Page:Etta Block - One-act plays from the Yiddish (1923).pdf/52

 For years it has been lying up in the garret. I wonder who took it down from there?

So! It is your little box? Your mother does not let it out of her sight even for a second. She carries it about with her everywhere. Even when she goes to bed, it must be…

What!&emsp;(He runs to it, unlocks it with trembling fingers and takes out two richly-bound volumes and a photograph of himself, handsomely framed. On the covers of the books in gold letters is printed “Moshe Kranz, Poems.”)&emsp;My work! My photograph!

(A small packet drops out from among the contents of the box. Gitele picks it up. It is a packet of letters, very carefully tied together with a silk ribbon. Moshele snatches it from her and glances them over hurriedly.)

My letters! All my letters! And I thought she did not even read them. She does love me! My mother loves me!&emsp;(He snatches up one of the books and shows it to them.)&emsp;See, the poems that only last week came from the press! To Vilna—where I live—she went!&emsp;(He embraces Gitele impetuously.)&emsp;I have a mother! She traveled specially to Vilna to get my books! You hear, Gitele? Gitele, my mother loves me! My dearest mother!&emsp;(He attempts to go to her, but the doctor bars the way.)