, Mom,” he shouted, “a bathroom right next to us all for ourselves.”
But his countenance fell when he observed the beds. “Say, pop, how’s this—no bunks? Beds just like we have at home.”
His father explained that beds would prove more comfortable. He would be less likely to fall out when the sea grew too rough. Somewhat reconciled Jay settled down in a chair prepared to answer the reporter’s questions.
“I???LL MISS THEM, ALL RIGHT”
“How do you feel about leaving your parents for the first time?” He loked thoughtful for a moment. “I’ll miss them, all right, but my two little brothers will keep them busy. And they promised to write me often.”
“Is this the first time you have ever seen an ocean liner?” (Jay hails from Chicago.) “Yes,—and golly did you see those decks and the big pipes,—and the sailors and all? I just can’t wait till the boat starts.”
“Aren’t you afraid of being seasick?” “Aw, no. Mom told me not to eat too much so I’ll stay well,” he answered.
“What do you think of New York, is it nicer than Chicago?” “Too crowded,” declared Jay solemnly. “But Radio City is great. And I saw a good picture while I was here too. “The House of Rothschild’ I liked it a lot.”
Jay Arthur confessed that his favorite study is “math,” his most beloved author Dumas, whose story “The Count of Monte Cristo” he has read several times. His hobby is collecting American pennies. He hopes to become a lawyer like his father and grandfather before him and enjoys playing tennis better than all other sports, He admitted that he looks forward to seeing Russia because “I want to find out what is happening there. How they are making out with their new kind of government.”
OFF HE PRANCED
“Then pardon me,” said he, jumping up and lightly tipping his hat, “I must say good-bye now to my father and mother.” And off he pranced between them.
Grandfather Pritzker was less communicative. He came to the United States from Kiev, Russia, fifty-three years ago, he said. He practiced law in Chicago for thirty-five years. He intends now to visit Palestine to see the grave of his grandparents. He believes that the trip will be a valuable educational experience for his grandson in that it will furnish a first hand opportunity to observe the social and political changes now taking place in the old world.
Suddenly the ship’s whistle sounded anchor aweigh. On deck Jay hugged his little brother tight to his chest. He did not kiss him (“too sissy like,” he said.)
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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.
