A fellow countryman had lent her money to
pay the hotel bill, telling her she could pay it
back after she had joined her husband. And
so we had passed through the gateway of the
New World as thousands of other poor fam-
ilies had done. And our temporary hard-
46



HUNTING FOR LOST CHILDREN

ships had been no greater than most immi-
grants encountered in those days.
I later learned from a Bohemian of the
trials his mother met with on her first days in
New York. He told me that she and her three
children, the smallest a babe in arms, tramped
the streets of New York for days looking in
vain for some one who could speak their
native tongue. They slept at night in door-
ways, and by day wandered timid and terri-
fied through the streets.
"At last a saloon-keeper saw that we were
famishing," the Bohemian told me. "He was
a — a — Oh, what do you call them in your
language? I can think of the Bohemian word
but not the EngUsh."

"What was he like?" I asked to help find
the word. "Red-headed? Tall? Fat?"

"No; he was one of those people who
usually run clothing stores and are always
having a 'SALE.' "

"Jew," I said.
