The same state of facts accounts in large degree for the connection between a man like Tim Sullivan and the Jews. “Tim,” as everyone knew him, was leader of a district inhabited by Irish and Germans. Then the Jews came in. And then began the Jews’ practice of profiting by the people’s dislike of them. Foreign Jews well know that they are disliked. It is one of their assets which never fails to produce dividends. They choose the part of the city where they desire to live, and a few move in. Their immediate neighbors move out. More Jews move in—more of the others move out. The property nearest the Jews always goes down in value. People will sell at a loss rather than live engulfed in a ghetto. It was so in Tim Sullivan’s district. As the Jews swarmed in, the Irish and Germans fled north. Sullivan stood his ground. It was his old territory, he would not leave it, nor remove his family. He cultivated the new arrivals and made a partnership with the ex-kosher chicken butcher, Martin Engel. The Jews lived under Sullivan’s rule for a time, awaiting the moment when they should know what to do for themselves. The Yiddish flood increased until the district was crowded, and then the Jews demanded representation for themselves. With a premonition that a new force had arisen, Tim Sullivan played safe and helped the Jews to get recognition—Martin Engel was made leader of the old Eighth. But Sullivan had previously gone to Tammany—or to what remained of the old non-Jewish Tammany—and exacted an understanding that his rule should be left unchanged below Fourteenth street. From that time forward, in spite of the understanding, Sullivan’s power began to wane, principally because he continued to get in deeper and deeper with the Jews. He went into Jewish lines of business. He formed a theatrical partnership with George Kraus, among his enterprises being the Imperial Music Hall, the Dewey Theater, and the traveling Eagle Burlesque Company. Still the old district continued to become crowded and overcrowded and saturated with Yiddish newcomers, for whom neither the name Sullivan nor the traditions of the district had any meaning. In his closing years, scarcely more than a hanger-on around the former scene of his power, Tim Sullivan bitterly lamented the ease with which he was led into associations that undermined his power. Croker was destroyed in public confidence by the terrific shock of the exposure attending the Jewish “cadet” activities. Sullivan, equally picturesque, was the slowly shoved-out victim of Jewish infiltration. There were other occurrences and other downfalls, all of which are a part of the real story of Tammany. —— Issue of September 24, 1921.