Later on it became too much of a hassle those scrubbing sessions on Saturday afternoons and the decision was made that Dad would take the older boys to the public bathing house in the neighbourhood on Nassau Square. It had two entrances, one for males and the other for females, separated in the middle by a laundry.
There were half a dozen or so shower cubicles at one side and opposite a long bench were you had to wait for your turn while taking in the communal smells and sounds, the whole place was steamed up like a bad fog.
If I remember it right, for 25cents you were given about ten minutes, to undress and throw your clothes over the swinging door and to soap and rinse yourself. The first few times we would go together and learned how to use the time well and discreetly observe a disrobed adult frame.
Fridays or Saturdays were also designated to clean and polish the windows, doorbells, etc. Less regularly attended to were the heavy flat brass rods on the staircase that kept the runner in its place. The rods were slid out of their eye sockets, one by one, and the runner rolled up and taken outside for some blows with the rattan carpet beater.
Mind you this carpet beater made other contacts too, when Mum was tired of carping her unruly offspring. However we usually outrun her punishing hand.