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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Elkan Lubliner, American + +Author: Montague Glass + +Release Date: December 5, 2008 [EBook #27423] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELKAN LUBLINER, AMERICAN *** + + + + +Produced by C. St. Charleskindt, Suzanne Shell and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>ELKAN LUBLINER, AMERICAN</h1> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 375px"> +<img src="images/elkancover.jpg" width="375" height="600" alt="Cover" title="Cover" /> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h1>ELKAN LUBLINER,<br /> +AMERICAN</h1> + +<div class="center"> +<span class="smcap">By MONTAGUE GLASS</span> +<br /> +<br /> +AUTHOR OF<br /> +"Potash & Perlmutter," "Abe & Mawruss,"<br /> +"Object: Matrimony," etc. +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px"> +<img src="images/fructusquamfolia.jpg" width="150" height="150" alt="FRUCTUS QUAM FOLIA" title="FRUTCUS QUAM FOLIA" /> +</div> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Garden City New York</span><br /> +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY<br /> +1912<br /> + +<hr /> + +<br /><i>Copyright, 1911, 1912, by</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">The Curtis Publishing Company</span> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>Copyright, 1912, by</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">Doubleday, Page & Co.</span><br /> +<i>All rights reserved, including that of<br /> +translation into foreign languages,<br /> +including the Scandinavian</i> +</div> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents"> +<tr><td> </td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td class="lt"><a href="#CHAPTER_ONE">Noblesse Oblige</a></td><td class="rt">3</td></tr> +<tr><td class="lt"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWO">Appenweier's Account</a></td><td class="rt">33</td></tr> +<tr><td class="lt"><a href="#CHAPTER_THREE">A Match for Elkan Lubliner</a></td><td class="rt">81</td></tr> +<tr><td class="lt"><a href="#CHAPTER_FOUR">Highgrade Lines</a></td><td class="rt">147</td></tr> +<tr><td class="lt"><a href="#CHAPTER_FIVE">One of Esau's Fables</a></td><td class="rt">196</td></tr> +<tr><td class="lt"><a href="#CHAPTER_SIX">A Tale of Two Jacobean Chairs</a></td><td class="rt">250</td></tr> +<tr><td class="lt"><a href="#CHAPTER_SEVEN">Sweet and Sour</a></td><td class="rt">288</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center">ELKAN LUBLINER, AMERICAN</p> + +<hr /> + +<h1><a name="ELKAN_LUBLINER" id="ELKAN_LUBLINER"></a>ELKAN LUBLINER</h1> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ONE" id="CHAPTER_ONE"></a>CHAPTER ONE</h2> +<h2>NOBLESSE OBLIGE</h2> +<h3>POLATKIN & SCHEIKOWITZ CONSERVE THE HONOUR OF THEIR FAMILIES</h3> +</div> + +<p class="dropcap">"NU, PHILIP," cried Marcus Polatkin to his partner, Philip +Scheikowitz, as they sat in the showroom of their place of +business one June morning, "even if the letter does got bad news +in it you shouldn't take on so hard. When a feller is making good +over here and the <i>Leute im Russland</i> hears about it, understand +me, they are all the time sending him bad news. I got in Minsk a +cousin by the name Pincus Lubliner, understand me, which every +time he writes me, y'understand, a relation dies on him and he +wants me I should help pay funeral expenses. You might think I +was a Free Burial Society, the way that feller acts."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Philip replied as he folded the letter away; "but +this here is something else again. Mind you, with his own +landlord he is sitting playing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +cards, Marcus, and comes a pistol +through the window and the landlord drops dead."</p> + +<p>"What have you got to do with the landlord?" Polatkin retorted. +"If it was your brother-in-law was killed that's a difference +matter entirely; but when a feller is a landlord <i>im Russland</i>, +understand me, the least he could expect is that he gets killed +once in a while."</p> + +<p>"I ain't saying nothing about the landlord," Philip protested, +"but my brother-in-law writes they are afraid for their lives +there and I should send 'em quick the passage money for him and +his boy Yosel to come to America."</p> + +<p>Polatkin rose to his feet and glared angrily at his partner.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to told me you are going to send that loafer money +he should come over here and bum round our shop yet?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean bum round our shop?" Philip demanded. "In the +first place, Polatkin, I ain't said I am going to send him money, +y'understand; and, in the second place, if I want to send the +feller money to come over here, understand me, that's my +business. Furthermore, when you are coming to call my +brother-in-law a loafer and a bum, Polatkin, you don't know what +you are talking about. His <i>Grossvater</i>, <i>olav hasholem</i>, was the +great Harkavy Rav, Jochannon Borrochson."</p> + +<p>"I heard that same tale before," Polatkin inter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>rupted. "A feller +is a <i>Schlemiel</i> and a lowlife which he couldn't support his wife +and children, understand me, and it always turns out his +grandfather was a big rabbi in the old country. The way it is +with me, Scheikowitz, just so soon as I am hearing a feller's +grandfather was a big rabbi in the old country, Scheikowitz, I +wouldn't got nothing more to do with him. If he works for you in +your place, understand me, then he fools away your time telling +the operators what a big rabbi his grandfather was; and if he's a +customer, Scheikowitz, and you write him ten days after the +account is overdue he should pay you what he owes you, instead he +sends you a check, understand me, he comes down to the store and +tells you what a big rabbi he's got it for a grandfather. <i>Gott +sei Dank</i> I ain't got no <i>Rabonim</i> in my family."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Philip cried, "your father would be glad +supposing he could sign his name even."</p> + +<p>Polatkin shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"It would <i>oser</i> worry me if my whole family couldn't read or +write. So long as I can sign my name and the money is in the bank +to make the check good from five to ten thousand dollars, +y'understand, what do I care if my grandfather would be deef, +dumb and blind, Scheikowitz? Furthermore, Scheikowitz, believe me +I would sooner got one good live business man for a partner, +Scheikowitz, than a million dead rabbis for a grand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>father, and +don't you forget it. So if you are going to spend the whole +morning making a <i>Geschreierei</i> over that letter, Scheikowitz, we +may as well close up the store <i>und fertig</i>."</p> + +<p>With this ultimatum Marcus Polatkin walked rapidly away toward +the cutting room, while Philip Scheikowitz sought the foreman of +their manufacturing department and borrowed a copy of a morning +paper. It was printed in the vernacular of the lower East Side, +and Philip bore it to his desk, where for more than half an hour +he alternately consulted the column of steamboat advertising and +made figures on the back of an envelope. These represented the +cost of a journey for two persons from Minsk to New York, based +on Philip's hazy recollection of his own emigration, fifteen +years before, combined with his experience as travelling salesman +in the Southern States for a popular-price line of pants.</p> + +<p>At length he concluded his calculations and with a heavy sigh he +put on his hat just as his partner returned from the cutting +room.</p> + +<p>"Nu!" Polatkin cried. "Where are you going now?"</p> + +<p>"I am going for a half an hour somewheres," Philip replied.</p> + +<p>"What for?" Polatkin demanded.</p> + +<p>"What for is my business," Philip answered.</p> + +<p>"Your business?" Polatkin exclaimed. "At nine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> o'clock in the +morning one partner puts on his hat and starts to go out, +<i>verstehst du</i>, and when the other partner asks him where he is +going it's his business, <i>sagt er</i>! What do you come down here at +all for, Scheikowitz?"</p> + +<p>"I am coming down here because I got such a partner, Polatkin, +which if I was to miss one day even I wouldn't know where I stand +at all," Scheikowitz retorted. "Furthermore, you shouldn't worry +yourself, Polatkin; for my own sake I would come back just so +soon as I could."</p> + +<p>Despite the offensive repartee that accompanied Philip's +departure, however, he returned to find Polatkin entirely +restored to good humour by a thousand-dollar order that had +arrived in the ten-o'clock mail; and as Philip himself felt the +glow of conscious virtue attendant upon a good deed economically +performed, he immediately fell into friendly conversation with +his partner.</p> + +<p>"Well, Marcus," he said, "I sent 'em the passage tickets, and if +you ain't agreeable that Borrochson comes to work here I could +easy find him a job somewheres else."</p> + +<p>"If we got an opening here, Philip, what is it skin off my face +if the feller comes to work here," Polatkin answered, "so long as +he gets the same pay like somebody else?"</p> + +<p>"What could I do, Marcus?" Philip rejoined, as he took off his +hat and coat preparatory to plunging<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> into the assortment of a +pile of samples. "My own flesh and blood I must got to look out +for, ain't it? And if my sister Leah, <i>olav hasholem</i>, would be +alive to-day I would of got 'em all over here long since ago +already. Ain't I am right?"</p> + +<p>Polatkin shrugged. "In family matters one partner couldn't advise +the other at all," he said.</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Philip concluded, "but when a feller has got such +a partner which he is a smart, up-to-date feller and means good +by his partner, understand me, then I got a right to take an +advice from him about family matters, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>And with these honeyed words the subject of the Borrochson +family's assisted emigration was dismissed until the arrival of +another letter from Minsk some four weeks later.</p> + +<p>"Well, Marcus," Philip cried after he had read it, "he'll be here +Saturday."</p> + +<p>"Who'll be here Saturday?" Polatkin asked.</p> + +<p>"Borrochson," Philip replied; "and the boy comes with him."</p> + +<p>Polatkin raised his eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you the honest truth, Philip," he said—"I'm surprised +to hear it."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean you're surprised to hear it?" Philip asked. +"Ain't I am sending him the passage tickets?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know you are sending him the tickets," Polatkin +continued, "but everybody says the same,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> Philip, and that's why +I am telling you, Philip, I'm surprised to hear he is coming; +because from what everybody is telling me it's a miracle the +feller ain't sold the tickets and gambled away the money."</p> + +<p>"What are you talking nonsense, selling the tickets!" Philip +cried indignantly. "The feller is a decent, respectable feller +even if he would be a poor man."</p> + +<p>"He ain't so poor," Polatkin retorted. "A thief need never got to +be poor, Scheikowitz."</p> + +<p>"A thief!" Philip exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"That's what I said," Polatkin went on, "and a smart thief too, +Scheikowitz. Gifkin says he could steal the buttons from a +policeman's pants and pass 'em off for real money, understand me, +and they couldn't catch him anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Gifkin?" Philip replied.</p> + +<p>"Meyer Gifkin which he is working for us now two years, +Scheikowitz, and a decent, respectable feller," Polatkin said +relentlessly. "If Gifkin tells you something you could rely on +it, Scheikowitz, and he is telling me he lives in Minsk one house +by the other with this feller Borrochson, and such a lowlife +gambler bum as this here feller Borrochson is you wouldn't +believe at all."</p> + +<p>"Meyer Gifkin says that?" Philip gasped.</p> + +<p>"So sure as he is working here as assistant cutter," Polatkin +continued. "And if you think that this here feller Borrochson +comes to work in our place,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> Scheikowitz, you've got another +think coming, and that's all I got to say."</p> + +<p>But Philip had not waited to hear the conclusion of his partner's +ultimatum, and by the time Polatkin had finished Philip was at +the threshold of the cutting room.</p> + +<p>"Gifkin!" he bellowed. "I want to ask you something a question."</p> + +<p>The assistant cutter laid down his shears.</p> + +<p>"What could I do for you, Mr. Scheikowitz?" he said respectfully.</p> + +<p>"You could put on your hat and coat and get out of here before I +kick you out," Philip replied without disclosing the nature of +his abandoned question. "And, furthermore, if my brother-in-law +Borrochson is such a lowlife bum which you say he is, when he is +coming here Saturday he would pretty near kill you, because, +Gifkin, a lowlife gambler and a thief could easily be a murderer +too. <i>Aber</i> if he ain't a such thief and gambler which you say he +is, then I would make you arrested."</p> + +<p>"Me arrested?" Gifkin cried. "What for?"</p> + +<p>"Because for calling some one a thief which he ain't one you +could sit in prison," Scheikowitz concluded. "So you should get +right out of here before I am sending for a policeman."</p> + +<p>"But, Mr. Scheikowitz," Gifkin protested, "who did I told it your +brother-in-law is a thief and a gambler?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>"You know very well who you told it," Scheikowitz retorted. "You +told it my partner, Gifkin. That's who you told it."</p> + +<p>"But I says to him he shouldn't tell nobody," Gifkin continued. +"Is it my fault your partner is such a <i>Klatsch</i>? And, anyhow, +Mr. Scheikowitz, supposing I did say your brother-in-law is a +gambler and a thief, I know what I'm talking about; and, +furthermore, if I got to work in a place where I couldn't open my +mouth at all, Mr. Scheikowitz, I don't want to work there, and +that's all there is to it."</p> + +<p>He assumed his hat and coat in so dignified a manner that for the +moment Scheikowitz felt as though he were losing an old and +valued employee, and this impression was subsequently heightened +by Polatkin's behaviour when he heard of Gifkin's departure. +Indeed a casual observer might have supposed that Polatkin's +wife, mother, and ten children had all perished in a common +disaster and that the messenger had been indiscreet in breaking +the news, for during a period of almost half an hour Polatkin +rocked and swayed in his chair and beat his forehead with his +clenched fist.</p> + +<p>"You are shedding my blood," he moaned to Scheikowitz.</p> + +<p>"What the devil you are talking nonsense!" Scheikowitz declared. +"The way you are acting you would think we are paying the feller +five thou<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>sand dollars a year instead of fifteen dollars a week."</p> + +<p>"It ain't what a feller makes from you, Scheikowitz; it's what +you make from him what counts," he wailed. "Gifkin was really +worth to us a year five thousand dollars."</p> + +<p>"Five thousand buttons!" Scheikowitz cried. "You are making a big +fuss about nothing at all."</p> + +<p>But when the next day Polatkin and Scheikowitz heard that Gifkin +had found employment with their closest competitors Philip began +to regret the haste with which he had discharged his assistant +cutter, and he bore his partner's upbraidings in chastened +silence. Thus by Friday afternoon Polatkin had exhausted his +indignation.</p> + +<p>"Well, Philip," he said as closing-time approached, "it ain't no +use crying over sour milk. What time does the boat arrive?"</p> + +<p>"To-night," Philip replied, "and the passengers comes off the +island to-morrow. Why did you ask?"</p> + +<p>"Because," Marcus said with the suspicion of a blush, "Saturday +ain't such a busy day and I was thinking I would go over with +you. Might I could help you out."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Philip's trip with his partner to Ellis Island the following +morning tried his temper to the point where he could barely +refrain from inquiring if the expected immigrant were his +relation or Polatkin's,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> for during the entire journey Marcus +busied himself making plans for the Borrochsons' future.</p> + +<p>"The first thing you got to look out for with a greenhorn, +Philip," he said, "is that you learn 'em good the English +language. If a feller couldn't talk he couldn't do nothing, +understand me, so with the young feller especially you shouldn't +give him no encouragement to keep on talking <i>Manerloschen</i>." +Philip nodded politely.</p> + +<p>"Look at me for instance," Marcus continued; "six months after I +landed, Philip, I am speaking English already just so good as a +doctor or a lawyer. And how did I done it? To night school I am +going only that they should learn me to write, <i>verstehst du</i>, +<i>aber</i> right at the start old man Feinrubin takes me in hand and +he talks to me only in English. And if I am understanding him, +<i>schon gut</i>; and if I don't understand him then he gives me a +<i>potch</i> on the side of the head, Philip, which the next time he +says it I could understand him good. And that's the way you +should do with the young feller, Philip. I bet yer he would a +damsight sooner learn English as get a <i>Schlag</i> every ten +minutes."</p> + +<p>Again Philip nodded, and by the time they had arrived at the +enclosure for the relations of immigrants he had become so +accustomed to the hum of Marcus' conversation that he refrained +from uttering even a perfunctory "Uh-huh." They sat on a hard +bench for more than half an hour, while the attend<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>ants bawled +the common surnames of every country from Ireland to Asiatic +Turkey, and at length the name Borrochson brought Philip to his +feet. He rushed to the gateway, followed by Marcus, just as a +stunted lad of fifteen emerged, staggering under the burden of a +huge cloth-covered bundle.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Philip," the lad cried, dropping the bundle. Then +clutching Marcus round the neck he showered kisses on his cheeks +until Philip dragged him away.</p> + +<p>"I am your uncle," Philip said in <i>Jüdisch Deutsch</i>. "Where is +your father?"</p> + +<p>Without answering the question Yosel Borrochson took a +stranglehold of Philip and subjected him to a second and more +violent osculation. It was some minutes before Philip could +disengage himself from his nephew's embrace and then he led him +none too gently to a seat.</p> + +<p>"Never mind the kissing," he said; "where's your father?"</p> + +<p>"He is not here," Yosel Borrochson replied with a vivid blush.</p> + +<p>"I see he is not here," Philip rejoined. "Where is he?"</p> + +<p>"He is in Minsk," said young Borrochson.</p> + +<p>"In Minsk?" Philip and Marcus cried with one voice, and then +Marcus sat down on the bench and rocked to and fro in an ecstasy +of mirth.</p> + +<p>"In Minsk!" he gasped hysterically, and slapped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> his thighs by +way of giving expression to his emotions. "Did you ever hear the +like?"</p> + +<p>"Polatkin, do me the favour," Philip begged, "and don't make a +damn fool of yourself."</p> + +<p>"What did I told you?" Polatkin retorted, but Philip turned to +his nephew.</p> + +<p>"What did your father do with the ticket and the money I sent +him?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"He sold the ticket and he used all the money for the wedding," +the boy replied.</p> + +<p>"The wedding?" Philip exclaimed. "What wedding?"</p> + +<p>"The wedding with the widow," said the boy.</p> + +<p>"The widow?" Philip and Marcus shouted in unison. "What widow?"</p> + +<p>"The landlord's widow," the boy answered shyly.</p> + +<p>And then as there seemed nothing else to do he buried his face in +his hands and wept aloud.</p> + +<p>"Nu, Philip," Marcus said, sitting down beside young Borrochson, +"could the boy help it if his father is a <i>Ganef</i>?"</p> + +<p>Philip made no reply, and presently Marcus stooped and picked up +the bundle.</p> + +<p>"Come," he said gently, "let's go up to the store."</p> + +<p>The journey uptown was not without its unpleasant features, for +the size of the bundle not only barred them from both subway and +elevated, but provoked a Broadway car conductor to exhibit what +Marcus considered to be so biased and illiberal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> an attitude +toward unrestricted immigration that he barely avoided a cerebral +hemorrhage in resenting it. They finally prevailed on the driver +of a belt-line car to accept them as passengers, and nearly half +an hour elapsed before they arrived at Desbrosses Street; but +after a dozen conductors in turn had declined to honour their +transfer tickets they made the rest of their journey on foot.</p> + +<p>Philip and young Borrochson carried the offending bundle, for +Marcus flatly declined to assist them. Indeed with every block +his enthusiasm waned, so that when they at length reached Wooster +Street his feelings toward his partner's nephew had undergone a +complete change.</p> + +<p>"Don't fetch that thing in here," he said as Philip and young +Borrochson entered the showroom with the bundle; "leave it in the +shop. You got no business to bring the young feller up here in +the first place."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean bring him up here?" Philip cried. "If you +wouldn't butt in at all I intended to take him to my sister's a +cousin on Pitt Street."</p> + +<p>Marcus threw his hat on a sample table and sat down heavily.</p> + +<p>"That's all the gratitude I am getting!" he declared with bitter +emphasis. "Right in the busy season I dropped everything to help +you out, and you turn on me like this."</p> + +<p>He rose to his feet suddenly, and seizing the bundle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> with both +hands he flung it violently through the doorway.</p> + +<p>"Take him to Pitt Street," he said. "Take him to the devil for +all I care. I am through with him."</p> + +<p>But Philip conducted his nephew no farther than round the corner +on Canal Street, and when an hour later Yosel Borrochson returned +with his uncle his top-boots had been discarded forever, while +his wrinkled, semi-military garb had been exchanged for a neat +suit of Oxford gray. Moreover, both he and Philip had consumed a +hearty meal of coffee and rolls and were accordingly prepared to +take a more cheerful outlook upon life, especially Philip.</p> + +<p>"<i>Bleib du hier</i>," he said as he led young Borrochson to a chair +in the cutting room. "<i>Ich Komm bald zurück.</i>"</p> + +<p>Then mindful of his partner's advice he broke into English. +"Shtay here," he repeated in loud, staccato accents. "I would be +right back. <i>Verstehst du?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Yess-ss," Yosel replied, uttering his first word of English.</p> + +<p>With a delighted grin Philip walked to the showroom, where +Polatkin sat wiping away the crumbs of a belated luncheon of two +dozen zwieback and a can of coffee.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>," he said conciliatingly, "what is it now?"</p> + +<p>"Marcus," Philip began with a nod of his head<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> in the direction +of the cutting room, "I want to show you something a picture."</p> + +<p>"A picture!" Polatkin repeated as he rose to his feet. "What do +you mean a picture?"</p> + +<p>"Come," Philip said; "I'll show you."</p> + +<p>He led the way to the cutting room, where Yosel sat awaiting his +uncle's return.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of him now?" Philip demanded. "Ain't he a +good-looking young feller?"</p> + +<p>Marcus shrugged in a non-committal manner.</p> + +<p>"Look what a bright eye he got it," Philip insisted. "You could +tell by looking at him only that he comes from a good family."</p> + +<p>"He looks a boy like any other boy," said Marcus.</p> + +<p>"But even if no one would told you, Marcus, you could see from +his forehead yet—and the big head he's got it—you could see +that somewheres is <i>Rabonim</i> in the family."</p> + +<p>"Yow!" Marcus exclaimed. "You could just so much see from his +head that his grandfather is a rabbi as you could see from his +hands that his father is a crook." He turned impatiently away. +"So instead you should be talking a lot of nonsense, Philip, you +should set the boy to work sweeping the floor," he continued. +"Also for a beginning we would start him in at three dollars a +week, and if the boy gets worth it pretty soon we could give him +four."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>In teaching his nephew the English language Philip Scheikowitz +adopted no particular system of pedagogy, but he combined the +methods of Ollendorf, Chardenal, Ahn and Polatkin so successfully +that in a few days Joseph possessed a fairly extensive +vocabulary. To be sure, every other word was acquired at the cost +of a clump over the side of the head, but beyond a slight ringing +of the left ear that persisted for nearly six months the Polatkin +method of instruction vindicated itself, and by the end of the +year Joseph's speech differed in no way from that of his +employers.</p> + +<p>"Ain't it something which you really could say is wonderful the +way that boy gets along?" Philip declared to his partner, as the +first anniversary of Joseph's landing approached. "Honestly, +Marcus, that boy talks English like he would be born here +already."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Marcus agreed. "He's got altogether too much to +say for himself. Only this morning he tells me he wants a raise +to six dollars a week."</p> + +<p>"Could you blame him?" Philip asked mildly. "He's doing good work +here, Marcus."</p> + +<p>"Yow! he's doing good work!" Marcus exclaimed. "He's fresh like +anything, Scheikowitz. If you give him the least little +encouragement, Scheikowitz, he would stand there and talk to you +all day yet."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>"Not to me he don't," Philip retorted. "Lots of times I am asking +him questions about the folks in the old country and always he +tells me: 'With greenhorns like them I don't bother myself at +all.' Calls his father a greenhorn yet!"</p> + +<p>Marcus flapped his right hand in a gesture of impatience.</p> + +<p>"He could call his father a whole lot worse," he said. "Why, that +<i>Ganef</i> ain't even wrote you at all since the boy comes over +here. Not only he's a crook, Scheikowitz, but he's got a heart +like a brick."</p> + +<p>Philip shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"What difference does it make if he is a crook?" he rejoined. +"The boy's all right anyway. Yes, Marcus, the boy is something +which you could really say is a jewel."</p> + +<p>"<i>Geh weg!</i>" Marcus cried disgustedly—"a jewel!"</p> + +<p>"That's what I said," Philip continued—"a jewel. Tell me, +Marcus, how many boys would you find it which they are getting +from three to five dollars a week and in one year saves up a +hundred dollars, y'understand, and comes to me only this morning +and says to me I should take the money for what it costs to keep +him while he is learning the language, and for buying him his +clothes when he first comes here. Supposing his father is a +crook, Marcus, am I right or wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Talk is cheap, Scheikowitz," Marcus retorted.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> "He only says he +would pay you the money, Scheikowitz, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Philip dug down into his pocket and produced a roll of ragged one +and two dollar bills, which he flung angrily on to a sample +table.</p> + +<p>"Count 'em," he said.</p> + +<p>Marcus shrugged again.</p> + +<p>"What is it my business?" he said. "And anyhow, Scheikowitz, I +must say I'm surprised at you. A poor boy saves up a hundred +dollars out of the little we are paying him here, and actually +you are taking the money from him. Couldn't you afford it to +spend on the boy a hundred dollars?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I could," Philip replied as he pocketed the bills. "Sure I +could and I'm going to too. I'm going to take this here money and +put it in the bank for the boy, with a hundred dollars to boot, +Polatkin, and when the boy gets to be twenty-one he would anyhow +got in savings bank a couple hundred dollars."</p> + +<p>Polatkin nodded shamefacedly.</p> + +<p>"Furthermore, Polatkin," Philip continued, "if you got such a +regard for the boy which you say you got it, understand me, I +would like to make you a proposition. Ever since Gifkin leaves +us, y'understand, we got in our cutting room one <i>Schlemiel</i> +after another. Ain't it? Only yesterday we got to fire that young +feller we took on last week, understand me, and if we get +somebody else in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> place to-day, Polatkin, the chances is we +would get rid of him to-morrow, and so it goes."</p> + +<p>Again Polatkin nodded.</p> + +<p>"So, therefore, what is the use talking, Polatkin?" Philip +concluded. "Let us take Joe Borrochson and learn him he should be +a cutter, and in six months' time, Polatkin, I bet yer he would +be just so good a cutter as anybody."</p> + +<p>At this juncture Polatkin raised his hand with the palm outward.</p> + +<p>"Stop right there, Scheikowitz," he said. "You are making a fool +of yourself, Scheikowitz, because, Scheikowitz, admitting for the +sake of no arguments about it that the boy is a good boy, +understand me, after all he's only a boy, ain't it, and if you +are coming to make a sixteen-year-old boy an assistant cutter, +y'understand, the least that we could expect is that our +customers fires half our goods back at us."</p> + +<p>"But——" Scheikowitz began.</p> + +<p>"But, nothing, Scheikowitz," Polatkin interrupted. "This morning +I seen it Meyer Gifkin on Canal Street and he ain't working for +them suckers no more; and I says to him is he willing to come +back here at the same wages, and he says yes, providing you would +see that this here feller Borrochson wouldn't pretty near kill +him."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean pretty near kill him?" Scheikowitz cried. "Do +you mean to say he is afraid of a boy like Joe Borrochson?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>"Not Joe Borrochson," Polatkin replied. "He is all the time +thinking that your brother-in-law Borrochson comes over here with +his boy and is working in our place yet, and when I told him that +that crook didn't come over at all Meyer says that's the first he +hears about it or he would have asked for his job back long since +already. So he says he would come in here to see us this +afternoon."</p> + +<p>"But——" Scheikowitz began again.</p> + +<p>"Furthermore," Polatkin continued hastily, "if I would got a +nephew in my place, Scheikowitz, I would a damsight sooner he +stays working on the stock till he knows enough to sell goods on +the road as that he learns to be a cutter. Ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Scheikowitz sighed heavily by way of surrender.</p> + +<p>"All right, Polatkin," he said; "if you're so dead set on taking +this here feller Gifkin back go ahead. But one thing I must got +to tell you: If you are taking a feller back which you fired +once, understand me, he acts so independent you couldn't do +nothing with him at all."</p> + +<p>"Leave that to me," Polatkin said, as he started for the cutting +room, and when Scheikowitz followed him he found that Gifkin had +already arrived.</p> + +<p>"<i>Wie gehts</i>, Mister Scheikowitz?" Gifkin cried, and Philip +received the salutation with a distant nod.</p> + +<p>"I hope you don't hold no hard feelings for me," Gifkin began.</p> + +<p>"Me hold hard feelings for you?" Scheikowitz<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> exclaimed. "I guess +you forget yourself, Gifkin. A boss don't hold no hard feelings +for a feller which is working in the place, Gifkin; otherwise the +feller gets fired and stays fired, Gifkin."</p> + +<p>At this juncture Polatkin in the rôle of peacemaker created a +diversion.</p> + +<p>"Joe," he called to young Borrochson, who was passing the +cutting-room door, "come in here a minute."</p> + +<p>He turned to Gifkin as Joe entered.</p> + +<p>"I guess you seen this young feller before?" he said.</p> + +<p>Gifkin looked hard at Joe for a minute.</p> + +<p>"I think I seen him before somewheres," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Sure you seen him before," Polatkin rejoined. "His name is +Borrochson."</p> + +<p>"Borrochson!" Gifkin cried, and Joe, whose colour had heightened +at the close scrutiny to which he had been subjected, began to +grow pale.</p> + +<p>"Sure, Yosel Borrochson, the son of your old neighbour," Polatkin +explained, but Gifkin shook his head slowly.</p> + +<p>"That ain't Yosel Borrochson," he declared, and then it was that +Polatkin and Scheikowitz first noticed Joe's embarrassment. +Indeed even as they gazed at him his features worked convulsively +once or twice and he dropped unconscious to the floor.</p> + +<p>In the scene of excitement that ensued Gifkin's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> avowed discovery +was temporarily forgotten, but when Joe was again restored to +consciousness Polatkin drew Gifkin aside and requested an +explanation.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean the boy ain't Yosel Borrochson?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"I mean the boy ain't Yosel Borrochson," Gifkin replied +deliberately. "I know this here boy, Mr. Polatkin, and, +furthermore, Borrochson's boy is got one bum eye, which he gets +hit with a stone in it when he was only four years old already. +Don't I know it, Mr. Polatkin, when with my own eyes I seen this +here boy throw the stone yet?"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, who is this boy?" Marcus Polatkin insisted.</p> + +<p>"He's a boy by the name Lubliner," Gifkin replied, "which his +father was Pincus Lubliner, also a crook, Mr. Polatkin, which he +would steal anything from a toothpick to an oitermobile, +understand me."</p> + +<p>"Pincus Lubliner!" Polatkin repeated hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"That's who I said," Gifkin continued, rushing headlong to his +destruction. "Pincus Lubliner, which honestly, Mr. Polatkin, +there's nothing that feller wouldn't do—a regular <i>Rosher</i> if +ever there was one."</p> + +<p>For one brief moment Polatkin's eyes flashed angrily, and then +with a resounding smack his open hand struck Gifkin's cheek.</p> + +<p>"Liar!" he shouted. "What do you mean by it?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>Scheikowitz, who had been tenderly bathing Joe Borrochson's head +with water, rushed forward at the sound of the blow.</p> + +<p>"Marcus," he cried, "for Heaven's sake, what are you doing? You +shouldn't kill the feller just because he makes a mistake and +thinks the boy ain't Joe Borrochson."</p> + +<p>"He makes too many mistakes," Polatkin roared. "Calls Pincus +Lubliner a crook and a murderer yet, which his mother was my own +father's a sister. Did you ever hear the like?"</p> + +<p>He made a threatening gesture toward Gifkin, who cowered in a +chair.</p> + +<p>"Say, lookyhere, Marcus," Scheikowitz asked, "what has Pincus +Lubliner got to do with this?"</p> + +<p>"He's got a whole lot to do with it," Marcus replied, and then +his eyes rested on Joe Borrochson, who had again lapsed into +unconsciousness.</p> + +<p>"Oo-ee!" Marcus cried. "The poor boy is dead."</p> + +<p>He swept Philip aside and ran to the water-cooler, whence he +returned with the drip-bucket brimming over. This he emptied on +Joe Borrochson's recumbent form, and after a quarter of an hour +the recovery was permanent. In the meantime Philip had +interviewed Meyer Gifkin to such good purpose that when he +entered the firm's office with Meyer Gifkin at his heels he was +fairly spluttering with rage.</p> + +<p>"Thief!" he yelled. "Out of here before I make you arrested."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>"Who the devil you think you are talking to?" Marcus demanded.</p> + +<p>"I am talking to Joseph Borrochson," Scheikowitz replied. "That's +who I'm talking to."</p> + +<p>"Well, there ain't no such person here," Polatkin retorted. +"There's here only a young fellow by the name Elkan Lubliner, +which he is my own father's sister a grandson, and he ain't no +more a thief as you are."</p> + +<p>"Ain't he?" Philip retorted. "Well, all I can say is he is a +thief and his whole family is thieves, the one worser as the +other."</p> + +<p>Marcus glowered at his partner.</p> + +<p>"You should be careful what you are speaking about," he said. +"Maybe you ain't aware that this here boy's grandfather on his +father's side was <i>Reb</i> Mosha, the big <i>Lubliner Rav</i>, a <i>Chosid</i> +and a <i>Tzadek</i> if ever there was one."</p> + +<p>"What difference does that make?" Philip demanded. "He is +stealing my brother-in-law's passage ticket anyhow."</p> + +<p>"I didn't steal it," the former Joseph Borrochson cried. "My +father paid him good money for it, because Borrochson says he +wanted it to marry the widow with; and you also I am paying a +hundred dollars."</p> + +<p>"Yow! Your father paid him good money for it!" Philip jeered. "A +<i>Ganef</i> like your father is stealing the money, too, I bet yer."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>"<i>Oser a Stück</i>," Polatkin declared. "I am sending him the money +myself to help bury his aunt, Mrs. Lebowitz."</p> + +<p>"You sent him the money?" Philip cried. "And your own partner you +didn't tell nothing about it at all!"</p> + +<p>"What is it your business supposing I am sending money to the old +country?" Marcus retorted. "Do you ask me an advice when you are +sending away money to the old country?"</p> + +<p>"But the feller didn't bury his aunt at all," Philip said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he did too," the former Joseph Borrochson protested. +"Instead of a hundred dollars the funeral only costs fifty. +Anybody could make an overestimate. Ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Marcus nodded.</p> + +<p>"The boy is right, Philip," he said, "and anyhow what does this +loafer come butting in here for?"</p> + +<p>As he spoke he indicated Meyer Gifkin with a jerk of the chin.</p> + +<p>"He ain't butting in here," Philip declared; "he comes in here +because I told him to. I want you should make an end of this +nonsense, Polatkin, and hire a decent assistant cutter. Gifkin is +willing to come back for twenty dollars a week."</p> + +<p>"He is, is he?" Marcus cried. "Well, if he was willing to come +back for twenty dollars a week why didn't he come back before? +Now it's too<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> late; I got other plans. Besides, twenty dollars is +too much."</p> + +<p>"You know very well why I ain't come back before, Mr. Polatkin," +Gifkin protested. "I was afraid for my life from that murderer +Borrochson."</p> + +<p>Philip scowled suddenly.</p> + +<p>"My partner is right, Gifkin," he said. "Twenty dollars is too +much."</p> + +<p>"No, it ain't," Gifkin declared. "If I would be still working for +you, Mr. Scheikowitz, I would be getting more as twenty dollars +by now. And was it my fault you are firing me? By rights I should +have sued you in the courts yet."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean sue us in the courts?" Philip exclaimed. He was +growing increasingly angry, but Gifkin heeded no warning.</p> + +<p>"Because you are firing me just for saying a crook is a crook," +Gifkin replied, "and here lately you found out for yourself this +here Borrochson is nothing but a <i>Schwindler</i>—a <i>Ganef</i>."</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about—a <i>Schwindler</i>?" Philip cried, now +thoroughly aroused. "Ain't you heard the boy says Borrochson is +marrying the landlord's widow? Could a man get married on wind, +Gifkin?"</p> + +<p>"Yow! he married the landlord's widow!" Gifkin said. "I bet yer +that crook gambles away the money; and, anyhow, could you believe +anything this here boy tells you, Mr. Scheikowitz?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>The question fell on deaf ears, however, for at the repetition of +the word crook Philip flung open the office door.</p> + +<p>"Out of here," he roared, "before I kick you out."</p> + +<p>Simultaneously Marcus grabbed the luckless Gifkin by the collar, +and just what occurred between the office and the stairs could be +deduced from the manner in which Marcus limped back to the +office.</p> + +<p>"<i>Gott sei Dank</i> we are rid of the fellow," he said as he came +in.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Although Philip Scheikowitz arrived at his place of business at +half-past seven the following morning he found that Marcus and +Elkan Lubliner had preceded him, for when he entered the showroom +Marcus approached with a broad grin on his face and pointed to +the cutting room, where stood Elkan Lubliner. In the boy's right +hand was clutched a pair of cutter's shears, and guided by +chalked lines he was laboriously slicing up a roll of sample +paper.</p> + +<p>"Ain't he a picture?" Marcus exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"A picture!" Philip repeated. "What d'ye mean a picture?"</p> + +<p>"Why, the way he stands there with them shears, Philip," Marcus +replied. "He's really what you could call a born cutter if ever +there was one."</p> + +<p>"A cutter!" Philip cried.</p> + +<p>"Sure," Marcus went on. "It's never too soon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> for a young feller +to learn all sides of his trade, Philip. He's been long enough on +the stock. Now he should learn to be a cutter, and I bet yer in +six months' time yet he would be just so good a cutter as +anybody."</p> + +<p>Philip was too dazed to make any comment before Marcus obtained a +fresh start.</p> + +<p>"A smart boy like him, Philip, learns awful quick," he said. +"Ain't it funny how blood shows up? Now you take a boy like him +which he comes from decent, respectable family, Philip, and he's +got real gumption. I think I told you his grandfather on his +father's side was a big rabbi, the <i>Lubliner Rav</i>."</p> + +<p>Philip nodded.</p> + +<p>"And even if I didn't told you," Marcus went on, "you could tell +it from his face."</p> + +<p>Again Philip nodded.</p> + +<p>"And another thing I want to talk to you about," Marcus said, +hastening after him: "the hundred dollars the boy gives you you +should keep, Philip. And if you are spending more than that on +the boy I would make it good."</p> + +<p>Philip dug down absently into his trousers pocket and brought +forth the roll of dirty bills.</p> + +<p>"Take it," he said, throwing it toward his partner. "I don't want +it."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean you don't want it?" Marcus cried.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>"I mean I ain't got no hard feelings against the boy," Philip +replied. "I am thinking it over all night, and I come to the +conclusion so long as I started in being the boy's uncle I would +continue that way. So you should put the money in the savings +bank like I says yesterday."</p> + +<p>"But——" Marcus protested.</p> + +<p>"But nothing," Philip interrupted. "Do what I am telling you."</p> + +<p>Marcus blinked hard and cleared his throat with a great, rasping +noise.</p> + +<p>"After all," he said huskily, "it don't make no difference how +many crooks <i>oder Ganevim</i> is in a feller's family, Philip, so +long as he's got a good, straight business man for a partner."</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWO" id="CHAPTER_TWO"></a>CHAPTER TWO</h2> +<h2>APPENWEIER'S ACCOUNT</h2> +<h3>HOW ELKAN LUBLINER GRADUATED INTO SALESMANSHIP</h3> +</div> + +<p class="dropcap">"WHEN I hire a salesman, Mr. Klugfels," said Marcus Polatkin, +senior partner of Polatkin & Scheikowitz, "I hire him because +he's a salesman, not because he's a nephew."</p> + +<p>"But it don't do any harm for a salesman to have an uncle whose +concern would buy in one season from you already ten thousand +dollars goods, Mr. Polatkin," Klugfels insisted. "Furthermore, +Harry is a bright, smart boy; and you can take it from me, Mr. +Polatkin, not alone he would get my trade, but us buyers is got a +whole lot of influence one with the other, understand me; so, if +there's any other concern you haven't on your books at present, +you could rely on me I should do my best for Harry and you."</p> + +<p>Thus spoke Mr. Felix Klugfels, buyer for Appenweier & Murray's +Thirty-second Street store, on the first Monday of January; and +in consequence on the second Monday of January Harry Flaxberg<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +came to work as city salesman for Polatkin & Scheikowitz. He also +maintained the rôle of party of the second part in a contract +drawn by Henry D. Feldman, whose skill in such matters is too +well known for comment here. Sufficient to say it fixed Harry +Flaxberg's compensation at thirty dollars a week and moderate +commissions. At Polatkin's request, however, the document was so +worded that it excluded Flaxberg from selling any of the concerns +already on Polatkin & Scheikowitz's books; for not only did he +doubt Flaxberg's ability as a salesman, but he was quite +conscious of the circumstance that, save for the acquisition of +Appenweier & Murray's account, there was no need of their hiring +a city salesman at all, since the scope of their business +operations required only one salesman—to wit, as the lawyers +say, Marcus Polatkin himself. On the other hand, Klugfels had +insisted upon the safeguarding of his nephew's interests, so that +the latter was reasonably certain of a year's steady employment. +Hence, when, on the first Monday of February, Appenweier & Murray +dispensed with the services of Mr. Klugfels before he had had the +opportunity of bestowing even one order on his nephew as a mark +of his favour, the business premises of Polatkin & Scheikowitz +became forthwith a house of mourning. From the stricken +principals down to and including the shipping clerk nothing else +was spoken of or thought about for a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> period of more than two +weeks. Neither was it a source of much consolation to Marcus +Polatkin when he heard that Klugfels had been supplanted by Max +Lapin, a third cousin of Leon Sammet of the firm of Sammet +Brothers.