A lovely young Jewish girl was employed by a clothing firm in New York. She and her widowed mother shared the same ambition: marriage to a wealthy man. One day she returned from work, eyes red from crying. As soon as she entered the apartment she called, “MAMA, I’m pregnant! Don’t get excited. The father is my boss.” She began to sob uncontrollably while her mother tried to console her. The next morning, the mother charged into the office of the boss. “YOU,” she shouted, “What’s going to be?” The elegantly attired man, handsome and unmarried and in his mid thirties, held up his hand: “Please take a seat, Mrs. Horowitz. I’m making all the arrangements. Your daughter will have the best doctor money can buy before the baby is born. She’ll be in the best hospital. And afterward, I am arranging for a trust fund for her where she will receive a check for twenty five hundred dollars a week.” The mother was taken aback and thought for a moment. “Tell me,” she said, “God forbid, she should have a miscarriage, will you give her another chance?”
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