[The Promised Land by Mary Antin]@TWC D-Link bookThe Promised Land CHAPTER VIII 4/30
The policemen in Castle Garden take all their money from the passengers as they land, unless the travellers deny having any. And so on, and so on, till my poor mother was completely bewildered. And as the day set for our departure approached, the people came oftener and stayed longer, and rehearsed my mother in long messages for their friends in America, praying that she deliver them promptly on her arrival, and without fail, and might God bless her for her kindness, and she must be sure and write them how she found their friends. Hayye Dvoshe, the wig-maker, for the eleventh time repeating herself, to my mother, still patiently attentive, thus:-- "Promise me, I beg you.
I don't sleep nights for thinking of him. Emigrated to America eighteen months ago, fresh and well and strong, with twenty-five ruble in his pocket, besides his steamer ticket, with new phylacteries, and a silk skull-cap, and a suit as good as new,--made it only three years before,--everything respectable, there could be nothing better;--sent one letter, how he arrived in Castle Garden, how well he was received by his uncle's son-in-law, how he was conducted to the baths, how they bought him an American suit, everything good, fine, pleasant;--wrote how his relative promised him a position in his business--a clothing merchant is he--makes gold,--and since then not a postal card, not a word, just as if he had vanished, as if the earth had swallowed him.
_Oi, weh!_ what haven't I imagined, what haven't I dreamed, what haven't I lamented! Already three letters have I sent--the last one, you know, you yourself wrote for me, Hannah Hayye, dear--and no answer.
Lost, as if in the sea!" And after the application of a corner of her shawl to eyes and nose, Hayye Dvoshe, continuing:-- "So you will go into the newspaper, and ask them what has become of my Moeshele, and if he isn't in Castle Garden, maybe he went up to Balti-moreh,--it's in the neighborhood, you know,--and you can tell them, for a mark, that he has a silk handkerchief with his monogram in Russian, that his betrothed embroidered for him before the engagement was broken.
And may God grant you an easy journey, and may you arrive in a propitious hour, and may you find your husband well, and strong, and rich, and may you both live to lead your children to the wedding canopy, and may America shower gold on you.
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