What was contained in the outraged consciousness of the son of the Grand Rabbi at the moment when four young men regarded his naked body with disapproval, poking it in tender spots? Not only was he the son of a Grand Rabbi and even the grandson of a Grand Rabbi but he was a Grand Rabbi himself; his name was Jehuda Leib Twersky, he was of venerable age, he came from Antwerp and he had a long, black, fluffy beard. The only clue to his thoughts was a remark he made when it was all over: “I believe that it was the most wretched experience of my whole life.”
Before blaming the young men, it is necessary to consider what had preceded their inquisitive prodding. They were members of an organization which has long been considered among the most befuddled and the least efficient in the U. S., a customs inspecting squad whose special duty it is to prevent the smuggling of diamonds. How unsuccessful this organization has been may be understood from the complaints of reputable jewelers. Pointing out that they must pay 20% duty on cut diamonds and 10% duty on uncut ones, they show that disreputable jewelers, who buy from smugglers, can undersell them with ill-gotten gems. It is alleged that $40,000,000 changes hands yearly in diamond smuggling commerce; and the reputable jewelers have lately suggested the solution, highly insulting to the customs officials, that since the duties cannot be enforced, a return be made to the 1909 tariff rates of 10% for cut and free entry for uncut stones.
This was the situation last week when, to the intense surprise of inspectors and culprits alike, a vast spectacular smuggling enterprise was discovered. Involved in the enterprise were four people; a jeweler, his pretty daughter, a traffic policeman named Mclntyre and the Chief Steward of the Cunard ship, Berengaria; its operations had brought $1,000,000 worth of diamonds illicitly into the U. S. The jeweler, Morris Landau, was unregenerate on discovery; his daughter Frances had hysterical remorse; the traffic policeman appeared innocently bewildered and spoke of the many important friends he had, among them William B. Leeds Jr. and “Stitch” McCarthy, the so-called Mayor of Chinatown, Manhattan. Had they happened first upon anyone of these, the detectives might have remained baffled; but instead, after many sleuthing trips across the Atlantic, during which he had amused them with songs and served them with refreshments, they had come to suspect the Chief Steward of the Berengaria, William Ballyn.
Entering his cabin last week, they found, as they had hoped, several packets of diamonds. These the steward intended to give to Mclntyre, the policeman; Mclntyre would give them to Frances Landau and she would give them to her father, who would sell them to bedizened women. In addition to the gems, they found the chief steward, a tall, good looking man, popular with all Berengaria passengers, whose income from tips was $15,000 a year, whose valet was Thomas Crossley Earnshaw, who had a wife and a cottage in Southampton, England, and who had been a Cunard employe for 20 years. On the Berengaria, he had managed a glee club as well as his smuggling racket; when accused of the latter he broke down and wept piteously, asserting that he had received $100 for each packet and had carried only twelve in the last two years. Overjoyed, the customs men hauled him off to prison.
Then, realizing that $39,000,000 worth of diamonds still remained to be accounted for, they looked for new victims. Antwerp is one of the two capitals of diamonds. Hence they looked for a passenger from Antwerp. On the White Star liner Olympic lists, they found the name of Grand Rabbi Jehuda Leib Twersky. Hence, oh landing, they ducked into his cabin, ran a comb through the silky mesh of his beard and made him uncover his wrinkled body to their gaze.
The prodding of the Grand Rabbi began, and the rude inspectors noted two small leather boxes which he carried with particular care. If it is difficult to estimate the Grand Rabbi’s reactions, it is easy to understand the immediate suppositions of the young inspectors. “Open those boxes,” they cried. “No,” answered the Grand Rabbi. “I won’t. Not those.” The young men therefore opened the boxes themselves and discovered in them the laws of Moses but not a single diamond. They were the Grand Rabbi’s precious tvillim.*
Having thus rudely probed his tvillim, the young men apologized to Grand Rabbi Leib Twersky publicly whereat he observed, “This is a strange country but I like “it.” There were no further smuggling arrests last week.
* Phylacteries (little leather boxes), which are worn during certain prayers, one on the left arm, the other on the forehead, by Orthodox Jews in obedience to Deuteronomy, XI, 18: “Lay up these my words in your heart and in your soul, and bind them for a sign upon your hand, that they may be as frontlets between your eyes.” Among other scriptural writings contained in the tvillim are these: “This is done because of that which the Lord did unto me when I came forth out of Egypt” (Exodus, XIII, 6), and “What nation is there so great, that hath statutes and judgments as righteous as all this law?” (Deuteronomy, IV, 8).
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