The Melting-Pot Part 2

KATHLEEN Then why don't ye come inside? It's freezin' me to the bone.

[_She sneezes._]

Atchoo!

VERA I'm sorry.

[_She comes in and closes the door_]

Will you please say Miss Revendal called from the Settlement, and we are anxiously awaiting his answer to the letter asking him to play for us on----

KATHLEEN What way will I be tellin' him all that? I'm not here.

VERA Eh?

KATHLEEN I'm lavin'--just as soon as I've me thrunk packed.

VERA Then I must _write_ the message--can I write at this desk?

KATHLEEN If the ould woman don't come in and shpy you.

VERA What old woman?

KATHLEEN Ould Mr. Quixano's mother--she wears a black wig, she's that houly.

VERA [_Bewildered_]

What?... But why should she mind my writing?

KATHLEEN Look at the clock.

[_VERA looks at the clock, more puzzled than ever._]

If ye're not quick, it'll be _Shabbos_.

VERA Be what?

KATHLEEN [_Holds up hands of horror_]

Ye don't know what _Shabbos_ is! A Jewess not know her own Sunday!

VERA [_Outraged_]

I, a Jewess! How dare you?

KATHLEEN [_Fl.u.s.tered_]

Axin' your pardon, miss, but ye looked a bit furrin and I----

VERA [_Frozen_]

I am a Russian.

[_Slowly and dazedly_]

Do I understand that Mr. Quixano is a Jew?

KATHLEEN Two Jews, miss. Both of 'em.

VERA Oh, but it is impossible.

[_Dazedly to herself_]

He had such charming manners.

[_Aloud again_]

You seem to think everybody Jewish. Are you sure Mr. Quixano is not Spanish?--the name sounds Spanish.

KATHLEEN Shpanis.h.!.+

[_She picks up the old Hebrew book on the armchair._]

Look at the ould lady's book. Is that Shpanish?

[_She points to the Mizrach._]

And that houly picture the ould lady says her pater-noster to! Is that Shpanish? And that houly table-cloth with the houly silver candle---- [_Cry of sudden astonishment_]

Why, I've ounly put---- [_She looks toward mantel and utters a great cry of alarm as she drops the Hebrew book on the floor._]

Why, where's the other candleshtick! Mother in hivin, they'll say I shtole the candleshtick!

[_Perceiving that VERA is dazedly moving toward door_]

Beggin' your pardon, miss---- [_She is about to move a chair toward the desk._]

VERA Thank you, I've changed my mind.

KATHLEEN That's more than I'll do.

VERA [_Hand on door_]

Don't say I called at all.

KATHLEEN Plaze yerself. What name did ye say?

[_MENDEL enters hastily from his bedroom, completely transmogrified, minus the skull-cap, with a Prince Albert coat, and boots instead of slippers, so that his appearance is gentlemanly. KATHLEEN begins to search quietly and unostentatiously in the table-drawers, the chiffonier, etc., etc., for the candlestick._

MENDEL I am sorry if I have kept you waiting---- [_He rubs his hands importantly._]

You see I have so many pupils already. Won't you sit down?

[_He indicates a chair._]

VERA [_Flus.h.i.+ng, embarra.s.sed, releasing her hold of the door handle_]

Thank you--I--I--I didn't come about pianoforte lessons.

MENDEL [_Sighing in disappointment_]

_Ach!_

VERA In fact I--er--it wasn't you I wanted at all--I was just going.

MENDEL [_Politely_]

Perhaps I can direct you to the house you are looking for.

VERA Thank you, I won't trouble you.

[_She turns toward the door again._]

MENDEL Allow me!

[_He opens the door for her._]

VERA [_Hesitating, struck by his manners, struggling with her anti-Jewish prejudice_]

It--it--was your son I wanted.

MENDEL [_His face lighting up_]

You mean my nephew, David. Yes, _he_ gives violin lessons.

[_He closes the door._]