</p> + +<p>"Ain't it terrible the way people is related nowadays?" he said +to Scheikowitz, who had just read aloud the news of Max Lapin's +hiring in the columns of the <i>Daily Cloak and Suit Record</i>.</p> + +<p>"Honestly, Scheikowitz, if a feller ain't got a lot of retailers +<i>oder</i> buyers for distance relations, understand me, he might +just so well go out of business and be done with it!"</p> + +<p>Scheikowitz threw down the paper impatiently.</p> + +<p>"That's where you are making a big mistake, Polatkin," he said. +"A feller which he expects to do business with relations is just +so good as looking for trouble. You could never depend on +relations that they are going to keep on buying goods from you, +Polatkin. The least little thing happens between relations, +understand me, and they are getting right away enemies for life; +while, if it was just between friends, Polatkin, one friend makes +for the other a blue eye, understand me, and in two weeks' time +they are just so good friends as ever. So, even if Appenweier & +Murray wouldn't fire him, y'understand, Klugfels would have +dumped this young feller on us anyway."</p> + +<p>As he spoke he looked through the office door<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> toward the +showroom, where Harry Flaxberg sat with his feet cocked up on a +sample table midway in the perusal of the sporting page.</p> + +<p>"Flaxberg," Scheikowitz cried, "what are we showing here +anyway—garments <i>oder</i> shoes? You are ruining our sample tables +the way you are acting!"</p> + +<p>Flaxberg replaced his feet on the floor and put down his paper.</p> + +<p>"It's time some one ruined them tables on you, Mr. Scheikowitz," +he said. "With the junk fixtures you got it here I'm ashamed to +bring a customer into the place at all."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Scheikowitz retorted; "for all the customers +you are bringing in here, Flaxberg, we needn't got no fixtures at +all. Come inside the office—my partner wants to speak to you a +few words something."</p> + +<p>Flaxberg rose leisurely to his feet and, carefully shaking each +leg in turn to restore the unwrinkled perfection of his trousers, +walked toward the office.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Flaxberg," Polatkin cried as he entered, "what are you +going to do about this here account of Appenweier & Murray's?"</p> + +<p>"What am I going to do about it?" Flaxberg repeated. "Why, what +could I do about it? Every salesman is liable to lose one +account, Mr. Polatkin."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Polatkin answered; "but most every other salesman +is got some other accounts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> to fall back on. Whereas if a +salesman is just got one account, Flaxberg, and he loses it, +understand me, then he ain't a salesman no longer, Flaxberg. +Right away he becomes only a loafer, Flaxberg, and the best thing +he could do, understand me, is to go and find a job somewheres +else."</p> + +<p>"Not when he's got a contract, Mr. Polatkin," Flaxberg retorted +promptly. "And specially a contract which the boss fixes up +himself—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Scheikowitz nodded and scowled savagely at his partner.</p> + +<p>"Listen here to me, Flaxberg," Polatkin cried. "Do you mean to +told me that, even if a salesman would got ever so much a crazy +contract, understand me, it allows the salesman he should sit all +the time doing nothing in the showroom without we got a right to +fire him?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Flaxberg replied calmly, "it gives him the privilege to +go out to lunch once in a while."</p> + +<p>He pulled down his waistcoat with exaggerated care and turned on +his heel.</p> + +<p>"So I would be back in an hour," he concluded; "and if any +customers come in and ask for me tell 'em to take a seat till I +am coming back."</p> + +<p>The two partners watched him until he put on his hat and coat in +the rear of the showroom and then Polatkin rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Flaxberg," he cried, "wait a minute!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>Flaxberg returned to the office and nonchalantly lit a cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Listen here to me, Flaxberg," Polatkin began. "Take from us a +hundred and fifty dollars and quit!"</p> + +<p>Flaxberg continued the operation of lighting his cigarette and +blew a great cloud of smoke before replying.</p> + +<p>"What for a piker do you think I am anyhow?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean—piker?" Polatkin said. "A hundred and fifty +ain't to be sneezed at, Flaxberg."</p> + +<p>"Ain't it?" Flaxberg retorted. "Well, with me, I got a more +delicate nose as most people, Mr. Polatkin. I sneeze at +everything under five hundred dollars—and that's all there is to +it."</p> + +<p>Once more he turned on his heel and walked out of the office; but +this time his progress toward the stairs was more deliberate, +for, despite his defiant attitude, Flaxberg's finances were at +low ebb owing to a marked reversal of form exhibited the previous +day in the third race at New Orleans. Moreover, he felt confident +that a judicious investment of a hundred and fifty dollars would +net him that very afternoon at least five hundred dollars, if any +reliance were to be placed on the selection of Merlando, the +eminent sporting writer of the <i>Morning Wireless</i>.</p> + +<p>Consequently he afforded every opportunity for Marcus to call him +back, and he even paused at the factory door and applied a +lighted match to his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> already burning cigarette. The expected +summons failed, however, and instead he was nearly precipitated +to the foot of the stairs by no less a person than Elkan +Lubliner.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, Mr. Flaxberg," Elkan said. "I ain't seen you at all."</p> + +<p>Flaxberg turned suddenly, but at the sight of Elkan his anger +evaporated as he recalled a piece of gossip retailed by Sam +Markulies, the shipping clerk, to the effect that, despite his +eighteen years, Elkan had at least two savings-bank accounts and +kept in his pocket a bundle of bills as large as a roll of piece +goods.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Flaxberg cried with a forced grin. "I ain't +surprised you are pretty near blinded when you are coming into +the daylight out of the cutting room. It's dark in there like a +tomb."</p> + +<p>"I bet yer," Elkan said fervently.</p> + +<p>"You should get into the air more often," Flaxberg went on. "A +feller could get all sorts of things the matter with him staying +in a hole like that."</p> + +<p>"<i>Gott sei dank</i> I got, anyhow, my health," Elkan commented.</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Flaxberg said as they reached the street; "but +you must got to take care of it too. A feller which he don't get +no exercise should ought to eat well, Lubliner. For instance, I +bet yer you are taking every day your lunch in a bakery—ain't +it?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>Elkan nodded.</p> + +<p>"Well, there you are!" Flaxberg cried triumphantly. "A feller +works all the time in a dark hole like that cutting room, and +comes lunchtime he <i>fresses</i> a bunch of <i>Kuchen</i> and a cup of +coffee, <i>verstehst du</i>—and is it any wonder you are looking +sick?"</p> + +<p>"I feel all right," Elkan said.</p> + +<p>"I know you feel all right," Flaxberg continued, "but you look +something terrible, Lubliner. Just for to-day, Lubliner, take my +advice and try Wasserbauer's regular dinner."</p> + +<p>Elkan laughed aloud.</p> + +<p>"Wasserbauer's!" he exclaimed. "Why, what do you think I am, Mr. +Flaxberg? If I would be a salesman like you, Mr. Flaxberg, I +would say, 'Yes; eat once in a while at Wasserbauer's'; <i>aber</i> +for an assistant cutter, Mr. Flaxberg, Wasserbauer's is just so +high like the Waldorfer."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Flaxberg retorted airily. "No one asks you +you should pay for it. Come and have a decent meal with me."</p> + +<p>For a brief interval Elkan hesitated, but at length he +surrendered, and five minutes later he found himself seated +opposite Harry Flaxberg in the rear of Wasserbauer's café.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Flaxberg," he said as he commenced the fourth of a +series of dill pickles, "compared with a salesman, a cutter is a +dawg's life—ain't it?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>"Well," Flaxberg commented, "he is and he isn't. There's no +reason why a cutter shouldn't enjoy life too, Lubliner. A cutter +could make money on the side just so good as a salesman. I am +acquainted already with a pants cutter by the name Schmul +Kleidermann which, one afternoon last week, he pulls down two +hundred and fifty dollars yet."</p> + +<p>"Pulls down two hundred and fifty dollars!" Elkan exclaimed. +"From where he pulls it down, Mr. Flaxberg?"</p> + +<p>"Not from the pants business <i>oser</i>," Flaxberg replied. "The +feller reads the papers, Lubliner, and that's how he makes his +money."</p> + +<p>"You mean he is speculating in these here stocks from stock +exchanges?" Elkan asked.</p> + +<p>"Not stocks," Flaxberg replied in shocked accents. "From +<i>spieling</i> the stock markets a feller could lose his shirt yet. +Never play the stock markets, Lubliner. That's something which +you could really say a feller ruins himself for life with."</p> + +<p>Elkan nodded.</p> + +<p>"Even <i>im Russland</i> it's the same," he said.</p> + +<p>"Sure," Flaxberg went on. "<i>Aber</i> this feller Kleidermann he +makes a study of it. The name of the horse was Prince Faithful. +On New Year's Day he runs fourth in a field of six. The next week +he is in the money for a show with such old-timers as Aurora +Borealis, Dixie Lad and Ramble Home—and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> last week he gets away +with it six to one a winner, understand me; and this afternoon +yet, over to Judge Crowley's, I could get a price five to two a +place, understand me, which it is like picking up money in the +street already."</p> + +<p>Elkan paused in the process of commencing the sixth pickle and +gazed in wide-eyed astonishment at his host.</p> + +<p>"So you see, Lubliner," Flaxberg concluded, "if you would put up +twenty dollars, understand me, you could make fifty dollars more, +like turning your hand over."</p> + +<p>Elkan laid down his half-eaten pickle.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say you want me I should put up twenty dollars on +a horse which it is running with other horses a race?" he +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Well," Flaxberg replied, "of course, if you got objections to +putting up money on a horse, Lubliner, why, don't do it. Lend it +me instead the twenty dollars and I would play it; and if the +horse should—<i>Gott soll hüten</i>—not be in the money, +y'understand, then I would give you the twenty dollars back +Saturday at the latest. <i>Aber</i> if the horse makes a place, +understand me, then I would give you your money back this +afternoon yet and ten dollars to boot."</p> + +<p>For one wavering moment Elkan raised the pickle to his lips and +then replaced it on the table. Then he licked off his fingers and +explored the recess of his waistcoat pocket.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>"Here," he said, producing a dime—"here is for the dill pickles, +Mr. Flaxberg."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean?" Flaxberg cried.</p> + +<p>"I mean this," Elkan said, putting on his hat—"I mean you should +save your money with me and blow instead your friend Kleidermann +to dinner, because the proposition ain't attractive."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Redman," Elkan commented when he resumed his duties as +assistant cutter after the five and a half dill pickles had been +supplemented with a hasty meal of rolls and coffee, "for a +<i>Schlemiel</i> like him to call himself a salesman—honestly, it's a +disgrace!"</p> + +<p>He addressed his remarks to Joseph Redman, head cutter for +Polatkin & Scheikowitz, who plied his shears industriously at an +adjoining table. Joseph, like every other employee of Polatkin & +Scheikowitz, was thoroughly acquainted with the details of +Flaxberg's hiring and its dénouement. Nevertheless, in his +quality of head cutter, he professed a becoming ignorance.</p> + +<p>"Who is this which you are knocking now?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I am knocking some one which he's got a right to be knocked," +Elkan replied. "I am knocking this here feller Flaxberg, which he +calls himself a salesman. That feller couldn't sell a drink of +water in the Sahara Desert, Mr. Redman. All he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> cares about is +gambling and going on theaytres. Why, if I would be in his shoes, +Mr. Redman, I wouldn't eat or I wouldn't sleep till I got from +Appenweier & Murray an order. Never mind if my uncle would be +fired and Mr. Lapin, the new buyer, is a relation from Sammet +Brothers, Mr. Redman, I would get that account, understand me, or +I would <i>verplatz</i>."</p> + +<p>"<i>Yow</i>, you would do wonders!" Redman said. "The best thing you +could do, Lubliner, is to close up your face and get to work. You +shouldn't got so much to say for yourself. A big mouth is only +for a salesman, Lubliner. For a cutter it's nix, understand me; +so you should give me a rest with this here Appenweier & Murray's +account and get busy on them 2060's. We are behind with 'em as it +is."</p> + +<p>Thus admonished, Elkan lapsed into silence; and for more than +half an hour he pursued his duties diligently.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu!</i>" Redman said at length. "What's the matter you are acting +so quiet this afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean I am acting quiet, Mr. Redman?" Elkan asked. "I +am thinking—that's all. Without a feller would think once in a +while, Mr. Redman, he remains a cutter all his life."</p> + +<p>"There's worser things as cutters," Redman commented. "For +instance—assistant cutters."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Elkan agreed; "but salesmen is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> a whole lot +better as cutters <i>oder</i> assistant cutters. A salesman sees life, +Mr. Redman. He meets oncet in a while people, Mr. Redman; while, +with us, what is it? We are shut up here like we would be sitting +in prison—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"You ain't got no kick coming," Redman said. "A young feller only +going on eighteen, understand me, is getting ten dollars a week +and he kicks yet. Sitting in prison, <i>sagt er</i>! Maybe you would +like the concern they should be putting in moving pictures here +or a phonygraft!"</p> + +<p>Elkan sighed heavily by way of reply and for a quarter of an hour +longer he worked in quietness, until Redman grew worried at his +assistant's unusual taciturnity.</p> + +<p>"What's the trouble you ain't talking, Lubliner?" he said. "Don't +you feel so good?"</p> + +<p>Elkan looked up. He was about to say that he felt all right when +suddenly he received the germ of an inspiration, and in the few +seconds that he hesitated it blossomed into a well-defined plan +of action. He therefore emitted a faint groan and laid down his +shears.</p> + +<p>"I got a <i>krank</i> right here," he said, placing his hand on his +left side. "Ever since last week I got it."</p> + +<p>"Well, why don't you say something about it before?" Redman cried +anxiously; for be it remembered that Elkan Lubliner was not only +the cousin of Marcus Polatkin but the adopted nephew of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> Philip +Scheikowitz as well. "You shouldn't let such things go."</p> + +<p>"The fact is," Elkan replied, "I didn't want to say nothing about +it to Mr. Polatkin on account he's got enough to worry him with +this here Appenweier & Murray's account; and——"</p> + +<p>"You got that account on the brain," Redman interrupted. "If you +don't feel so good you should go home. Leave me fix it for you."</p> + +<p>As he spoke he hastily buttoned on his collar and left the +cutting room, while Elkan could not forego a delighted grin. +After all, he reflected, he had worked steadily for over a year +and a half with only such holidays as the orthodox ritual +ordained; and he was so busy making plans for his first afternoon +of freedom that he nearly forgot to groan again when Redman came +back with Marcus Polatkin at his heels.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>, Elkan!" Marcus said. "What's the matter? Don't you feel +good?"</p> + +<p>"I got a <i>krank</i> right here," Elkan replied, placing his hand on +his right side. "I got it now pretty near a week already."</p> + +<p>"Well, maybe you should sit down for the rest of the afternoon +and file away the old cutting slips," Marcus said, whereat Elkan +moaned and closed his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I filed 'em away last week already," he murmured. "I think maybe +if I would lay in bed the rest of the afternoon I would be all +right to-morrow."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>Marcus gazed earnestly at his cousin, whose sufferings seemed to +be intensified thereby.</p> + +<p>"All right, Elkan," he said. "Go ahead. Go home and tell Mrs. +Feinermann she should give you a little <i>Brusttee</i>; and if you +don't feel better in the morning don't take it so particular to +get here early."</p> + +<p>Elkan nodded weakly and five minutes later walked slowly out of +the factory. He took the stairs only a little less slowly, but he +gradually increased his speed as he proceeded along Wooster +Street, until by the time he was out of sight of the firm's +office windows he was fairly running. Thus he arrived at his +boarding place on Pitt Street in less than half an hour—just in +time to interrupt Mrs. Sarah Feinermann as she was about to start +on a shopping excursion uptown. Mrs. Feinermann exclaimed aloud +at the sight of him, and her complexion grew perceptibly less +florid, for his advent in Pitt Street at that early hour could +have but one meaning.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter—you are getting fired?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean—getting fired?" Elkan replied. "I ain't fired. I +got an afternoon off."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Feinermann heaved a sigh of relief. As the recipient of +Elkan's five dollars a week board-money, payable strictly in +advance, she naturally evinced a hearty interest in his financial +affairs. Moreover,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> she was distantly related to Elkan's father; +and owing to this kinship her husband, Marx Feinermann, foreman +for Kupferberg Brothers, was of the impression that she charged +Elkan only three dollars and fifty cents a week. The +underestimate more than paid Mrs. Feinermann's millinery bill, +and she was consequently under the necessity of buying Elkan's +silence with small items of laundry work and an occasional egg +for breakfast. This arrangement suited Elkan very well indeed; +and though he had eaten his lunch only an hour previously he +thought it the part of prudence to insist that she prepare a meal +for him, by way of maintaining his privileges as Mrs. +Feinermann's fellow conspirator.</p> + +<p>"But I am just now getting dressed to go uptown," she protested.</p> + +<p>"Where to?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"I got a little shopping to do," she said; and Elkan snapped his +fingers in the conception of a brilliant idea.</p> + +<p>"Good!" he exclaimed. "I would go with you. In three minutes I +would wash myself and change my clothes—and I'll be right with +you."</p> + +<p>"But I got to stop in and see Marx first," she insisted. "I want +to tell him something."</p> + +<p>"I wanted to tell him something lots of times already," Elkan +said significantly; and Mrs. Feinermann sat down in the nearest +chair while Elkan<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> disappeared into the adjoining room and +performed a hasty toilet.</p> + +<p>"<i>Schon gut</i>," he said as he emerged from his room five minutes +later; "we would go right up to Appenweier & Murray's."</p> + +<p>"But I ain't said I am going up to Appenweier & Murray's," Mrs. +Feinermann cried. "Such a high-price place I couldn't afford to +deal with at all."</p> + +<p>"I didn't say you could," Elkan replied; "but it don't do no harm +to get yourself used to such places, on account might before long +you could afford to deal there maybe."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean I could afford to deal there before long?" Mrs. +Feinermann inquired.</p> + +<p>"I mean this," Elkan said, and they started down the stairs—"I +mean, if things turn out like the way I want 'em to, instead of +five dollars a week I would give you five dollars and fifty cents +a week." Here he paused on the stair-landing to let the news sink +in.</p> + +<p>"And furthermore, if you would act the way I tell you to when we +get up there I would also pay your carfare," he concluded—"one +way."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>When Mrs. Feinermann entered Appenweier & Murray's store that +afternoon she was immediately accosted by a floorwalker.</p> + +<p>"What do you wish, madam?" he said.</p> + +<p>"I want to buy something a dress for my wife,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> Elkan +volunteered, stepping from behind the shadow of Mrs. Feinermann, +who for her thirty-odd years was, to say the least, buxom.</p> + +<p>"Your wife?" the floorwalker repeated.</p> + +<p>"Sure; why not?" Elkan replied. "Maybe I am looking young, but in +reality I am old; so you should please show us the dress +department, from twenty-two-fifty to twenty-eight dollars the +garment."</p> + +<p>The floorwalker ushered them into the elevator and they alighted +at the second floor.</p> + +<p>"Miss Holzmeyer!" the floorwalker cried; and in response there +approached a lady of uncertain age but of no uncertain methods of +salesmanship. She was garbed in a silk gown that might have +graced the person of an Austrian grand duchess, and she rustled +and swished as she walked toward them in what she had always +found to be a most impressive manner.</p> + +<p>"The lady wants to see some dresses," the floorwalker said; and +Miss Holzmeyer smiled by a rather complicated process, in which +her nose wrinkled until it drew up the corners of her mouth and +made her eyes appear to rest like shoe-buttons on the tops of her +powdered cheeks.</p> + +<p>"This way, madam," she said as she swung her skirts round +noisily.</p> + +<p>"One moment," Elkan interrupted, for again he had been totally +eclipsed by Mrs. Feinermann's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> bulky figure. "You ain't heard +what my wife wants yet."</p> + +<p>"Your wife!" Miss Holzmeyer exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Sure, my wife," Elkan replied calmly. "This is my wife if it's +all the same to you and you ain't got no objections."</p> + +<p>He gazed steadily at Miss Holzmeyer, who began to find her +definite methods of salesmanship growing less definite, until she +blushed vividly.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," she said. "Step this way, please."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Holzmeyer," Elkan went on without moving, "as I was +telling you, you ain't found out yet what my wife wants, on +account a dress could be from twenty dollars the garment up to a +hundred and fifty."</p> + +<p>"We have dresses here as high as three hundred!" Miss Holzmeyer +snapped. She had discerned that she was beginning to be +embarrassed in the presence of this self-possessed benedick of +youthful appearance, and she resented it accordingly.</p> + +<p>"I ain't doubting it for a minute," Elkan replied. "New York is +full of suckers, Miss Holzmeyer; but me and my wife is looking +for something from twenty-two-fifty to twenty-eight dollars, Miss +Holzmeyer."</p> + +<p>Miss Holzmeyer's temper mounted with each repetition of her +surname, and her final "Step this way, please!" was uttered in +tones fairly tremulous with rage.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>Elkan obeyed so leisurely that by the time Mrs. Feinermann and he +had reached the rear of the showroom Miss Holzmeyer had hung +three dresses on the back of a chair.</p> + +<p>"H'allow me," Elkan said as he took the topmost gown by the +shoulders and held it up in front of him. He shook out the folds +and for more than five minutes examined it closely.</p> + +<p>"I didn't want to see nothing for seventeen-fifty," he announced +at last—"especially from last year's style."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" Miss Holzmeyer cried angrily. "That dress is +marked twenty-eight dollars and it just came in last week. It's a +very smart model indeed."</p> + +<p>"The model I don't know nothing about," Elkan replied, "but the +salesman must of been pretty smart to stuck you folks like that."</p> + +<p>He subjected another gown to a careful scrutiny while Miss +Holzmeyer sought the showcases for more garments.</p> + +<p>"Now, this one here," he said, "is better value. How much you are +asking for this one, please?"</p> + +<p>Miss Holzmeyer glanced at the price ticket.</p> + +<p>"Twenty-eight dollars," she replied, with an indignant glare.</p> + +<p>Elkan whistled incredulously.</p> + +<p>"You don't tell me," he said. "I always heard it that the +expenses is high uptown, but even if the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> walls was hung <i>mit</i> +diamonds yet, Miss Holzmeyer, your bosses wouldn't starve +neither. Do you got maybe a dress for twenty-eight dollars which +it is worth, anyhow, twenty-five dollars?"</p> + +<p>This last jibe was too much for Miss Holzmeyer.</p> + +<p>"Mis-ter Lap-in!" she howled, and immediately a glazed mahogany +door in an adjoining partition burst open and Max Lapin appeared +on the floor of the showroom.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Miss Holzmeyer sat down in the nearest chair and fanned herself +with her pocket handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"This man insulted me!" she said; whereat Max Lapin turned +savagely to Elkan.</p> + +<p>"What for you are insulting this lady?" he demanded as he made a +rapid survey of Elkan's physical development. He was quite +prepared to defend Miss Holzmeyer's honour in a fitting and manly +fashion; but, during the few seconds that supervened his +question, Max reflected that you can never tell about a small +man.</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean insult this lady?" Elkan asked stoutly. "I never +says a word to her. Maybe I ain't so long in the country as you +are, but I got just so much respect for the old folks as anybody. +Furthermore, she is showing me here garments which, honest, +Mister—er——"</p> + +<p>"Lapin," Max said.</p> + +<p>"Mister Lapin, a house with the reputation of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> Appenweier & +Murray shouldn't ought to got in stock at all."</p> + +<p>"Say, lookyhere, young feller," Lapin cried, "what are you +driving into anyway? I am buyer here, and if you got any kick +coming tell it to me, and don't go insulting the salesladies."</p> + +<p>"I ain't insulted no saleslady, Mr. Lapin," Elkan declared. "I am +coming here to buy for my wife a dress and certainly I want to +get for my money some decent value; and when this lady shows me a +garment like this"—he held up the topmost garment—"and says it +is from this year a model, understand me, naturally I got my own +idees on the subject."</p> + +<p>Lapin looked critically at the garment in question.</p> + +<p>"Did you get this style from that third case there, Miss +Holzmeyer?" he asked, and Miss Holzmeyer nodded.</p> + +<p>"Well, that whole case is full of leftovers and I don't want it +touched," Lapin said. "Now go ahead and show this gentleman's +wife some more models; and if he gets fresh let me know—that's +all."</p> + +<p>"One minute, Mr. Lapin," Elkan said. "Will you do me the favour +and let me show you something?"</p> + +<p>He held up the garment last exhibited by Miss Holzmeyer and +pointed to the yoke and its border.</p> + +<p>"This here garment Miss Holzmeyer shows me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> for twenty-eight +dollars, Mr. Lapin," he said, "and with me and my wife here a +dollar means to us like two dollars to most people, Mr. Lapin. So +when I am seeing the precisely selfsame garment like this in Fine +Brothers' for twenty-six dollars, but the border is from silk +embroidery, a peacock's tail design, and the yoke is from gilt +net yet, understand me, I got to say something—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Lapin paused in his progress toward his office and even as he did +so Elkan's eyes strayed to a glass-covered showcase.</p> + +<p>"Why, there is a garment just like Fine Brothers' model!" he +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Say, lookyhere!" Lapin demanded as he strode up to the showcase +and pulled out the costume indicated by Elkan. "What are you +trying to tell me? This here model is thirty-seven dollars and +fifty cents; so, if you can get it for twenty-six at Fine +Brothers', go ahead and do it!"</p> + +<p>"But, Mr. Lapin," Elkan said, "that ain't no way for a buyer of a +big concern like this to talk. I am telling you, so sure as you +are standing there and I should never move from this spot, the +identical selfsame style Fine Brothers got it for twenty-six +dollars. I know it, Mr. Lapin, because we are making up that +garment in our factory yet, and Fine Brothers takes from us six +of that model at eighteen-fifty apiece."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>At this unguarded disclosure Lapin's face grew crimson with rage.</p> + +<p>"You are making it up in your factory!" he cried. "Why, you dirty +faker you, what the devil you are coming round here bluffing that +you want to buy a dress for your wife for?"</p> + +<p>Elkan broke into a cold perspiration and looked round for Mrs. +Feinermann, the substantial evidence of his marital state; but at +the very beginning of Max Lapin's indignant outburst she had +discreetly taken the first stairway to the right.</p> + +<p>"Bring that woman back here!" Max roared. Miss Holzmeyer made a +dash for the stairway, and before Elkan had time to formulate +even a tentative plan of escape she had returned with her quarry.</p> + +<p>"What do you want from me?" Mrs. Feinermann gasped. Her hat was +awry, and what had once been a modish pompadour was toppled to +one side and shed hairpins with every palsied nod of her head. "I +ain't done nothing!" she protested.</p> + +<p>"Sure, you ain't," Elkan said; "so you should keep your mouth +shut—that's all."</p> + +<p>"I would keep my mouth shut <i>oder</i> not as I please," Mrs. +Feinermann retorted. "Furthermore, you ain't got no business to +get me mixed up in this <i>Geschichte</i> at all!"</p> + +<p>"Who are you two anyway?" Max demanded.</p> + +<p>"This here feller is a young feller by the name<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> of Elkan +Lubliner which he is working by Polatkin & Scheikowitz," Mrs. +Feinermann announced; "and what he is bringing me up here for is +more than I could tell you."</p> + +<p>"Ain't he your husband?" Max asked.</p> + +<p>"<i>Oser a Stück!</i>" Mrs. Feinermann declared fervently. "A kid +like him should be my husband! An idee!"</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Elkan rejoined. "<i>Im Russland</i> at my age many +a young feller is got twins yet!"</p> + +<p>"What's that got to do with it?" Max Lapin demanded.</p> + +<p>"It ain't got nothing to do with it," Elkan said, "but it shows +that a young feller like me which he is raised in the old country +ain't such a kid as you think for, Mr. Lapin. And when I am +telling you that the concern which sells you them goods to retail +for twenty-eight dollars is sticking you good, understand me, you +could take my word for it just the same like I would be +fifty-five even."</p> + +<p>Again he seized one of the garments.</p> + +<p>"And what's more," he went on breathlessly, "the workmanship is +rotten. Look at here!—the seams is falling to pieces already!"</p> + +<p>He thrust the garment under Lapin's nose with one hand, while +with the other he dug down into his trousers pocket.</p> + +<p>"Here!" he shouted. "Here is money—fifty dollars!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>He dropped the gown and held out a roll of bills toward Lapin.</p> + +<p>"Take it!" he said hysterically. "Take it all; and if I don't +bring you to-morrow morning, first thing, this same identical +style, only A-number-one workmanship, which you could retail for +twenty dollars a garment, understand me, keep the money and +<i>fertig</i>."</p> + +<p>At this juncture the well-nourished figure of Louis Appenweier, +senior member of Appenweier & Murray, appeared in the door of the +elevator and Max Lapin turned on his heel.</p> + +<p>"Come into my office," he hissed; and as he started for the +glazed mahogany door he gathered up the remaining garments and +took them with him.</p> + +<p>For more than half an hour Elkan and Max Lapin remained closeted +together, and during that period Elkan conducted a clinic over +each garment to such good purpose that Max sent out from time to +time for more expensive styles. All of these were in turn +examined by Elkan, who recognized in at least six models the +designs of Joseph Redman, slightly altered in the stealing by +Leon Sammet.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Lapin," Elkan said, "them models was all designed by +our own designer and some one <i>ganvered</i> 'em on us. Furthermore, +I could bring you here to-morrow morning at eight o'clock from +our sample racks these same identical models, with the prices on +'em marked plain like the figures on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> a ten-dollar bill, +understand me; and if they ain't from twenty to thirty per cent. +lower as you paid for these here garments I'd eat 'em!"</p> + +<p>For at least ten minutes Max Lapin sat with knitted brows and +pondered Elkan's words.</p> + +<p>"Eight o'clock is too early," he announced at last. "Make it +half-past nine."</p> + +<p>"Six, even, ain't too early for an up-to-date buyer to look at +some genuine bargains," Elkan insisted; "and, besides, I must got +to get back to the shop at nine."</p> + +<p>"But——" Lapin began.</p> + +<p>"But nothing, Mr. Lapin," Elkan said, rising to his feet. "Make +it eight o'clock, and the next time I would come round at +half-past nine."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean the next time?" Lapin exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"I mean this wouldn't be the last time we do business together, +because the job as assistant cutter which I got it is just +temporary, Mr. Lapin," he said as he started for the door—"just +temporary—that's all."</p> + +<p>He paused with his hand on the doorknob.</p> + +<p>"See you at eight o'clock to-morrow morning," he said cheerfully; +and five minutes later he was having hard work to keep from +dancing his way down Thirty-third Street to the subway.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>From half-past seven in the morning until six at night were the +working hours of all Polatkin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> & Scheikowitz's employees, save +only Sam Markulies, the shipping clerk, whose duty it was to +unlock the shop at quarter-past seven sharp. This hour had been +fixed by Philip Scheikowitz himself, who, on an average of once a +month, would stroll into the shipping department at closing-time +and announce his intention of going to a wedding that evening. +Sometimes the proposed excursion was a pinocle party or a visit +to the theatre, but the dénouement was always the same. The next +morning Scheikowitz would arrive at the factory door precisely at +quarter-past seven to find Markulies from five to ten minutes +late; whereupon Markulies would receive his discharge, to take +effect the following Saturday night—and for the ensuing month +his punctuality was assured.</p> + +<p>During the quarter of an hour which preceded the arrival of the +other employees, Markulies usually dusted the office and +showroom; and on the morning following Elkan's holiday this +solitary duty was cheered by the presence of Harry Flaxberg. +Harry had sought the advice of counsel the previous day and had +been warned against tardiness as an excuse for his discharge; so +he was lounging on the sidewalk long before Markulies's arrival +that morning.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>, Mr. Flaxberg," Markulies cried, "what brings you round so +early?"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't sleep last night," Flaxberg said; "so I thought I +might just so well be here as anywhere."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>"Ain't that the funniest thing!" Markulies cried. "Me I couldn't +sleep neither. I got something on my mind."</p> + +<p>He unlocked the door as he spoke; and as he passed up the stairs +he declared again that he had something on his mind.</p> + +<p>"<i>Yow!</i>" Flaxberg said. "I should got your worries, Markulies. +The simple little things which a shipping clerk must got to do +would <i>oser</i> give anybody the nervous prostration."</p> + +<p>"Is that so?" Markulies retorted. "Well, I ain't just the +shipping clerk here, Mr. Flaxberg. You must remember I am in +charge with the keys also, Mr. Flaxberg; and I got +responsibilities if some one <i>ganvers</i> a couple sample garments +once in a while, y'understand—right away they would accuse me +that I done it."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry yourself, Markulies," Flaxberg said. "I ain't going +to <i>ganver</i> no garments on you—not this morning anyhow."</p> + +<p>"You I ain't worrying about at all," Markulies rejoined; "but +that young bloodsucker, Lubliner, Mr. Flaxberg—that's something +else again. Actually that young feller is to me something which +you could really call a thorn in my pants, Mr. Flaxberg. Just +because he is assistant cutter here and I am only the shipping +clerk he treats me like I would be the dirt under his feet. Only +last night, Mr. Flaxberg, I am locking up the place when that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +feller comes up the stairs and says to me I should give him the +key, as he forgets a package which he left behind him. Mind you, +it is already half-past six, Mr. Flaxberg; and ever since I am +living up in the Bronix, Mr. Flaxberg, I am getting kicked out of +six places where I am boarding on account no respectable family +would stand it, Mr. Flaxberg, that a feller comes, night after +night, nine o'clock to his dinner."</p> + +<p>"You was telling me about Lubliner," Flaxberg reminded him.</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Markulies continued. "So I says to him the place +is closed and that's all there is to it. With that, Mr. Flaxberg, +the feller takes back his hand—so—and he gives me a <i>schlag</i> in +the stummick, which, honest, if he wouldn't be from Mr. Polatkin +a relation, Mr. Flaxberg, I would right then and there killed +him."</p> + +<p>For two minutes he patted gently that portion of his anatomy +where Elkan's blow had landed.</p> + +<p>"He's a dangerous feller, Mr. Flaxberg," he went on, "because, +just so soon as he opens the door after I am giving him the key, +Mr. Flaxberg, he shuts it in my face and springs the bolt on me, +Mr. Flaxberg—and there I am standing <i>bis</i> pretty near eight +o'clock, understand me, till that feller comes out again. By the +time I am at my room on Brook Avenue, Mr. Flaxberg, the way Mrs. +Kaller speaks to me you would think I was a dawg yet. How<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> should +I know she is getting tickets for the theaytre that evening, Mr. +Flaxberg? And anyhow, Mr. Flaxberg, if people could afford to +spend their money going on theaytre, understand me, they don't +need to keep boarders at all—especially when I am getting night +after night boiled <i>Brustdeckel</i> only. I says to her, 'Mrs. +Kaller,' I says to her, 'why don't you give me once in a while a +change?' I says——"</p> + +<p>"Did Lubliner have anything with him when he came out?" Flaxberg +interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Well, sure; he'd got the package he forgets, and how a feller +could forget a package that size, Mr. Flaxberg—honestly, you +wouldn't believe at all! That's what it is to be a relation to +the boss, Mr. Flaxberg. If I would got such a memory, understand +me, I would of been fired long since already. Yes, Mr. Flaxberg, +I says to Mrs. Kaller, 'For three and a half dollars a week a +feller should get night after night <i>Brustdeckel</i>—it's a +shame—honest!' I says; and—<i>stiegen</i>! There's Mr. Scheikowitz!"</p> + +<p>As he spoke he seized a feather duster and began to wield it +vigorously, so that by the time Philip Scheikowitz reached the +showroom door a dense cloud of dust testified to Markulies's +industry.</p> + +<p>"That'll do, Sam!" Philip cried. "What do you want to do +here—choke us all to death?"</p> + +<p>Gradually the dust subsided and disclosed to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> Philip's astonished +gaze Harry Flaxberg seated on a sample table and apparently lost +in the perusal of the <i>Daily Cloak and Suit Record</i>.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Mr. Scheikowitz," he said heartily, but Philip +only grunted in reply. Moreover, he walked hurriedly past +Flaxberg and closed the office door behind him with a resounding +bang, for he, too, had sought the advice of counsel the previous +evening; and on that advice he had left his bed before daylight, +only to find himself forestalled by the wily Flaxberg. Nor was +his chagrin at all decreased by Polatkin, who had promised to +meet his partner at quarter-past seven. Instead he arrived an +hour later and immediately proceeded to upbraid Scheikowitz for +Flaxberg's punctuality.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean that feller gets here before you?" he cried. +"Didn't you hear it the lawyer distinctively told you you should +get here before Flaxberg, and when Flaxberg arrives you should +tell him he is fired on account he is late? Honestly, +Scheikowitz, I don't know what comes over you lately the way you +are acting. Here we are paying the lawyer ten dollars he should +give us an advice, understand me, and we might just so well throw +our money in the streets!"</p> + +<p>"But Flaxberg wasn't late, Polatkin," Scheikowitz protested. "He +was early."</p> + +<p>"Don't argue with me, Scheikowitz," Polatkin said. "Let's go +outside and talk to him."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>Philip shrugged despairingly as they walked to the office door.</p> + +<p>"Flaxberg," he began as he discerned the city salesman again +using a sample table for a footstool, "don't let us disturb you +if you ain't through reading the paper yet."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Flaxberg," Polatkin added, "you could get down here so +early like you would be sleeping in the place all night yet, and +what is it? Take from the table the feet, Flaxberg, and be a man. +We got something to say to you."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead, Mr. Polatkin," Flaxberg said as he leisurely brought +his feet to the floor. "I'm listening."</p> + +<p>"In the first place, Flaxberg," Polatkin said, "did it ever occur +to you that, even if your uncle would got fired up to Appenweier +& Murray's, Redman designs for us a line of garments here which +them people might be interested in anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Yow</i>, they would be interested in our line!" Flaxberg cried. +"Lapin wouldn't buy only Sammet Brothers' line if we got Worth +and Paquin both working for us as designers. You couldn't +convince him otherwise, Mr. Polatkin."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Polatkin went on; "but it wouldn't do no harm +for you to anyhow see the feller and show him a couple garments +which we got it here. Take for instance them 1080's, which we are +selling Fine Brothers, <i>oder</i> that 2060—that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> overskirt effect +with the gilt net yoke and peacock-feather-design braid, +Flaxberg. Them two styles made a big hit, Flaxberg. They are all +hanging on that end rack there, Flaxberg, and you could look at +'em for yourself."</p> + +<p>Polatkin walked across the showroom to the rack in question.</p> + +<p>"Especially the 2060's," he said as he pulled aside the heavy +denim curtain which protected the contents of the rack, "which +you could really say is——"</p> + +<p>Here he paused abruptly—for, with the exception of a dozen +wooden hangers, the rack was empty.</p> + +<p>"What's this, Scheikowitz?" he cried with a sweep of his hand in +the direction of the rack. "Where is all them 1080's and 2060's?"</p> + +<p>Hastily the two partners examined every rack in the showroom; and +not only did they fail to discover the missing samples, but they +ascertained that, in addition, seven other choice styles had +disappeared.