We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
68 THE HOUSE THAT SHADOWS BUILT
Kaufmann found herself straining her eyes at the horizon. She and Herman Kaufmann pondered on other things. All her daughters were growing up beautiful; they would marry some day, of course. And into what . . . farm drudgery. . . .
So after six years of rough pioneering, the Kaufmanns pulled up stakes and moved back to Chicago, where Herman reentered the clothing business. They had three daughters by now. Two of them, Ninna and Lottie, were bom in Hungary; Julie had first seen the light in that sod house. Frances, the baby of the family, came after they moved back to the city. All these daughters were to marry well — exceptionally well — giving their pioneer mother a serene and happy old age. Of their two remaining sons, the eldest died soon after their removal. But A1 Kaufmann survived to enter the nobility of the moving picture.
Meantime, Morris Kohn had climbed out of the mck. At about the time when he finished paying off his debt to Beifeld, he turned his attention to the cumbersome cutting machine with which his shop formed the raw shapes of men’s garments. It was an unsatisfactory instrument. Morris glowed always to mechanics. Stitching at his table, he conceived a revolutionary improvement. With his first savings, he got his device patented. Tried out at Beifeld’s, it worked beautifully. Raising a little capital on his prospects, Morris Kohn journeyed to New York and put his invention on the market.