Page 81 - The Legacy of Abraham Rothstein - text

Idling in Pelcovizna
pool was heated by steam from the boiler. I used to hang around his
place, helping him rivet and solder—I had a desire to do mechanical
things, but there was no outlet for my energy in that small town.
Here in these United States, with its industries, even in a small town,
boys go away from home to find a place to work and learn a trade,
but in the old country we stuck to the family and remained for
generations in the same rut without progress toward a decent living.
Another thing which held a boy back from learning a trade was the
parents’ pride in having a pious and learned son, who would marry
the daughter of a well-to-do Jew and be provided for. Such a boy
would be ashamed to play ball, run a race, swim or fish.
Fishing in the Vistula River was not like fishing in this country,
where people can fish sitting down in boats, on piers or concrete
walls, using good long fishing poles with mechanical contrivances to
cast the line for a long distance out into the water and then draw it in
when any size fish is hooked on the barb. We had to make our pole
from a tree branch or reed, which could not be very long to stand
much bending; the twine was just common binding material, and the
hooks were mostly made from a bent dress pin. Working mainly with
a float of goose quill, we had to stand close to or in the water; when
we had a bite, we had to pull it in very quickly so as not to drop the
catch off the pin. And fish were not as plentiful in the Vistula, which
ran quite fast in our region. Perch, smelts, whitefish, or other small
varieties could be caught there, enough in one day for one man’s
meal. Where money is scant and hunger is prevalent, a few little fish
and a few potatoes, which the gourmet would disdain, will satisfy the
hungry.
Fish were scarce in Warsaw on weekdays, because our river had
not enough to supply the demand. We did receive fish from Russia,
which had an abundance. The Volga and the Don in southern Russia
supplied Warsaw with the finest fresh water fish—and very large
ones, also. Summer or winter, in all seasons of the year, a fish market
was held on Thursday in Warsaw at the “Iron Gate.” Fish came in
from the train packed in ice and were retailed directly from the reed
packing cases. In a few hours it was all sold out, and no more could
be bought until next Thursday. The Jewish population bought for the
Sabbath meal, and some Catholics bought for Friday. The fish that

77