</p> + +<p>"See maybe is Redman using 'em in the cutting room," Scheikowitz +suggested; and forthwith they made a canvass of the cutting room +and factory, in which they were joined by Markulies.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, Mr. Scheikowitz?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"We are missing a dozen sample garments," Scheikowitz replied.</p> + +<p>"Missing!" Markulies loudly exclaimed. "What<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> d'ye mean—missing, +Mr. Scheikowitz? Last night, when I was covering up the racks, +everything was in place."</p> + +<p>Suddenly a wave of recollection swept over him and he gave tongue +like a foxhound.</p> + +<p>"Oo-oo-ee!" he wailed and sank into the nearest chair.</p> + +<p>"Markulies," Polatkin cried out, "for Heaven's sake, what is it?"</p> + +<p>"He must of <i>ganvered</i> 'em!" Markulies wailed. "Right in front of +my eyes he done it."</p> + +<p>"Who done it?" Scheikowitz cried.</p> + +<p>"Lubliner," Markulies moaned.</p> + +<p>"Lubliner!" Polatkin cried. "Do you mean Elkan Lubliner?"</p> + +<p>"That's what I said," Markulies went on. "Comes half-past six +last night, and that <i>ganef</i> makes me a <i>schlag</i> in the stummick, +Mr. Polatkin; and the first thing you know he goes to work and +steals from me my keys, Mr. Polatkin, and cleans out the whole +place yet."</p> + +<p>"Lubliner was here last night after we are going home?" Polatkin +asked.</p> + +<p>"Sure, he was," Markulies replied—"at half-past six yet."</p> + +<p>"Then that only goes to show what a liar you are," Polatkin +declared, "because myself I am letting Elkan go home at one +o'clock on account the feller is so sick, understand me, he could +hardly walk<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> out of the place at all. Furthermore, he says he is +going right straight to bed when he leaves here; so, if you want +to explain how it is the garments disappear when you are in the +place here alone, Markulies, go ahead with your lies. Might Mr. +Scheikowitz stole 'em maybe—or I did! What?"</p> + +<p>Markulies began to rock and sway in an agony of woe.</p> + +<p>"I should never stir from this here chair, Mr. Polatkin," +Markulies protested, "and my mother also, which I am sending her +to Kalvaria—regular like clockwork—ten dollars a month, she +should never walk so far from here <i>bis</i> that door, if that +<i>ganef</i> didn't come in here last night and make away with the +garments!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Koosh!</i>" Polatkin bellowed, and made a threatening gesture +toward Markulies just as Scheikowitz stepped forward.</p> + +<p>"That'll do, Polatkin," he said. "If the feller lies we could +easy prove it—ain't it? In the first place, where is Elkan?"</p> + +<p>"He must of been sick this morning on account he ain't here yet," +Polatkin said.</p> + +<p>"<i>Schon gut</i>," Scheikowitz rejoined; "if he ain't here he ain't +here, <i>verstehst du</i>, <i>aber</i> he is boarding with Mrs. Feinermann, +which her husband is Kupferberg Brothers' foreman—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Polatkin nodded and Scheikowitz turned to Markulies.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>"Markulies," he said, "do me the favour and stop that! You are +making me dizzy the way you are acting. Furthermore, Markulies, +you should put on right away your hat and run over to Kupferberg +Brothers' and say to Mr. B. Kupferberg you are coming from +Polatkin & Scheikowitz, and ask him is he agreeable he should let +Marx Feinermann come over and see us—and if he wants to know +what for tell him we want to get from him a recommendation for a +feller which is working for us."</p> + +<p>He turned to his partner as Markulies started for the stairway.</p> + +<p>"And a helluva recommendation we would get from him, too, I bet +yer!" he added. "Wasserbauer tells me Elkan was in his place +yesterday, and, though he don't watch every bit of food a +customer puts into his mouth, understand me, he says that he eats +dill pickles one right after the other; and then, Polatkin, the +young feller gets right up and walks right out of the place +without giving any order even. Wasserbauer says he knows it was +Elkan because one day I am sending him over to look for you +there. Wasserbauer asks him the simple question what he wants you +for, and right away Elkan acts fresh to him like anything."</p> + +<p>"He done right to act fresh," Polatkin said as they walked back +to the showroom. "What is it Wasserbauer's business what you want +me for?"</p> + +<p>"But how comes a young feller like him to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> eating at +Wasserbauer's?" Scheikowitz continued. "Where does he get the +money from he should eat there?"</p> + +<p>"The fact is"—said Flaxberg, who up to this point had remained a +silent listener to the entire controversy—"the fact is, Mr. +Scheikowitz, yesterday I am taking pity on the feller on account +he is looking sick; and I took him into Wasserbauer's and invited +him he should eat a little something."</p> + +<p>Here he paused and licked his lips maliciously.</p> + +<p>"And though I don't want to say nothing against the feller, +understand me," he continued, "he begins right away to talk about +horseracing."</p> + +<p>"Horseracing?" Polatkin cried.</p> + +<p>Flaxberg nodded and made a gesture implying more plainly than the +words themselves: "Can you beat it?"</p> + +<p>"Horseracing!" Scheikowitz repeated. "Well, what do you think of +that for a lowlife bum?"</p> + +<p>"And when I called him down for gambling, Mr. Polatkin, he walks +right out, so independent he is. Furthermore, though it's none of +my business, Mr. Polatkin," Flaxberg went on, "Markulies tells me +this morning early the same story like he tells you—before he +knew the goods was missing even."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I believe you," Polatkin retorted. "He was getting the +whole thing fixed up beforehand. That's the kind of <i>Rosher</i> he +is."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>As he spoke Markulies entered, and there followed on his heels +the short, stout figure of Marx Feinermann.</p> + +<p>"What did I told you?" Markulies cried. "The feller ain't home +sick at all. He eats his supper last night, and this morning he +is got two eggs for his breakfast even."</p> + +<p>"S'nough, Markulies!" Polatkin interrupted. "You got too much to +say for yourself. Sit down, Feinermann, and tell us what is the +reason Elkan ain't here this morning."</p> + +<p>"You tell me and I would tell you," Feinermann replied. "All I +know is the feller leaves my house the usual time this morning; +only before he goes he acts fresh to my wife like anything, Mr. +Polatkin. He kicks the coffee ain't good, even when my wife is +giving him two eggs to his breakfast anyhow. What some people +expects for three-fifty a week you wouldn't believe at all!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean—three-fifty a week?" Polatkin demanded. "He +pays your wife five dollars a week <i>schon</i> six months ago +already. He told me so himself."</p> + +<p>"I ain't responsible for what that boy tells you," Feinermann +said stolidly. "All I know is he pays me three-fifty a week; and +you would think he is used to eating chicken every day from <i>zu +Hause</i> yet, the way he is all the time kicking about his food."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>Markulies snorted indignantly.</p> + +<p>"He should got the <i>Machshovos</i> Mrs. Kaller hands it to me," he +said—"<i>gekochte Brustdeckel</i> day in, day out; and then I am +accused that I steal samples yet! I am sick and tired of it!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Stiegen!</i>" Polatkin cried. "Listen here to me, Feinermann. Do +you mean to told me the boy ain't paying you five dollars a week +board?"</p> + +<p>As Feinermann opened his mouth to reply the showroom door opened +and Elkan himself entered.</p> + +<p>"Loafer!" Scheikowitz roared. "Where was you?"</p> + +<p>Elkan made no reply, but walked to the centre of the showroom.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Polatkin," he said, "could I speak to you a few words +something?"</p> + +<p>Polatkin jumped to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Before you speak to me a few words something," he said, "I want +to ask you what the devil you are telling me lies that you pay +Mrs. Feinermann five dollars a week board?"</p> + +<p>"What are you bothering about that for now?" Scheikowitz +interrupted. "And, anyhow, you could see by the way the feller is +red like blood that he lies to you."</p> + +<p>"Furthermore," Feinermann added, "my wife complains to me last +night that young loafer takes her uptown yesterday on a wild +fool's errand, understand me, and together they get pretty near +kicked out of a drygoods store."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>"She told you that, did she?" Elkan cried.</p> + +<p>"That's what I said!" Feinermann retorted.</p> + +<p>"Then, if that's the case, Feinermann," Elkan replied, "all I can +say is, I am paying your wife five dollars a week board <i>schon</i> +six months already, and if she is holding out on you a dollar and +a half a week that's her business—not mine."</p> + +<p>"Don't make things worser as they are, Lubliner," Flaxberg +advised. "You are in bad, anyhow, and lying don't help none. What +did you done with the samples you took away from here?"</p> + +<p>"What is it your business what I done with 'em?" Elkan retorted.</p> + +<p>"Don't get fresh, Elkan!" Polatkin said. "What is all this about, +anyhow? First, you are leaving here yesterday on account you are +sick; next, you are going uptown with Mrs. Feinermann and get +kicked out of a drygoods store; then you come back here and steal +our samples."</p> + +<p>"Steal your samples!" Elkan cried.</p> + +<p>"You admitted it yourself just now," Flaxberg interrupted. "You +are a thief as well as a liar!"</p> + +<p>Had Flaxberg's interest in sport extended to pugilism, he would +have appreciated the manner in which Elkan's chest and arm +muscles began to swell under his coat, even if the ominous gleam +in Elkan's dark eyes had provided no other warning. As it was, +however, Elkan put into practice the knowledge gained by a +nightly attendance at the gymnasium on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> East Broadway. He stepped +back two paces, and left followed right so rapidly to the point +of Flaxberg's jaw that the impact sounded like one blow.</p> + +<p>Simultaneously Flaxberg fell back over the sample tables and +landed with a crash against the office partition just as the +telephone rang loudly. Perhaps it was as well for Flaxberg that +he was unprepared for the onslaught, since, had he been in a +rigid posture, he would have assuredly taken the count. Beyond a +cut lip, however, and a lump on the back of his head, he was +practically unhurt; and he jumped to his feet immediately. Nor +was he impeded by a too eager audience, for Markulies and +Feinermann had abruptly fled to the farthermost corner of the +cutting room, while Marcus and Philip had ducked behind a sample +rack; so that he had a clear field for the rush he made at Elkan. +He yelled with rage as he dashed wildly across the floor, but the +yell terminated with an inarticulate grunt when Elkan stopped the +rush with a drive straight from the shoulder. It found a target +on Flaxberg's nose, and he crumpled up on the showroom floor.</p> + +<p>For two minutes Elkan stood still and then he turned to the +sample racks.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Polatkin," he said, "the telephone is ringing."</p> + +<p>Polatkin came from behind the rack and auto<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>matically proceeded +to the office, while Scheikowitz peeped out of the denim +curtains.</p> + +<p>"You got to excuse me, Mr. Scheikowitz," Elkan murmured. "I +couldn't help myself at all."</p> + +<p>"You've killed him!" Scheikowitz gasped.</p> + +<p>"<i>Yow!</i> I've killed him!" Elkan exclaimed. "It would take a whole +lot more as that to kill a bum like him."</p> + +<p>He bent over Flaxberg and shook him by the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Hey!" he shouted in his ear. "You are ruining your clothes!"</p> + +<p>Flaxberg raised his drooping head and, assisted by Elkan, +regained his feet and staggered to the water-cooler, where Elkan +bathed his streaming nostrils with the icy fluid.</p> + +<p>At length Scheikowitz stirred himself to action just as Polatkin +relinquished the 'phone.</p> + +<p>"Markulies," Scheikowitz shouted, "go out and get a policeman!"</p> + +<p>"Don't do nothing of the kind, Markulies!" Polatkin declared. "I +got something to say here too."</p> + +<p>He turned severely to Elkan.</p> + +<p>"Leave that loafer alone and listen to me," he said. "What right +do you got to promise deliveries on them 2060's in a week?"</p> + +<p>"I thought——" Elkan began.</p> + +<p>"You ain't got no business to think," Polatkin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> interrupted. "The +next time you are selling a concern like Appenweier & Murray +don't promise nothing in the way of deliveries, because with +people like them it's always the same. If you tell 'em a week +they ring you up and insist on it they would got to got the goods +in five days."</p> + +<p>He put his hand on Elkan's shoulder; and the set expression of +his face melted until his short dark moustache disappeared +between his nose and his under lip in a widespread grin.</p> + +<p>"Come inside the office," he said—"you too, Scheikowitz. Elkan's +got a long story he wants to tell us."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Half an hour later, Sam Markulies knocked timidly at the office +door.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Polatkin," he said, "Marx Feinermann says to me to ask you +if he should wait any longer on account they're very busy over to +Kupferberg Brothers'."</p> + +<p>"Tell him he should come in here," Polatkin said; and Markulies +withdrew after gazing in open-mouthed wonder at the spectacle of +Elkan Lubliner seated at Polatkin's desk, with one of Polatkin's +mildest cigars in his mouth, while the two partners sat in +adjacent chairs and smiled on Elkan admiringly.</p> + +<p>"You want to speak to me, Mr. Polatkin?" Feinermann asked, as he +came in a moment afterward.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>"Sure," Polatkin replied as he handed the astonished Feinermann a +cigar. "Sit down, Feinermann, and listen to me. In the first +place, Feinermann, what for a neighborhood is Pitt Street to live +in? Why don't you move uptown, Feinermann?"</p> + +<p>"A foreman is lucky if he could live in Pitt Street even," +Feinermann said. "You must think I got money, Mr. Polatkin."</p> + +<p>"How much more a month would it cost you to live uptown?" +Polatkin continued. "At the most ten dollars—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Feinermann nodded sadly.</p> + +<p>"To a man which he is only a foreman, Mr. Polatkin, ten dollars +is ten dollars," he commented.</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Polatkin said; "but instead of five dollars a +week board, Elkan would pay you seven dollars a week, supposing +you would move up to Lenox Avenue. Ain't that right, Elkan?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, that's right," Elkan said. "Only, if I am paying him seven +dollars a week board, he must got to give Mrs. Feinermann a +dollar and a half extra housekeeping money. Is that agreeable, +Feinermann?"</p> + +<p>Again Feinermann nodded.</p> + +<p>"Then that's all we want from you, Feinermann," Polatkin added, +"except I want to tell you this much: I am asking Elkan he should +come uptown and live with me; and he says no—he would prefer to +stick where he is."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>Feinermann shrugged complacently.</p> + +<p>"I ain't got no objections," he said as he withdrew.</p> + +<p>"And now, Elkan," Polatkin cried, "we got to fix it up with the +other feller."</p> + +<p>Hardly had he spoken when there stood framed in the open doorway +the disheveled figure of Flaxberg.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>, Flaxberg," Polatkin said. "What d'ye want from us now?"</p> + +<p>"I am coming to tell you this, Mr. Polatkin," Flaxberg said +thickly through his cut and swollen lips: "I am coming to tell +you that I'm sick and so you must give me permission to go home."</p> + +<p>"Nobody wants you to stay here, Flaxberg," Polatkin answered.</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Flaxberg rejoined; "but if I would go home +without your consent you would claim I made a breach of my +contract."</p> + +<p>"Don't let that worry you in the least, Flaxberg," Polatkin +retorted, "because, so far as that goes, we fire you right here +and now, on account you didn't make no attempt to sell Appenweier +& Murray, when a boy like Elkan, which up to now he wasn't even a +salesman at all, could sell 'em one thousand dollars goods."</p> + +<p>Flaxberg's puffed features contorted themselves in an expression +of astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Lubliner sells Appenweier & Murray a bill of goods!" he +exclaimed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>By way of answer Polatkin held out the order slip for Flaxberg's +inspection.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Flaxberg declared. "I would make it hot for +you anyhow! You put this young feller up to it that he pretty +near kills me."</p> + +<p>"<i>Yow!</i> We put him up to it!" Polatkin retorted. "You put him up +to it yourself, Flaxberg. You are lucky he didn't break your neck +for you; because, if you think you could sue anybody in the +courts yet, we got for witness Feinermann, Markulies and +ourselves that you called him a liar and a thief."</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>, Polatkin," Scheikowitz said, "give him say a hundred +dollars and call it square."</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't give me five hundred dollars," Flaxberg shouted as +he started for the door, "because I would sue you in the courts +for five thousand dollars yet."</p> + +<p>Flaxberg banged the door violently behind him, whereat Polatkin +shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Bluffs he is making it!" he declared; and forthwith he began to +unfold plans for Elkan's new campaign as city salesman. He had +not proceeded very far, however, when there came another knock at +the door. It was Sam Markulies.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Flaxberg says to me I should ask you if he should wait for +the hundred dollars a check, or might you would mail it to him +maybe!" he said.</p> + +<p>Scheikowitz looked inquiringly at his partner.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>"Put on it, 'In full of all claims against Polatkin & Scheikowitz +or Elkan Lubliner to date,'" he said. "And when you get through +with that, Scheikowitz, write an 'ad' for an assistant cutter. +We've got to get busy on that Appenweier & Murray order right +away."</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THREE" id="CHAPTER_THREE"></a>CHAPTER THREE</h2> +<h2>A MATCH FOR ELKAN LUBLINER</h2> +<h3>MADE IN HEAVEN, WITH THE ASSISTANCE OF MAX KAPFER</h3> +</div> + +<p class="dropcap">"I WOULDN'T care if Elkan Lubliner was only eighteen even," +declared Morris Rashkind emphatically; "he ain't too young to +marry B. Maslik's a <i>Tochter</i>. There's a feller which he has got +in improved property alone, understand me, an equity of a hundred +to a hundred and fifty thousand dollars; and if you would count +second mortgages and Bronix lots, Mr. Polatkin, the feller is +worth easy his quarter of a million dollars."</p> + +<p>"Sure I know," Polatkin retorted. "With such a feller, he gives +his daughter when she gets married five thousand dollars a second +mortgage, understand me; and the most the <i>Chosan</i> could expect +is that some day he forecloses the mortgage and gets a deficiency +judgment against a dummy bondsman which all his life he never got +money enough to pay his laundry bills even!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Oser a Stück!</i>" Rashkind protested. "He says to me, so sure as +you are sitting there, 'Mr. Rash<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>kind,' he says, 'my dear +friend,' he says, 'Birdie is my only <i>Tochter</i>. I ain't got no +other one,' he says, '<i>Gott sei Dank</i>,' he says; 'and the least I +could do for her is five thousand dollars cash,' he says, 'in a +certified check,' he says, 'before the feller goes under the +<i>Chuppah</i> at all.'"</p> + +<p>"With a feller like B. Maslik," Polatkin commented, "it ain't +necessary for him to talk that way, Rashkind, because if he wants +to get an up-to-date business man for his daughter, understand +me, he couldn't expect the feller is going to take chances on an +uncertified check <i>oder</i> a promissory note."</p> + +<p>"That's all right, Mr. Polatkin," Rashkind said. "B. Maslik's +promissory note is just so good as his certified check, Mr. +Polatkin. With that feller I wouldn't want his promissory note +even. His word in the presence of a couple of bright, +level-headed witnesses, which a lawyer couldn't rattle 'em on the +stand, <i>verstehst du</i>, would be good enough for me, Mr. Polatkin. +B. Maslik, y'understand, is absolutely good like diamonds, Mr. +Polatkin."</p> + +<p>"All right," Polatkin said. "I'll speak to Elkan about it. He'll +be back from the road Saturday."</p> + +<p>"Speak nothing," Rashkind cried excitedly. "Saturday would be too +late. Everybody is working on this here proposition, Mr. +Polatkin. Because the way property is so dead nowadays all the +real estaters tries to be a <i>Shadchen</i>, understand me; so if you +wouldn't want Miss Maslik to slip through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> Elkan's fingers, write +him this afternoon yet. I got a fountain pen right here."</p> + +<p>As he spoke he produced a fountain pen of formidable dimensions +and handed it to Polatkin.</p> + +<p>"I'll take the letter along with me and mail it," Rashkind +continued as Marcus made a preliminary flourish.</p> + +<p>"Tell him," Rashkind went on, "that the girl is something which +you could really call beautiful."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't tell him nothing of the sort," Polatkin said, +"because, in the first place, what for a <i>Schreiber</i> you think I +am anyway? And, in the second place, Rashkind, Elkan is so full +of business, understand me, if I would write him to come home on +account this here Miss Maslik is such a good-looker he wouldn't +come at all."</p> + +<p>Rashkind shrugged.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," he said. "Do it your own way."</p> + +<p>For more than five minutes Polatkin indited his message to Elkan +and at last he inclosed it in an envelope.</p> + +<p>"How would you spell Bridgetown?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Which Bridgetown?" Rashkind inquired—"Bridgetown, Pennsylvania, +<i>oder</i> Bridgetown, Illinois?"</p> + +<p>"What difference does that make?" Polatkin demanded.</p> + +<p>"About the spelling it don't make no difference," Rashkind +replied. "Bridgetown is spelt B-r-i-d-g-e-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>t-a-u-n, all the world +over; <i>aber</i> if it's Bridgetown, Pennsylvania, that's a very +funny quincidence, on account I am just now talking to a feller +which formerly keeps a store there by the name Flixman."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean Julius Flixman?" Marcus asked as he licked the +envelope.</p> + +<p>"That's the feller," Rashkind said with a sigh as he pocketed the +letter to Elkan. "It's a funny world, Mr. Polatkin. Him and me +comes over together in one steamer yet, thirty years ago; and +to-day if that feller's worth a cent he's worth fifty thousand +dollars."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Marcus agreed; "and <i>Gott soll hüten</i> you and I +should got what he's got it. He could drop down in the streets +any moment, Rashkind." Rashkind nodded as he rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"In a way, it's his own fault," he said, "because a feller which +he could afford to ride round in taxicabs yet ain't got no +business walking the streets in his condition. I told him this +morning: 'Julius,' I says, 'if I was one of your heirs,' I says +to him, 'I wouldn't want nothing better as to see you hanging +round the real-estate exchange, looking the way you look!' And he +says to me: 'Rashkind,' he says, 'there is a whole lot worser +things I could wish myself as you should be my heir,' he says. +'On account,' he says, 'if a <i>Schlemiel</i> like you would got a +relation which is going to leave you money, Rashkind,' he says, +'it would be just your luck that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> the relation dies one day after +you do, even if you would live to be a hundred.'"</p> + +<p>He walked toward the door and paused on the threshold.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Polatkin," he concluded, "you could take it from me, if +that feller's got heart disease, Mr. Polatkin, it ain't from +overworking it. So I would ring you up to-morrow afternoon three +o'clock and see if Elkan's come yet."</p> + +<p>"I'm agreeable," Polatkin declared; "only one thing I got to ask +you: you should keep your mouth shut to my partner, on account if +he hears it that I am bringing back Elkan from the road just for +this here Miss Maslik, understand me, he would never let me hear +the end of it."</p> + +<p>Rashkind made a reassuring gesture with his right arm after the +fashion of a swimmer who employs the overhand stroke.</p> + +<p>"What have I got to do with your partner?" he said as he started +for the elevator. "If I meet him in the place, I am selling +buttons and you don't want to buy none. Ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Polatkin nodded and turned to the examination of a pile of +monthly statements by way of dismissing the marriage broker. +Moreover, he felt impelled to devise some excuse for sending for +Elkan, so that he might have it pat upon the return from lunch of +his partner, Philip Scheikowitz, who at that precise moment was +seated in the rear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> of Wasserbauer's café, by the side of Charles +Fischko.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Scheikowitz," Fischko said, "if you would really got +the feller's interest in heart, understand me, you wouldn't wait +till Saturday at all. Write him to-day yet, because this +proposition is something which you could really call remarkable, +on account most girls which they got five thousand dollars +dowries, Mr. Scheikowitz, ain't got five-thousand-dollar faces; +<i>aber</i> this here Miss Maslik is something which when you are +paying seventy-five cents a seat on theaytre, understand me, you +don't see such an elegant-looking <i>Gesicht</i>. She's a regular +doll, Mr. Scheikowitz!"</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Scheikowitz agreed; "that's the way it is with +them dolls, Fischko—takes a fortune already to dress 'em."</p> + +<p>Fischko flapped the air indignantly with both hands.</p> + +<p>"That's where you are making a big mistake," he declared. "The +Masliks got living in the house with 'em a girl which for years +already she makes all Miss Maslik's dresses and Mrs. Maslik's +also. B. Maslik told me so himself, Mr. Scheikowitz. He says to +me: 'Fischko,' he says, 'my Birdie is a girl which she ain't +accustomed she should got a lot of money spent on her,' he says; +'the five thousand dollars is practically net,' he says, 'on +account his expenses would be small.'"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>"Is she a good cook?" Scheikowitz asked.</p> + +<p>"A good cook!" Fischko cried. "Listen here to me, Mr. +Scheikowitz. You know that a <i>Shadchen</i> eats sometimes in pretty +swell houses. Ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Scheikowitz nodded.</p> + +<p>"Well, I am telling you, Mr. Scheikowitz, so sure as I am sitting +here, that I got in B. Maslik's last Tuesday a week ago already a +piece of plain everyday <i>gefüllte Hechte</i>, Mr. Scheikowitz, which +honestly, if you would go to Delmonico's <i>oder</i> the Waldorfer, +understand me, you could pay as high as fifty cents for it, Mr. +Scheikowitz, and it wouldn't be—I am not saying better—but so +good even as that there <i>gefüllte Hechte</i> which I got it by B. +Maslik."</p> + +<p>Scheikowitz nodded again.</p> + +<p>"All right, Fischko," he said, "I will write the boy so soon as I +get back to the office yet; but one thing I must beg of you: +don't say a word about this to my partner, y'understand, because +if he would hear that I am bringing home Elkan from the road just +on account of this <i>Shidduch</i> you are proposing, understand me, +he would make my life miserable."</p> + +<p>Fischko shrugged his shoulders until his head nearly disappeared +into his chest.</p> + +<p>"What would I talk to your partner for, Mr. Scheikowitz?" he +said. "I am looking to you in this here affair; so I would stop +round the day after to-morrow afternoon, Mr. Scheikowitz, and if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +your partner asks me something a question, I would tell him I am +selling thread <i>oder</i> buttons."</p> + +<p>"Make it buttons," Scheikowitz commented, as he rose to his feet; +"because we never buy buttons from nobody but the Prudential +Button Company."</p> + +<p>On his way back to his office Scheikowitz pondered a variety of +reasons for writing Elkan to return, and he had tentatively +adopted the most extravagant one when, within a hundred feet of +his business premises, he encountered no less a personage than +Julius Flixman.</p> + +<p>"<i>Wie geht's</i>, Mr. Flixman?" he cried. "What brings you to New +York?"</p> + +<p>Flixman saluted Philip with a limp handclasp.</p> + +<p>"I am living here now," he said. "I am giving up my store in +Bridgetown <i>schon</i> six months ago already, on account I enjoyed +such poor health there. So I sold out to a young feller by the +name Max Kapfer, which was for years working by Paschalson, of +Sarahcuse; and I am living here, as I told you."</p> + +<p>"With relations maybe?" Philip asked.</p> + +<p>"<i>Yow</i>, relations!" Flixman replied. "I used to got one sister +living in Bessarabia, Mr. Scheikowitz, and I ain't heard from her +in more as thirty years, and I guess she is dead all right by +this time. I am living at a hotel which I could assure you the +prices they soak me is something terrible."</p> + +<p>"And what are you doing round this neighborhood,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> Mr. Flixman?" +Philip continued by way of making conversation.</p> + +<p>"I was just over to see a lawyer over on Center Street," Flixman +replied.</p> + +<p>"A lawyer on Center Street!" Philip exclaimed. "A rich man like +you should got a lawyer on Wall Street, Mr. Flixman. Henry D. +Feldman is our lawyer, and——"</p> + +<p>"Don't mention that sucker to me!" Flixman interrupted. "Actually +the feller is got the nerve to ask me a hundred dollars for +drawing a will, and this here feller on Center Street wants only +fifty. I bet yer if I would go round there to-morrow or the next +day he takes twenty-five even."</p> + +<p>"But a will is something which is really important, Mr. Flixman."</p> + +<p>"Not to me it ain't, Scheikowitz, because, while I couldn't take +my money with me, Scheikowitz, I ain't got no one to leave it to; +so, if I wouldn't make a will it goes to the state—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe," Philip commented.</p> + +<p>"So I am leaving it to a Talmud Torah School, which it certainly +don't do no harm that all them young loafers over on the East +Side should learn a little <i>Loschen Hakodesch</i>. Ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"Sure not," Philip said.</p> + +<p>"Well," Flixman concluded as he took a firmer grasp on his cane +preparatory to departing, "that's the way it goes. If I would got +children to leave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> my money to I would say: 'Yes; give the lawyer +a hundred dollars.' But for a Talmud Torah School I would see 'em +all dead first before I would pay fifty even."</p> + +<p>He nodded savagely in farewell and shuffled off down the street, +while Philip made his way toward the factory, with his +half-formed excuse to his partner now entirely forgotten.</p> + +<p>He tried in vain to recall it when he entered his office a few +minutes later, but the sight of his partner spurred him to action +and immediately he devised a new and better plan.</p> + +<p>"Marcus," he said, "write Elkan at once he should come back to +the store. I just seen Flixman on the street and he tells me he's +got a young feller by the name Karpfer <i>oder</i> Kapfer now running +his store; and," he continued in an access of inspiration, "the +stock is awful run down there; so, if Elkan goes right back to +Bridgetown with a line of low-priced goods he could do a big +business with Kapfer."</p> + +<p>Polatkin had long since concocted what he had conceived to be a +perfectly good excuse for his letter, and he had intended to lend +it color by prefacing it with an abusive dissertation on "Wasting +the Whole Afternoon over Lunch"; but Scheikowitz' greeting +completely disarmed him. His jaw dropped and he gazed stupidly at +his partner.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" Scheikowitz cried. "Is it so strange we +should bring Elkan back here for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> the chance of doing some more +business? Three dollars carfare between here and Bridgetown +wouldn't make or break us, Polatkin."</p> + +<p>"Sure! Sure!" Marcus said at last. "I would—now—write him as +soon as I get back from lunch."</p> + +<p>"Write him right away!" Scheikowitz insisted; and, though Marcus +had breakfasted before seven that morning and it was then +half-past two, he turned to his desk without further parley. +There, for the second time that day, he penned a letter to Elkan; +and, after exhibiting it to his partner, he inclosed it in an +addressed envelope. Two minutes later he paused in front of +Wasserbauer's café and, taking the missive from his pocket, tore +it into small pieces and cast it into the gutter.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>"I suppose, Elkan, you are wondering why we wrote you to come +home from Bridgetown when you would be back on Saturday anyway," +Scheikowitz began as Elkan laid down his suitcase in the firm's +office the following afternoon.</p> + +<p>"Naturally," Elkan replied. "I had an appointment for this +morning to see a feller there, which we could open maybe a good +account; a feller by the name Max Kapfer."</p> + +<p>"Max Kapfer?" Polatkin and Scheikowitz exclaimed with one voice.</p> + +<p>"That's what I said," Elkan repeated. "And in order I shouldn't +lose the chance I got him to promise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> he would come down here +this afternoon yet on a late train and we would pay his +expenses."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean Max Kapfer, the feller which took over Flixman's +store?" Polatkin asked.</p> + +<p>"There's only one Max Kapfer in Bridgetown," Elkan replied, and +Polatkin immediately assumed a pose of righteous indignation.</p> + +<p>"That's from yours an idee, Scheikowitz," he said. "Not only you +make the boy trouble to come back to the store, but we also got +to give this feller Kapfer his expenses yet."</p> + +<p>"What are you kicking about?" Scheikowitz demanded. "You seemed +agreeable to the proposition yesterday."</p> + +<p>"I got to seem agreeable," Polatkin retorted as he started for +the door of the factory, "otherwise it would be nothing but +fight, fight, fight <i>mit</i> you, day in, day out."</p> + +<p>He paused at the entrance and winked solemnly at Elkan.</p> + +<p>"I am sick and tired of it," he concluded as he supplemented the +wink with a significant frown, and when he passed into the +factory Elkan followed him.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter now?" Elkan asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I want to speak to you a few words something," Polatkin began; +but before he could continue Scheikowitz entered the factory.</p> + +<p>"Did you got your lunch on the train, Elkan?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> Scheikowitz said; +"because, if not, come on out and we'll have a cup coffee +together."</p> + +<p>"Leave the boy alone, can't you?" Polatkin exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"I'll go right out with you, Mr. Scheikowitz," Elkan said as he +edged away to the rear of the factory. "Go and put on your hat +and I'll be with you in a minute."</p> + +<p>When Scheikowitz had reëntered the office Elkan turned to Marcus +Polatkin.</p> + +<p>"You ain't scrapping again," he said, "are you?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Oser a Stück</i>," Polatkin answered. "We are friendly like lambs; +but listen here to me, Elkan. I ain't got no time before he'll be +back again, so I'll tell you. As a matter of fact, it was me that +wrote you to come back, really. I got an elegant <i>Shidduch</i> for +you."</p> + +<p>"<i>Shidduch!</i>" Elkan exclaimed. "For me?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," Polatkin whispered. "A fine-looking girl by the name +Birdie Maslik, <i>mit</i> five thousand dollars. Don't say nothing to +Scheikowitz about it."</p> + +<p>"But," Elkan said, "I ain't looking for no <i>Shidduch</i>."</p> + +<p>"S-ssh!" Polatkin hissed. "Her father is B. Maslik, the 'Pants +King.' To-morrow night you are going up to see her <i>mit</i> +Rashkind, the <i>Shadchen</i>."</p> + +<p>"What the devil you are talking about?" Elkan asked.</p> + +<p>"Not a word," Polatkin whispered out of one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> corner of his mouth. +"Here comes Scheikowitz—and remember, don't say nothing to him +about it. Y'understand?"</p> + +<p>Elkan nodded reluctantly as Scheikowitz reappeared from the +office.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>, Elkan," Scheikowitz demanded, "are you coming?"</p> + +<p>"Right away," Elkan said, and together they proceeded downstairs.</p> + +<p>"Well, Elkan," Scheikowitz began when they reached the sidewalk, +"you must think we was crazy to send for you just on account of +this here Kapfer. Ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Elkan shrugged in reply.</p> + +<p>"But, as a matter of fact," Scheikowitz continued, "Kapfer ain't +got no more to do with it than Elia Hanové; and, even though +Polatkin would be such a crank that I was afraid for my life to +suggest a thing, it was my idee you should come home, Elkan, +because in a case like this delays is dangerous."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Scheikowitz," Elkan pleaded, "do me the favour and don't go +beating bushes round. What are you trying to drive into?"</p> + +<p>"I am trying to drive into this, Elkan," Scheikowitz replied: "I +have got for you an elegant <i>Shidduch</i>."</p> + +<p>"<i>Shidduch!</i>" Elkan exclaimed. "For me? Why, Mr. Scheikowitz, I +don't want no <i>Shidduch</i> yet a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> while; and anyhow, Mr. +Scheikowitz, if I would get married I would be my own +<i>Shadchen</i>."</p> + +<p>"<i>Schmooes</i>, Elkan!" Scheikowitz exclaimed. "A feller which is +his own <i>Shadchen</i> remains single all his life long."</p> + +<p>"That suits me all right," Elkan commented as they reached +Wasserbauer's. "I would remain single <i>und fertig</i>."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean, you would remain single?" Scheikowitz cried. "Is +some one willing to pay you five thousand dollars you should +remain single, Elkan? <i>Oser</i> a <i>Stück</i>, Elkan; and, furthermore, +this here Miss Birdie Maslik is got such a face, Elkan, which, +honest, if she wouldn't have a cent to her name, understand me, +you would say she is beautiful anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Miss Birdie Maslik!" Elkan murmured.</p> + +<p>"B. Maslik's a <i>Tochter</i>," Scheikowitz added; "and remember, +Elkan, don't breathe a word of this to Polatkin, otherwise he +would never get through talking about it. Moreover, you will go +up to Maslik's house to-morrow night with Charles Fischko, the +<i>Shadchen</i>."</p> + +<p>"Now listen here to me, Mr. Scheikowitz," Elkan protested. "I +ain't going nowheres with no <i>Shadchen</i>—and that's all there is +to it."</p> + +<p>"<i>Aber</i>, Elkan," Scheikowitz said, "this here Fischko ain't a +<i>Shadchen</i> exactly. He's really a real-estater, <i>aber</i> real +estate is so dead nowadays<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> the feller must got to make a living +somehow; so it ain't like you would be going somewheres <i>mit</i> a +<i>Shadchen</i>, Elkan. Actually you are going somewheres <i>mit</i> a +real-estater. Ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"It don't make no difference," Elkan answered stubbornly. "If I +would go and see a girl I would go alone, otherwise not at all. +So, if you insist on it I should go and see this here Miss Maslik +to-morrow night, Mr. Scheikowitz, I would do so, but not with +Rashkind."</p> + +<p>"Fischko," Scheikowitz interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Fischko <i>oder</i> Rashkind," Elkan said—"that's all there is to +it. And if I would get right back to the store I got just time to +go up to the Prince Clarence and meet Max Kapfer; so you would +excuse me if I skip."</p> + +<p>"Think it over Elkan," Scheikowitz called after him as Elkan left +the café, and three quarters of an hour later he entered Polatkin +& Scheikowitz' showroom accompanied by a fashionably attired +young man.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Polatkin," Elkan said, "shake hands with Mr. Kapfer."</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Mr. Kapfer?" Polatkin cried. "This here is my +partner, Philip Scheikowitz."</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Mr. Scheikowitz?" Kapfer said. "You are very +conveniently located here. Right in the heart of things, so to +speak. I see across the street is Bleimauer & Gittelmann. Them +people<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> was in to see me last week already and offered me a big +bargain in velvet suits, but I was all stocked up along that line +so I didn't hand them no orders."</p> + +<p>"Velvet suits ain't our specialty at all," Polatkin replied; "but +I bet yer if we never seen a velvet suit in all our lives, Mr. +Kapfer, we could work you up a line of velvet suits which would +make them velvet suits of Bleimauer & Gittelmann look like a +bundle of rags."</p> + +<p>"I don't doubt it," Kapfer rejoined; "but, as I said before, +velvet suits I am all stocked up in, as I couldn't afford to +carry very many of 'em."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Polatkin said as he led the way to the +showroom. "We got a line of garments here, Mr. Kapfer, which +includes all prices and styles." He handed Max a large mild cigar +as he spoke. "So let's see if we couldn't suit you," he +concluded.</p> + +<p>For more than two hours Max Kapfer examined Polatkin & +Scheikowitz' sample line and made so judicious a selection of +moderate-priced garments that Polatkin could not forbear +expressing his admiration, albeit the total amount of the +purchase was not large.</p> + +<p>"You certainly got the right buying idee, Mr. Kapfer," he said. +"Them styles is really the best value we got."</p> + +<p>"I know it," Kapfer agreed. "I was ten years with Paschalson, of +Sarahcuse, Mr. Polatkin, and what I don't know about a +popular-price line<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> of ladies' ready-to-wear garments, underwear +and millinery, Paschalson couldn't learn me. But that ain't what +I'm after, Mr. Polatkin. I'd like to do some high-price business +too. If I had the capital I would improve my store building and +put in new fixtures, understand me, and I could increase my +business seventy-five per cent and carry a better class of goods +too."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Polatkin said as they returned to the office. +"Everybody needs more capital, Mr. Kapfer. We ourselves could do +with a few thousand dollars more."</p> + +<p>He looked significantly at Elkan, who colored slightly as he +recognized the allusion.</p> + +<p>"I bet yer," Scheikowitz added fervently. "Five thousand dollars +would be welcome to us also." He nodded almost imperceptibly at +Elkan, who forthwith broke into a gentle perspiration.</p> + +<p>"Five thousand was just the figure I was thinking of myself," +Kapfer said. "With five thousand dollars I could do wonders in +Bridgetown, Mr. Scheikowitz."</p> + +<p>"I'm surprised Flixman don't help you out a bit," Elkan suggested +by way of changing the subject, and Kapfer emitted a mirthless +laugh.</p> + +<p>"That bloodsucker!" he said. "What, when I bought his store, Mr. +Scheikowitz, he took from me in part payment notes at two, four, +and six months; and, though I got the cash ready to pay him the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +last note, which it falls due this week already, I asked him he +should give me two months an extension, on account I want to put +in a few fixtures on the second floor. Do you think that feller +would do it? He's got a heart like a rock, Mr. Polatkin; and any +one which could get from him his money must got to blast it out +of him with dynamite yet."</p> + +<p>Polatkin nodded solemnly.</p> + +<p>"You couldn't tell me nothing about Flixman," he said as he +offered Kapfer a consolatory cigar. "It's wasting your lungs to +talk about such a feller at all; so let's go ahead and finish up +this order, Mr. Kapfer, and afterward Elkan would go uptown with +you." He motioned Kapfer to a seat and then looked at his watch. +"I didn't got no idee it was so late," he said. "Scheikowitz, do +me the favor and go over Mr. Kapfer's order with him while I give +a look outside and see what's doing in the shop."