pugilist who assaulted our boy friend. Really, Hershel didn't seem able to cope with any of them!
A couple of months came and went before I had the extreme pleasure of gazing upon Hershel's battered features again. However, he strolled into the lobby one day, swapped a few lies with Pete and Jerry and then roamed over to me.
"Vell, how's all the telephone numbaires today, eh?" is his greeting.
"Busy," I says. "How's our champion?"
"Not so good!" says Hershel. "Ven I lost that name Kid Rose I lost plenty! I couldn't fight no more vitout it. Y'know, all this time I been used to bein' introduced to the customaires as Kid Rose. Vell, now the announcer says, 'Over here, ve have Hersel Rosenberg, the Divin' Venus!' and that kind of upsets my, now, stomach, I ain't used my real name for so long that I couldn't even get knocked out properly vit it."
"How's Ike?" I asked him.
"I should care!" growls Hershel. "There's a brother! You seen vot he done in that fight we had in Joisey City. He's afraid to take a chance, vit me in a long fight, so he goes to vork and knocks me out in the, now, foist round. Honest, he vos scared stiff!"
"But you were knocked stiff!" I gently reminded him, "Hershel, why don't you give up boxing and stick to bellhopping? It's less wearing on the features
