The tide of social culture sweeps literally upward with the grade in San Francisco, dropping inadequacies on the way. The tide of Jewish social culture runs its mimic parallel alongside of it, mounting hill for hill, matching inadequacy with inadequacy. Yet science proves that, this side infinity, parallels never meet.
And thereby hangs the comedy.
“If it takes six generations from the hod, or pick and shovel, to make a gentleman of an ordinary American,” asked the wag, “how many generations from the Ghetto does it take to make a gentleman of a Jew?”1
“Bah!” said Philip May, contemptuously, “what have I to do with Ghettoes!”
And thereby also hangs the comedy, or—what you will—according to your light.