</p> + +<p>As he walked toward the door he jerked his head sideways at +Elkan, who a moment later followed him into the factory.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Elkan," he began. "While you and Scheikowitz was out for +your coffee, Rashkind rings me up and says you should meet him on +the corner of One Hundred and Twentieth Street and Lenox Avenue +to-night—not to-morrow night—at eight o'clock sure."</p> + +<p>"But Kapfer ain't going back to Bridgetown to-night," Elkan +protested. "He told me so him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>self on account he is got still to +buy underwear, millinery and shoes."</p> + +<p>"What is that our business?" Polatkin asked. "He's already bought +from us all he's going to; so, if he stays here, let them +underwear and millinery people entertain him. Blow him to dinner +and that would be plenty."</p> + +<p>Once more Elkan shrugged despairingly.</p> + +<p>"You didn't say nothing to Scheikowitz about it, did you?" +Polatkin inquired.</p> + +<p>"Sure I didn't say nothing to him about it," Elkan said; +"because——"</p> + +<p>"Elkan," Scheikowitz called from the office, "Mr. Kapfer is +waiting for you."</p> + +<p>Elkan had been about to disclose the conversation between himself +and Scheikowitz at Wasserbauer's that afternoon, but Marcus, at +the appearance of his partner, turned abruptly and walked into +the cutting room; and thus, when Elkan accompanied Max Kapfer +uptown that evening, his manner was so preoccupied by reason of +his dilemma that Kapfer was constrained to comment on it.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>"What's worrying you, Lubliner?" he asked as they seated +themselves in the café of the Prince Clarence. "You look like you +was figuring out the interest on the money you owe."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you the truth, Mr. Kapfer," Elkan<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> began, "I would +like to ask you an advice about something."</p> + +<p>"Go as far as you like," Kapfer replied. "It don't make no +difference if a feller would be broke <i>oder</i> in jail, he could +always give somebody advice."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's like this," Elkan said, and forthwith he unfolded the +circumstances attending his return from Bridgetown.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu!</i>" Kapfer commented when Elkan concluded his narrative. +"What is that for something to worry about?"</p> + +<p>"But the idee of the thing is wrong," Elkan protested. "In the +first place, I got lots of time to get married, on account I am +only twenty-one, Mr. Kapfer; and though a feller couldn't start +in too early in business, Mr. Kapfer, getting married is +something else again. To my mind a feller should be anyhow +twenty-five before he jumps right in and gets married."</p> + +<p>"With some people, yes, and others, no," Kapfer rejoined.</p> + +<p>"And in the second place," Elkan went on, "I don't like this here +<i>Shadchen</i> business. We are living in America, not <i>Russland</i>; +and in America if a feller gets married he don't need no help +from a <i>Shadchen</i>, Mr. Kapfer."</p> + +<p>"No," Kapfer said, "he don't need no help, Lubliner; but, just +the same, if some one would come to me any time these five years +and says to me,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> here is something a nice girl, understand me, +with five thousand dollars, y'understand, I would have been +married <i>schon</i> long since already." He cleared his throat +judicially and sat back in his chair until it rested against the +wall. "The fact is, Lubliner," he said, "you are acting like a +fool. What harm would it do supposing you would go up there +to-night with this here Rashkind?"</p> + +<p>"What, and go there to-morrow night with Fischko!" Elkan +exclaimed. "Besides, if I would go up there to-night with +Rashkind and the deal is closed, understand me, might Fischko +would sue Mr. Scheikowitz in the court yet."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," Kapfer declared. "Fischko couldn't sue nobody but +B. Maslik; so never mind waiting here for dinner. Hustle uptown +and keep your date with Rashkind." He shook Elkan by the hand. +"Good luck to you, Lubliner," he concluded heartily; "and if you +got the time stop in on your way down to-morrow morning and let +me know how you come out."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>When Elkan Lubliner arrived at the corner of One Hundred and +Twentieth Street and Lenox Avenue that evening, it might well be +supposed that he would have difficulty in recognizing Mr. +Rashkind, since neither he nor Rashkind had any previous +acquaintance. However, he accosted without hesitation a short, +stout person arrayed in a wrinkled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> frock coat and wearing the +white tie and gold spectacles that invariably garb the members of +such quasi-clerical professions as a <i>Shadchen</i>, a sexton or the +collector of subscriptions for a charitable institution. Indeed, +as Rashkind combined all three of these callings with the +occupation of a real-estate broker, he also sported a high silk +hat of uncertain vintage and a watch-chain bearing a Masonic +emblem approximating in weight and size a tailor's goose.</p> + +<p>"This is Mr. Rashkind, ain't it?" Elkan asked, and Rashkind bowed +solemnly.</p> + +<p>"My name is Mr. Lubliner," Elkan continued, "and Mr. Polatkin +says you would be here at eight."</p> + +<p>For answer Mr. Rashkind drew from his waistcoat pocket what +appeared to be a six-ounce boxing glove, but which subsequently +proved to be the chamois covering of his gold watch, the gift of +Rambam Lodge, No. 142, I. O. M. A. This Mr. Rashkind consulted +with knit brows.</p> + +<p>"That's right," he said, returning the watch and its covering to +his pocket—"eight o'clock to the minute; so I guess we would +just so well go round to B. Maslik's house if you ain't got no +objections."</p> + +<p>"I'm agreeable," Elkan said; "but, before we start, you should +please be so good and tell me what I must got to do."</p> + +<p>"What you must got to do?" Rashkind exclaimed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> "A question! You +mustn't got to do nothing. Act natural and leave the rest to me."</p> + +<p>"But," Elkan insisted as they proceeded down Lenox Avenue, +"shouldn't I say something to the girl?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, you should say something to the girl," Rashkind replied; +"but, if you couldn't find something to say to a girl like Miss +Birdie Maslik, all I could tell you is you're a bigger +<i>Schlemiel</i> than you look."</p> + +<p>With this encouraging ultimatum, Mr. Rashkind entered the portals +of a hallway that glittered with lacquered bronze and plaster +porphyry, and before Elkan had time to ask any more questions he +found himself seated with Mr. Rashkind in the front parlour of a +large apartment on the seventh floor.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Maslik says you should be so good and step into the dining +room," the maid said to Mr. Rashkind. Forthwith he rose to his +feet and left Elkan alone in the room, save for the presence of +the maid, who drew down the shades and smiled encouragingly on +Elkan.</p> + +<p>"Ain't it a fine weather?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Elkan looked up, and he could not resist smiling in return.</p> + +<p>"Elegant," he replied. "It don't seem like summer was ever going +to quit."</p> + +<p>"It couldn't last too long for me," the maid continued. "Might +some people would enjoy cold<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> weather maybe; but when it comes to +going up on the roof, understand me, and hanging out a big wash, +the summer is good enough for me."</p> + +<p>Elkan gazed for a moment at her oval face, with its kindly, +intelligent brown eyes.</p> + +<p>"You mean to say you got to do washing here?" he asked in shocked +accents.</p> + +<p>"Sure I do," she replied; "<i>aber</i> this winter I am going to night +school again and next summer might I would get a job as +bookkeeper maybe."</p> + +<p>"But why don't you get a job in a store somewheres?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I see myself working in a store all day, standing on my feet +yet, and when I get through all my wages goes for board!" she +replied. "Whereas, here I got anyhow a good room and board, and +all what I earn I could put away in savings bank. I worked in a +store long enough, Mr.——"</p> + +<p>"Lubliner," Elkan said.</p> + +<p>"——Mr. Lubliner; and I could assure you I would a whole lot +sooner do housework," she went on. "Why should a girl think it's +a disgrace she should do housework for a living is more as I +could tell you. Sooner or later a girl gets married, and then she +must got to do her own housework."</p> + +<p>"Not if her husband makes a good living," Elkan suggested.</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," she rejoined; "but how many girls which they are +working in stores gets not a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> rich man, understand me, but a man +which is only making, say, for example, thirty dollars a week. +The most that a poor girl expects is that she marries a poor man, +y'understand, and then they work their way up together."</p> + +<p>Elkan nodded. Unconsciously he was indorsing not so much the +matter as the manner of her conversation, for she spoke with the +low voice that distinguishes the Rumanian from the Pole or +Lithuanian.</p> + +<p>"You are coming from Rumania, ain't it?" Elkan asked.</p> + +<p>"Pretty near there," the maid replied. "Right on the border. I am +coming here an orphan five years ago; and——"</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>, Lubliner," cried a rasping voice from the doorway, "we got +our appointment for nothing—Miss Maslik is sick."</p> + +<p>"That's too bad," Elkan said perfunctorily.</p> + +<p>"Only a little something she eats gives her a headache," Rashkind +went on. "We could come round the day after to-morrow night."</p> + +<p>"That's too bad also," Elkan commented, "on account the day after +to-morrow night I got a date with a customer."</p> + +<p>"Well, anyhow, B. Maslik would be in in a minute and——"</p> + +<p>Elkan rose to his feet so abruptly that he nearly sent his chair +through a cabinet behind him.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>"If I want to be here Friday night," he said, "I must see my +customer to-night yet; so, young lady, if you would be so kind to +tell Mr. Maslik I couldn't wait, but would be here Friday night +with this here—now—gentleman. Come on, Rashkind."</p> + +<p>He started for the hall door almost on a run, with Rashkind +gesticulating excitedly behind him; but, before the <i>Shadchen</i> +could even grasp his coattails he had let himself hurriedly out +and was taking the stairs three at a jump.</p> + +<p>"Hey!" Rashkind shouted as he plunged down the steps after Elkan. +"What's the matter with you? Don't you want to meet Mr. Maslik?"</p> + +<p>Elkan only hurried the faster, however, for in the few minutes he +had been alone in the room with the little brown-eyed maid he had +made the discovery that marriage with the aid of a <i>Shadchen</i> was +impossible for him. Simultaneously he conceived the notion that +marriage without the aid of a <i>Shadchen</i> might after all be well +worth trying; and, as this idea loomed in his mind, his pace +slackened until the <i>Shadchen</i> overtook him at the corner of One +Hundred and Sixteenth Street.</p> + +<p>"Say, lookyhere, Lubliner!" Rashkind said. "What is the matter +with you anyway?"</p> + +<p>Elkan professed to misunderstand the question.</p> + +<p>"I've lost my address book," he said. "I had it in my hand when +you left me alone there and I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> must of forgotten it; so I guess +I'll go back and get it."</p> + +<p>"All right," Rashkind replied. "I'll go with you."</p> + +<p>Elkan wheeled round and glared viciously at the <i>Shadchen</i>.</p> + +<p>"You'll do nothing of the kind!" he roared. "You get right down +them subway steps or I wouldn't come up with you Friday night."</p> + +<p>"But what harm——" Rashkind began, when Elkan seized him by the +shoulder and led him firmly downstairs to the ticket office. +There Elkan bought a ticket and, dropping it in the chopper's +box, he pushed Rashkind on to the platform. A few minutes later a +downtown express bore the <i>Shadchen</i> away and Elkan ascended the +stairs in three tremendous bounds. Unwaveringly he started up the +street for B. Maslik's apartment house, where, by the simple +expedient of handing the elevator boy a quarter, he averted the +formality of being announced. Thus, when he rang the doorbell of +B. Maslik's flat, though it was opened by the little brown-eyed +maid in person, she had discarded the white apron and cap that +she had worn a few minutes before, and her hair was fluffed up in +becoming disorder.</p> + +<p>"You was telling me you are coming originally from somewheres +near Rumania," Elkan began without further preface, "and—why, +what's the matter? You've been crying?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>She put her fingers to her lips and closed the door softly behind +her. "They says I didn't got no business talking to you at all," +she replied, "and they called me down something terrible!"</p> + +<p>Elkan's eyes flashed angrily.</p> + +<p>"Who calls you down?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Mr. and Mrs. Maslik," she answered; "and they says I ain't got +no shame at all!"</p> + +<p>She struggled bravely to retain her composure; but just one +little half-strangled sob escaped her, and forthwith Elkan felt +internally a peculiar sinking sensation.</p> + +<p>"What do they mean you ain't got no shame?" he protested. "I got +a right to talk to you and you got a right to talk to me—ain't +it?"</p> + +<p>She nodded and sobbed again, whereat Elkan winced and dug his +nails into the palms of his hands.</p> + +<p>"Listen!" he pleaded. "Don't worry yourself at all. After this I +wouldn't got no use for them people. I didn't come here on my own +account in the first place, but——"</p> + +<p>Here he paused.</p> + +<p>"But what?" the little maid asked.</p> + +<p>"But I'm glad I came now," Elkan went on defiantly, "and I don't +care who knows it. <i>Wir sind alles Jehudim</i>, anyhow, and one is +just as good as the other."</p> + +<p>"Better even," she said. "What was B. Maslik in the old country? +He could <i>oser</i> sign his name<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> when he came here, while I am +anyhow from decent, respectable people, Mr. Lubliner."</p> + +<p>"I don't doubt it," Elkan replied.</p> + +<p>"My father was a learned man, Mr. Lubliner; but that don't save +him. One day he goes to Kishinef on business, Mr. Lubliner, +and——"</p> + +<p>Here her composure entirely forsook her and she covered her face +with her hands and wept. Elkan struggled with himself no longer. +He took the little maid in his arms; and, as it seemed the most +natural thing in the world to do, she laid her head against his +shoulder and had her whole cry out.</p> + +<p>Elkan spoke no word, but patted her shoulder gently with his +right hand.</p> + +<p>"I guess I'm acting like a baby, Mr. Lubliner," she said, after a +quarter of an hour had elapsed. To Elkan it seemed like an +acquaintance of many months as he clasped her more closely.</p> + +<p>"My name is Elkan, <i>Liebchen</i>," he said, "and we would send all +the heavy washing out."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>"Well, Lubliner," Kapfer cried as Elkan came into the café of the +Prince Clarence the following morning, "you didn't like +her—what?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't like her!" Elkan exclaimed. "What d'ye mean I didn't like +her?"</p> + +<p>"Why, the way you look, I take it you had a pretty rotten time +last night," Kapfer rejoined.</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about—rotten time?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> Elkan protested. "The +only thing is I feel so happy I didn't sleep a wink, that's all."</p> + +<p>Kapfer jumped to his feet and slapped Elkan on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean you're engaged!" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Sure!" Elkan replied.</p> + +<p>"Then I congradulate you a thousand times," Kapfer said +gleefully.</p> + +<p>"Once is plenty," Elkan replied.</p> + +<p>"No, it ain't," Kapfer rejoined. "You should got to be +congradulated more as you think, because this morning I am +talking to a feller in the clothing business here and he says B. +Maslik is richer as most people believe. The feller says he is +easy worth a quarter of a million dollars."</p> + +<p>"What's that got to do with it?" Elkan asked.</p> + +<p>"What's that got to do with it?" Kapfer repeated. "Why, it's got +everything to do with it, considering you are engaged to his only +daughter."</p> + +<p>"I am engaged to his only daughter? Who told you that, Mr. +Kapfer?"</p> + +<p>"Why, you did!" Kapfer said.</p> + +<p>"I never said nothing of the kind," Elkan declared, "because I +ain't engaged to Miss Maslik at all; in fact, I never even seen +her."</p> + +<p>Kapfer gazed earnestly at Elkan and then sat down suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Say, lookyhere, Lubliner," he said. "Are you crazy or am I? Last +night you says you are going<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> up with a <i>Shadchen</i> to see Birdie +Maslik, and now you tell me you are engaged, but not to Miss +Maslik."</p> + +<p>"That's right," Elkan replied.</p> + +<p>"Then who in thunder are you engaged to?"</p> + +<p>"That's just the point," Elkan said, as he passed his hand +through his hair. "I ain't slept a wink all night on account of +it; in fact, this morning I wondered should I go round there and +ask—and then I thought to myself I would get from you an advice +first."</p> + +<p>"Get from me an advice!" Kapfer exclaimed. "You mean you are +engaged to a girl and you don't know her name, and so you come +down here to ask me an advice as to how you should find out her +name?"</p> + +<p>Elkan nodded sadly and leaned his elbow on the table.</p> + +<p>"It's like this," he said; and for more than half an hour he +regaled Kapfer with a story that, stripped of descriptive and +irrelevant material concerning Elkan's own feelings in the +matter, ought to have taken only five minutes in the telling.</p> + +<p>"And that's the way it is, Mr. Kapfer," Elkan concluded. "I don't +know her name; but a poor little girl like her, which she is so +good—and so—and so——"</p> + +<p>Here he became all choked up and Kapfer handed him a cigar.</p> + +<p>"Don't go into that again, Lubliner," Kapfer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> said; "you told me +how good she is six times already. The point is you are in a hole +and you want me I should help you out—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Elkan nodded wearily.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, my advice to you is: <i>Stiegen</i>," Kapfer continued. +"Don't say a word about this to nobody until you would, anyhow, +find out the girl's name."</p> + +<p>"I wasn't going to," Elkan replied; "but there's something else, +Mr. Kapfer. To-night I am to meet this here other <i>Shadchen</i> by +the name Fischko, who is going to take me up to Maslik's house."</p> + +<p>"But I thought Miss Maslik was sick," Kapfer said.</p> + +<p>"She was sick," Elkan answered, "but she would be better by +to-night. So that's the way it stands. If I would go downtown now +and explain to Mr. Scheikowitz that I am not going up there +to-night and that I was there last night—and——" Here Elkan +paused and made an expressive gesture with both hands. "The fact +is," he almost whimpered, "the whole thing is such a <i>Mischmasch</i> +I feel like I was going crazy!"</p> + +<p>Kapfer leaned across the table and patted him consolingly on the +arm.</p> + +<p>"Don't make yourself sick over it," he advised. "Put it up to +Polatkin. You don't got to keep Scheikowitz's idee a secret now, +Lubliner, because sooner or later Polatkin must got to find it +out.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> So you should let Polatkin know how you was up there last +night, and that Rashkind wants you to go up there Friday night on +account Miss Maslik was sick, and leave it to Polatkin to flag +Scheikowitz and this here Fischko."</p> + +<p>"But——" Elkan began, when the strange expression of Kapfer's +face made him pause. Indeed, before he could proceed further, +Kapfer jumped up from his chair.</p> + +<p>"Cheese it!" he said. "Here comes Polatkin."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, Polatkin caught sight of them and almost ran across +the room.</p> + +<p>"Elkan!" he exclaimed. "<i>Gott sei Dank</i> I found you here."</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" Elkan asked.</p> + +<p>Polatkin drew forward a chair and they all sat down.</p> + +<p>"I just had a terrible fuss with Scheikowitz," he said. "This +morning, when I got downtown, I thought I would tell him what I +brought you back for; so I says to him: 'Philip,' I says, 'I want +to tell you something,' I says. 'I got an elegant <i>Shidduch</i> for +Elkan.'" He stopped and let his hand fall with a loud smack on +his thigh. "Oo-ee!" he exclaimed. "What a row that feller made +it! You would think, Elkan, I told him I got a pistol to shoot +you with, the way he acts. I didn't even got the opportunity to +tell him who the <i>Shidduch</i> was. He tells me I should mind my own +business<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> and calls me such names which honestly I wouldn't call +a shipping clerk even. And what else d'ye think he says?"</p> + +<p>Elkan and Kapfer shook their heads.</p> + +<p>"Why, he says that to-night, at eight o'clock, he himself is +going to have a <i>Shadchen</i> by the name Fischko take you up to see +a girl in Harlem which the name he didn't tell me at all; but he +says she's got five thousand dollars a dowry. Did he say to you +anything about it, Elkan?"</p> + +<p>"The first I hear of it!" Elkan replied in husky tones as he +averted his eyes from Polatkin. "Why, I wouldn't know the feller +Fischko if he stood before me now, and he wouldn't know me +neither."</p> + +<p>"Didn't he tell you her name?" Kapfer asked cautiously.</p> + +<p>"No," Polatkin replied, "because I says right away that the girl +I had in mind would got a dowry of five thousand too; and then +and there Scheikowitz gets so mad he smashes a chair on us—one +of them new ones we just bought, Elkan. So I didn't say nothing +more, but I rung up Rashkind right away and asks him how things +turns out, and he says nothing is settled yet."</p> + +<p>Elkan nodded guiltily.</p> + +<p>"So I got an idee," Polatkin continued. "I thought, Elkan, we +would do this: Don't come downtown to-day at all, and to-night I +would go up and meet Fischko and tell him you are practically<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +engaged and the whole thing is off. Also I would <i>schenk</i> the +feller a ten-dollar bill he shouldn't bother us again."</p> + +<p>Elkan grasped the edge of the table. He felt as if consciousness +were slipping away from him, when suddenly Kapfer emitted a loud +exclamation.</p> + +<p>"By jiminy!" he cried. "I got an idee! Why shouldn't I go up +there and meet this here Fischko?"</p> + +<p>"You go up there?" Polatkin said.</p> + +<p>"Sure; why not? A nice girl like Miss—whatever her name +is—ain't too good for me, Mr. Polatkin. I got a good business +there in Bridgetown, and——"</p> + +<p>"But I don't know what for a girl she is at all," Polatkin +protested.</p> + +<p>"She's got anyhow five thousand dollars," Kapfer retorted, "and +when a girl's got five thousand dollars, Mr. Polatkin, beauty +ain't even skin-deep."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Polatkin agreed; "but so soon as you see Fischko +and tell him you ain't Elkan Lubliner he would refuse to take you +round to see the girl at all."</p> + +<p>"Leave that to me," Kapfer declared. "D'ye know what I'll tell +him?" He looked hard at Elkan Lubliner before he continued. "I'll +tell him," he said, "that Elkan is already engaged."</p> + +<p>"Already engaged!" Polatkin cried.</p> + +<p>"Sure!" Kapfer said—"secretly engaged unbeknownst to +everybody."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>"But right away to-morrow morning Fischko would come down and +tell Scheikowitz that you says Elkan is secretly engaged, and +Scheikowitz would know the whole thing was a fake and that I am +at the bottom of it."</p> + +<p>"No, he wouldn't," Kapfer rejoined, "because Elkan would then and +there say that he is secretly engaged and that would let you +out."</p> + +<p>"Sure it would," Polatkin agreed; "and then Scheikowitz would +want to kill Elkan."</p> + +<p>Suddenly Elkan struck the table with his clenched fist.</p> + +<p>"I've got the idee!" he said. "I wouldn't come downtown till +Saturday—because we will say, for example, I am sick. Then, when +Fischko says I am secretly engaged, you can say you don't know +nothing about it; and by the time I come down on Saturday morning +I would be engaged all right, and nobody could do nothing any +more."</p> + +<p>"That's true too," Kapfer said, "because your date with Rashkind +is for to-morrow night and by Saturday the whole thing would be +over."</p> + +<p>Polatkin nodded doubtfully, but after a quarter of an hour's +earnest discussion he was convinced of the wisdom of Elkan's +plan.</p> + +<p>"All right, Elkan," he said at last. "Be down early on Saturday."</p> + +<p>"Eight o'clock sure," Elkan replied as he shook<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> Polatkin's hand; +"and by that time I hope you'll congratulate me on my +engagement."</p> + +<p>"I hope so," Polatkin said.</p> + +<p>"Me too," Kapfer added after Polatkin departed; "and I also hope, +Elkan, this would be a warning to you that the next time you get +engaged you should find out the girl's name in advance."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>"Yes, siree, sir," said Charles Fischko emphatically, albeit a +trifle thickly. "I guess you made a big hit there, Mr. Kapfer, +and I don't think I am acting previously when I drink to the +health of Mrs. Kapfer." He touched glasses with Max Kapfer, who +sat opposite to him at a secluded table in the Harlem Winter +Garden, flanked by two bottles of what had been a choice brand of +California champagne. "Née Miss Maslik," he added as he put down +his glass; "and I think you are getting a young lady which is not +only good-looking but she is got also a heart like gold. Look at +the way she treats the servant girl they got there! Honestly, +when I was round there this morning them two girls was talking +like sisters already!"</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Kapfer rejoined; "she's got a right to treat +that girl like a sister. She's a nice little girl—that servant +girl."</p> + +<p>"Don't I know it!" Fischko protested as he poured himself out +another glass of wine. "It was me that got her the job there two +years ago already; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> before I would recommend to a family like +B. Maslik's a servant girl, understand me, I would make sure she +comes from decent, respectable people. Also the girl is a +wonderful cook, Mr. Kapfer, simple, plain, everyday dish like +<i>gefüllte Hechte</i>, Mr. Kapfer; she makes it like it would be +roast goose already—so fine she cooks it. She learned it from +her mother, Mr. Kapfer, also a wonderful cook. Why, would you +believe it, Mr. Kapfer, that girl's own mother and me comes +pretty near being engaged to be married oncet?"</p> + +<p>"You don't say!" Kapfer commented.</p> + +<p>"That was from some years ago in the old country already," +Fischko continued; "and I guess I ought to be lucky I didn't do +so, on account she marries a feller by the name Silbermacher, +<i>olav hasholem</i>, which he is got the misfortune to get killed in +Kishinef. Poor Mrs. Silbermacher, she didn't live long, and the +daughter, Yetta, comes to America an orphan five years ago. Ever +since then the girl looks out for herself; and so sure as you are +sitting there she's got in savings bank already pretty near eight +hundred dollars."</p> + +<p>"Is that so?" Kapfer interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Fischko replied; "and when she is got a thousand, +understand me, I would find for her a nice young man, Mr. Kapfer, +which he is got anyhow twenty-five machines a contracting shop, +y'understand, and she will get married <i>und fertig</i>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> With such +good friends which I got it like Polatkin & Scheikowitz, I could +throw a little business their way, and the first thing you know +she is settled for life."</p> + +<p>Here Fischko drained his glass and reached out his hand toward +the bottle; but Kapfer anticipated the move and emptied the +remainder of the wine into his own glass.</p> + +<p>"Before I order another bottle, Fischko," he said, "I would like +to talk a little business with you."</p> + +<p>"Never mind another bottle," Fischko said. "I thought we was +through with our business for the evening."</p> + +<p>"With our business, yes," Kapfer announced; "but this story which +you are telling me about Miss Silbermacher interests me, Fischko, +and I know a young feller which he is got more as twenty-five +machines a contracting shop; in fact, Fischko, he is a salesman +which he makes anyhow his fifty to seventy-five dollars a week, +and he wants to get married bad."</p> + +<p>"He couldn't want to get married so bad as all that," Fischko +commented, "because there's lots of girls which would be only too +glad to marry a such a young feller—girls with money even."</p> + +<p>"I give you right, Mr. Fischko," Kapfer agreed; "but this young +feller ain't the kind that marries for money. What he wants is a +nice girl which she is good-looking like this here Miss +Silbermacher and is a good housekeeper, understand me; and from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +what I've seen of Miss Silbermacher she would be just the +person."</p> + +<p>"What's his name?" Fischko asked.</p> + +<p>"His name," said Kapfer, "is Ury Shemansky, a close friend from +mine; and I got a date with him at twelve o'clock on the corner +drug store at One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street that I should +tell him how I came out this evening." He seized his hat from an +adjoining hook. "So, if you'd wait here a few minutes," he said, +"I would go and fetch him right round here. Shall I order another +bottle before I go?"</p> + +<p>Fischko shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I got enough," he said; "and don't be long on account I must be +going home soon."</p> + +<p>Kapfer nodded, and five minutes later he entered the all-night +drug store in question and approached a young man who was seated +at the soda fountain. In front of him stood a large glass of +"Phospho-Nervino," warranted to be "A Speedy and Reliable Remedy +for Nervous Headache, Sleeplessness, Mental Fatigue and +Depression following Over-Brainwork"; and as he was about to +raise the glass to his lips Kapfer slapped him on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Cheer up, Elkan," he exclaimed. "Her name is Yetta Silbermacher +and she's got in savings bank eight hundred dollars."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean she's got money in savings bank?" Elkan protested +wearily, for the sleepless,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> brain-fatigued and depressed young +man was none other than Elkan Lubliner. "Did you seen her?"</p> + +<p>"I did," Kapfer replied; "and Miss Maslik's a fine, lovely girl. +The old man ain't so bad either. He treated me elegant and +Fischko thinks I made quite a hit there."</p> + +<p>"I ain't asking you about Miss Maslik at all," Elkan said. "I +mean Miss Silbermacher"—he hesitated and blushed—"Yetta," he +continued, and buried his confusion in the foaming glass of +"Phospho-Nervino."</p> + +<p>"That's just what I want to talk to you about," Kapfer went on. +"Did I understand you are telling Polatkin that you never seen +Fischko the <i>Shadchen</i> and he never seen you neither?"</p> + +<p>"That's right," Elkan replied.</p> + +<p>"Then come right down with me to the Harlem Winter Garden," +Kapfer said. "I want you to meet him. He ain't a bad sort, even +if he would be a <i>Shadchen</i>."</p> + +<p>"But what should I want to meet him for?" Elkan cried.</p> + +<p>"Because," Kapfer explained, "I am going to marry this here Miss +Maslik, Elkan; and I'm going to improve my store property, so +that my trade will be worth to Polatkin & Scheikowitz anyhow +three thousand dollars a year—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"What's that got to do with it?" Elkan asked.</p> + +<p>"It's got this much to do with it," Kapfer con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>tinued: "To-morrow +afternoon two o'clock I would have Polatkin and Scheikowitz at my +room in the Prince Clarence. You also would be there—and d'ye +know who else would be there?"</p> + +<p>Elkan shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Miss Yetta Silbermacher," Kapfer went on; "because I am going to +get Fischko to bring her down there to meet an eligible party by +the name Ury Shemansky."</p> + +<p>"What?" Elkan exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Ssh-sh!" Kapfer cried reassuringly. "I am going to introduce you +to Fischko right away as Ury Shemansky, provided he ain't so +<i>shikker</i> when I get back that he wouldn't recognize you at all."</p> + +<p>Elkan nodded and paid for his restorative, and on their way down +to the Harlem Winter Garden they perfected the details of the +appointment for the following afternoon.</p> + +<p>"The reason why I am getting Fischko to bring her down," Kapfer +explained, "is because, in the first place, it looks pretty +<i>schlecht</i> that a feller should meet a girl only once and, +without the help of a <i>Shadchen</i>, gets right away engaged to her; +and so, with Fischko the <i>Shadchen</i> there, it looks better for +you both. Furthermore, in the second place, a girl which is doing +housework, Elkan, must got to have an excuse, understand me; +otherwise she couldn't get away from her work at all."</p> + +<p>"But," Elkan said, "how do you expect that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> Yetta would go with a +<i>Shadchen</i> to see this here Ury Shemansky when she is already +engaged to me?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Schafskopf!</i>" Kapfer exclaimed. "Telephone her the first thing +to-morrow morning that you are this here Ury Shemansky and she +would come quick enough!"</p> + +<p>"That part's all right," Elkan agreed; "but I don't see yet how +you are going to get Polatkin and Scheikowitz there."</p> + +<p>Kapfer nodded his head with spurious confidence; for of this, +perhaps the most important part of his plan, he felt extremely +doubtful.</p> + +<p>"Leave that to me," he said sagely, and the next moment they +entered the Harlem Winter Garden to find Charles Fischko gazing +sadly at a solution of bicarbonate of soda and ammonia, a +tumblerful of which stood in front of him on the table.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Fischko," Kapfer said, "this is my friend Ury Shemansky, the +gentleman I was speaking to you about."</p> + +<p>"No relation to Shemansky who used to was in the customer pedler +business on Ridge Street?" Fischko asked.</p> + +<p>"Not as I've heard," Elkan said.</p> + +<p>"Because there's a feller, understand me, which he went to work +and married a poor girl; and ever since he's got nothing but +<i>Mazel</i>. The week afterward he found in the street a diamond ring +worth two hundred dollars, and the next month a green<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>horn comes +over with ten thousand rubles and wants to go as partners +together with him in business. In a year's time Shemansky +dissolves the partnership and starts in the remnant business with +five thousand dollars net capital. He ain't been established two +weeks, understand me, when a liquor saloon next door burns out +and he gets a thousand dollars smoke damage; and one thing +follows another, y'understand, till to-day he's worth easy his +fifty thousand dollars. That's what it is to marry a poor girl, +Mr. Shemansky." He took a pull at the tumbler of bicarbonate and +made an involuntary grimace. "Furthermore, I am knowing this here +Miss Silbermacher ever since she is born, pretty nearly!" Fischko +cried.</p> + +<p>"You did!" Elkan exclaimed. "Well, why didn't you tell me that, +Kapfer?"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't think of everything," Kapfer protested.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," Elkan said, turning to Fischko; "let me know all +about her—everything! I think I got a right to know—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"Sure you have," Fischko said as he cleared his throat +oratorically; and therewith he began a laudatory biography of +Yetta Silbermacher, while Elkan settled himself to listen. With +parted lips and eyes shining his appreciation, he heard a +narrative that justified beyond peradventure his choice of a +wife, and when Fischko concluded he smote the table with his +fist.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>"By jiminy!" he cried. "A feller should ought to be proud of a +wife like that!"</p> + +<p>"Sure he should," Kapfer said; "and her and Fischko would be down +at my room at the Prince Clarence to-morrow at two."</p> + +<p>He beckoned to the waiter. "So let's pay up and go home," he +concluded; "and by to-morrow night Fischko would got two matches +to his credit."</p> + +<p>"<i>K'mo she-néemar</i>," Fischko said as he rose a trifle laboriously +to his feet, "it is commanded to promote marriages, visit the +sick and bury the dead."</p> + +<p>"And," Kapfer added, "you'll notice that promoting marriages +comes ahead of the others."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>When Marcus Polatkin arrived at his place of business the +following morning he looked round him anxiously for his partner, +who had departed somewhat early the previous day with the avowed +intention of seeing just how sick Elkan was. As a matter of fact, +Scheikowitz had discovered Elkan lying on the sofa at his +boarding place, vainly attempting to secure his first few +minutes' sleep in over thirty-six hours; and he had gone home +truly shocked at Elkan's pallid and careworn appearance, though +Elkan had promised to keep the appointment with Fischko. Polatkin +felt convinced, however, that his partner must have discovered +the pretence of Elkan's indisposition, and his manner<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> was a +trifle artificial when he inquired after the absentee.</p> + +<p>"How was he feeling, Philip?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Pretty bad, I guess," Scheikowitz replied, whereat a blank +expression came over Polatkin's face. "The boy works too hard, I +guess. He ain't slept a wink for two days."</p> + +<p>"Why, he seemed all right yesterday when I seen him," Polatkin +declared.</p> + +<p>"Yesterday?" Scheikowitz exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"I mean the day before yesterday," Polatkin added hastily as the +elevator door opened and a short, stout person alighted. He wore +a wrinkled frock coat and a white tie which perched coquettishly +under his left ear; and as he approached the office he seemed to +be labouring under a great deal of excitement.</p> + +<p>"Oo-ee!" he wailed as he caught sight of Polatkin, and without +further salutation he sank into the nearest chair. There he bowed +his head in his hands and rocked to and fro disconsolately.</p> + +<p>"Who's this crazy feller?" Scheikowitz demanded of his partner.</p> + +<p>Polatkin shrugged.</p> + +<p>"He's a button salesman by the name Rashkind," Polatkin said. +"Leave me deal with him." He walked over to the swaying +<i>Shadchen</i> and shook him violently by the shoulder. "Rashkind," +he said, "stop that nonsense and tell me what's the matter."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>Rashkind ceased his moanings and looked up with bloodshot eyes.</p> + +<p>"She's engaged!" he said.</p> + +<p>"She's engaged!" Polatkin repeated. "And you call yourself a +<i>Shadchen</i>!" he said bitterly.</p> + +<p>"A <i>Shadchen</i>!" Scheikowitz cried. "Why, I thought you said he +was a button salesman."</p> + +<p>"Did I?" Polatkin retorted. "Well, maybe he is, Scheikowitz; but +he ain't no <i>Shadchen</i>. Actually the feller goes to work and +takes Elkan up to see the girl, and they put him off by saying +the girl was sick; and now he comes down here and tells me the +girl is engaged."</p> + +<p>"Well," Scheikowitz remarked, "you couldn't get no sympathy from +me, Polatkin. A feller which acts underhand the way you done, +trying to make up a <i>Shidduch</i> for Elkan behind my back yet—you +got what you deserved."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean I got what I deserved?" Polatkin said +indignantly. "Do you think it would be such a bad thing for +us—you and me both, Scheikowitz—if I could of made up a match +between Elkan and B. Maslik's a daughter?"</p> + +<p>"B. Maslik's a daughter!" Scheikowitz cried. "Do you mean that +this here feller was trying to make up a match between Elkan and +Miss Birdie Maslik?"</p> + +<p>"That's just what I said," Polatkin announced.</p> + +<p>"Then I can explain the whole thing," Scheiko<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>witz rejoined +triumphantly. "Miss Maslik had a date to meet Elkan last night +yet with a <i>Shadchen</i> by the name Charles Fischko, and that's why +B. Maslik told this here button salesman that his daughter was +engaged."</p> + +<p>Rashkind again raised his head and regarded Scheikowitz with a +malevolent grin.</p> + +<p>"<i>Schmooes!</i>" he jeered. "Miss Maslik is engaged and the +<i>Shadchen</i> was Charles Fischko, but the <i>Chosan</i> ain't Elkan +Lubliner by a damsight."</p> + +<p>It was now Polatkin's turn to gloat, and he shook his head slowly +up and down.</p> + +<p>"So, Scheikowitz," he said, "you are trying to fix up a +<i>Shidduch</i> between Elkan and Miss Maslik without telling me a +word about it, and you get the whole thing so mixed up that it is +a case of trying to sit between two chairs! You come down <i>mit</i> a +big bump and I ain't got no sympathy for you neither."</p> + +<p>"What was the feller's name?" Scheikowitz demanded hoarsely of +Rashkind, who was straightening out his tie and smoothing his +rumpled hair.</p> + +<p>"It's a funny quincidence," Rashkind replied; "but you remember, +Mr. Polatkin, I was talking to you the other day about Julius +Flixman?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Polatkin said, and his heart began to thump in +anticipation of the answer.</p> + +<p>"Well, Julius Flixman, as I told you, sold out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> his store to a +feller by the name Max Kapfer," Rashkind said and paused again.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu!</i>" Scheikowitz roared. "What of it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, this here Max Kapfer is engaged to be married to Miss +Birdie Maslik," Rashkind concluded; and when Scheikowitz looked +from Rashkind toward his partner the latter had already proceeded +more than halfway to the telephone.</p> + +<p>"And that's what your <i>Shadchen</i> done for you, Mr. Scheikowitz!" +Rashkind said as he put on his hat. He walked to the elevator and +rang the bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Scheikowitz," Rashkind added, "as a <i>Shadchen</i>, maybe I +am a button salesman; but I'd a whole lot sooner be a button +salesman as a thief and don't you forget it!"</p> + +<p>After the elevator had borne Rashkind away Scheikowitz went back +to the office in time to hear Marcus engaged in a noisy +altercation with the telephone operator of the Prince Clarence +Hotel.</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean he ain't there?" he bellowed. "With you it's +always the same—I could never get nobody at your hotel."</p> + +<p>He hung up the receiver with force almost sufficient to wreck the +instrument.</p> + +<p>"That'll do, Polatkin!" Scheikowitz said. "We already got half +our furniture smashed."</p> + +<p>"Did I done it?" Polatkin growled—the allusion being to the +chair demolished by Scheikowitz on the previous day.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>"You was the cause of it," Scheikowitz retorted; "and, anyhow, +who are you ringing up at the Prince Clarence?"</p> + +<p>"I'm ringing up that feller Kapfer," Polatkin replied. "I want to +tell that sucker what I think of him."</p> + +<p>Then it was that Kapfer's theory as to the effect of his +engagement on his relations with Polatkin & Scheikowitz became +justified in fact.</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't do nothing of the kind," Scheikowitz declared. "It +ain't bad enough that Elkan loses this here <i>Shidduch</i>, but you +are trying to Jonah a good account also! Why, that feller +Kapfer's business after he marries Miss Maslik would be easy +worth to us three thousand dollars a year."</p> + +<p>"I don't care what his business is worth," Polatkin shouted. "I +would say what I please to that highwayman!"</p> + +<p>"What do you want to do?" Scheikowitz pleaded—"bite off your +nose to spoil your face?"</p> + +<p>Polatkin made no reply and he was about to go into the showroom +when the telephone bell rang.</p> + +<p>"Leave me answer it," Scheikowitz said; and a moment later he +picked up the desk telephone and placed the receiver to his ear.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" he said. "Yes, this is Polatkin & Scheikowitz. This is +Mr. Scheikowitz talking."</p> + +<p>Suddenly the instrument dropped with a clatter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> to the floor; and +while Scheikowitz was stooping to pick it up Polatkin rushed into +the office.