Yesterday my mother showed me a fifth that had arrived in the mail from a cousin in California.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7TOYN9HFqfDCJHnsA0joL1Ivp1m3Z_IKD9K6fPUQSIfP4s06Ji6gyKYqE2dS3x3s3ceKThmJJZME3EDbE1oC2D_qqZiESonazHhI_p6Zhn-ahsUv3d9LGBE8xCUJMyYcYva4JpEyDQzgj/s320/MorrisBlatt.jpg)
The photo comes from the collection of Blanche's youngest daughter, Belle.
Morris looks like a wealthy dandy in this picture. He wasn't. Like a few other great grandfathers, he was a tailor. And you would expect a tailor to wear well-tailored clothing. (Would anyone trust a shabbily-dressed tailor?)
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