Even when the language was English the letters were Hebrew.

Whitechapel, Public Meeting, Board School, Sermon, Police, and other modern banalities, glared at the passer-by in the sacred guise of the Tongue associated with miracles and prophecies, palm-trees and cedars and seraphs, lions and shepherds and harpists.
Moses stopped to read these hybrid posters--he had nothing better to do--as he slouched along.

He did not care to remember that dinner was due in two hours.

He turned aimlessly into Wentworth Street, and studied a placard that hung in a bootmaker's window.

This was the announcement it made in jargon: Riveters, Clickers, Lasters, Finishers, Wanted.
BARUCH EMANUEL, Cobbler.
Makes and Repairs Boots.
Every Bit as Cheaply as MORDECAI SCHWARTZ, of 12 Goulston Street.
Mordecai Schwartz was written in the biggest and blackest of Hebrew letters, and quite dominated the little shop-window.