</p> + +<p>"Scheikowitz!" he cried. "What are you trying to do—break up our +whole office yet? Ain't it enough you are putting all our chairs +on the bum already?"</p> + +<p>Scheikowitz contented himself by glaring viciously at his partner +and again placed the receiver to his ear.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Mr. Kapfer," he said. "Yes, I heard it this morning +already. Them things travels fast, Mr. Kapfer. No, I don't blame +you—I blame this here Fischko. He gives me a dirty deal—that's +all."</p> + +<p>Here there was a long pause, while Polatkin stood in the middle +of the office floor like a bird-dog pointing at a covey of +partridges.</p> + +<p>"But why couldn't you come down here, Mr. Kapfer?" Scheikowitz +asked. Again there was a long pause, at the end of which +Scheikowitz said: "Wait a minute—I'll ask my partner."</p> + +<p>"Listen here, Polatkin," he said, placing his hand over the +transmitter. "Kapfer says he wants to give us from two thousand +five hundred dollars an order, and he wants you and me to go up +to the Prince Clarence at two o'clock to see him. He wants us +both there because he wants to arrange terms of credit."</p> + +<p>"I would see him hung first!" Polatkin roared, and Scheikowitz +took his hand from the transmitter.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>"All right, Mr. Kapfer," he answered in dulcet tones; "me and +Polatkin will both be there. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>He hung up the receiver with exaggerated care.</p> + +<p>"And you would just bet your life that we will be there!" he +said. "And that's all there is to it!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>At half-past one that afternoon, while Max Kapfer was enjoying a +good cigar in the lobby of the Prince Clarence, he received an +unexpected visitor in the person of Julius Flixman.</p> + +<p>"Why, how do you do, Mr. Flixman?" he cried, dragging forth a +chair.</p> + +<p>Flixman extended a thin, bony hand in greeting and sat down +wearily.</p> + +<p>"I don't do so good, Kapfer," he said. "I guess New York don't +agree with me." He distorted his face in what he intended to be +an amiable smile. "But I guess it agrees with you all right," he +continued. "I suppose I must got to congradulate you on account +you are going to be engaged to Miss Birdie Maslik."</p> + +<p>"Why, who told you about it?" Kapfer asked.</p> + +<p>"I met this morning a real-estater by the name Rashkind, which he +is acquainted with the Maslik family," Flixman replied, "and he +says it happened yesterday. Also they told me up at the hotel you +was calling there this morning to see me."</p> + +<p>"That's right," Kapfer said; "and you was out."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>"I was down to see a feller on Center Street," Flixman went on, +"and so I thought, so long as you wanted to fix up about the +note, I might just as well come down here."</p> + +<p>"I'm much obliged to you," Kapfer interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," Flixman continued. "When a feller wants to pay you +money and comes to see you once to do it and you ain't in, +understand me, then it's up to you to go to him; so here I am."</p> + +<p>"But the fact is," Kapfer said, "I didn't want to see you about +paying the money exactly. I wanted to see you about not paying +it."</p> + +<p>"About not paying it?" Flixman cried.</p> + +<p>"Sure!" Kapfer replied. "I wanted to see if you wouldn't give me +a year's extension for that last thousand on account I am going +to get married; and with what Miss Maslik would bring me, +y'understand, and your thousand dollars which I got here, I would +just have enough to fix up my second floor and build a +twenty-five-foot extension on the rear. You see, I figure it this +way." He searched his pocket for a piece of paper and produced a +fountain pen. "I figure that the fixtures cost me twenty-two +hundred," he began, "and——"</p> + +<p>At this juncture Flixman flipped his fingers derisively.</p> + +<p>"Pipe dreams you got it!" he said. "That store as it stands was +good enough for me, and it should ought to be good enough for +you. Furthermore,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> Kapfer, if you want to invest Maslik's money +and your own money, <i>schon gut</i>; but me, I could always put a +thousand dollars into a bond, Kapfer. So, if it's all the same to +you, I'll take your check and call it square."</p> + +<p>Kapfer shrugged resignedly.</p> + +<p>"I had an idee you would," he said, "so I got it ready for you; +because, Mr. Flixman, you must excuse me when I tell you that you +got the reputation of being a good collector."</p> + +<p>"Am I?" Flixman snapped out. "Well, maybe I am, Kapfer, but I +could give my money up, too, once in a while; and, believe me or +not, Kapfer, this afternoon yet I am going to sign a will which I +am leaving all my money to a Talmud Torah School."</p> + +<p>"You don't say so?" Kapfer said as he drew out his checkbook.</p> + +<p>"That's what I am telling you," Flixman continued, "because +there's a lot of young loafers running round the streets which +nobody got any control over 'em at all; and if they would go to a +Talmud Torah School, understand me, not only they learn 'em there +a little <i>Loschen Hakodesch</i>, y'understand, but they would also +pretty near club the life out of 'em."</p> + +<p>"I'll write out a receipt on some of the hotel paper here," +Kapfer said as he signed and blotted the check.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>"Write out two of 'em, so I would have a copy of what I am giving +you," Flixman rejoined. "It's always just so good to be +businesslike. That's what I told that lawyer to-day. He wants me +I should remember a couple of orphan asylums he's interested in, +and I told him that if all them suckers would train up their +children they would learn a business and not holler round the +streets and make life miserable for people, they wouldn't got to +be orphans at all. Half the orphans is that way on account they +worried their parents to death with their carryings-on, and when +they go to orphan asylums they get treated kind yet. And people +is foolish enough to pay a lawyer fifty dollars if he should draw +up a will to leave the orphan asylum their good hard-earned +money."</p> + +<p>He snorted indignantly as he examined Kapfer's receipt and +compared it with the original.</p> + +<p>"Well," he concluded as he appended his signature to the receipt, +"I got him down to twenty-five dollars and I'll have that will +business settled up this afternoon yet."</p> + +<p>He placed the check and the receipt in his wallet and shook hands +with Kapfer.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," he said. "And one thing let me warn you against: A +<i>Chosan</i> should always get his money in cash <i>oder</i> certified +check before he goes under the <i>Chuppah</i> at all; otherwise, after +you are married and your father-in-law is a crook, understand me, +you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> could kiss yourself good-bye with your wife's dowry—and +don't you forget it!"</p> + +<p>Max walked with him down the lobby; and they had barely reached +the entrance when Charles Fischko and Miss Yetta Silbermacher +arrived.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Fischko!" Max cried, as Flixman tottered out into the +street; but Fischko made no reply. Instead he suddenly let go +Miss Silbermacher's arm and dashed hurriedly to the sidewalk. Max +led Miss Silbermacher to a chair and engaged her immediately in +conversation. She was naturally a little embarrassed by her +unusual surroundings, though she was becomingly—not to say +fashionably—attired in garments of her own making; and she gazed +timidly about her for her absent lover.</p> + +<p>"Elkan ain't here yet," Max explained, "on account you are a +little ahead of time."</p> + +<p>Miss Silbermacher's brown eyes sparkled merrily.</p> + +<p>"I ain't the only one," she said as she jumped to her feet; for, +though the hands of the clock on the desk pointed to ten minutes +to two, Elkan Lubliner approached from the direction of the café. +He caught sight of them while he was still some distance away, +and two overturned chairs marked the last of his progress toward +them.</p> + +<p>At first he held out his hand in greeting; but the two little +dimples that accompanied Yetta's smile overpowered his sense of +propriety, and he embraced her affectionately.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>"Where's Fischko?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Both Kapfer and Miss Silbermacher looked toward the street +entrance.</p> + +<p>"He was here a minute ago," Kapfer said.</p> + +<p>"Did you tell him that I wasn't Ury Shemansky at all?" Elkan +inquired.</p> + +<p>"Sure I did," Miss Silbermacher replied, "and he goes on +something terrible, on account he says Mr. Kapfer told him last +night you was already engaged; so I told him I know you was +engaged because I am the party you are engaged to."</p> + +<p>She squeezed Elkan's hand.</p> + +<p>"And he says then," she continued, "that if that's the case what +do we want him down here for? So I told him we are going to meet +Mr. Polatkin and Mr. Scheikowitz, and——"</p> + +<p>"And they'll be right here in a minute," Kapfer interrupted; "so +you go upstairs to my room and I'll find Fischko and bring him up +also."</p> + +<p>He conducted them to the elevator, and even as the door closed +behind them Fischko came running up the hall.</p> + +<p>"Kapfer," he said, "who was that feller which he was just here +talking to you?"</p> + +<p>"What d'ye want to know for?" Kapfer asked.</p> + +<p>"Never mind what I want to know for!" Fischko retorted. "Who is +he?"</p> + +<p>"Well, if you must got to know," Kapfer said, "he's a feller by +the name Julius Flixman."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>"What?" Fischko shouted.</p> + +<p>"Fischko," Kapfer protested, "you ain't in no Canal Street coffee +house here. This is a first-class hotel."</p> + +<p>Fischko nodded distractedly.</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," he said. "Is there a place we could sit down +here? I want to ask you something a few questions."</p> + +<p>Kapfer led the way to the café and they sat down at a table near +the door.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead, Fischko," he said. "Polatkin and Scheikowitz will be +here any minute."</p> + +<p>"Well," Fischko began falteringly, "if this here feller is Julius +Flixman, which he is coming from Bessarabia <i>schon</i> thirty years +ago already, I don't want to do nothing in a hurry, Mr. Kapfer, +on account I want to investigate first how things stand."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean?" Kapfer demanded.</p> + +<p>"Why, I mean this," Fischko cried: "If this here Flixman is well +fixed, Kapfer, I want to know it, on account Miss Yetta +Silbermacher is from Flixman's sister a daughter, understand me!"</p> + +<p>Kapfer lit a cigar deliberately before replying. He was thinking +hard.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to tell me," he said at last, "that this here Miss +Silbermacher is Julius Flixman's a niece?"</p> + +<p>"That's what I said," Fischko replied. "He comes here from +Bessarabia thirty years ago already<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> and from that day to this I +never heard a word about him—Miss Silbermacher neither."</p> + +<p>"Ain't the rest of his family heard from him?" Kapfer asked +guardedly.</p> + +<p>"There ain't no rest of his family," Fischko said. "Mrs. +Silbermacher was his only sister, and she's dead over ten years +since."</p> + +<p>Kapfer nodded and drew reflectively on his cigar.</p> + +<p>"Well, Fischko," he said finally, "I wouldn't let Flixman worry +me none. He's practically a <i>Schnorrer</i>; he was in here just now +on account he hears I am going to marry a rich girl and touches +me for some money on the head of it. I guess you noticed that he +looks pretty shabby—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"And sick too," Fischko added, just as a bellboy came into the +café.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Copper!" he bawled, and Max jumped to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Right here," he said, and the bellboy handed him a card.</p> + +<p>"Tell them I'll be with them in a minute," he continued; "and you +stay here till I come back, Fischko. I won't be long."</p> + +<p>He followed the bellboy to the desk, where stood Polatkin and +Scheikowitz.</p> + +<p>"Good afternoon, gentlemen," he said.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Kapfer," Scheikowitz replied, "I guess I got to +congradulate you."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>"Sure!" Kapfer murmured perfunctorily. "Let's go into the Moorish +Room."</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with the café?" Polatkin asked; but +Scheikowitz settled the matter by leading the way to the Moorish +Room, where they all sat down at a secluded table.</p> + +<p>"The first thing I want to tell you, gentlemen," Kapfer said, "is +that I know you feel that I turned a dirty trick on you about +Elkan."</p> + +<p>Scheikowitz shrugged expressively.</p> + +<p>"The way we feel about it, Mr. Kapfer," he commented, "is that +bygones must got to be bygones—and that's all there is to it."</p> + +<p>"But," Kapfer said, "I don't want the bygones to be all on my +side; so I got a proposition to make you. How would it be if I +could fix up a good <i>Shidduch</i> for Elkan myself?"</p> + +<p>"What for a <i>Shidduch</i>?" Polatkin asked.</p> + +<p>"The girl is an orphan," Kapfer replied, "<i>aber</i> she's got one +uncle, a bachelor, which ain't got no relation in the world but +her, and he's worth anyhow seventy-five thousand dollars."</p> + +<p>"How do you know he's worth that much?" Polatkin demanded.</p> + +<p>"Because I got some pretty close business dealings with him," +Kapfer replied; "and not only do I know he's worth that much, but +I guess you do too, Mr. Polatkin, on account his name is Julius +Flixman."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>"Julius Flixman?" Scheikowitz cried. "Why, Julius Flixman ain't +got a relation in the world—he told me so himself."</p> + +<p>"When did he told you that?" Kapfer asked.</p> + +<p>"A couple of days ago," Scheikowitz replied.</p> + +<p>"Then that accounts for it," Kapfer said. "A couple of days ago +nobody knows he had a niece—not even Flixman himself didn't; but +to-day yet he would know it and he would tell you so himself."</p> + +<p>"But——" Scheikowitz began, when once again a page entered the +room, bawling a phonetic imitation of Kapfer's name.</p> + +<p>"Wanted at the 'phone," he called as he caught sight of Kapfer.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me," Kapfer said. "I'll be right back."</p> + +<p>He walked hurriedly out of the room, and Polatkin turned with a +shrug to his partner.</p> + +<p>"Well, Scheikowitz," he began, "what did I told you? We are up +here on a fool's errand—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Scheikowitz made no reply.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you, Polatkin," he said at length, "Flixman himself +says to me he did got one sister living in Bessarabia, and he +ain't heard from her in thirty years; and——"</p> + +<p>At this juncture Kapfer rushed into the room.</p> + +<p>"Scheikowitz," he gasped, "I just now got a telephone message +from a lawyer on Center Street, by the name Goldenfein, I should +come right down there. Flixman is taken sick suddenly and they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +find in his pocket my check and a duplicate receipt which he +gives me, written on the hotel paper. Do me the favour and come +with me."</p> + +<p>Fifteen minutes later they stepped out of a taxicab in front of +an old-fashioned office building in Center Street and elbowed +their way through a crowd of over a hundred people toward the +narrow doorway.</p> + +<p>"Where do yous think you're going?" asked a policeman whose broad +shoulders completely blocked the little entrance.</p> + +<p>"We was telephoned for, on account a friend of ours by the name +Flixman is taken sick here," Kapfer explained.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," the policeman said more gently; "but I guess you're +too late."</p> + +<p>"Is he dead?" Scheikowitz cried, and the policeman nodded +solemnly as he stood to one side.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>More than two hours elapsed before Kapfer, Polatkin, and +Scheikowitz returned to the Prince Clarence. With them was Kent +J. Goldenfein.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Kapfer," the clerk said, "there's a man been waiting for you +in the café for over two hours."</p> + +<p>"I'll bring him right in," Kapfer said, and two minutes afterward +he brought the gesticulating Fischko out of the café.</p> + +<p>"Do you think I am a dawg?" Fischko cried. "I've been here two +hours!"</p> + +<p>"Well, come into the Moorish Room a minute,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> Kapfer pleaded, +"and I'll fix everything up with you afterward."</p> + +<p>He led the protesting <i>Shadchen</i> through the lobby, and when they +entered the Moorish Room an impressive scene awaited them. On a +divan, beneath some elaborate plush draperies, sat Kent J. +Goldenfein, flanked on each side by Polatkin and Scheikowitz +respectively, while spread on the table in front of them were the +drafts of Flixman's will and the engrossed, unsigned copy, +together with such other formidable-looking documents as +Goldenfein happened to find in his pockets. He rose majestically +as Fischko entered and turned on him a beetling frown.</p> + +<p>"Is this the fellow?" he demanded sepulchrally, and Kapfer +nodded.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Fischko," Goldenfein went on, "I am an officer of the +Supreme Court and I have been retained to investigate the affairs +of Mr. Julius Flixman."</p> + +<p>"Say, lookyhere, Kapfer," Fischko cried. "What is all this?"</p> + +<p>Kapfer drew forward a chair.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, Fischko," he said, "and answer the questions that he +is asking you."</p> + +<p>"But——" Fischko began.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, Mr. Fischko," Goldenfein boomed, "you are wasting +our time here. Raise your right hand!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>Fischko glanced despairingly at Kapfer and then obeyed.</p> + +<p>"Do you solemnly swear," said Goldenfein, who, besides being an +attorney-at-law was also a notary public, "that the affidavit you +will hereafter sign will be the truth, the whole truth and +nothing but the truth, so help you God?"</p> + +<p>"But——" Fischko began again.</p> + +<p>"Do you?" Goldenfein roared, and Fischko nodded. Forthwith +Goldenfein plied him with such ingeniously fashioned questions +concerning the Flixman family that the answers presented a +complete history of all its branches. Furthermore, the affidavit +which Goldenfein immediately drew up lacked only such +confirmatory evidence as could easily be supplied to establish +the identity of Miss Yetta Silbermacher as Julius Flixman's only +heir-at-law; and, after Fischko had meekly signed the jurat, +Goldenfein rose ponderously to his feet.</p> + +<p>"I congratulate you, Mr. Polatkin," he said. "I think there is no +doubt that your nephew's fiancée will inherit Flixman's estate, +thanks to my professional integrity."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean your professional integrity?" Kapfer asked.</p> + +<p>"Why, if I hadn't refused to accept twenty-two dollars for +drawing the will and insisted on the twenty-five we had agreed +upon," Goldenfein explained, "he would never have suffered the +heart<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> attack which prevented his signing the will before he +died."</p> + +<p>"Died!" Fischko exclaimed. "Is Julius Flixman dead?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Koosh</i>, Fischko!" Polatkin commanded. "You would think you was +one of the family the way you are acting. Come down to our store +to-morrow and we would arrange things with you." He turned to +Kapfer.</p> + +<p>"Let's go upstairs and see Elkan—and Yetta," he said.</p> + +<p>Immediately they trooped to the elevator and ascended to the +seventh floor.</p> + +<p>"All of you wait here in the corridor," Kapfer whispered, "and +I'll go and break it to them." He tiptoed to his room and knocked +gently at the door.</p> + +<p>"Come!" Elkan cried, and Kapfer turned the knob.</p> + +<p>On a sofa near the window sat Elkan, with his arm surrounding his +fiancée's waist and her head resting on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Max!" he cried. "What's kept you? We must have been +waiting here at least a quarter of an hour!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FOUR" id="CHAPTER_FOUR"></a>CHAPTER FOUR</h2> +<h2>HIGHGRADE LINES</h2> +</div> + +<p class="dropcap">"SURE, I know, Mr. Scheikowitz," cried Elkan Lubliner, junior +partner of Polatkin, Scheikowitz & Company, as he sat in the +firm's office late one February afternoon; "but if you want to +sell a highgrade concern like Joseph Kammerman you must got to +got a highgrade line of goods."</p> + +<p>"Ain't I am telling you that all the time?" Scheikowitz replied. +"<i>Aber</i> we sell here a popular-price line, Elkan. So what is the +use talking we ain't ekvipt for a highgrade line."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean we ain't equipped, Mr. Scheikowitz?" Elkan +protested. "We got here machines and we got here fixtures, and +all we need it now is a highgrade designer and a couple really +good cutters like that new feller which is working for us."</p> + +<p>"That's all right, too, Elkan," Marcus Polatkin interrupted; "but +it ain't the ekvipment which it is so important. The reputation +which we got for selling a popular-price line we couldn't get rid +of so easy, understand me, and that <i>Bétzimmer</i> buyer of +Kammerman's wouldn't got no confidence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> in us at all. The way he +figures it we could just so much turn out a highgrade line of +goods here as you could expect a feller which is acting in a +moving pictures to all of a sudden sing like Charuso."</p> + +<p>"Besides," Scheikowitz added, "highgrade designers and really +good cutters means more capital, Elkan."</p> + +<p>"The capital you shouldn't worry about at all," Elkan retorted. +"Next week my Yetta gets falling due a second mortgage from old +man Flixman for five thousand dollars, and——"</p> + +<p>Polatkin made a flapping gesture with his right hand.</p> + +<p>"Keep your money, Elkan," he said. "You could got lots of better +ways to invest it for Yetta as fixing ourselves up to sell big +<i>Machers</i> like Joseph Kammerman."</p> + +<p>"But it don't do no harm I should drop in and see them people. +Ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"Sure not," Scheikowitz continued as he swung round in his +revolving chair and seized a pile of cutting clips. "They got an +elegant store there on Fifth Avenue which it is a pleasure to go +into even; and the worst that happens you, Elkan, is you are out +a good cigar for that Mr. Dalzell up there."</p> + +<p>Elkan nodded gloomily, and as he left the office Polatkin's face +relaxed in an indulgent smile.</p> + +<p>"The boy is getting awful ambitious lately, Scheikowitz," he +said.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>"What d'ye mean, ambitious?" Philip Scheikowitz cried angrily. +"If you would be only twenty-three years of age, Polatkin, and +married to a rich girl, understand me—and also partner in a good +concern, which the whole thing he done it himself, Polatkin—you +would act a whole lot more ambitious as he does. Instead of +knocking the boy, Polatkin, you should ought to give him credit +for what he done."</p> + +<p>"Who is knocking the boy?" Polatkin demanded. "All I says is the +boy is ambitious, Scheikowitz—which, if you don't think it's +ambitious a feller tries to sell goods to Joseph Kammerman, +Scheikowitz, what is it then?"</p> + +<p>"There's worser people to sell goods to as Joseph Kammerman, +Polatkin, which he is a millionaire concern, understand me," +Scheikowitz declared; "and you could take it from me, Polatkin, +even if you would accuse him he is ambitious <i>oder</i> not, that boy +always got idees to do big things—and he works hard till he +lands 'em. So if you want to call that ambitious, Polatkin, go +ahead and do so. When a loafer knocks it's a boost every time."</p> + +<p>With this ultimatum Scheikowitz followed his junior partner to +the rear of the loft, where Elkan regarded with a critical eye +the labors of his cutting-room staff.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>, Elkan," Scheikowitz asked, "what's biting you now?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>Elkan winked significantly—and a moment later he tapped an +assistant cutter on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Max," he said, "do you got maybe a grudge against that piece of +goods, the way you are slamming it round?"</p> + +<p>The assistant cutter smiled in an embarrassed fashion.</p> + +<p>"The fact is," he said apologetically, "I wasn't thinking about +them goods at all. When you are laying out goods for cutting, Mr. +Lubliner, you don't got to think much—especially pastel shades."</p> + +<p>"Pastel shades?" Elkan repeated.</p> + +<p>"That's what I said," the cutter replied. "<i>Mit</i> colors like reds +and greens, which they are hitting you right in the face, so to +speak, you couldn't get your mind off of 'em at all; but pastel +shades, that's something else again. They quiet you like smoking +a cigarette."</p> + +<p>Elkan turned to his partner with a shrug.</p> + +<p>"When I was working by B. Gans," the cutter went on, "I am laying +out a piece of old gold crêpe <i>mit</i> a silver-thread border, and I +assure you, Mr. Lubliner, it has an effect on me like some one +would give me a glass of schnapps already."</p> + +<p>"<i>Stiegen</i>, Max," said Elkan, moving away, "you got too much to +say for yourself."</p> + +<p>Max nodded resignedly and continued the spreading of the goods on +the cutting table, while Elkan and Scheikowitz walked out of the +room.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>"That's the new feller I was telling you about," Elkan said. +"<i>Meshugganeh</i> Max Merech they call him."</p> + +<p>"<i>Meshugga</i> he may be," Scheikowitz replied, "but just the same +he's got a couple of good idees also, Elkan. Only this morning he +makes Redman the designer pretty near crazy when he says that the +blue soutache on that new style 2060 kills the blue in the yoke, +y'understand; and he was right too, Elkan. Polatkin and me made +Redman change it over."</p> + +<p>Elkan shrugged again as he put on his hat and coat preparatory to +going home.</p> + +<p>"A lot our class of trade worries about such things!" he +exclaimed. "So far as they are concerned the soutache could be +crimson and the yoke green, and if the price was right they'd buy +it anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Don't you fool yourself, Elkan," Scheikowitz said while Elkan +rang for the elevator. "The price is never right if the +workmanship ain't good."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>That Elkan Lubliner's progress in business had not kept pace with +his social achievements was a source of much disappointment to +both Mrs. Lubliner and himself; for though the firm of Polatkin, +Scheikowitz & Company was still rated seventy-five thousand +dollars to one hundred thousand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> dollars—credit good—Elkan and +Mrs. Lubliner moved in the social orbit of no less a personage +than of Max Koblin, the Raincoat King, whose credit soared +triumphantly among the A's and B's of old-established commission +houses.</p> + +<p>Indeed it was a party at Max Koblin's house that evening which +caused Elkan to leave his place of business at half-past five; +and when Mrs. Lubliner and he sallied forth from the gilt and +porphyry hallway of their apartment dwelling they were fittingly +arrayed to meet Max's guests, none of whom catered to the +popular-price trade of Polatkin, Scheikowitz & Company.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you told him we are getting next week paid off for +five thousand dollars a second mortgage?" Yetta said, continuing +a conversation begun at dinner that evening.</p> + +<p>"I did told him," Elkan insisted; "but what is the use talking to +a couple of old-timers like them?"</p> + +<p>Yetta sniffed contemptuously with the impatience of youth at the +foibles of senility, as exemplified by the doddering Philip +Scheikowitz, aged forty-five, and the valetudinarian Marcus +Polatkin, whose hair, albeit unfrosted, had been blighted and in +part swept away by the vicissitudes of forty-two winters.</p> + +<p>"You can't learn an old dawg young tricks," Elkan declared, "and +we might just as well make up our minds to it, Yetta, we would +never compete<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> with such highgrade concerns like B. Gans <i>oder</i> +Schwefel & Zucker."</p> + +<p>They walked over two blocks in silence and then Elkan broke out +anew.</p> + +<p>"I tell you," he said, "I am sick and tired of it. B. Gans talks +all the time about selling this big <i>Macher</i> and that big +<i>Macher</i>, and him and Mr. Schwefel gets telling about what a +millionaire like Kammerman says to him the other day, or what he +says to Mandelberger, of Chicago, y'understand—and I couldn't +say nothing! If I would commence to tell 'em what I says to such +customers of ours like One-Eye Feigenbaum <i>oder</i> H. Margonin, of +Bridgetown, understand me, they would laugh me in my face yet."</p> + +<p>Yetta pressed his arm consolingly as they ascended the stoop of +Max Koblin's house on Mount Morris Park West, and two minutes +later they entered the front parlour of that luxurious residence.</p> + +<p>"And do you know what he says to me?" a penetrating barytone +voice announced as they came in. "He says to me, 'Benson,' he +says, 'I've been putting on musical shows now for fifteen years, +and an idee like that comes from a genius already. There's a +fortune in it!'"</p> + +<p>At this juncture Mrs. Koblin noted the arrival of the last of her +guests.</p> + +<p>"Why, hello, Yetta!" she cried, rising to her feet. "Ain't you +fashionable getting here so late?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>She kissed Yetta and held out a hand to Elkan as she spoke.</p> + +<p>"Ain't you ashamed of yourself, Elkan, keeping Yetta's dinner +waiting because you claim you're so busy downtown?" she went on. +"I guess you know everybody here except Mr. Benson."</p> + +<p>She nodded toward the promulgator of Heaven-born ideas, who bowed +solemnly.</p> + +<p>"Pleased to meet you, Mister——"</p> + +<p>"Lubliner," Elkan said.</p> + +<p>"Mister Lubliner," Benson repeated, passing his begemmed fingers +through a shock of black, curly hair. "And the long and short of +it is," he continued, addressing the company, "to-morrow I'm +getting a scenario along them lines I just indicated to you from +one of the highest-grade fellers that's writing."</p> + +<p>Here ensued a pause, during which B. Gans searched his mind for +an anecdote concerning some retailer of sufficiently good +financial standing, while Joseph Schwefel, of Schwefel & Zucker, +cleared his throat preparatory to launching a verbatim report of +a conversation between himself and a buyer for one of the most +exclusive costume houses on Fifth Avenue; but even as Schwefel +rounded his lips to enunciate an introductory "Er," Benson +obtained a fresh start.</p> + +<p>"Now you remember 'The Diners Out,' Ryan & Bernbaum's production +last season?" he said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> addressing Elkan. "In that show they had +an idee like this: Eight ponies is let down from the +flies—see?—and George DeFrees makes his entrance in a practical +airyoplane—I think it was George DeFrees was working for Ryan & +Bernbaum last year, or was it Sammy Potter?"</p> + +<p>At this point he screwed up his face and leaning his elbow on the +arm of his chair he placed four fingers on his forehead in the +attitude known theatrically as Business of Deep Consideration.</p> + +<p>"No," he said at last—"it was George DeFrees. George jumps out +of the airyoplane and says: 'They followed me to earth, I see.'"</p> + +<p>Benson raised his eyebrows at the assembled guests.</p> + +<p>"Angels!" he announced. "Get the idee? 'They followed me to +earth, I see.' Cue. And then he sings the song hit of the show: +'Come Take a Ride in My Airyoplane.'"</p> + +<p>B. Gans shuffled his feet uneasily and Joseph Schwefel pulled +down his waistcoat. As manufacturers of highgrade garments they +had accompanied more than one customer to the entertainment +described by Benson; but to Elkan the term "ponies" admitted of +only one meaning, and this conversational arabesque of flies, +little horses, aeroplanes and George DeFrees made him fairly +dizzy.</p> + +<p>"And," M. Sidney Benson said before B. Gans could head him off, +"just that there entrance boomed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> the show. Ryan & Bernbaum up to +date clears a hundred and twenty thousand dollars over and above +all expenses."</p> + +<p>"Better as the garment business!" Max Koblin commented—and B. +Gans nodded and yawned.</p> + +<p>"Ain't we going to have no pinocle?" he asked. Max rose and threw +open the sliding doors leading to the dining room, where cards +and chips were in readiness.</p> + +<p>"Will you join us, Mr. Benson?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"That'll make five with Mr. Lubliner," Benson replied; "so +supposing you, Gans and Schwefel go ahead, and Mr. Lubliner and +me will join you later. Otherwise you would got to deal two of us +out—which it makes a pretty slow game that way."</p> + +<p>"Just as you like," Max said; and after Mrs. Koblin and Yetta had +retired abovestairs to view the most recent accession to Mrs. +Koblin's wardrobe, Benson pulled up the points of his high collar +and adjusted his black stock necktie. Then he lit a fresh cigar +and prepared to lay bare to Elkan the arcana of the theatrical +business.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Lubliner," he said, "the show business is a business +like any other business. It ain't like you got an idee it +is—opening wine for a bunch of chickens, understand me, and +running round the streets till all hours of the morning."</p> + +<p>"I never got no such idee," Elkan protested.</p> + +<p>"You ain't, Mr. Lubliner," Benson continued,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> "because it's very +evidence to me that you don't know nothing about it; but there's +a whole lot of people got that idee anyhow, y'understand; and +what I am always trying to tell everybody is that the show +business is like the garment business <i>oder</i> the drygoods +business—a business for a business man, not a loafer!"</p> + +<p>Elkan made an inarticulate noise which Benson took to be an +expression of interest and encouragement.</p> + +<p>"At the same time art has got a whole lot to do with it," he went +on—"art and idees; and when you take a feller like Ryan, which +he could write a show, write the music, put it on and play the +leading part all by himself, y'understand, and a feller like +Bernbaum, which used to was Miller, Bernbaum & Company in the +pants business—you got there an ideel combination!"</p> + +<p>Elkan nodded and looked helplessly round him at the Circassian +walnut, of which half a forestful had gone to make up the +furnishings of Koblin's front parlor.</p> + +<p>"But," Benson said emphatically, "you take me, for instance—and +what was I?"</p> + +<p>He told off his former occupations with the index finger of his +right hand on each digit of his left.</p> + +<p>"First I was a salesman; second I was for myself in the infants' +wear business; third I was <i>noch einmal</i> a salesman. Then I +become an actor, because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> everybody knows my act, which I called +it 'Your Old Friend Maslowsky.' For four years I played all the +first-class vaudeville circuits here and on the other side in +England. But though I made good money, Mr. Lubliner, the real big +money is in the producing end."</p> + +<p>"Huh-huh!" Elkan ejaculated.</p> + +<p>"So that's the way it is with me, Mr. Lubliner," Benson +continued. "I am just like Ryan & Bernbaum, only instead of two +partners there is only just one; which I got the art, the idees +and the business ability all in myself!"</p> + +<p>"That must make it very handy for you," Elkan commented.</p> + +<p>"Handy ain't no name for it," Benson replied. "It's something you +don't see nowheres else in the show business; but I'll tell you +the truth, Mr. Lubliner—the work is too much for me!"</p> + +<p>"Why don't you get a partner?" Elkan asked.</p> + +<p>Benson made a circular gesture with his right hand.</p> + +<p>"I could get lots of partners with big money, Mr. Lubliner," he +said, "but why should I divide my profits? Am I right or wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Well, that depends how you are looking at it," Elkan said.</p> + +<p>"I am looking at it from the view of a business man, Mr. +Lubliner," Benson rejoined. "Here I got a proposition which I am +going to put on—a show of idees—a big production, understand +me; which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> if Ryan & Bernbaum makes from their 'Diners Out' a +hundred thousand dollars, <i>verstehst du</i>, I could easily make a +hundred and fifty thousand! And yet, Mr. Lubliner, all I invest +is five thousand dollars and five thousand more which I am making +a loan at a bank."</p> + +<p>"Which bank?" Elkan asked—so quickly that Benson almost jumped +in his seat.</p> + +<p>"I—I didn't decide which bank yet," he replied. "You see, Mr. +Lubliner, I got accounts in three banks. First I belonged to the +Fifteenth National Bank. Then they begged me I should go in the +Minuit National Bank. All right. I went in the Minuit National +Bank. H'afterward Sam Feder comes to me and says: 'Benson,' he +says, 'you are an old friend from mine,' he says. 'Why do you +bother yourself you should go into this bank and that bank?' he +says. 'Why don't you come to my bank?' he says, 'and I would give +you all the money you want.' So you see, Mr. Lubliner, it is +immaterial to me which bank I get my money from."</p> + +<p>Again he passed his jewelled fingers through his hair.</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Lubliner," he announced after a pause, "my own brother +even I wouldn't give a look-in."</p> + +<p>Elkan made no reply. As a result of Benson's gesture he was busy +estimating the value of eight and a quarter carats at +eighty-seven dollars and fifty cents a carat.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>"Because," Benson continued, "the profits is something you could +really call enormous! If you got the time I would like to show +you a few figures."</p> + +<p>"I got all evening," Elkan answered, whereat Benson pulled from +his waistcoat pocket a fountain pen ornamented with gold +filigree.</p> + +<p>"First," he said, "is the costumes."</p> + +<p>And therewith he plunged into a maze of calculation that lasted +for nearly an hour. Moreover, at the end of that period he +entered into a new series of figures, tending to show that by the +investment of an additional five thousand dollars the profits +could be increased seventy-five per cent.</p> + +<p>"But I'm satisfied to invest my ten thousand," he said, "because +five thousand is my own and the other five thousand I could get +easy from the Kosciuscko Bank, whereas the additional five +thousand I must try to interest somebody he should invest it with +me. And so far as that goes I wouldn't bother myself at all."</p> + +<p>"You're dead right," Elkan said by way of making himself +agreeable, whereat Benson grew crimson with chagrin.</p> + +<p>"Sure I'm dead right," he said; "and if you and Mrs. Lubliner +would come down to my office in the Siddons Theatre Building +to-morrow night, eight o'clock, I would send one of my associates +round with you and he will get you tickets for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> 'Diners Out,' +understand me; and then you would see for yourself what a big +house they got there. Even on Monday night they turn 'em away!"</p> + +<p>"I'm much obliged to you," Elkan replied. "I'm sure Mrs. Lubliner +and me would enjoy it very much."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry for you if you wouldn't," Benson retorted; "and that +there 'Diners Out' ain't a marker to the show I'm putting on, Mr. +Lubliner—which you can see for yourself, a business proposition, +which pans out pretty near two hundred thousand dollars on a +fifteen-thousand-dollar investment, is got to be right up to the +mark. Ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"I thought you said ten thousand dollars was the investment," +Elkan remarked.</p> + +<p>"I did," Benson replied with some heat; "but if some one comes +along and wants to invest the additional five thousand dollars I +wouldn't turn him down, Mr. Lubliner."</p> + +<p>He rose to his feet to join the pinocle players in the dining +room.</p> + +<p>"So I hope you enjoy the show to-morrow night," he added as he +strolled away.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>From six to eight every evening Max Merech underwent a gradual +transformation, for six o'clock was the closing hour at Polatkin, +Scheikowitz & Company's establishment, while eight marked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> the +advent of the Sarasate Trio at the Café Román, on Delancey +Street. Thus, at six, Max Merech was an assistant cutter; and, +indeed, until after he ate his supper he still bore the outward +appearance of an assistant cutter, though inwardly he felt a +premonitory glow. After half-past seven, however, he buttoned on +a low, turned-down collar with its concomitant broad Windsor tie, +and therewith he assumed his real character—that of a +dilettante.</p> + +<p>At the Café Román each evening he specialized on music; but with +the spirit of the true dilettante he neglected no one of the rest +of the arts, and was ever to be found at the table next to the +piano, a warm advocate of the latest movement in painting and +literature, as well as an appreciative listener to the +ultramodern music discoursed by the Sarasate Trio.</p> + +<p>"If that ain't a winner I ain't no judge!" he said to Boris +Volkovisk, the pianist, on the evening of the conversation with +Elkan set forth above. He referred to a violin sonata of Boris' +own composition which the latter and Jacob Rekower, the +violinist, had just concluded.</p> + +<p>Boris smiled and wiped away the perspiration from his bulging +forehead, for the third movement of the sonata, marked in the +score <i>Allegro con fuoco</i>, had taxed even the technic of its +composer.</p> + +<p>"A winner of what?" Boris asked—"money?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> Because supposing a +miracle happens that somebody would publish it nobody buys it."</p> + +<p>Max nodded his head slowly in sympathetic acquiescence.</p> + +<p>"But anyhow you ain't so bad off like some composers," he said. +"You've anyhow got a good musician to play your stuff for you."</p> + +<p>He smiled at Jacob Rekower, who plunged his hands into his +trousers pockets and shrugged deprecatingly.</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Rekower said; "and if we play too much good stuff +Marculescu raises the devil with us we should play more popular +music."</p> + +<p>He spat out the words "popular music" with an emphasis that made +a <i>Tarrok</i> player at the next table jump in his seat.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>," said the latter as the deal passed, "what is the matter +with popular music? If it wouldn't be for writing popular music, +understand me, many a decent, respectable composer would got to +starve!"</p> + +<p>He turned his chair round and abandoned the card game the better +to air his views on popular music.</p> + +<p>"Furthermore," he said, "I know a young feller by the name Milton +Jassy which last year he makes two thousand dollars already from +syncopating <i>Had gadyo</i> and calling it the "Wildcat Rag," and +this year he is writing the music for a new show and I bet yer +the least he makes out of it is five thousand dollars."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>"Yow! Five thousand dollars!" Merech exclaimed. "Such people you +hear about, but you <i>oser</i> see 'em."</p> + +<p>"Don't you?" said the <i>Tarrok</i> player, drawing a cardcase from +his breast pocket. "Well, you see one now."</p> + +<p>He laid face upward on the table a card which read:</p> + +<div class="cardbus"> +<span class="size75">"THE SONGS YOU ALL SING"</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +MILTON JASSY<br /> +<span class="size75">SIDDONS THEATRE BUILDING</span><br /> +<span class="size60">ROOM 1400</span><br /> +<span class="size75">"STUFF WITH A PUNCH"</span><br /> +<div> +<table summary="business card"> +<tr><td class="center"><span class="size60">LAZY DAISY</span></td><td> </td><td class="center"><span class="size60">EDDIE</span></td></tr> +<tr><td class="center"><span class="size60">WILDCAT RAG</span></td><td> </td><td class="center"><span class="size60">ALL ABOARD FOR SLEEPYTOWN</span></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +</div> + +<p><br /></p> + +<p>For a brief interval Volkovisk, Rekower, and Merech regarded +Jassy's card in silence.</p> + +<p>"Well," Merech said at last, "what of it?"</p> + +<p>Jassy shrugged and waved his hand significantly.</p> + +<p>"Nothing of it," he said, "only your friend there is knocking +popular music; and though I admit that I didn't got to go to the +<i>Wiener</i> conservatory so as I could write popular music exactly, +y'understand, still I could write sonatas and trios and quartets +and even concerti and symphonies till I am black in the face +already and I couldn't pay my laundry bill even."