Frank Borzage

“ Then a cablegram told that Leon was on his way home.
"For why, mamma, get all tired out and make yourself little before the cooks?"
"For shame, papa! That maybe our boy comes home on his birthday—and not have a cake made by his own mamma's hands."
"All right—all right—drive me crazy because he's got a birthday."
"It's Leon!"
"Mamma! He's an officer!"
"I bet my boy is a General!"
"I was your son's buddy in France..."
"No, he is here. They have just brought him over on a hospital ship—wounded—"
Months of suffering had driven the daylight from the mind of Leon Kantor. ”

“ Their children grown, and now polished like the brasses of their old Allen Street shop.
A great unrest had torn at Leon's heart ever since Europe unleashed her grim hounds of war.
And now, America was calling her own young men. ”

“ So, we shall have another feedler in the family for some thirty-cent lessons out of my pants while I sleep!"
"It's come, Abrahm—the dream of my life—my prayers—it's come!"
"I knew it must be one of my children, if I prayed long enough. He cried for a violon! My baby—a musician!"
"Always a moosician! Why not you should sometimes pray for a business man—maybe in brasses like his papa?" ”