The Melting-Pot

heard throughout the scene as a sort of musical accompaniment,

has combined to work it up to a mood of intense sadness,

intensified by the growing dusk, so that as the two now gaze at

the falling snow, the atmosphere seems overbrooded with

melancholy. There is a moment or two without dialogue, given over

to the sobbing of FRAU QUIXANO, the roar of the wind shaking the

windows, the quick falling of the snow. Suddenly a happy voice

singing 'My Country 'tis of Thee' is heard from without.]

FRAU QUIXANO [Pricking up her ears, joyously]

Do ist Dovidel!

MENDEL

That's David!

[He springs up.]

VERA [Murmurs in relief]

Ah!

[The whole atmosphere is changed to one of joyous expectation,

DAVID is seen and heard passing the left window, still singing

the national hymn, but it breaks off abruptly as he throws open

the door and appears on the threshold, a buoyant snow-covered

figure in a cloak and a broad-brimmed hat, carrying a violin

case. He is a sunny, handsome youth of the finest Russo-Jewish

type. He speaks with a slight German accent.]

DAVID

Isn't it a beautiful world, uncle?

[He closes the inner door.] Snow, the divine white snow--

[Perceiving the visitor with amaze] Miss Revendal here!

[He removes his hat and looks at her with boyish reverence and

wonder.]

VERA [Smiling]

Don't look so surprised-I haven't fallen from heaven like the snow. Take off your wet things.

DAVID

Oh, it's nothing; it's dry snow.

[He lays down his violin case and brushes off the snow from his

cloak, which MENDEL takes from him and hangs on the rack, all

without interrupting the dialogue.] If I had only known you were waiting--

VERA

I am glad you didn't-I wouldn't have had those poor little cripples cheated out of a moment of your music.

DAVID

Uncle has told you? Ah, it was bully! You should have seen the cripples waltzing with their crutches!

[He has moved toward the old woman, and while he holds one hand

to the blaze now pats her cheek with the other in greeting, to

which she responds with a loving smile ere she settles

contentedly to slumber over her book.] Es war grossartig, Granny. Even the paralysed danced.

MENDEL

Don't exaggerate, David.

DAVID

Exaggerate, uncle! Why, if they hadn't the use of their legs, their arms danced on the counterpane; if their arms couldn't dance, their hands danced from the wrist; and if their hands couldn't dance, they danced with their fingers; and if their fingers couldn't dance, their heads danced; and if their heads were paralysed, why, their eyes danced-God never curses so utterly but you've something left to dance with!

[He moves toward his desk.]

VERA [Infected with his gaiety]

You'll tell us next the beds danced.

DAVID

So they did-they shook their legs like mad!

VERA

Oh, why wasn't I there?

[His eyes meet hers at the thought of her presence.]

DAVID

Dear little cripples, I felt as if I could play them all straight again with the love and joy jumping out of this old fiddle.

[He lays his hand caressingly on the violin.]

MENDEL [Gloomily]

But in reality you left them as crooked as ever.

DAVID

No, I didn't.

[He caresses the back of his uncle's head in affectionate

rebuke.] I couldn't play their bones straight, but I played their brains straight. And hunch- brains are worse than hunch-backs....

[Suddenly perceiving his letter on the desk] A letter for me!

[He takes it with boyish eagerness, then hesitates to open it.]

VERA [Smiling]

Oh, you may open it!

DAVID [Wistfully]

May I?

VERA [Smiling]

Yes, and quick-or it'll be Shabbos!

[DAVID looks up at her in wonder.]

MENDEL [Smiling]

You read your letter!

DAVID [Opens it eagerly, then smiles broadly with pleasure. ]

Oh, Miss Revendal! Isn't that great! To play again at your Settlement. I am getting famous.

VERA

But we can't offer you a fee.

MENDEL [Quickly sotto voce to VERA]

Thank you!

DAVID

A fee! I'd pay a fee to see all those happy immigrants you gather together-Dutchmen and Greeks, Poles and Norwegians, Welsh and Armenians. If you only had Jews, it would be as good as going to Ellis Island.

VERA [Smiling]

What a strange taste! Who on earth wants to go to Ellis Island?

DAVID

Oh, I love going to Ellis Island to watch the ships coming in from Europe, and to think that all those weary, sea-tossed wanderers are feeling what I felt when America first stretched out her great mother-hand to me!