</p> + +<p>For answer Volkovisk turned to the piano and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> seized from the +pile of music a blue-covered volume. It was the violin sonata of +Richard Strauss, and handing the violin part to Rekower he seated +himself on the stool. Then with a premonitory nod to Rekower he +struck the opening chords, and for more than ten minutes Jassy +and Merech sat motionless until the first movement was finished.</p> + +<p>"When Strauss wrote that he could <i>oser</i> pay his laundry bill +either," Volkovisk said, rising from the stool. He sat down +wearily at the table and lit a cigarette.</p> + +<p>"So you see," he began, "Richard Strauss——"</p> + +<p>"Richard Strauss nothing!" cried an angry voice at his elbow. "If +you want to practise, practise at home. I pay you here to play +for my customers, not for yourselves, Volkovisk; and once and for +all I am telling you you should cut out this nonsense and <i>spiel</i> +a little music once in a while."</p> + +<p>It was the proprietor, Marculescu, who spoke, and Volkovisk +immediately seated himself at the piano. This time he took from +the pile of music three small sheets, one of which he placed on +the reading desk and the other on Rekower's violin stand. After +handing the other sheet to the 'cellist he plunged into a furious +rendition of "Wildcat Rag."</p> + +<p>In the front part of the café a group of men and women, whose +clothes and manners proclaimed them to be slummers from the upper +West Side, broke into noisy applause as the vulgar composition<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> +came to an end, and in the midst of their shouting and stamping +Jassy rose trembling from his seat. He slunk between tables to +the door, while Volkovisk began a repetition of the number, and +it was not until he had turned the corner of the street and the +melody had ceased to sound in his ears that he slackened his +pace. When he did so, however, a friendly hand fell on his +shoulder and he turned to find Max Merech close behind him.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>, Mr. Jassy," Max said, "you shouldn't be so broke up +because you couldn't write so good as Richard Strauss."</p> + +<p>Jassy stood still and looked Max squarely in the eye.</p> + +<p>"That's just the point," he said in hollow tones. "Might I could +if I tried; but I am such an <i>Epikouros</i> that I don't want to +try. I would sooner make money out of rubbish than be an artist +like Volkovisk."</p> + +<p>Max shrugged and elevated his eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"A man must got to live," he said as he seized Jassy's arm and +began gently to propel him back to the Café Román.</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Jassy said; "but living ain't all having good +clothes to wear and good food to eat. Living for an artist like +Volkovisk is composing music worthy of an artist. <i>Aber</i> what do +I do, Mister——"</p> + +<p>"Merech," Max said.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>"What do I do, Mr. Merech?" Jassy continued. "I am all the time +throwing away my art in the streets with this rotten stuff I am +composing."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>"Well, I tell you," Max said after they had reëntered the café +and had seated themselves at a table remote from the piano, +"composing music is like manufacturing garments, Mr. Jassy. Some +one must got to cater to the popular-price trade and only a few +manufacturers gets to the point where they make up a highgrade +line for the exclusive retailers. Ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Jassy nodded as the waiter brought the cups of coffee.</p> + +<p>"Now you take me, for instance," Max continued. "Once I worked by +B. Gans, which I assure you, Mr. Jassy, it was a pleasure to +handle the goods in that place. What an elegant line of silks and +embroidery they got it there! Believe me, Mr. Jassy, every day I +went to work there like I would be going to a wedding already, +such a beautiful goods they made it! <i>Aber</i> now I am working by a +popular-price concern, Mr. Jassy, which, you could take it from +me, the colors them people puts together in one garment gives me +the indigestion already!"</p> + +<p>Again Jassy nodded sympathetically.</p> + +<p>"And why did I make a change?" Max went on.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> "Because them people +pays me seven dollars a week more as B. Gans, Mr. Jassy; and +though art is art, understand me, seven dollars a week ain't to +be coughed at neither."</p> + +<p>For a few minutes Jassy sipped his coffee in silence.</p> + +<p>"That's all right, too," he said; "but with garments you could +make just so much money manufacturing a highgrade line as you +could if you are making a popular-price line."</p> + +<p>Max nodded sapiently.</p> + +<p>"I give you right there," he agreed, "and that's because the +manufacturer of the highgrade line does business in the same way +as the popular-price concern. <i>Aber</i> you take the composer of +highgrade music and all he does is compose. He's too proud to +poosh it, Mr. Jassy; whereas the feller what composes popular +music he's just the same like the feller what manufacturers a +popular-price line of garments—he not only manufacturers his +line but he pooshes it till he gets a market for it."</p> + +<p>"There ain't no market for a highclass line of music," Jassy said +hopelessly.</p> + +<p>"Why ain't there?" Max demanded. "Did you ever try to market a +symphony? Did Volkovisk ever try to get anybody with money +interested in his stuff? No, sirree, sir! All that feller does is +to play it to a lot of <i>Schnorrers</i> like me, which no matter how +much we like his work we couldn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> help him none. Now you take +your own case, for instance. You told us a few minutes ago you +are writing some music for a new show. Now, if you wouldn't mind +my asking, who is putting in the capital for that show?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Jassy replied, "a feller called Benson is putting it in +and part of the capital is from his own money and the rest he +borrows."</p> + +<p>"Just like a new beginner would do in the garment business," Max +commented. "<i>Aber</i> who does he borrow it from? A bank +maybe—what?"</p> + +<p>"Some he gets from a bank," Jassy replied, "and the rest is he +trying to raise elsewheres. To-night he tells me he is getting an +introduction to a business man which he hopes to lend from him +five <i>oder</i> ten thousand dollars."</p> + +<p>"Five <i>oder</i> ten thousand dollars!" Max cried. "<i>Shema beni.</i> For +five thousand dollars Volkovisk could publish all the music he +ever wrote and give a whole lot of recitals in the bargain. One +thousand dollars would be enough even."</p> + +<p>"That I wouldn't deny at all," Jassy rejoined. "<i>Aber</i> who would +you find stands willing he should invest in Volkovisk's music a +thousand dollars? Would he ever get back his thousand dollars +even, let alone any profits?"</p> + +<p>"It's a speculation, I admit," Max commented; "but you take +Richard Strauss, for instance, and if some feller would staked +Strauss to a thousand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> dollars capital when he needed it, +understand me, not alone he would got his money back but if we +would say, for example, the thousand dollars represents a +ten-per-cent interest in Strauss' business, to-day yet the feller +would be worth his fifty thousand dollars, because everybody +knows what a big success Strauss made. Actually the feller must +got orders at least six months ahead. Why for one song alone they +pay him a couple thousand dollars!"</p> + +<p>"Well," Jassy asked, "if you feel there's such a future in it why +don't you raise a thousand dollars and finance Volkovisk?"</p> + +<p>Max laughed aloud.</p> + +<p>"Me—I couldn't raise nothing," he said; "<i>aber</i> you—you are +feeling sore at yourself because you are writing popular stuff. +Here's a chance for you to square yourself with your art. Why +don't you help Volkovisk out? All you got to do is to find out +who is loaning this here Benson the ten thousand dollars and get +him to stake Volkovisk to a thousand."</p> + +<p>Jassy tapped the table with his fingers.</p> + +<p>"For that matter I could say the same thing to you," he declared. +"You consider Volkovisk's talent so high as a business +proposition, Merech, why don't you get some business man +interested—one of your bosses, for instance?"</p> + +<p>He rose from his chair as he spoke and placed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> ten cents on the +table as his share of the evening's expenses.</p> + +<p>"Think it over," he said; and long after he had closed the door +behind him Max sat still with his hands in his trousers pocket +and pondered the suggestion.</p> + +<p>"After all," he mused as Marculescu began to turn out the lights +one by one, "why shouldn't I—the very first thing in the +morning?"</p> + +<p>It was not, however, until Polatkin and Scheikowitz had gone out +to lunch the following day, leaving Elkan alone in the office, +that Max could bring his courage to the sticking point; and so +fearful was he that he might regret his boldness before it was +too late, he fairly ran from the cutting room to the office and +delivered his preparatory remarks in the outdoor tones of a +political spellbinder.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lubliner," he cried, "could I speak to you a few words +something?"</p> + +<p>Elkan rose and slammed the door.</p> + +<p>"Say, lookyhere, Merech," he said, "if you want a raise don't let +the whole factory know about it, otherwise we would be pestered +to death here. Remember, also," he continued as he sat down +again, "you are only working for us a few weeks—and don't go so +quick as all that."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean, a raise?" Max asked. "I ain't said nothing at +all about a raise. I am coming to see you about something +entirely different already."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>Elkan looked ostentatiously at his watch.</p> + +<p>"I ain't got too much time, Merech," he said.</p> + +<p>"Nobody's got too much time when it comes to fellers asking for +raises, Mr. Lubliner," Max retorted; "<i>aber</i> this here is +something else again, as I told you."</p> + +<p>"Well, don't beat no bushes round, Merech!" Elkan cried +impatiently. "What is it you want from me?"</p> + +<p>"I want from you this," Max began huskily: "Might you know +Tschaikovsky maybe <i>oder</i> Rimsky-Korsakoff."</p> + +<p>"Tschaikovsky I never heard of," Elkan replied, "nor the other +concern neither. Must be new beginners in the garment +business—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"They never was in the garment business, so far as I know," Max +continued; "<i>aber</i> they made big successes even if they wasn't, +because all the money ain't in the garment business, Mr. +Lubliner, and Tschaikovsky and Rimsky-Korsakoff, even in the old +country, made so much money they lived in palaces yet. Once when +I was a boy already, Tschaikovsky comes to Minsk and they got up +a parade for him—such a big <i>Macher</i> he was!"</p> + +<p>"I don't doubt your word for a minute, Merech; <i>aber</i> what is all +this got to do <i>mit</i> me?"</p> + +<p>"It ain't got nothing to do with you, Mr. Lubliner," Max +declared—"only I got a friend by the name Boris Volkovisk, and +believe me or not, Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> Lubliner, in some respects Tschaikovsky +and Rimsky-Korsakoff could learn from that feller, because, you +could take it from me, Mr. Lubliner, there's some passages in the +Fifth Symphony, understand me, which I hate to say it you could +call rotten!"</p> + +<p>Elkan stirred uneasily in his chair.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you are talking about at all," he said.</p> + +<p>"I am talking about this," Max replied; and therewith he began to +explain to Elkan the aspirations and talent of Boris Volkovisk +and his—Max'—scheme for their successful development. For more +than half an hour he unfolded a plan by which one thousand +dollars might be judiciously expended so as to secure the maximum +benefit to Volkovisk's career—a plan that during the preceding +two years Volkovisk and he had thoroughly discussed over many a +cup of coffee in Marculescu's café. "And so you see, Mr. +Lubliner," he concluded, "it's a plain business proposition; and +if you was to take for your thousand dollars, say, for example, a +one-tenth interest in the business Volkovisk expects to do, +understand me, you would get a big return for your investment."</p> + +<p>Elkan lit a cigar and puffed away reflectively before speaking.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>," he said at last; "so that is what you wanted to talk to +me about?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>Max nodded.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, all I could say is," Elkan went on, "you are coming +to the wrong shop. A business proposition like that is for a +banker, which he is got so much money he don't know what to do +with it, Merech."</p> + +<p>Max' face fell and he turned disconsolately away.</p> + +<p>"At the same time, Max," Elkan added, "I ain't feeling sore that +you come to me with the proposition, understand me. The trouble +ain't with you that you got such an idee, Max; the trouble is +with me that I couldn't see it. It's like a feller by the name +Dalzell, a buyer for Kammerman's store, says to me this morning. +'Lubliner,' he says, 'I couldn't afford to take no chances buying +highgrade garments from a feller that is used to making a +popular-price line,' he says, 'because no matter how well +equipped your factory would be the trouble is a popular-price +manufacturer couldn't think big enough to turn out expensive +garments. To such a manufacturer goods at two dollars a yard is +the limit, and goods at ten dollars a yard he couldn't imagine at +all. And even if he could induce himself to use stuff at ten +dollars a yard, y'understand, it goes against him to be liberal +with such high-priced goods, so he skimps the garment.'"</p> + +<p>He blew a great cloud of smoke as a substitute for a sigh.</p> + +<p>"And Dalzell was right, Max," he concluded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> "You couldn't expect +that a garment manufacturer like me is going to got such big +idees as investing a thousand dollars in a highgrade scheme like +yours. With me a thousand dollars means so many yards piece +goods, so many sewing machines or a week's payroll; <i>aber</i> it +don't mean giving a musician a show he should compose highgrade +music. I ain't educated up to it, Max; so I wish you luck that +you should raise the money somewheres else."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>When M. Sidney Benson entered his office in the Siddons Theatre +Building late that afternoon he found Jassy seated at his desk in +the mournful contemplation of some music manuscript.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>, Milton," Benson cried, "you shouldn't look so <i>rachmonos</i>. +I surely think I got 'em coming!"</p> + +<p>"You think you got 'em coming!" Jassy repeated with bitter +emphasis. "You said that a dozen times already—and always the +feller wasn't so big a sucker like he looked!"</p> + +<p>"That was because I didn't work it right," Benson replied. "This +time I am making out to do the feller a favour by letting him in +on the show, and right away he becomes interested. His name is +Elkan Lubliner, a manufacturer by cloaks and suits, and to-night +he is coming down with his wife yet, and you are going to take +'em round to the 'Diners Out.'"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>"I am going to the 'Diners Out' <i>mit</i> 'em?" Milton ejaculated +with every inflection of horror and disgust.</p> + +<p>"Sure!" Benson replied cheerfully. "Six dollars it'll cost us, +because Ryan pretty near laughs in my face when I asked him for +three seats. But never mind, Milton, it'll be worth the money."</p> + +<p>"Will it?" Jassy retorted. "Well, not for me, Mr. Benson. Why, +the last time I seen that show I says I wouldn't sit through it +again for a hundred dollars."</p> + +<p>"A hundred dollars is a lot of money, Milton," Benson said. +"<i>Aber</i> I think if you work it right you will get a hundred times +a hundred dollars before we are through, on account I really got +this feller going. So you should listen to me and I would tell +you just what you want to say to the feller between the acts."</p> + +<p>Therewith Benson commenced to unfold a series of "talking points" +which he had spent the entire day in formulating; and, as he +proceeded, Jassy's eyes wandered from the title page of the +manuscript music inscribed "Opus 47—Trio in G moll," and began +to glow in sympathy with Benson's well-laid plan.</p> + +<p>"There's no use shilly-shallying, Milton," Benson concluded. "The +season is getting late, and if we're ever going to put on that +show now is the time."</p> + +<p>Milton nodded eagerly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>"<i>Aber</i> why don't you take 'em to the show yourself, Mr. Benson?" +he asked hopefully. "Because, not to jolly you at all, Mr. +Benson, I must got to say it you are a wonderful talker."</p> + +<p>Benson shrugged his shoulders and smiled weakly.</p> + +<p>"I am a wonderful talker, I admit," he agreed; "but I got a hard +face, Milton, whereas you, anyhow, look honest. So you should +meet me at Hanley's afterward, understand me, and we would try to +close the deal there and then."</p> + +<p>He dug his hand into his trousers pocket and produced a modest +roll of bills, from which he detached six dollars.</p> + +<p>"Here is the money," he added, "and you should be here to meet +them people at eight o'clock sharp."</p> + +<p>On the stroke of eight Milton Jassy returned to Benson's office +in the Siddons Theatre Building and again seated himself at his +desk in front of the pile of manuscript music. This time, +however, he brushed aside the title page of his Opus 47 and +spread out an evening paper to beguile the tedium of awaiting +Benson's "prospects." Automatically he turned to the department +headed Music and Musicians, and at the top of the column his eye +fell on the following item:</p> + +<div class="blockquote"><p>Ferencz Lánczhid, the Budapest virtuoso, will be the +soloist at the concert this evening of the Philharmonic +Society. He will play the Tschaikovsky Violin Concerto, +Opus 35, and the remainder of the program will consist of +Dvorák's Symphony, <i>Aus der Neuen Welt</i>, and the +ever-popular Meistersinger Overture.</p></div><p></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>Jassy heaved a tremulous sigh as he concluded the paragraph and +leaned back in his chair, while in his ears sounded the adagio +passage that introduces the first movement of the "New World +Symphony." Simultaneously the occupant of the next office slammed +down his rolltop desk and began to whistle a lively popular +melody. It was "Wildcat Rag," and Milton struck the outspread +newspaper with his clenched fist. Then rising to his feet he +gathered together the loose pages of his "Opus 47" and placed +them tenderly in a leather case just as the door opened and Elkan +and Yetta entered.</p> + +<p>"I hope we ain't late," Elkan said.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," Milton replied. "This is Mr. and Mrs. +Lubliner—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>As he drew forward a chair for Yetta he saluted his visitors with +a slight, graceful bow, a survival of his conservatory days.</p> + +<p>"Sit down," he said; "we got lots and lots of time."</p> + +<p>"I thought the show started at a quarter-past eight—ain't it?" +Elkan asked.</p> + +<p>"It does and it doesn't," Milton replied hesitatingly; "that is +to say, some shows start at a quarter-past eight and others not +till half-past eight."</p> + +<p>"But I mean this here 'Diners Out' starts at a quarter-past +eight—ain't it?" Elkan insisted.</p> + +<p>"'The Diners Out!'" Milton exclaimed as though he heard the name +for the first time. "Oh, sure,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> the 'Diners Out' starts at a +quarter-past eight, and that's just what I wanted to talk to you +about."</p> + +<p>He turned to Yetta with an engaging smile which, with his black +hair and his dark, melancholy eyes, completely won over that far +from unimpressionable lady.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mrs. Lubliner," he began, "your husband is a business +man—ain't it? And if some one comes to him and says, 'Mr. +Lubliner, I got here two garments for the same price—say, for +example, two dollars. One of 'em is made of cheap material, +<i>aber</i> plenty of it <i>mit</i> cheap embroidery on it, understand me; +while the other is from finest silk a garment—not much of it, +y'understand, but plain and beautiful.'"</p> + +<p>"What for a garment could you got for two dollars?" Elkan +asked—"especially a silk garment?"</p> + +<p>"He's only saying for example, Elkan," Yetta interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Garments I am only using, so to speak," Milton explained. "What +I really mean is: You got your choice to go to a popular show +like the 'Diners Out' or to a really highgrade show, Mr. +Lubliner. So I leave it to you, Mr. Lubliner. Which shall it be?"</p> + +<p>Once again he smiled at Yetta.</p> + +<p>"Why, to the highgrade show, sure," Yetta replied, and she seized +her husband by the arm.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> "Come along, Elkan!" she cried; and +after Milton had secured the leather portfolio containing his +"Opus 47" they proceeded immediately to the elevator.</p> + +<p>"We could walk over there from here," Milton said when they +reached the sidewalk, and he led the way across town toward +Carnegie Hall.</p> + +<p>"What for a show is this we are going to see?" Elkan asked. "Also +a musical show?"</p> + +<p>Milton nodded.</p> + +<p>"The best musical show there is," he declared. "Do you like maybe +to hear good music?"</p> + +<p>"I'm crazy about it," Yetta replied.</p> + +<p>"Symphonies, concerti and such things?" Milton inquired.</p> + +<p>"Symphonies?" Elkan repeated. "What is symphonies?"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't explain it to you," Milton said, "because we ain't +got time; <i>aber</i> you would see for yourself. Only one thing I +must tell you, Mr. Lubliner—when the orchestra plays you +shouldn't speak nothing—Mrs. Lubliner neither."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't open my mouth at all," Elkan assured him solemnly; +and a few minutes later Milton seated himself in the last row of +the parterre at Carnegie Hall, with Elkan and Yetta—one each +side of him.</p> + +<p>"So you ain't never been to a symphony concert before?" Milton +began, leaning toward Elkan;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> and, as the latter shook his head, +a short, stout person in the adjoining seat raised his eyebrows +involuntarily. "Well, you got a big pleasure in store for you," +Milton went on; "and another thing I must got to tell you: Might +you would hear some pretty jumpy music which you would want to +keep time to <i>mit</i> your foot. Don't you do it!"</p> + +<p>Elkan's neighbour concealed a smile with one hand, and then, he, +too, turned to Elkan, who had received Milton's warning with a +sulky frown.</p> + +<p>"You're friend is right," he said. "People always have to be told +that the first time they go to a symphony concert; and the next +time they go they not only see the wisdom of such advice, but +they want to get up and lick the man that does beat time with his +foot."</p> + +<p>He accompanied his remark with so gracious a smile that Elkan's +frown immediately relaxed.</p> + +<p>"A new beginner couldn't get too much advice," he said, and his +neighbour leaned farther forward and addressed Milton.</p> + +<p>"You've chosen a fine program to introduce your friend to good +music with," he said; and therewith began a lively conversation +that lasted until a round of applause signalized the appearance +of the conductor. The next moment he raised his baton and the +celli began to sigh the mournful phrase which ushers in the +symphony. Milton leaned back luxuriously as the woodwind +commenced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> the next phrase; and then, while the introduction +ended with a sweeping crescendo and the tempo suddenly increased, +Elkan sat up and his eyes became fixed on the trombone and +trumpet players.</p> + +<p>He maintained this attitude throughout the entire first movement, +and it was not until the conductor's arm fell motionless at his +side that he settled back in his seat.</p> + +<p>"Well," Milton asked, "what do you think of it?"</p> + +<p>"A-Number-One!" Elkan answered hoarsely. "It would suit me just +so well if it would last the whole evening and we wouldn't have +no singing and dancing at all."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean—no singing and dancing!" Milton exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Sure!" Elkan continued. "I wish them fellers would play the +whole evening."</p> + +<p>The conductor tapped his desk with his baton.</p> + +<p>"Don't worry," Milton commented as he settled himself for the +next movement. "You'll get your wish all right."</p> + +<p>Elkan looked inquiringly at his mentor, but Milton only placed +his forefinger to his lips; and thereafter, until the conclusion +of the symphony, the pauses between the movements of the symphony +were so brief that Elkan had no opportunity to make further +inquiries.</p> + +<p>"Well, neighbour," asked the gentleman on his right, as the +musicians filed off the stage for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> ten-minutes' intermission, +"what do you think of your first symphony?"</p> + +<p>Elkan smiled and concealed his shyness by clearing his throat.</p> + +<p>"The symphony is all right," he said; "but, with all them +operators there, what is the use they are trying to save money +hiring only one foreman?"</p> + +<p>"One foreman?" his neighbour cried.</p> + +<p>"Sure—the feller with the stick," Elkan went on blandly. +"Naturally he couldn't keep his eye on all them people at +oncet—ain't it? I am watching them fellers, which they are +working them big brass machines, for the last half hour, and +except for five or ten minutes they sit there doing absolutely +nothing—just fooling away their time."</p> + +<p>"Them fellers ain't fooling away their time," Milton said +gravely. "They ain't got nothing to do only at intervals."</p> + +<p>"Then I guess they must pay 'em by piecework—ain't it?" Elkan +asked.</p> + +<p>"They pay 'em so much a night," Milton explained.</p> + +<p>"Well, in that case, Mr. Jassy," Elkan continued, "all I could +say is if I would got working in my place half a dozen fellers +which I am paying by the day, understand me, and the foreman +couldn't keep 'em busy only half the time, <i>verstehst du</i>, he +would quick look for another job."</p> + +<p>Elkan's neighbour on the right had been growing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> steadily more +crimson, and at last he hurriedly seized his hat and passed out +into the aisle.</p> + +<p>"That's a pretty friendly feller," Elkan said as he gazed after +him. "Do you happen to know his name?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't never heard his name," Milton replied; "but he is +seemingly crazy about music. I seen him here every time I come."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't blame him none," Elkan commented; "because you +take the Harlem Winter Garden, for instance, and though the music +is rotten, understand me, they got the nerve to charge you yet +for a lot of food which half the time you don't want at all; +whereas here they didn't even ask us we should buy so much as a +glass beer."</p> + +<p>At this juncture the short, stout person returned and proceeded +to entertain Elkan and Yetta by pointing out among the audience +the figures of local and international millionaires.</p> + +<p>"And all them fellers is crazy about music too?" Elkan asked.</p> + +<p>"So crazy," his neighbour said, "that the little man over there, +with the white beard, spends almost twenty thousand a year on +it!"</p> + +<p>"And yet," Milton said bitterly, "there's plenty fellers in the +city which year in and year out composes chamber music and +symphonic music which they couldn't themselves make ten dollars a +week; and, when it comes right down to it, none of them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +millionaires would loosen up to such new beginners for even five +hundred dollars to help them get a hearing."</p> + +<p>The short person received Milton's outburst with a faint smile.</p> + +<p>"I've heard that before," he commented, "but I never had the +pleasure of meeting any of those great unknown composers."</p> + +<p>"That's because most of 'em is so bashful they ain't got sense +enough to push themselves forward," Milton replied; "<i>aber</i> if +you really want to meet one I could take you to-night yet to a +café on Delancey Street where there is playing a trio which the +pianist is something you could really call a genius."</p> + +<p>"You don't tell me!" Elkan's neighbour cried. "Why, I should be +delighted to go with you."</p> + +<p>"How about it, Mr. Lubliner?" Milton asked. "Are you and Mrs. +Lubliner agreeable to go downtown after the show to the café on +Delancey Street? It's a pretty poor neighbourhood already."</p> + +<p>Yetta smiled.</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," she said; "but it wouldn't be the first time me +and Elkan was in Delancey Street."</p> + +<p>"Then it's agreed that we're all going to hear the genius," +Elkan's neighbour added. "I heard you call one another Jassy and +Lubliner—it's hardly fair you shouldn't know my name too."</p> + +<p>He felt in his waistcoat pocket and finally handed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> a visiting +card to Elkan, who glanced at it hurriedly and with trembling +fingers passed it on to his wife, for it was inscribed in old +English type as follows:</p> + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="cardsmall"> +<p><br /></p> +<table summary="old English bus card"> +<tr><td class="lt">Mr. Joseph Kammerman</td></tr> +<tr><td class="center">Fostoria Hotel</td></tr> +<tr><td class="rt">New York</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p><br />"Once and for all, I am telling you, Volkovisk, either you would +got to play music here or quit!" Marculescu cried at eleven +o'clock that evening. "The customers is all the time kicking at +the stuff you give us."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean, stuff?" Max Merech protested. "That was no +stuff, Mr. Marculescu. That was from Brahms a trio, and it suits +me down to the ground."</p> + +<p>"Suits you!" Marculescu exclaimed. "Who in blazes are you?"</p> + +<p>"I am <i>auch</i> a customer, Mr. Marculescu," Max replied with +dignity.</p> + +<p>"<i>Yow</i>, a customer!" Marculescu jeered. "You sit here all night +on one cup coffee. A customer, <i>sagt er</i>! A loafer—that's what +you are! It ain't you I am making my money from, Merech—it's +from them <i>Takeefim</i><a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> uptown; and they want to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> hear music, not +Brahms. So you hear what I am telling you, Volkovisk! You should +play something good—like 'Wildcat Rag'."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> <i>Takeefim</i>—Aristocracy.</p></div> + +<p>"Wait a minute, Mr. Marculescu," Max interrupted. "Do you mean to +told me them lowlife bums in front there, which makes all that +<i>Geschrei</i> over 'Dixerlie' and such like <i>Narrischkeit</i>, is +<i>Takeefim</i> yet?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want to listen to you at all, Merech!" Marculescu +shouted.</p> + +<p>"I don't care if you want to listen to me <i>oder</i> not," Merech +said. "I was a customer here when you got one little store <i>mit</i> +two waiters; and it was me and all the other fellers you are +calling loafers now what give you, with our few pennies, your +first start. Now you are too good for us with your uptown +<i>Takeefim</i>. Why, them same <i>Takeefim</i> only comes here, in the +first place, because they want to see what it looks like in one +of the East Side cafés, where they got such good music and such +interesting characters, which sits and drinks coffee and plays +chess <i>und Tarrok</i>."</p> + +<p>He glared at the enraged Marculescu and waved his hands +excitedly.</p> + +<p>"What you call loafers they call interesting characters, Mr. +Marculescu," he continued, "and what you call stuff they call +good music—and that's the way it goes, Mr. Marculescu. You are a +goose which is killing its own golden eggs!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>"So!" Marculescu roared. "I am a goose, am I? You loafer, you! +Out of here before I kick you out!"</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't kick nothing," Max rejoined, "because I am happy to +go out from here! Where all the time is being played such +<i>Machshovos</i> like 'Wildcat Rag,' I don't want to stay at all."</p> + +<p>He rose from his chair and flung ten cents on to the table.</p> + +<p>"And furthermore," he cried by way of peroration, "people don't +got to come five miles down to Delancey Street to hear 'Wildcat +Rag,' Mr. Marculescu; so, if you keep on playing it, Mr. +Marculescu, you will quick find that it's an elegant tune to bust +up to—and that's all I got to say!"</p> + +<p>As he walked away, Marculescu made a sign to his pianist.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead, Volkovisk—play 'Wildcat Rag!'" he said. Then he +followed Max to the front of the café; and before they reached +the front tables, at which sat the slummers from uptown, +Volkovisk began to pound out the hackneyed melody.</p> + +<p>"That's what I think of your arguments, Merech!" Marculescu said, +walking behind the cashier's desk.</p> + +<p>Max paused to crush him with a final retort; but even as he began +to deliver it his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, for at +that instant the door opened and there entered a party of four, +with Elkan Lubliner in the van. A moment later, how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>ever, Milton +Jassy pushed his guests to one side and strode angrily toward +Marculescu.</p> + +<p>"<i>Koosh!</i>" he bellowed and stamped his foot on the floor, whereat +the music ceased and even the uptown revellers were startled into +silence. Only Marculescu remained unabashed.</p> + +<p>"Say," he shouted as he rushed from behind his desk, "what do you +think this joint is?—a joint!"</p> + +<p>"I think what I please, Marculescu," Milton said, "and you should +tell Volkovisk to play something decent. Also you should bring us +two quarts from the best Tchampanyer wine—from French wine +Tchampanyer, not <i>Amerikanischer</i>."</p> + +<p>He waved his hand impatiently and three waiters—half of +Marculescu's entire staff—came on the jump; so that, a moment +later, Jassy and his guests were divested of their wraps and +seated at one of the largest tables facing the piano. It was not +until then that Milton descried Max Merech hovering round the +door.</p> + +<p>"Merech!" he called. "<i>Kommen sie 'r über!</i>"</p> + +<p>Max shook his head shyly and half-opened the door, but Elkan +forestalled him. He fairly bounded from the table and caught his +assistant cutter by the arm just as he was disappearing on to the +sidewalk.</p> + +<p>"Max," he said, "what's the matter with you? Ain't you coming in +to meet my wife?"</p> + +<p>Max shrugged in embarrassment.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>"You don't want me to butt into your party, Mr. Lubliner!" he +said.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Max," Elkan almost pleaded; "not only do I want you to, +but you would be doing me a big favour if you would come in and +join us. Also, Max, I am going to introduce you as our designer. +You ain't got no objections?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," Max replied, and he followed his employer into the +café.</p> + +<p>"Yetta," Elkan began, "I think you seen Mr. Merech before—ain't +it?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lubliner smiled and extended her hand.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Mr. Merech?" she said; and Max bowed awkwardly.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Kammerman," Elkan continued, "this is our designer, Max +Merech; and I could assure you, Mr. Kammerman, a very good one +too. He's got a great eye for colour."</p> + +<p>"And a good ear for music," Milton added as Kammerman shook the +blushing dilettante by the hand.</p> + +<p>"In fact, Mr. Kammerman, if he has got such taste in designing as +he is showing in music," Milton went on, "he must be a wonder! +Nothing suits him but the best. And now, if you will excuse me, +I'll get Volkovisk he should play you his sonata."</p> + +<p>He left the table with his leather portfolio under his arm, and +for more than five minutes he held an earnest consultation with +Volkovisk and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> cellist, after which he returned smiling to +his seat.</p> + +<p>"First Volkovisk plays his sonata, 'Opus 30,'" he explained, "and +then he would do a little thing of my own."</p> + +<p>He nodded briskly to Volkovisk, and Kammerman settled himself +resignedly to a hearing of what he anticipated would be a +commonplace piece of music. After the first six measures, +however, he sat up straight in his chair and his face took on an +expression of wonder and delight. Then, resting his elbow on the +table, he nursed his cheek throughout the first movement in a +posture of earnest attention.</p> + +<p>"Why," he cried as the musician paused, "this man is a genius!"</p> + +<p>Max Merech nodded. His face was flushed and his eyes were filled +with tears.</p> + +<p>"What did I told you, Mr. Lubliner?" he said; and Jassy raised +his hand for silence while Volkovisk began the second movement. +This and the succeeding movements fully sustained the promise of +the earlier portions of the composition; and when at length +Volkovisk rose from the piano stool and approached the table +Kammerman jumped from his chair and wrung the composer's hand.</p> + +<p>"Sit in my chair," he insisted, and snapped his fingers at +Marculescu, who fumed impotently behind the cashier's desk.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>"Here," he called; "more wine—and look sharp about it!"</p> + +<p>Marculescu obeyed sulkily and again the glasses were filled.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," Kammerman said, "and Mrs. Lubliner, I ask you to +drink to a great career just beginning."</p> + +<p>"Lots of people said that before," Max murmured after he had +emptied his glass.</p> + +<p>"They said it," Kammerman replied, "but I pledge it. You shall +play no more in this place, Volkovisk—and here is my hand on +it."</p> + +<p>Max Merech beamed across the table at his employer.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Lubliner," he said, "you lost your chance."</p> + +<p>Elkan shrugged and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Might you could find another of them genius fellers for me +maybe, Max?" he said.</p> + +<p>And therewith Kammerman slapped Milton Jassy on the back.</p> + +<p>"By Jove! We forgot your trio," he said. "Play it, Volkovisk, as +your valedictory here."</p> + +<p>Again Volkovisk sought the piano, and after whispered +instructions to his assistants he began a rendition of Jassy's +"Opus 47," from the manuscript Milton had brought with him; but, +allowing for the faulty technic of the 'cellist and the +uncertainty that attends the first reading from manuscript of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> +any composition, there was little to recommend Jassy's work.</p> + +<p>"Very creditable!" Kammerman said at the end of the movement. +"Perhaps we might hear the rest."</p> + +<p>Max kept his eyes fixed on the table to avoid looking at Jassy, +and even Volkovisk seemed embarrassed as he swung round on the +piano stool.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he said inquiringly.</p> + +<p>Jassy emitted a bitter laugh.</p> + +<p>"That'll do, Volkovisk," he replied hoarsely. "I guess it needs +rehearsing."</p> + +<p>At this point Max attempted to create a diversion.</p> + +<p>"Look at that lady sitting there!" he said. "She puts on a yellow +hat to an old-gold dress. She's committing murder and she don't +know it!"</p> + +<p>Kammerman seized on the incident as a way of escape from +criticising Jassy's trio.</p> + +<p>"That reminds me, Lubliner," he said. "Give me your business card +if you have one with you. I must tell Mr. Dalzell, my cloak +buyer, to look over your line. I'm sure, with a designer of Mr. +Merech's artistic instincts working for you, you will be making +up just the highgrade line of goods we need."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>One year later, the usual crowd of first-nighters lounged in the +lobby of the Siddons Theatre during the intermission between the +second and third acts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> of M. Sidney Benson's newest musical +comedy, "Marjory from Marguery's," and commented with enthusiasm +on the song hit of the show—"My Blériot Maid." A number of the +more gifted even whistled the melody, skipping the hard part and +proceeding by impromptu and conventional modulation to the +refrain, which had been expressly designed by its composer, +Milton Jassy, so as to present no technical difficulties to the +most modest whistler.</p> + +<p>Through this begemmed and piping throng, Kammerman and Volkovisk +elbowed their way to the street for a breath of fresh air; and as +they reached the sidewalk Kammerman heaved a sigh of relief.</p> + +<p>"What a terrible melody!" he ejaculated.</p> + +<p>"But the plot ain't bad," Volkovisk suggested, and Kammerman +grinned involuntarily.</p> + +<p>"To be exact, the two plots aren't bad," he said. "It's made up +of two old farces. One of them is '<i>Embrassons nous, Duval</i>,' and +the other '<i>Un Garçon, de chez Gaillard</i>.'"</p> + +<p>"But the costumes are really something which you could call +beautiful!" Volkovisk declared.</p> + +<p>"Merech approved the costumes too," Kammerman agreed with a +laugh. "He left after the first act; and he said that if you +endured it to the end you were to be sure to tell Jassy the +colorings were splendid!" He lit a cigarette reflectively. "That +man is a regular shark for coloring!" he said. "It seems that +when I first met him that night he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> only an assistant cutter; +but Elkan Lubliner made him designer very shortly afterward—and +it has proved a fine thing for both of them. I understand we +bought fifteen thousand dollars' worth of goods from them during +the past year!"</p> + +<p>"He deserved all the good luck that came to him," Volkovisk +cried; and Kammerman placed his hand affectionately on his +protégé's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"There's a special Providence that looks after artists," he said +as they reëntered the theatre, "whether they paint, write, +compose, or design garments."</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FIVE" id="CHAPTER_FIVE"></a>CHAPTER FIVE</h2> +<h2>ONE OF ESAU'S FABLES</h2> +<h3>THE MOUSE SCRATCHES THE LION'S BACK; THE LION SCRATCHES THE +MOUSE'S BACK</h3> +</div> + +<p class="dropcap">"NO, ELKAN," said Louis Stout, of Flugel & Stout. "When you are +coming to compare Johnsonhurst <i>mit</i> Burgess Park it's already a +molehill to a mountain."</p> + +<p>"Burgess Park ain't such high ground neither," Elkan Lubliner +retorted. "Max Kovner says he lives out there on Linden Boulevard +three months only and he gets full up with malaria something +terrible."</p> + +<p>"Malaria we ain't got it in Burgess Park!" Louis declared. "I am +living there now six years, Elkan, and I never bought so much as +a two-grain quinine pill. Furthermore, Elkan, Kovner's malaria +you could catch in Denver, Colorado, or on an ocean steamer, +y'understand; because, with a lowlife bum like Max Kovner, which +he sits up till all hours of the night—a drinker and a gambler, +understand me—you don't got to be a professor exactly to +diagonize his trouble. It ain't malaria, Elkan, it's +<i>Katzenjammer!</i>"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>"But my Yetta is stuck on Johnsonhurst," Elkan protested, "and +she already makes up her mind we would move out there."</p> + +<p>"That was just the way with my wife," Louis said. "For six months +she is crying all the time Ogden Estates; and if I would listen +to her, Elkan, and bought out there, y'understand, instead we +would be turning down offers on our house at an advance of twenty +per cent. on the price we paid for it, we would be considering +letting the property go under foreclosure! You ought to see that +place Ogden Estates nowadays, Elkan—nothing but a bunch of +Italieners lives there."</p> + +<p>"But——" Elkan began.</p> + +<p>"Another thing," Louis Stout broke in: "Out in Johnsonhurst what +kind of society do you got? Moe Rabiner lives there, and Marks +Pasinsky lives there—and <i>Gott weiss wer noch</i>. My partner, Mr. +Flugel, is approached the other day with an offer of some +property in Johnsonhurst, and I was really in favour he should +take it up; but he says to me, 'Louis,' he says, 'a place where +such people lives like Pasinsky and Rabiner I wouldn't touch at +all!' And he was right, Elkan. Salesmen and designers only lives +in Johnsonhurst; while out in Burgess Park we got a nice class of +people living, Elkan. You know J. Kamin, of the Lee Printemps, +Pittsburgh?"</p> + +<p>"Used to was one of our best customers," Philip<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> Scheikowitz +replied, "though he passed us up last year."</p> + +<p>"His sister, Mrs. Benno Ortelsburg, lives one house by the other +with me," Louis went on. "Her husband does a big real-estate +business there. Might you also know Julius Tarnowitz, of the +Tarnowitz-Wixman Department Store, Rochester?"</p> + +<p>"Bought from us a couple years a small bill," Marcus Polatkin +said. "I wish we could sell him more."</p> + +<p>"Well, his brother, Sig Tarnowitz, lives across the street from +us," Louis cried triumphantly. "Sig's got a fine business there +on Fifth Avenue, Brooklyn."</p> + +<p>"What for a business?"</p> + +<p>"A furniture business," Louis replied. "And might you would know +also Joel Ribnik, which he is running the McKinnon-Weldon +Drygoods Company, of Cyprus, Pennsylvania?"</p> + +<p>"That's the feller what you nearly sold that big bill to last +month, Elkan," Scheikowitz commented.</p> + +<p>"Well, his sister is married to a feller by the name Robitscher, +of Robitscher, Smith & Company, the wallpaper house and interior +decorators. They got an elegant place down the street from us."</p> + +<p>"But——" Elkan began again.</p> + +<p>"But nothing, Elkan!" Marcus Polatkin interrupted with a +ferocious wink; for Louis Stout, as junior partner in the +thriving Williamsburg store<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> of Flugel & Stout, was viewing +Polatkin, Scheikowitz & Company's line preparatory to buying his +spring line of dresses. "But nothing, Elkan! Mr. Stout knows what +he is talking about, Elkan; and if I would be you, instead I +would argue with him, understand me, I would take Yetta out to +Burgess Park on Sunday and give the place a look."</p> + +<p>"That's the idea!" Louis cried. "And you should come and take +dinner with us first. Mrs. Stout would be delighted."</p> + +<p>"What time do you eat dinner?" Philip Scheikowitz asked, frowning +significantly at Elkan.</p> + +<p>"Two o'clock," Louis replied, and Polatkin and Scheikowitz nodded +in unison.</p> + +<p>"He'll be there," Polatkin declared.</p> + +<p>"At a quarter before two," Scheikowitz added and Elkan smiled +mechanically by way of assent.</p> + +<p>"So come along, Mr. Stout," Polatkin said, "and look at them +Ethel Barrymore dresses. I think you'll like 'em."</p> + +<p>He led Stout from the office as he spoke while Scheikowitz +remained behind with Elkan.</p> + +<p>"Honest, Elkan," he said, "I'm surprised to see the way you are +acting with Louis Stout!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, the way I'm acting, Mr. Scheikowitz?" Elkan +protested. "Do you think I am going to buy a house in a +neighbourhood which I don't want to live in at all just to oblige +a customer?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>"<i>Schmooes</i>, Elkan!" Scheikowitz exclaimed. "No one asks you you +should buy a house there. Be a little reasonable, Elkan. What +harm would it do you, supposing you and Yetta should go out to +Burgess Park next Sunday? Because you know the way Louis Stout +is, Elkan. He will look over our line for two weeks yet before he +decides on his order—and meantime we shouldn't entegonize him."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to antagonize him," Elkan said; "but me and Yetta +made our arrangements to go out to Johnsonhurst next Sunday."</p> + +<p>"Go out there the Sunday after," cried Scheikowitz. "Johnsonhurst +would still be on the map, Elkan. It ain't going to run away +exactly."</p> + +<p>Thus persuaded, Elkan and Yetta on the following Sunday elbowed +their way through the crowd at the entrance of the Brooklyn +Bridge, and after a delay of several minutes boarded a train for +Burgess Park.</p> + +<p>"Well, all I can say is," Yetta gasped, after they had seized on +the only vacant seats in the car, "if it's this way on Sunday +what would it be on weekdays?"</p> + +<p>"There must have been a block," Elkan said meekly. Only by the +exercise of the utmost marital diplomacy had he induced his wife +to make the visit to Louis Stout's home, and one of his most +telling arguments had been the advantage of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> elevated +railroad journey to Burgess Park over the subway ride to +Johnsonhurst.</p> + +<p>"Furthermore," Yetta insisted, referring to another of Elkan's +plausible reasons for visiting Burgess Park, "I suppose all these +Italieners and <i>Bétzimmers</i> are customers of yours which we was +going to run across on our way down there. Ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Elkan blushed guiltily as he looked about him at the carload of +holiday-makers; but a moment later he exclaimed aloud as he +recognized in a seat across the aisle no less a person than +Joseph Kamin, of Le Printemps, Pittsburgh.</p> + +<p>"Why, how do you do, Mr. Kamin?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Not Elkan Lubliner, from Polatkin, Scheikowitz & Company?" Mr. +Kamin exclaimed. "Well, who would think to meet you here!"</p> + +<p>He rose from his seat, whereat a bulky Italian immediately sank +into it; and as livery of seizin he appropriated the comic +section of Mr. Kamin's Sunday paper, which had fallen to the +floor of the car, and spread it wide open in front of him.</p> + +<p>"Now you lost your seat," Elkan said; "so you should take mine."</p> + +<p>He jumped to his feet and Kamin sat down in his place, while a +Neapolitan who hung on an adjacent strap viciously scowled his +disappointment.</p> + +<p>"You ain't acquainted with Mrs. Lubliner?" Elkan said.</p> + +<p>"Pleased to meetcher," Kamin murmured.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>Yetta bowed stiffly and Elkan hastened to make conversation by +way of relieving Mr. Kamin's embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"Looks like an early spring the way people is going to the +country in such crowds," he said.</p> + +<p>"I bet yer," Kamin rejoined emphatically. "I arrived in New York +two weeks ahead of my schedule, because I simply got to do my +buying now or lose a lot of early spring trade."</p> + +<p>"Have you been in town long?" Elkan asked.</p> + +<p>"Only this morning," Kamin answered; "and I am going down to eat +dinner with my sister, Mrs. Ortelsburg. She lives in Burgess +Park."</p> + +<p>"Is that so?" Elkan exclaimed. "We ourselves are going to Burgess +Park—to visit a friend."</p> + +<p>"A customer," Yetta corrected.</p> + +<p>"A customer could also be a friend," Kamin declared, "especially +if he's a good customer."</p> + +<p>"This is a very good customer," Elkan went on, "by the name Louis +Stout."</p> + +<p>"Louis Stout, from Flugel & Stout?" Kamin cried. "Why, him and +Benno Ortelsburg is like brothers already! Well, then, I'll +probably see you down in Burgess Park this afternoon, on account +every Sunday afternoon Louis plays pinocle at my brother-in-law's +house. Why don't he fetch you round to take a hand?"</p> + +<p>"I should be delighted," Elkan said; but Yetta sniffed audibly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>"I guess we would be going home right after dinner, before the +crowd starts back," she said.</p> + +<p>"Not on a fine day like this you wouldn't," Kamin protested; +"because once you get out to Burgess Park you ain't in such a +hurry to come back. I wish we would got such a place near +Pittsburgh, Mrs. Lubliner. I bet yer I would quick move out +there. The smoke gets worser and worser in Pittsburgh; in fact, +it's so nowadays we couldn't sell a garment in pastel shades."</p> + +<p>"Well, we got plenty blacks, navy blues, Copenhagen blues and +brown in our spring line, Mr. Kamin," Elkan said; and therewith +he commenced so graphically to catalogue Polatkin, Scheikowitz & +Company's new stock that, by the time the train drew into Burgess +Park, Kamin was making figures on the back of an envelope in an +effort to convince Elkan that his prices were all wrong.</p> + +<p>"But, anyhow," Kamin said, as they parted in front of the +Ortelsburgs' colonial residence, "I will see you in the store +to-morrow morning sure."</p> + +<p>"You'll see me before then, because me and Yetta is coming round +this afternoon sure—ain't we, Yetta?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lubliner nodded, for her good humour had been restored by +Elkan's splendid exhibition of salesmanship.</p> + +<p>"This afternoon is something else again," Kamin said, "because a +feller which tries to mix pinocle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> with business is apt to +overplay his hand in both games."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>"No, Joe; you're wrong," Benno Ortelsburg said to his +brother-in-law, Joseph Kamin, as they sipped their after-dinner +coffee in the Ortelsburg library that day. "It wouldn't be taking +advantage of the feller at all. You say yourself he tries to sell +goods to you on the car already. Why shouldn't we try to sell +Glaubmann's house to him while he's down here? And we'll split +the commission half and half."</p> + +<p>Kamin hesitated before replying.</p> + +<p>"In business, Joe—it's Esau's fable of the lion and the mouse +every time!" Ortelsburg continued. "The mouse scratches the +lion's back and the lion scratches the mouse's back! Ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"But you know so well as I do, Benno, that Glaubmann's house on +Linden Boulevard ain't worth no eighteen thousand dollars," Kamin +said.</p> + +<p>"Why ain't it?" Benno retorted. "Glaubmann's Linden Boulevard +house is precisely the same house as this, built from the same +plans and everything—and this house costs me thirteen thousand +five hundred dollars. Suburban real estate is worth just so much +as you can get some sucker to pay for it, Joe. So I guess I +better get the cards and chips ready, because I see Glaubmann +coming up the street now."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>A moment later Glaubmann entered the library and greeted Kamin +uproariously.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Joe!" he cried. "How's the drygoods business in +Pittsburgh?"</p> + +<p>"Not so good as the real-estate business in Burgess Park, +Barney," Kamin replied. "They tell me you are selling houses hand +over fist."</p> + +<p>"<i>Yow</i>—hand over fist!" Barnett cried. "If I carry a house six +months and sell it at a couple thousand dollars' profit, what is +it?"</p> + +<p>"I got to get rid of a whole lot of garments to make a couple +thousand dollars, Barney," Kamin said; "and, anyhow, if you sell +a house for eighteen thousand dollars which it cost you +thirteen-five you would be making a little more as four thousand +dollars."</p> + +<p>"Sure I would," Glaubmann replied; "<i>aber</i> the people which buys +green-goods and gold bricks ain't investing in +eighteen-thousand-dollar propositions! Such yokels you could only +interest in hundred-dollar lots between high and low water on +some of them Jersey sandbars."</p> + +<p>"There is all kinds of come-ons, Barney," Joe said, "and the +biggest one, understand me, is the business man who is willing to +be played for a sucker, so as he can hold his customers' trade."</p> + +<p>"You got the proper real-estate spirit, Joe," Benno declared, as +he returned with the cards and chips. "You don't allow the ground +to grow under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> your feet. Just at present, though, we are going +to spiel a little pinocle and we would talk business afterward."</p> + +<p>"Real estate ain't business," Kamin retorted. "It's a game like +pinocle; and I got a little Jack of Diamonds and Queen of Spades +coming round here in a few minutes which I would like to meld."</p> + +<p>"Now you are talking poetry," Barnett said.</p> + +<p>"Take it from me, Barney," Benno Ortelsburg interrupted, "this +ain't no poetry. It's a fact; and if you could see your way clear +to pay a thousand dollars' commission, y'understand, me and Joe +is got a customer for your Linden Boulevard house at eighteen +thousand dollars."</p> + +<p>"Jokes you are making me!" Barnett cried. "You shouldn't drink so +much schnapps after dinner, Benno, because I could as much get +eighteen thousand for that Linden Boulevard house as I would pay +you a thousand dollars commission if I got it."</p> + +<p>"You ain't paying me the thousand dollars," Benno protested. +"Don't you suppose Joe's got a look-in-here?"</p> + +<p>"And furthermore," Joe said, "you also got Louis Stout to +consider. If you think Louis Stout is going to sit by and see a +commission walk past him, Benno, you are making a big mistake."</p> + +<p>"I'm willing we should give Louis a hundred or so," Benno agreed. +"We got to remember Louis is a customer of his also."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>"A customer of who's?" Barnett asked, as the doorbell rang.</p> + +<p>"<i>Stiegen!</i>" Benno hissed; and a moment later he ushered Elkan +and Yetta into the library, while Mr. Stout brought up the rear.</p> + +<p>Benno cleared his throat preparatory to introducing the +newcomers, but Louis Stout brushed hastily past him.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Glaubmann," Louis said, "this is my friend, Elkan Lubliner."</p> + +<p>"And you forget Mrs. Lubliner," cried Mrs. Ortelsburg, who had +hurried downstairs at the sound of voices in the hall. "I'm Mrs. +Ortelsburg," she continued, turning to Yetta. "Won't you come +upstairs and take your things off?"</p> + +<p>"Elkan," Louis Stout continued, "you better go along with her. I +want you to see what an elegant lot of clothes-closets they got +upstairs. You know most houses is designed by archytecks which +all they are trying to do is to save money for the builder. +<i>Aber</i> this archyteck was an exception. The way he figures it he +tries to build the house to please the women, <i>mit</i> lots of +closet room, and—excuse me, ladies—to hell with the expenses! +I'll go upstairs with you and show you what I mean."</p> + +<p>Benno frowned angrily.</p> + +<p>"'Tain't necessary, Louis," he said. "Mrs. Ortelsburg would show +him."</p> + +<p>He drew forward chairs; and, after Elkan and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> Yetta had followed +Mrs. Ortelsburg upstairs, he closed the library door.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't I introduce people in my own house, Stout?" he +demanded.</p> + +<p>Louis Stout shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"If you mean as a matter of ettykit—yes," he retorted; "<i>aber</i> +if it's a real-estate transaction—no. When I bring a customer to +Mr. Glaubmann for his Linden Boulevard house, Ortelsburg, I do +the introducing myself, which afterward I don't want no broker to +claim he earned the commission by introducing the customer +first—understand me?"</p> + +<p>He seated himself and smiled calmly at Kamin, Glaubmann, and his +host.</p> + +<p>"I ain't living in the country for my health exactly," he +declared, "and don't you forget it."</p> + +<p>"Where's your written authorization from the owner?" Ortelsburg +demanded, raising a familiar point of real-estate brokerage law; +and Stout tapped his breast pocket.</p> + +<p>"Six months ago already," Stout replied, "Mr. Glaubmann writes me +if I hear of a customer for his house he would protect me, and I +got the letter here in my pocket. Ain't that right, Mr. +Glaubmann?"</p> + +<p>Glaubmann had walked toward the window and was looking out upon +the budding white poplars that spread their branches at a height +of six feet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> above the sidewalks of Burgess Park. He nodded in +confirmation of Louis' statement; and as he did so a short, stout +person, who was proceeding hurriedly down the street in the +direction of the station, paused in front of the Ortelsburg +residence. A moment later he rang the bell and Ortelsburg himself +opened the door.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>, Mr. Kovner!" he said. "What could I do for you?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Glaubmann just nods to me out of your window," Max Kovner +replied, "and I thought he wants to speak to me."</p> + +<p>Benno returned to the library with Max at his heels.</p> + +<p>"Do you want to speak to Mr. Kovner, Glaubmann?" he asked, and +Glaubmann started perceptibly. During the months of Max Kovner's +tenancy Glaubmann had not only refrained from visiting his Linden +Boulevard house, but he had also performed feats of disappearance +resembling Indian warfare in his efforts to avoid Max Kovner on +the streets of Burgess Park. All this was the result of Max +Kovner's taking possession of the Linden Boulevard house upon +Glaubmann's agreement to make necessary plumbing repairs and to +paint and repaper the living rooms; and Glaubmann's complete +breach of this agreement was reflected in the truculency of Max +Kovner's manner as he entered the Ortelsburg library.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>"Maybe Glaubmann don't want to speak to me," he cried, "but I +want to speak to him, and in the presence of you gentlemen here +also."</p> + +<p>He banged Ortelsburg's library table with his clenched fist.</p> + +<p>"Once and for all, Mr. Glaubmann," he said, "either you would fix +that plumbing and do that painting, understand me, or I would +move out of your Linden Boulevard house the first of next month +sure!"</p> + +<p>Glaubmann received this ultimatum with a defiant grin.</p> + +<p>"<i>Schmooes</i>, Kovner," he said, "you wouldn't do nothing of the +kind! You got <i>mit</i> me a verbal lease for one year in the +presence of my wife, your wife and a couple of other people which +the names I forget."</p> + +<p>"And how about the repairs?" Kovner demanded.</p> + +<p>"If you seen the house needs repairs and you go into possession +anyhow," Glaubmann retorted, "you waive the repairs, because the +agreement to repair merges in the lease. That's what Kent J. +Goldstein, my lawyer, says, Kovner; and ask any other lawyer, +Kovner, and he could tell you the same."</p> + +<p>"So," Kovner exclaimed, "I am stuck with that rotten house for a +year! Is that the idee?"</p> + +<p>Glaubmann nodded.</p> + +<p>"All right, Mr. Glaubmann," Kovner concluded. "You are here in a +strange house to me and I couldn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> do nothing; but I am coming +over to your office to-morrow, and if I got to sit there all day, +understand me, we would settle this thing up."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Ortelsburg interrupted. "When you got +real-estate business with Glaubmann, Mr. Kovner, his office is +the right place to see him. <i>Aber</i> here is a private house and +Sunday, Mr. Kovner, and we ain't doing no real-estate business +here. So, if you got a pressing engagement somewheres else, Mr. +Kovner, don't let me hurry you."</p> + +<p>He opened the library door, and with a final glare at his +landlord Max passed slowly out.</p> + +<p>"That's a dangerous feller," Glaubmann said as his tenant banged +the street door behind him. "He goes into possession for one year +without a written lease containing a covenant for repairs by the +landlord, y'understand, and now he wants to blame me for it! +Honestly, the way some people acts so unreasonable, Kamin, it's +enough to sicken me with the real-estate business!"</p> + +<p>Kamin nodded sympathetically, but Louis Stout made an impatient +gesture by way of bringing the conversation back to its original +theme.</p> + +<p>"That ain't here or there," he declared. "The point is I am +fetching you a customer for your Linden Boulevard house, +Glaubmann, and I want this here matter of the commission settled +right away."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>Ortelsburg rose to his feet as a shuffling on the stairs +announced the descent of his guests.</p> + +<p>"Commissions we would talk about afterward," he said. "First let +us sell the house."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>In Benno Ortelsburg's ripe experience there were as many methods +of selling suburban residences as there were residences for sale; +and, like the born salesman he was, he realized that each +transaction possessed its individual obstacles, to be overcome by +no hard-and-fast rules of salesmanship. Thus he quickly divined +that whoever sought to sell Elkan a residence in Burgess Park +must first convince Yetta, and he proceeded immediately to +apportion the chips for a five-handed game of auction pinocle, +leaving Yetta to be entertained by his wife. Mrs. Ortelsburg's +powers of persuasion in the matter of suburban property were +second only to her husband's, and the game had not proceeded very +far when Benno looked into the adjoining room and observed with +satisfaction that Yetta was listening open-mouthed to Mrs. +Ortelsburg's fascinating narrative of life in Burgess Park.</p> + +<p>"Forty hens we got it," she declared; "and this month alone they +are laying on us every day a dozen eggs—some days ten, or nine +at the least. Then, of course, if we want a little fricassee once +in a while we could do that also."</p> + +<p>"How do you do when you are getting all of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> sudden company?" +Yetta asked. "I didn't see no delicatessen store round here."</p> + +<p>"You didn't?" Mrs. Ortelsburg exclaimed. "Why, right behind the +depot is Mrs. J. Kaplan's a delicatessen store, which I am only +saying to her yesterday, 'Mrs. Kaplan,' I says, 'how do you got +all the time such fresh, nice smoke-tongue here?' And she says, +'It's the country air,' she says, 'which any one could see; not +alone smoke-tongue keeps fresh, <i>aber</i> my daughter also, when she +comes down here,' she says, 'she is pale like anything—and look +at her now!' And it's a fact, Mrs. Lubliner, the daughter did +look sick, and to-day yet she's got a complexion fresh like a +tomato already. That's what Burgess Park done for her!"</p> + +<p>"But don't you got difficulty keeping a girl, Mrs. Ortelsburg?" +Yetta inquired.</p> + +<p>"Difficulty?" Mrs. Ortelsburg cried. "Why, just let me show you +my kitchen. The girls love it here. In the first place, we are +only twenty minutes from Coney Island; and, in the second place, +with all the eggs which we got it, they could always entertain +their fellers here in such a fine, big kitchen, which I am +telling my girl, Lena: 'So long as you give 'em omelets or fried +eggs <i>mit</i> fat, Lena, I don't care how many eggs you use—<i>aber</i> +butter is butter in Burgess Park <i>oder</i> Harlem.'"</p> + +<p>In this vein Mrs. Ortelsburg continued for more than an hour, +while she conducted Yetta to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> kitchen and cellar and back +again to the bedrooms above stairs, until she decided that +sufficient interest had been aroused to justify the more robust +method of her husband. She therefore returned to the library, and +therewith began for Benno Ortelsburg the real business of the +afternoon.</p> + +<p>"Well, boys," he said, "I guess we would quit pinocle for a while +and join the ladies."</p> + +<p>He chose for this announcement a moment when Elkan's chips showed +a profit of five dollars; and as, in his capacity of banker, he +adjusted the losses of the other players, he kept up a merry +conversation directed at Mrs. Lubliner.</p> + +<p>"Here in Burgess Park," he said, "we play pinocle and we leave it +alone; while in the city when a couple business men play pinocle +they spend a day at it—and why? Because they only get a chance +to play pinocle once in a while occasionally. Every night they +are going to theatre <i>oder</i> a lodge affair, understand me; +whereas here, the train service at night not being so extra +elegant, y'understand, we got good houses and we stay in 'em; +which in Burgess Park after half-past seven in the evening any +one could find a dozen pinocle games to play in—and all of 'em +breaks up by half-past ten already."</p> + +<p>With this tribute to the transit facilities and domesticity of +Burgess Park, he concluded stacking up the chips and turned to +Mrs. Lubliner.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>"Yes, Mrs. Lubliner," he continued with an amiable smile, "if you +wouldn't persuade your husband to move out to Burgess Park, +understand me, I shall consider it you don't like our house here +at all."</p> + +<p>"But I do like your house!" Yetta protested.</p> + +<p>"I should hope so," Benno continued, "on account it would be a +poor compliment to a lot of people which could easy be good +customers of your husband. For instance, this house was decorated +by Robitscher, Smith & Company, which Robitscher lives across the +street already; and his wife is Joel Ribnik's—the +McKinnon-Weldon Drygoods Company's—a sister already."</p> + +<p>"You don't tell me?" Yetta murmured.</p> + +<p>"And Joel is staying with 'em right now," Benno went on. +"Furthermore, we got our furniture and carpets by Sig Tarnowitz, +which he lives a couple of doors down from here—also got +relatives in the retail drygoods business by the name +Tarnowitz-Wixman Drygoods Company. The brother, Julius Tarnowitz, +is eating dinner with 'em to-day."</p> + +<p>"It's a regular buyers' colony here, so to speak," Louis Stout +said, and Joseph Kamin nodded.</p> + +<p>"Tell you what you do, Benno," Joseph suggested. "Get Tarnowitz +and Ribnik to come over here. I think Elkan would like to meet +them."</p> + +<p>Benno slapped his thigh with a resounding blow.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>"That's a great idee!" he cried; and half an hour later the +Ortelsburg library was thronged with visitors, for not only Joel +Ribnik and Julius Tarnowitz had joined Benno's party, but seated +in easy chairs were Robitscher, the decorator, and Tarnowitz, the +furniture dealer.</p> + +<p>"Yes, siree, sir!" Robitscher cried. "Given the same decorative +treatment to that Linden Boulevard house, Mr. Lubliner, and it +would got Ortelsburg's house here skinned to pieces, on account +over there it is more open and catches the sun afternoon and +morning both."</p> + +<p>During this pronouncement Elkan's face wore a ghastly smile and +he underwent the sensations of the man in the tonneau of a +touring car which is beginning to skid toward a telegraph pole.</p> + +<p>"In that case I should recommend you don't buy a Kermanshah rug +for the front room," Sigmund Tarnowitz interrupted. "I got in my +place right now an antique Beloochistan, which I would let go at +only four hundred dollars."</p> + +<p>"<i>Aber</i> four hundred dollars is an awful lot of money to pay for +a rug," Elkan protested. He had avoided looking at Yetta for the +past half-hour; but now he glanced fearfully at her, and in doing +so received a distinct shock, for Yetta sat with shining eyes and +flushed cheeks, inoculated beyond remedy with the virus of the +artistic-home fever.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>"Four hundred ain't so much for a rug," she declared.</p> + +<p>"Not for an antique Beloochistan," Sig Tarnowitz said, "because +every year it would increase in value on you."</p> + +<p>"Just the same like that Linden Boulevard house," Ortelsburg +added, "which you could take it from me, Mrs. Lubliner, if you +don't get right away an offer of five hundred dollars advance on +your purchase price I would eat the house, plumbing and all."</p> + +<p>At the word "plumbing" Glaubmann started visibly.</p> + +<p>"The plumbing would be fixed so good as new," he said; "and I +tell you what I would do also, Mr. Lubliner—I would pay fifty +per cent. of the decorations if Mr. Ortelsburg would make me an +allowance of a hundred dollars on the commission!"</p> + +<p>"Could anything be fairer than this?" Ortelsburg exclaimed; and +he grinned maliciously as Louis Stout succumbed to a fit of +coughing.</p> + +<p>"But we ain't even seen the house!" Elkan cried.</p> + +<p>"Never mind we ain't seen it," Yetta said; "if the house is the +same like this that's all I care about."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Elkan replied; "but I want to see the house first +before I would even commence to think of buying it."</p> + +<p>"<i>Schon gut!</i>" Glaubmann said. "I ain't got no objection to show +you the house from the outside;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> <i>aber</i> there is at present +people living in the house, understand me, which for the present +we couldn't go inside."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lubliner don't want to see the inside, Glaubmann!" +Ortelsburg cried, in tones implying that he deprecated +Glaubmann's suggestion as impugning Elkan's good faith in the +matter. "The inside would be repaired and decorated to suit, Mr. +Glaubmann, but the outside he's got a right to see; so we would +all go round there and give a look."</p> + +<p>Ten minutes afterward a procession of nine persons passed through +the streets of Burgess Park and lingered on the sidewalk opposite +Glaubmann's house. There Ortelsburg descanted on the +comparatively high elevation of Linden Boulevard and Mrs. +Ortelsburg pointed out the chicken-raising possibilities of the +back lot; and, after gazing at the shrubbery and incipient shade +trees that were planted in the front yard, the line of march was +resumed in the direction of Burgess Park's business +neighbourhood. Another pause was made at Mrs. J. Kaplin's +delicatessen store; and, laden with packages of smoked tongue, +Swiss cheese and dill pickles, the procession returned to the +Ortelsburg residence marshalled by Benno Ortelsburg, who wielded +as a baton a ten-cent loaf of rye bread.</p> + +<p>Thus the remainder of the evening was spent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> in feasting and more +pinocle until nearly midnight, when Elkan and Yetta returned to +town on the last train. Hence, with his late homecoming and the +Ortelsburgs' delicatessen supper, Elkan slept ill that night, so +that it was past nine o'clock before he arrived at his office the +following morning. Instead of the satirical greeting which he +anticipated from his senior partner, however, he was received +with unusual cordiality by Polatkin, whose face was spread in a +grin.</p> + +<p>"Well, Elkan," he said, "you done a good job when you decided to +buy that house."</p> + +<p>"When I decided to buy the house? Who says I decided to buy the +house?" Elkan cried.</p> + +<p>"J. Kamin did," Polatkin explained. "He was here by a quarter to +eight already; and not alone J. Kamin was here, but Joel Ribnik +and Julius Tarnowitz comes in also. Scheikowitz and me has been +on the jump, I bet yer; in fact, Scheikowitz is in there now with +J. Kamin and Tarnowitz. Between 'em, those fellers has picked out +four thousand dollars' goods."</p> + +<p>Elkan looked at his partner in unfeigned astonishment.</p> + +<p>"So soon?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Ribnik too," Polatkin continued. "He makes a selection of nine +hundred dollars' goods—among 'em a couple stickers like them +styles 2040 and 2041. He says he is coming back in half an hour, on +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>account he's got an appointment with a brother-in-law of his."</p> + +<p>"By the name Robitscher?" Elkan asked.</p> + +<p>"That's the feller," Polatkin answered. "Ribnik says you promised +Robitscher the decorations from the house you are buying."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean I promised him the decorations from the house I +am buying?" Elkan exclaimed in anguished tones. "In the first +place, I ain't promised him nothing of the kind; and, in the +second place, I ain't even bought the house yet."</p> + +<p>"That part will be fixed up all right," Polatkin replied, +"because Mr. Glaubmann rings up half an hour ago, and he says +that so soon as we need him and the lawyer we should telephone +for 'em."</p> + +<p>For a brief interval Elkan choked with rage.</p> + +<p>"Say, lookyhere, Mr. Polatkin," he sputtered at last, "who is +going to live in this house—you <i>oder</i> me?"</p> + +<p>"You are going to live in the house, Elkan," Polatkin declared, +"because me I don't need a house. I already got one house, Elkan, +and I ain't twins exactly; and also them fellers is very plain +about it, Elkan, which they told me and Scheikowitz up and down, +that if you wouldn't buy the house they wouldn't confirm us the +orders."</p> + +<p>At this juncture Scheikowitz entered the office. From the doorway +of the showroom he had observed the discussion between Elkan and +his partner; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> he had entirely deserted his prospective +customers to aid in Elkan's coercion.</p> + +<p>"Polatkin is right, Elkan!" he cried. "You got to consider Louis +Stout also. Kamin said he would never forgive us if the deal +didn't go through."</p> + +<p>Elkan bit his lips irresolutely.</p> + +<p>"I don't see what you are hesitating about," Polatkin went on. +"Yetta likes the house—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"She's crazy about it," Elkan admitted.</p> + +<p>"Then what's the use talking?" Scheikowitz declared; and he +glanced anxiously toward Tarnowitz and Kamin, who were holding a +whispered conference in the showroom. "Let's make an end and get +the thing over. Telephone this here Glaubmann he should come +right over with Ortelsburg and the lawyer."</p> + +<p>"But ain't I going to have no lawyer neither?" Elkan demanded.</p> + +<p>"Sure you are," Scheikowitz replied. "I took a chance, Elkan, and +I telephoned Henry D. Feldman half an hour since already. He says +he would send one up of his assistants, Mr. Harvey J. Sugarberg, +right away."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>When it came to drawing a real-estate contract there existed for +Kent J. Goldstein no incongruities of time and place. Kent was +the veteran of a dozen real-estate booms, during which he had +drafted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> agreements at all hours of the day and night, +improvising as his office the back room of a liquor saloon or the +cigar counter of a barber shop; and, in default of any other +writing material, he was quite prepared to tattoo a brief though +binding agreement with gunpowder on the skin of the vendor's +back.</p> + +<p>Thus the transaction between Glaubmann and Elkan Lubliner +presented no difficulties to Kent J. Goldstein; and he handled +the details with such care and dispatch that the contract was +nearly finished before Harvey J. Sugarberg remembered the +instructions of his principal. As attorney for the buyer, it was +Henry D. Feldman's practice to see that the contract of sale +provided every opportunity for his client lawfully to avoid +taking title should he desire for any reason, lawful or unlawful, +to back out; and this rule of his principal occurred to Harvey +just as he and Goldstein were writing the clause relating to +incumbrances.</p> + +<p>"The premises are to be conveyed free and clear of all +incumbrances," Kent read aloud, "except the mortgage and covenant +against nuisances above described and the present tenancies of +said premises."</p> + +<p>He had brought with him two blank forms of agreement; and as he +filled in the blanks on one of them he read aloud what he was +writing and Harvey Sugarberg inserted the same clause in the +other. Up to this juncture Harvey had taken Kent's dictation with +such remarkable docility that Elkan<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> and his partners had +frequently exchanged disquieting glances, and they were +correspondingly elated when Harvey at length balked.</p> + +<p>"One moment, Mr. Goldstein," he said—and, but for a slight +nervousness, he reproduced with histrionic accuracy the tone and +gesture of his employer—"as <i>locum tenens</i> for my principal I +must decline to insert the phrase, 'and the present tenancies of +said premises.'"</p> + +<p>Kent wasted no time in forensic dispute when engaged in a +real-estate transaction, though, if necessary, he could make +kindling of the strongest rail that ever graced the front of a +jury-box.</p> + +<p>"How 'bout it, Glaubmann?" he said. "The premises is +occupied—ain't they?"</p> + +<p>Glaubmann flapped his right hand in a gesture of <i>laissez-faire</i>.</p> + +<p>"The feller moves out by the first of next month," he said; and +Kent turned to Elkan.</p> + +<p>"Are you satisfied that the tenant stays in the house until the +first?" he asked. "That will be three days after the contract is +closed."</p> + +<p>Elkan shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" he said.</p> + +<p>"All right, Mr.——Forget your name!" Kent cried. "Cut out 'and +the present tenancies of said premises.'"</p> + +<p>At this easy victory a shade of disappointment passed over the +faces of Harvey Sugarberg and his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> clients, and the contract +proceeded without further objection to its rapid conclusion.</p> + +<p>"Now then, my friends," Kent announced briskly, "we're ready for +the signatures."</p> + +<p>At this, the crucial point of all real-estate transactions, a +brief silence fell upon the assembled company, which included not +only the attorneys and the clients, but Ortelsburg, Kamin, +Tarnowitz and Ribnik as well. Finally Glaubmann seized a pen, +and, jabbing it viciously in an inkpot, he made a John Hancock +signature at the foot of the agreement's last page.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mr. Lubliner," Kent said—and Elkan hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Ain't we going to wait for Louis Stout?" he asked; and +immediately there was a roar of protest that sounded like a mob +scene in a Drury Lane melodrama.</p> + +<p>"If Louis Stout ain't here it's his own fault," Ortelsburg +declared; and Ribnik, Tarnowitz, and Kamin glowered in unison.</p> + +<p>"I guess he's right, Elkan," Polatkin murmured.</p> + +<p>"It is his own fault if he ain't here," Scheikowitz agreed +feebly; and, thus persuaded, Elkan appended a small and, by +contrast with Glaubmann's, a wholly unimpressive signature to the +agreement. Immediately thereafter Elkan passed over a certified +check for eight hundred dollars, according to the terms of the +contract, which provided that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> title be closed in twenty days +at the office of Henry D. Feldman.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Lubliner," Glaubmann said, employing the formula +hallowed by long usage in all real-estate transactions involving +improved property, "I wish you luck in your new house."</p> + +<p>"Much obliged," Elkan said; and after a general handshaking the +entire assemblage crowded into one elevator, so that finally +Elkan was left alone with his partners.</p> + +<p>Polatkin was the first to break a silence of over five minutes' +duration.</p> + +<p>"Ain't it funny," he said, "that we ain't heard from Louis?"</p> + +<p>Scheikowitz nodded; and as he did so the elevator door creaked +noisily and there alighted a short, stout person, who, having +once been described in the I. O. M. A. Monthly as Benjamin J. +Flugel, the Merchant Prince, had never since walked abroad save +in a freshly ironed silk hat and a Prince Albert coat.</p> + +<p>"Why, how do you do, Mr. Flugel?" Polatkin and Scheikowitz cried +with one voice, and Mr. Flugel bowed. Albeit a tumult raged +within his breast, he remained outwardly the dignified man of +business; and, as Elkan viewed for the first time Louis Stout's +impressive partner, he could not help congratulating himself on +the mercantile sagacity that had made him buy Glaubmann's house.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>"And this is Mr. Lubliner?" Flugel said in even tones.</p> + +<p>"Pleased to meet you," Elkan said. "I had dinner with your +partner only yesterday."</p> + +<p>Flugel gulped convulsively in an effort to remain calm.</p> + +<p>"I know it," he said; "and honestly the longer I am in business +with that feller the more I got to wonder what a <i>Schlemiel</i> he +is. Actually he goes to work and tries to do his own partner +without knowing it at all. Mind you, if he would be doing it from +spite I could understand it; but when one partner don't know that +the other partner practically closes a deal for a tract of a +hundred lots and six houses in Johnsonhurst, and then persuades a +prospective purchaser that, instead of buying in Johnsonhurst, he +should buy in Burgess Park, understand me, all I got to say is +that if Louis Stout ain't crazy the least he deserves is that the +feller really and truly should buy in Burgess Park."</p> + +<p>"But, Mr. Flugel," Elkan interrupted, "I did buy in Burgess +Park."</p> + +<p>"What!" Flugel shouted.</p> + +<p>"I say that I made a contract for a house out there this morning +only," Elkan said.</p> + +<p>For a few seconds it seemed as though Benjamin J. Flugel's +heirs-at-law would collect a substantial death benefit from the +I. O. M. A., but the impending<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> apoplexy was warded off by a +tremendous burst of profanity.</p> + +<p>"<i>Aber</i>, Mr. Flugel," Scheikowitz protested, "Louis tells us only +last Saturday, understand me, you told him that Johnsonhurst you +wouldn't touch at all, on account such lowlifes like Rabiner and +Pasinsky lives out there!"</p> + +<p>"I know I told him that," Flugel yelled; "because, if I would say +I am going to buy out there, Stout goes to work and blabs it all +over the place, and the first thing you know they would jump the +price on me a few thousand dollars. He's a dangerous feller, +Louis is, Mr. Scheikowitz!"</p> + +<p>Elkan shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"That may be, Mr. Flugel," he said, "but I signed the contract +with Glaubmann for his house on Linden Boulevard—and that's all +there is to it!"</p> + +<p>Polatkin and Scheikowitz nodded in melancholy unison.</p> + +<p>"Do you got the contract here?" Flugel asked; and Elkan picked up +the document from his desk, where it had been placed by +Goldstein.</p> + +<p>"You paid a fancy price for the house," Flugel continued, as he +examined the agreement.</p> + +<p>"I took your partner's advice, Mr. Flugel," Elkan retorted.</p> + +<p>"Why, for eighteen thousand five hundred dollars, in +Johnsonhurst," Flugel continued, "I could give you a palace +already!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>He scanned the various clauses of the contract with the critical +eye of an experienced real-estate operator; and before he had +completed his examination the elevator door again creaked open.</p> + +<p>"Is Glaubmann gone?" cried a voice from the interior of the car, +and the next moment Kovner alighted.</p> + +<p>Flugel looked up from the contract.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Kovner," he said, "are you in this deal too?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't in any deal," Kovner replied. "I am looking for Barnett +Glaubmann. They told me in his office he is coming over here and +would be here all the morning."</p> + +<p>"Well, he was here," Elkan replied, "but he went away again."</p> + +<p>Kovner sat down without invitation.</p> + +<p>"It ain't no more as I expected," he began in the dull, resigned +tones of a man with a grievance. "That swindler has been dodging +me for four months now, and I guess he will keep on dodging me +for the rest of the year that he claims I got a lease on his +house for."</p> + +<p>"What house?" Flugel asked.</p> + +<p>"The house which I am living in it," Max replied—"on Linden +Boulevard, Burgess Park."</p> + +<p>"On Linden Boulevard, Burgess Park!" Flugel repeated. "Why, then +it's the same house—ain't it, Lubliner?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>Elkan nodded, and as he did so Flugel struck the desk a +tremendous blow with his fist.</p> + +<p>"Fine!" he ejaculated.</p> + +<p>"Fine!" Kovner repeated. "What the devil you are talking about, +fine? Do you think it's fine I should got to live a whole year in +a house which the least it must got to be spent on it is for +plumbing a hundred dollars and for painting a couple hundred +more?"</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Flugel declared with enthusiasm. "It ain't so +bad as it looks; because if you can show that you got a right to +stay in that house for the rest of the year, understand me, I'll +make a proposition to you."</p> + +<p>"Show it?" Kovner exclaimed. "I don't got to show it, because I +couldn't help myself, Mr. Flugel. Glaubmann claims that I made a +verbal lease for one year, and he's right. I was fool enough to +do so."</p> + +<p>Flugel glanced inquiringly at Polatkin and Scheikowitz.</p> + +<p>"How about that?" he asked. "The contract don't say nothing about +a year's lease."</p> + +<p>"I know it don't," Elkan replied, "because when our lawyer raises +the question about the tenant Glaubmann says he could get him out +at any time."</p> + +<p>"And he can too," Kovner declared with emphasis, but Flugel shook +his head.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>"No, he can't, Kovner," he said; "or, anyway, he ain't going to, +because you are going to stay in that house."</p> + +<p>"With the rotten plumbing it's got?" Kovner cried. "Not by a +whole lot I ain't."</p> + +<p>"The plumbing could be fixed and the painting also," Flugel +retorted.</p> + +<p>"By Glaubmann?" Kovner asked.</p> + +<p>"No, sir," Flugel replied; "by me, with a hundred dollars cash to +boot. I would even give you an order on my plumber he should fix +up the plumbing and on my house painter he should fix up the +painting, Kovner; <i>aber</i> you got to stick it out that you are +under lease for the rest of the year."</p> + +<p>"And when do I get the work done?" Kovner demanded.</p> + +<p>"To-day," Flugel announced—"this afternoon if you want it."</p> + +<p>"But hold on there a minute!" Elkan protested. "If I am going to +take that house I don't want no painting done there till I am +good and ready."</p> + +<p>Flugel smiled loftily at Elkan.</p> + +<p>"You ain't going to take that house at all," he said, "because +the contract says that it is to be conveyed free and clear, +except the mortgage and a covenant against nuisances. So you +reject the title on the grounds that the house is leased for a +year. Do you get the idee?"</p> + +<p>Elkan nodded.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>"And next Sunday," Flugel continued, "I wish you'd take a run +down with me in my oitermobile to Johnsonhurst. It's an elegant, +high-class suburb."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Insomnia bears the same relation to the calling of real-estate +operators that fossyjaw does to the worker in the match industry; +and, during the twenty days that preceded the closing of his +contract with Elkan, Barnett Glaubmann spent many a sleepless +night in contemplation of disputed brokerage claims by Kamin, +Stout and Ortelsburg. Moreover, the knowledge that Henry D. +Feldman represented the purchaser was an influence far from +sedative; and what little sleep Glaubmann secured was filled with +nightmares of fence encroachments, defects in the legal +proceedings for opening of Linden Boulevard as a public highway, +and a score of other technical objections that Feldman might +raise to free Elkan from his contract.</p> + +<p>Not once, however, did Glaubmann consider the tenancy of Max +Kovner as any objection to title. Indeed, he was so certain of +Kovner's willingness to move out that he even pondered the +advisability of gouging Max for twenty-five or fifty dollars as a +consideration for accepting a surrender of the verbal lease; and +to that end he avoided the Linden Boulevard house until the +morning before the date set for the closing of the title.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>Then, having observed Max board the eight-five train for Brooklyn +Bridge, he sauntered off to interview Mrs. Kovner; and as he +turned the corner of Linden Boulevard he sketched out a plan of +action that had for its foundation the complete intimidation of +Mrs. Kovner. This being secured, he would proceed to suggest the +payment of fifty dollars as the alternative of strong measures +against Max Kovner for allowing the Linden Boulevard premises to +fall into such bad repair; and he was so full of his idea that he +had begun to ascend the front stoop of the Kovner house before he +noticed the odour of fresh paint.</p> + +<p>Never in the history of the Kovner house had the electric bell +been in working order. Hence Glaubmann knocked with his naked +fist and left the imprint of his four knuckles on the wet varnish +just as Mrs. Kovner flung wide the door. It was at this instant +that Glaubmann's well-laid plans were swept away.</p> + +<p>"Now see what you done, you dirty slob you!" she bellowed. +"What's the matter with you? Couldn't you ring the bell?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Mrs. Kovner," Glaubmann stammered, "the bell don't ring at +all. Ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"The bell don't ring?" Mrs. Kovner exclaimed. "Who says it +don't?"</p> + +<p>She pressed the button with her finger and a shrill response came +from within.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span>"Who fixed it?" Glaubmann asked.</p> + +<p>"Who fixed it?" Mrs. Kovner repeated. "Who do you suppose fixed +it? Do you think we got from charity to fix it? <i>Gott sei Dank</i>, +we ain't exactly beggars, Mr. Glaubmann. Ourselves we fixed it, +Mr. Glaubmann—and the painting and the plumbing also; because if +you would got in savings bank what I got it, Mr. Glaubmann, you +wouldn't make us so much trouble about paying for a couple +hundred dollars' repairs."</p> + +<p>"<i>Aber</i>," Glaubmann began, "you shouldn't of done it!"</p> + +<p>"I know we shouldn't," Mrs. Kovner replied. "We should of stayed +here the rest of the year with the place looking like a pigsty +already! <i>Aber</i> don't kick till you got to, Mr. Glaubmann. It +would be time enough to say something when we sue you by the +court yet that you should pay for the repairs we are making +here."</p> + +<p>Glaubmann pushed his hat back from his forehead and wiped his +streaming brow.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>, Mrs. Kovner," he said at last, "it seems to me we got a +misunderstanding all round here. I would like to talk the matter +over with you."</p> + +<p>With this conciliatory prelude he assumed an easy attitude by +crossing his legs and supporting himself with one hand on the +freshly painted doorjamb, whereat Mrs. Kovner uttered a horrified +shriek, and the rage which three weeks of housepainters'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> clutter +had fomented in her bosom burst forth unchecked.</p> + +<p>"Out from here, you dirty loafer you!" she shrieked, and grabbed +a calcimining brush from one of the many paintpots that bestrewed +the hallway. Glaubmann bounded down the front stoop to the +sidewalk just as Mrs. Kovner made a frenzied pass at him with the +brush; and consequently, when he entered Kent J. Goldstein's +office on Nassau Street an hour later, his black overcoat was +speckled like the hide of an axis deer.</p> + +<p>"Goldstein," he said hoarsely, "is it assault that some one +paints you from head to foot with calcimine?"</p> + +<p>"It is if you got witnesses," Goldstein replied; "otherwise it's +misfortune. Who did it?"</p> + +<p>"That she-devil—the wife of the tenant in that house I sold +Lubliner," Glaubmann replied. "I think we're going to have +trouble with them people, Goldstein."</p> + +<p>"You will if you try to sue 'em without witnesses, Glaubmann," +Goldstein observed; "because suing without witnesses is like +trying to play pinocle without cards. It can't be done."</p> + +<p>Glaubmann shook his head sadly.</p> + +<p>"I ain't going to sue 'em," he said. "I ain't so fond of lawsuits +like all that; and, besides, a little calcimine is nothing, +Goldstein, to what them people<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> can do to me. They're going to +claim they got there a year's verbal lease."</p> + +<p>Goldstein shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," he commented. "They want to gouge you for +fifty dollars or so; and, with the price you're getting for the +house, Glaubmann, you can afford to pay 'em."</p> + +<p>"Gouge nothing!" Glaubmann declared. "They just got done there a +couple hundred dollars' painting and plumbing, y'understand, and +they're going to stick it out."</p> + +<p>Goldstein pursed his lips in an ominous whistle.</p> + +<p>"A verbal lease, hey?" he muttered.</p> + +<p>Glaubmann nodded sadly.</p> + +<p>"And this time there is witnesses," he said; and he related to +his attorney the circumstances under which the original lease was +made, together with the incident attending Kovner's visit to +Ortelsburg's house.</p> + +<p>"It looks like you're up against it, Glaubmann," Goldstein +declared.</p> + +<p>"But couldn't I claim that I was only bluffing the feller?" +Glaubmann asked.</p> + +<p>"Sure you could," Goldstein replied; "but when Kovner went to +work and painted the house and fixed the plumbing he called your +bluff, Glaubmann; so the only thing to do is to ask for an +adjournment to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"And suppose they won't give it to us?" Glaubmann asked.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>Goldstein shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I'm a lawyer, Glaubmann—not a prophet," he said; "but if I know +Henry D. Feldman you won't get any adjournment—so you may as +well make your plans accordingly."</p> + +<p>For a brief interval Glaubmann nodded his head slowly, and then +he burst into a mirthless laugh.</p> + +<p>"Real estate," he said, "that's something to own. Rheumatism is a +fine asset compared to it; in fact if some one gives me my +choice, Goldstein, I would say rheumatism every time. Both of 'em +keep you awake nights; but there's one thing about rheumatism, +Goldstein"—here he indulged in another bitter laugh—"you don't +need a lawyer to get rid of it!" he said, and banged the door +behind him.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>If there was any branch of legal practice in which Henry D. +Feldman excelled it was conveyancing, and he brought to it all +the histrionic ability that made him so formidable as a trial +lawyer. Indeed, Feldman was accustomed to treat the conveyancing +department of his office as a business-getter for the more +lucrative field of litigation, and he spared no pains to make +each closing of title an impressive and dramatic spectacle.</p> + +<p>Thus the <i>mise-en-scène</i> of the Lubliner closing was excellent. +Feldman himself sat in a baronial chair at the head of his +library table, while to a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> seat on his right he had assigned Kent +J. Goldstein. On his left he had placed Mr. Jones, the +representative of the title company, a gaunt, sandy-haired man of +thirty-five who, by the device of a pair of huge horn spectacles, +had failed to distract public attention from an utterly +stupendous Adam's apple.</p> + +<p>Next to the title company's representative were placed Elkan +Lubliner and his partners, and it was to them that Henry D. +Feldman addressed his opening remarks.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lubliner," he said in the soft accents in which he began all +his crescendos, "the examination of the record title to Mr. +Glaubmann's Linden Boulevard premises has been made at my request +by the Law Title Insurance and Guaranty Company."</p> + +<p>He made a graceful obeisance toward Mr. Jones, who acknowledged +it with a convulsion of his Adam's apple.</p> + +<p>"I have also procured a survey to be made," Feldman continued; +and, amid a silence that was broken only by the heavy breathing +of Barnett Glaubmann, he held up an intricate design washed with +watercolour on glazed muslin.</p> + +<p>"Finally I have done this," he declared, and his brows gathered +in a tragic frown as his glance swept in turn the faces of Kent +J. Goldstein, Benno Ortelsburg, J. Kamin, and Glaubmann—"I have +procured an inspector's report upon the occupation of the <i>locus +in quo</i>."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>"Oo-ee!" Glaubmann murmured, and Louis Stout exchanged triumphant +glances with Polatkin and Scheikowitz.</p> + +<p>"And I find," Feldman concluded, "there is a tenant in +possession, claiming under a year's lease which will not expire +until October first next."</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones nodded and cleared his throat so noisily that, to +relieve his embarrassment, he felt obliged to crack each of his +knuckles in turn. As for Ribnik and Tarnowitz, they sat awestruck +in the rear of Feldman's spacious library and felt vaguely that +they were in a place of worship. Only Kent J. Goldstein remained +unimpressed; and in order to show it he scratched a parlour match +on the leg of Feldman's library table; whereat Feldman's +<i>ex-cathedra</i> manner forsook him.</p> + +<p>"Where in blazes do you think you are, Goldstein?" he asked in +colloquial tones—"in a barroom?"</p> + +<p>"If it's solid mahogany," Goldstein retorted, "it'll rub up like +new. I think you were talking about the tenancy of the premises +here."</p> + +<p>Feldman choked down his indignation and once more became the +dignified advocate.</p> + +<p>"That is not the only objection to title, Mr. Goldstein," he +said. "Mr. Jones, kindly read the detailed objections contained +in your report of closing."</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones nodded again and responded to Feld<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>man's demand in a +voice that profoundly justified the size of his larynx.</p> + +<p>"Description in deed dated January 1, 1783," he began, "from +Joost van Gend to William Wauters, is defective; one course +reading 'thence along said ditch north to a white-oak tree' +should be 'south to a white-oak tree.'"</p> + +<p>"Well, what's the difference?" Goldstein interrupted. "It's +monumented by the white-oak tree."</p> + +<p>"That was cut down long ago," Mr. Jones said.</p> + +<p>"Not by me!" Glaubmann declared. "I give you my word, gentlemen, +the trees on the lot is the same like I bought it."</p> + +<p>Feldman allowed his eyes to rest for a moment on the protesting +Glaubmann, who literally crumpled in his chair.</p> + +<p>"Proceed, Mr. Jones," Feldman said to the title company's +representative, who continued without further interruption to the +end of his list. This included all the technical objections which +Glaubmann had feared, as well as a novel and interesting point +concerning a partition suit in Chancery, brought in 1819, and +affecting Glaubmann's chain of title to a strip in the rear of +his lot, measuring one quarter of an inch in breadth by seven +feet in length.</p> + +<p>"So far as I can see, Feldman," Goldstein commented as Mr. Jones +laid down his report, "the only objection that will hold water is +the one con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>cerning Max Kovner's tenancy. As a matter of fact, I +have witnesses to show that Kovner has always claimed that he +didn't hold a lease."</p> + +<p>For answer, Feldman touched the button of an electric bell.</p> + +<p>"Show in Mr. and Mrs. Kovner," he said to the boy who responded. +"We'll let them speak for themselves."</p> + +<p>This, it would appear, they were more than willing to do; for as +soon as they entered the room and caught sight of Glaubmann, who +by this time was fairly cowering in his chair, they immediately +began a concerted tirade that was only ended when Goldstein +banged vigorously on the library table, using as a gavel one of +Feldman's metal-tipped rulers.</p> + +<p>"That'll do, Goldstein!" Feldman said hoarsely. "I think I can +preserve order in my own office."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you then?" Goldstein retorted, as he leaned back in +his chair and regarded with a malicious smile the damage he had +wrought.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Glaubmann," Kovner began anew, "you thought you got us +helpless there in your house; but——"</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" Feldman roared again, forgetting his rôle of the +polished advocate; and Goldstein fairly beamed with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Don't bully your own witness," he said. "Let me do it for you."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>He turned to Kovner with a beetling frown.</p> + +<p>"Now, Kovner," he commenced, "you claim you've got a verbal lease +for a year of this Linden Boulevard house, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"I sure do," Kovner replied, "and I got witnesses to prove it."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Goldstein rejoined; "so long as there's +Bibles there'll always be witnesses to swear on 'em. The point +is: How do you claim the lease was made?"</p> + +<p>"I don't claim nothing," Kovner replied. "I got a year's lease on +that property because, in the presence of my wife and his wife, +Mr. Goldstein, he says to me I must either take the house for a +year from last October to next October or I couldn't take it at +all."</p> + +<p>Feldman smiled loftily at his opponent.</p> + +<p>"The art of cross-examination is a subtle one, Goldstein," he +said, "and if you don't understand it you're apt to prove the +other fellow's case."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless," Goldstein continued, "I'm going to ask him one +more question, and that is this: When was this verbal agreement +made—before or after you moved into the house?"</p> + +<p>"Before I moved in, certainly," Kovner answered. "I told you that +he says to me I couldn't move in unless I would agree to take the +place for a year."</p> + +<p>"And when did you move in?" Goldstein continued.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>"On the first of October," Kovner said.</p> + +<p>"No, popper," Mrs. Kovner interrupted; "we didn't move in on the +first. We moved in the day before."</p> + +<p>"That's right," Kovner said—"we moved in on the thirtieth of +September."</p> + +<p>"So," Goldstein declared, "you made a verbal agreement before +September thirtieth for a lease of one year from October first?"</p> + +<p>Kovner nodded and Goldstein turned to Henry D. Feldman, whose +lofty smile had completely disappeared.</p> + +<p>"Well, Feldman," he said, "you pulled a couple of objections on +me from 'way back in the last century, understand me; so I guess +it won't hurt if I remind you of a little statute passed in the +reign of Charles the Second, which says: 'All contracts which by +their terms are not to be performed within one year must be in +writing and signed by the party to be charged.' I mean the +Statute of Frauds."</p> + +<p>"I know what you mean all right," Feldman replied; "but you'll +have to prove that before a court and jury. Just now we are +confronted with Kovner, who claims to have a year's lease; and my +client is relieved from his purchase in the circumstances. No man +is bound to buy a lawsuit, Goldstein."</p> + +<p>"I know he ain't," Goldstein retorted; "but what's the +difference, Feldman? He'll have a law<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>suit on his hands, anyhow, +because if he don't take title now, understand me, I'll bring an +action to compel him to do so this very afternoon."</p> + +<p>At this juncture a faint croaking came from the vicinity of Louis +Stout, who throughout had been as appreciative a listener as +though he were occupying an orchestra chair and had bought his +seat from a speculator.</p> + +<p>"Speak up, Mr. Stout!" Feldman cried.</p> + +<p>"I was saying," Louis replied faintly, "that with my own ears I +heard Glaubmann say to Kovner that he's got a verbal lease for +one year."</p> + +<p>"And when was this?" Feldman asked.</p> + +<p>"About three weeks ago," Stout replied.</p> + +<p>"Then, in that case, Mr. Goldstein," Feldman declared, "let me +present to you another proposition of law."</p> + +<p>He paused to formulate a sufficiently impressive "offer" as the +lawyers say, and in the silence that followed Elkan shuffled to +his feet.</p> + +<p>"It ain't necessary, Mr. Feldman," he said. "I already made up my +mind about it."</p> + +<p>"About what?" Louis Stout exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"About taking the house," Elkan replied. "If you'll let me have +the figures, Mr. Feldman, I'll draw a check and have it certified +and we'll close this thing up."</p> + +<p>"<i>Aber</i>, Elkan," Louis cried, "first let me communicate with +Flugel."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span>"That ain't necessary neither," Elkan retorted. "I'm going to +make an end right here and now; and you should be so good, Mr. +Feldman, and fix me up the statement of what I owe here. I want +to get through."</p> + +<p>Polatkin rose shakily to his feet.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Elkan?" he said huskily. "Are you crazy, +<i>oder</i> what?"</p> + +<p>"Sit down, Mr. Polatkin," Elkan commanded, and there was a ring +of authority in his tone that made Polatkin collapse into his +chair. "I am buying this house."</p> + +<p>"But, Elkan," Louis Stout implored, "why don't you let me talk to +Flugel over the 'phone? Might he would got a suggestion to make +maybe."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Elkan said. "The only suggestion he makes is +that if I go to work and close this contract, y'understand, he +would never buy another dollar's worth of goods from us so long +as he lives. So you shouldn't bother to ring him up, Mr. Stout."</p> + +<p>Louis Stout flushed angrily.</p> + +<p>"So far as that goes, Lubliner," he says, "I don't got to ring up +Mr. Flugel to tell you the same thing, so you know what you could +do."</p> + +<p>"Sure I know what I could do," Elkan continued. "I could either +do business like a business man or do business like a muzhik, Mr. +Stout. <i>Aber</i> this ain't <i>Russland</i>, Mr. Stout—this is Amer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>ica; +and if I got to run round wiping people's shoes to sell goods, +then I don't want to do it at all."</p> + +<p>J. Kamin took a cigar out of his mouth and spat vigorously.</p> + +<p>"You're dead right, Elkan," he said. "Go ahead and close the +contract and I assure you you wouldn't regret it."</p> + +<p>Elkan's eyes blazed and he turned on Kamin.</p> + +<p>"You assure me!" he said. "Who in thunder are you? Do you think +I'm looking for your business now, Kamin? Why, if you was worth +your salt as a merchant, understand me, instead you would be +fooling away your time trying to make a share of a commission, +which the most you would get out of it is a hundred dollars, +y'understand, you would be attending to your business buying your +spring line. You are wasting two whole days on this deal, Kamin; +and if two business days out of your spring buying is only worth +a hundred dollars to you, Kamin, go ahead and get your goods +somewheres else than in our store. I don't need to be Dun or +Bradstreet to get a line on you, Kamin—and don't you forget it!"</p> + +<p>At this juncture a faint cough localized Joel Ribnik, who had +remained with Julius Tarnowitz in the obscurity cast by several +bound volumes of digests and reports.</p> + +<p>"Seemingly, Mr. Polatkin," he said, "you are a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> millionaire +concern, the way your partner talks! Might you don't need our +business, neither, maybe?"</p> + +<p>Polatkin was busy checking the ravages made upon his linen by the +perspiration that literally streamed down his face and neck; but +Scheikowitz, who had listened open-mouthed to Elkan's +pronunciamento, straightened up in his chair and his face grew +set with determination.</p> + +<p>"We ain't millionaires, Mr. Ribnik," he said—"far from it; and +we ain't never going to be, understand me, if we got to buy +eighteen-thousand dollar houses for every bill of goods we sell +to <i>Schnorrers</i> and deadbeats!"</p> + +<p>"Scheikowitz!" Polatkin pleaded.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Polatkin," Scheikowitz declared. "The boy is right, +Polatkin; and if we are making our living in America we got to +act like Americans—not peasants. So, go ahead, Stout. Telephone +Flugel and tell him from me that if he wants to take it that way +he should do so; and you, too, Stout—and that's all there is to +it!"</p> + +<p>"Then I apprehend, gentlemen, that we had better proceed to +close," Feldman said; and Elkan nodded, for as Scheikowitz +finished speaking a ball had risen in Elkan's throat which, blink +as he might, he could not down for some minutes.</p> + +<p>"All right, Goldstein," Feldman continued. "Let's fix up the +statement of closing."</p> + +<p>"One moment, gentlemen," Max Kovner said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> "Do I understand that, +if Elkan Lubliner buys the house to-day, we've got to move out?"</p> + +<p>Feldman raised his eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"I think Mr. Goldstein will agree with me, Kovner, when I say you +haven't a leg to stand on," he declared. "You're completely out +of court on your own testimony."</p> + +<p>"You mean we ain't got a lease for a year?" Mrs. Kovner asked.</p> + +<p>"That's right," Goldstein replied.</p> + +<p>"And I am working my fingers to the bone getting rid of them +<i>verfluchte</i> painters and all!" she wailed. "What do you think I +am anyway?"</p> + +<p>"Well, if you don't want to move right away," Elkan began, "when +would it be convenient for you to get out, Mrs. Kovner?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want to get out at all," she whimpered. "Why should I +want to get out? The house is an elegant house, which I just +planted yesterday string beans and tomatoes; and the parlor looks +elegant now we got the old paper off."</p> + +<p>"Supposing we say the first of May," Elkan suggested—"not that I +am so crazy to move out to Burgess Park, y'understand; but I +don't see what is the sense buying a house in the country and +then not living in it."</p> + +<p>There was a brief silence, broken only by the soft weeping of +Mrs. Kovner; and at length Max Kovner shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span>"<i>Nu</i>, Elkan," he said, "what is the use beating bushes round? +Mrs. Kovner is stuck on the house and so am I. So long as you +don't want the house, and there's been so much trouble about it +and all, I tell you what I'll do: Take back two thousand dollars +a second mortgage on the house, payable in one year at six per +cent., which it is so good as gold, understand me, and I'll +relieve you of your contract and give you two hundred dollars to +boot."</p> + +<p>A smile spread slowly over Elkan's face as he looked +significantly at Louis Stout.</p> + +<p>"I don't want your two hundred dollars, Max," he said. "You can +have the house and welcome; and you should use the two hundred to +pay your painting and plumbing bills."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Louis Stout said; "there is people which will +see to it that he does. Also, gentlemen, I want everybody to +understand that I claim full commission here from Glaubmann as +the only broker in the transaction!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>, gentlemen," Glaubmann said; "I'll leave this to the +lawyers if it ain't so: From one transaction I can only be liable +for one commission—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Feldman and Goldstein nodded in unison.</p> + +<p>"Then all I could say is that yous brokers and drygoods merchants +should fight it out between yourselves," he declared; "because +I'm going to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> pay the money for the commission into court—and +them which is entitled to it can have it."</p> + +<p>"But ain't you going to protect me, Glaubmann?" Ortelsburg +demanded.</p> + +<p>Glaubmann raised his hand for silence.</p> + +<p>"One moment, Ortelsburg," he said. "I think it was you and Kamin +told me that real estate is a game the same like auction +pinocle?"</p> + +<p>Ortelsburg nodded sulkily.</p> + +<p>"Then you fellers should go ahead and play it," Glaubmann +concluded. "And might the best man win!"<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> In the face of numerous decisions to the contrary, +the author holds for the purposes of this story that a verbal +lease for one year, to commence in the future, is void.</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SIX" id="CHAPTER_SIX"></a>CHAPTER SIX</h2> +<h2>A TALE OF TWO JACOBEAN CHAIRS</h2> +<h3>NOT A DETECTIVE STORY</h3> +</div> + +<p class="dropcap">"YES, Mr. Lubliner," said Max Merech as he sat in the front +parlour of Elkan's flat one April Sunday; "if you are going to +work to buy furniture, understand me, it's just so easy to select +good-looking chairs as bad-looking chairs."</p> + +<p>"<i>Aber</i> sometimes it's a whole lot harder to sit on 'em +comfortably," Elkan retorted sourly. On the eve of moving to a +larger apartment he and Yetta had invited Max to suggest a plan +for furnishing and decorating their new dwelling; and it seemed +to Elkan that Max had taken undue advantage of the privilege thus +accorded him. Indeed, Polatkin, Scheikowitz & Company's æsthetic +designer held such pronounced views on interior decoration, and +had expressed them so freely to Elkan and Yetta, that after the +first half-hour of his visit the esteem which they had always +felt toward their plush furniture and Wilton rugs had +changed—first to indifference and then, in the case of Yetta, at +least, to loathing.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>"I always told you that the couch over there was hideous, Elkan," +Yetta said.</p> + +<p>"Hideous it ain't," Max interrupted; "<i>aber</i> it ain't so +beautiful."</p> + +<p>"Well, stick the couch in the bedroom, then," Elkan said. "It +makes no difference to me."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Yetta exclaimed: "but what would we put in its +place?"</p> + +<p>Elkan shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"What d'ye ask me for?" Elkan cried. "Like as not I'd say another +couch."</p> + +<p>"There is couches and couches," Max said with an apologetic +smile, "but if you would ask my advice I would say why not a +couple nice chairs there—something in monhogany, like +Shippendaler <i>oder</i> Sheratin."</p> + +<p>Suddenly he slapped his thigh in an access of inspiration.</p> + +<p>"I came pretty near forgetting!" he cried. "I got the very thing +you want—and a big bargain too! Do you know Louis Dishkes, which +runs the Villy dee Paris Store in Amsterdam Avenue?"</p> + +<p>"I think I know him," Elkan said with ironic emphasis. "He owes +us four hundred dollars for two months already."</p> + +<p>"Well, Dishkes is got a brother-in-law by the name Ringentaub, on +Allen Street, which he is a dealer in antics."</p> + +<p>"Antics?" Elkan exclaimed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>"Sure!" Max explained. "Antics—old furniture and old silver."</p> + +<p>"You mean a second-hand store?" Elkan suggested.</p> + +<p>"Not a second-hand store," Max declared. "A second-hand store is +got old furniture from two years old <i>oder</i> ten years old, +understand me; <i>aber</i> an antic store carries old furniture from a +hundred years old already."</p> + +<p>"And this here Ringentaub is got furniture from a hundred years +old already?" Elkan cried.</p> + +<p>"From older even," answered Max; "from two hundred and fifty +years old also."</p> + +<p>"<i>Ich glaub's!</i>" Elkan cried.</p> + +<p>"You can believe it <i>oder</i> not, Mr. Lubliner," Max continued; +"but Ringentaub got in his store a couple Jacobean chairs, which +they are two hundred and fifty years old already. And them chairs +you could buy at a big sacrifice yet."</p> + +<p>Elkan and Yetta exchanged puzzled glances, and Elkan even tapped +his forehead significantly.</p> + +<p>"They was part of a whole set," Max went on, not noticing his +employer's gesture; "the others Ringentaub sold to a collector."</p> + +<p>Elkan flipped his right hand.</p> + +<p>"A collector is something else again," he said; "but me I ain't +no collector, Max, <i>Gott sei Dank</i>! I got my own business, Max, +and I ain't got to buy from two hundred and fifty years old +furniture."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>"Why not?" Max asked. "B. Gans is got his own business, too, Mr. +Lubliner, and a good business also; and he buys yet from +Ringentaub—only last week already—an angry cat cabinet which it +is three hundred years old already."</p> + +<p>"An angry cat cabinet?" Elkan exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"That's what I said," Max continued; "'angry' is French for +'Henry' and 'cat' is French for 'fourth'; so this here cabinet +was made three hundred years ago when Henry the Fourth was king +of France—and B. Gans buys it last week already for five hundred +dollars!"</p> + +<p>Therewith Max commenced a half-hour dissertation upon antique +furniture which left Yetta and Elkan more undecided than ever.</p> + +<p>"And you are telling me that big people like B. Gans and Andrew +Carnegie buys this here antics for their houses?" Elkan asked.</p> + +<p>"J. P. Morgan also," Max replied. "And them Jacobean chairs there +you could get for fifty dollars already."</p> + +<p>"Well, it wouldn't do no harm supposing we would go down and see +'em," Yetta suggested.</p> + +<p>"Some night next week," Elkan added, "<i>oder</i> the week after."</p> + +<p>"For that matter, we could go to-night too," Max rejoined. +"Sunday is like any other night down on Allen Street, and you got +to remember that Jacobean chairs is something which you couldn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +get whenever you want 'em. Let me tell you just what they look +like."</p> + +<p>Here he descanted so successfully on the beauty of Jacobean +furniture that Yetta added her persuasion to his, and Elkan at +length surrendered.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said. "First we would have a little something to +eat and then we would go down there."</p> + +<p>Hence, a few minutes after eight that evening they alighted at +the Spring Street subway station; and Max Merech piloted Elkan +and Yetta beneath elevated railroads and past the windows of +brass shops, with their gleaming show of candlesticks and +samovars, to a little basement store near the corner of Rivington +Street.</p> + +<p>"It don't look like much," Max apologized as he descended the few +steps leading to the entrance; "<i>aber</i> he's got an elegant stock +inside."</p> + +<p>When he opened the door a trigger affixed to the door knocked +against a rusty bell, but no one responded. Instead, from behind +a partition in the rear came sounds of an angry dispute; and as +Elkan closed the door behind him one of the voices rose higher +than the rest.</p> + +<p>"Take my life—take my blood, Mr. Sammet!" it said; "because I am +making you the best proposition I can, and that's all there is to +it."</p> + +<p>Max was about to stamp his foot when Elkan laid a restraining +hand on his shoulder; and, in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> pause that followed, the +heavy, almost hysterical breathing of the last speaker could be +heard in the front of the store.</p> + +<p>"I don't want your life <i>oder</i> your blood, Dishkes," came the +answer in bass tones, which Elkan recognized as the voice of his +competitor, Leon Sammet. "I am your heaviest creditor, and all I +want is that you should protect me."</p> + +<p>"I know you are my heaviest creditor," Louis Dishkes replied. "To +my sorrow I know it! If it wouldn't be for your rotten stickers +which I got in my place, might I would be doing a good business +there to-day, maybe!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Schmooes</i>, Dishkes!" Sammet replied. "The reason you didn't +done a good business there is that you ain't no business man, +Dishkes—and anyhow, Dishkes, it don't do no good you should +insult me!"</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean insult you?" Dishkes cried angrily. "I ain't +insulting you, Sammet. You are insulting me. You want me I should +protect you and let my other creditors go to the devil—ain't it? +What d'ye take me for—a crook?"</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Sammet declared. "I wouldn't dandy words with +you, Dishkes. For the last time I am asking you: Will you take +advantage of the offer I am getting for you from the Mercantile +Outlet Company, of Nashville, for your entire stock? Otherwise I +would got nothing more to say to you."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>There was a sound of scuffling feet as the party in the rear of +the store rose from their chairs.</p> + +<p>"You ain't got no need to say nothing more to me, Mr. Sammet," +Dishkes announced firmly, "because I am through with you, Mr. +Sammet. Your account ain't due till to-morrow, and you couldn't +do nothing till Tuesday. Ain't it? So Tuesday morning early you +should go ahead and sue me, and if I couldn't raise money to save +myself I will go <i>mechullah</i>; but it'll be an honest <i>mechullah</i>, +and that's all there is to it."</p> + +<p>As Dishkes finished speaking Elkan drew Max and Yetta into the +shadow cast by a tall highboy; and, without noticing their +presence, Leon Sammet plunged toward the door and let himself out +into the street.</p> + +<p>Immediately Elkan tiptoed to the door and threw it wide open, +after which he shuffled his feet with sufficient noise to account +for the entrance of three people. Thereat Ringentaub emerged from +behind the partition.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Ringentaub," Max cried. "I am bringing you here some +customers."</p> + +<p>Ringentaub bowed and coughed a warning to Dishkes and Mrs. +Ringentaub, who continued to talk in hoarse whispers behind the +partition.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Ringentaub?" Max Merech asked; "couldn't you +afford it here somehow a little light?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>Ringentaub reached into the upper darkness and turned on a gas +jet which had been burning a blue point of flame.</p> + +<p>"I keep it without light here on purpose," he said, "on account +Sundays is a big night for the candlestick fakers up the street +and I don't want to be bothered with their trade. What could I +show your friends, Mr. Merech?"</p> + +<p>Max winked almost imperceptibly at Elkan and prepared to approach +the subject of the Jacobean chairs by a judicious detour.</p> + +<p>"Do you got maybe a couple Florentine frames, Ringentaub?" he +asked; and Ringentaub shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Florentine frames is hard to find nowadays, Mr. Merech," he +said; "and I guess I told it you Friday that I ain't got none."</p> + +<p>Elkan shrugged his shoulders and smiled.</p> + +<p>"I thought might you would of picked up a couple since then, +maybe," Max rejoined, glancing round him. "You got a pretty nice +highboy over there, Ringentaub, for a reproduction."</p> + +<p>Ringentaub nodded satirically.</p> + +<p>"That only goes to show how much you know about such things, Mr. +Merech," he retorted, "when you are calling reproductions +something which it is a gen-wine Shippendaler, understand me, in +elegant condition."</p> + +<p>It was now Elkan's turn to nod, and he did so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> with just the +right degree of skepticism as at last he broached the object of +his visit.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," he said, "that them chairs over there is also +gen-wine Jacobean chairs?"</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>"I'll tell you what I'll do with you, Mr. Merech," Ringentaub +declared. "You could bring down here any of them good Fourth +Avenue or Fifth Avenue dealers, understand me, or any conoozer +you want to name, like Jacob Paul, <i>oder</i> anybody, y'understand; +and if they would say them chairs ain't gen-wine Jacobean I'll +make 'em a present to you free for nothing."</p> + +<p>"I ain't <i>schnorring</i> for no presents, Mr. Ringentaub," Max +declared. "Bring 'em out in the light and let's give a look at +'em."</p> + +<p>Ringentaub drew the chairs into the centre of the floor, and +placing them beneath the gas jet he stepped backward and tilted +his head to one side in silent admiration.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>, Mr. Merech," he said at last, "am I right or am I wrong? +Is the chairs gen-wine <i>oder</i> not? I leave it to your friends +here."</p> + +<p>Max turned to Elkan, who had been edging away toward the +partition, from which came scraps of conversation between Dishkes +and Mrs. Ringentaub.</p> + +<p>"What do you think, Mr. Lubliner?" Max asked; and Elkan frowned +his annoyance at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> interruption, for he had just begun to +catch a few words of the conversation in the rear room.</p> + +<p>"Sure—sure!" he said absently. "I leave it to you and Mrs. +Lubliner."</p> + +<p>Yetta's face had fallen as she viewed the apparently decayed and +rickety furniture.</p> + +<p>"Ain't they terrible shabby-looking!" she murmured, and +Ringentaub shrugged his shoulders and smiled.</p> + +<p>"You would look shabby, too, lady," he said, "if you would be two +hundred and fifty years old; <i>aber</i> if you want to see what they +look like after they are restored, y'understand, I got back there +one of the rest of the set which I already sold to Mr. Paul; and +I am fixing it up for him."</p> + +<p>As he finished speaking he walked to the rear and dragged forward +a reseated and polished duplicate of the two chairs.</p> + +<p>"I dassent restore 'em before I sell 'em," Ringentaub explained; +"otherwise no one believes they are gen-wine."</p> + +<p>"And how much do you say you want for them chairs, Ringentaub?" +Max asked.</p> + +<p>"I didn't say I wanted nothing," Ringentaub replied. "The fact +is, I don't know whether I want to keep them chairs <i>oder</i> not. +You see, Mr. Merech, Jacobean chairs is pretty near so rare +nowadays that it would pay me to wait a while. In a couple of +years them chairs double in value already."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>"Sure, I know," Max said. "You could say the same thing about +your whole stock, Ringentaub; and so, if I would be you, +Ringentaub, I would take a little vacation of a couple years or +so. Go round the world <i>mit</i> Mrs. Ringentaub, understand me, and +by the time you come back you are worth twicet as much as you got +to-day; but just to help pay your rent while you are away, Mr. +Ringentaub, I'll make you an offer of thirty-five dollars for the +chairs."</p> + +<p>Ringentaub seized a chair in each hand and dragged them noisily +to one side.</p> + +<p>"As I was saying," he announced, "I ain't got no Florentine +frames, Mr. Merech; so I am sorry we couldn't do no business."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, thirty-seven-fifty, Mr. Ringentaub," Max continued; +and Ringentaub made a flapping gesture with both hands.</p> + +<p>"Say, lookyhere," he growled, "what is the use talking nonsense, +Mr. Merech? For ten dollars apiece you could get on Twenty-third +Street a couple chairs, understand me, made in some big factory, +y'understand—A-Number-One pieces of furniture—which would suit +you a whole lot better as gen-wine pieces. These here chairs is +for conoozers, Mr. Merech; so, if you want any shiny candlesticks +<i>oder</i> Moskva samovars from brass-spinners on Center Street, +y'understand, a couple doors uptown you would find plenty fakers. +<i>Aber</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> here is all gen-wine stuff, y'understand; and for +gen-wine stuff you got to pay full price, understand me, which if +them chairs stays in my store till they are five hundred years +old already I wouldn't take a cent less for 'em as fifty +dollars."</p> + +<p>Max turned inquiringly to Mrs. Lubliner; and, during the short +pause that followed, the agonized voice of Louis Dishkes came +once more from the back room.</p> + +<p>"What could I do?" he said to Mrs. Ringentaub. "I want to be +square <i>mit</i> everybody, and I must got to act quick on account +that sucker Sammet will close me up sure."</p> + +<p>"<i>Ai, tzuris!</i>" Mrs. Ringentaub moaned; at which her husband +coughed noisily and Elkan moved nearer to the partition.</p> + +<p>"Would you go as high as fifty dollars, Mrs. Lubliner?" Max +asked, and Yetta nodded.</p> + +<p>"All right, Mr. Ringentaub," Max concluded; "we'll take 'em at +fifty dollars."</p> + +<p>"And you wouldn't regret it neither," Ringentaub replied. "I'll +make you out a bill right away."</p> + +<p>He darted into the rear room and slammed the partition door +behind him.</p> + +<p>"<i>Koosh</i>, Dishkes!" he hissed. "Ain't you got no sense at +all—blabbing out your business in front of all them strangers?"</p> + +<p>It was at this juncture that Elkan rapped on the door.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>"Excuse me, Mr. Ringentaub," he said, "but I ain't no stranger to +Mr. Dishkes—not by four hundred dollars already."</p> + +<p>He opened the door as he spoke, and Dishkes, who was sitting at a +table with his head bowed on his hands, looked up mournfully.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>, Mr. Lubliner!" he said. "You are after me, too, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Elkan shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Not only I ain't after you, Dishkes," he said, "but I didn't +even know you was in trouble until just now."</p> + +<p>"And you never would of known," Ringentaub added, "if he ain't +been such a <i>dummer Ochs</i> and listened to people's advice. He got +a good chance to sell out, and he wouldn't took it."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Elkan said, "to an auction house; the idee being +to run away <i>mit</i> the proceeds and leave his creditors in the +lurches!"</p> + +<p>Dishkes again buried his head in his hands, while Ringentaub +blushed guiltily.</p> + +<p>"That may be all right in the antic business, Mr. Ringentaub," +Elkan went on, "but in the garment business we ain't two hundred +and fifty years behind the times exactly. We got associations of +manufacturers and we got good lawyers, too, understand me; and we +get right after crooks like Sammet, just the same as some of us +helps out retailers that want to be decent, like Dishkes here."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>Louis Dishkes raised his head suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Then you heard the whole thing?" he cried; and Elkan nodded.</p> + +<p>"I heard enough, Dishkes," he said; "and if you want my help you +could come down to my place to-morrow morning at ten o'clock."</p> + +<p>At this juncture the triggered bell rang loudly, and raising his +hand for silence Ringentaub returned to the store.</p> + +<p>"Why, how do you do, Mr. Paul!" he said.</p> + +<p>He addressed a broad-shouldered figure arrayed in the height of +Canal Street fashion.</p> + +<p>Aside from his clothing, however, there was little to betray the +connoisseur of fine arts and antiques in the person of Jacob +Paul, who possessed the brisk, businesslike manner and steel-blue +eyes of a detective sergeant.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Ringentaub!" he said. "You are doing a rushing business +here—ain't it? More customers in the back room too?"</p> + +<p>He glanced sharply at the open doorway in the partition, through +which Elkan and Dishkes could be seen engaged in earnest +conversation.</p> + +<p>"<i>Yow</i>—customers!" Ringentaub exclaimed. "You know how it is in +the antic business, Mr. Paul. For a hundred that looks, +understand me, one buys; and that one, Mr. Paul, he comes into +your place a dozen times before he makes up his mind yet."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>"Well," Paul said with a smile, "I've made up my mind at last, +Ringentaub, and I'll take them other two chairs at forty-five +dollars."</p> + +<p>Ringentaub nodded his head slowly.</p> + +<p>"I thought you would, Mr. Paul," he said; "but just the same you +are a little late, on account this here gentleman already bought +'em for fifty dollars."</p> + +<p>A shade of disappointment passed over Paul's face as he turned to +Max Merech.</p> + +<p>"I congratulate you, Mister——"</p> + +<p>"Merech," Max suggested.</p> + +<p>"Merech," Paul continued. "You paid a high price for a couple of +good pieces."</p> + +<p>"I ain't paying nothing," Max replied. "I bought 'em for this +lady here and her husband."</p> + +<p>It was then that Jacob Paul for the first time noticed Yetta's +presence, and he bowed apologetically.</p> + +<p>"Is he also a collector?" he asked, and Max shook his head.</p> + +<p>"He's in the garment business," Yetta volunteered, "for himself."</p> + +<p>A puzzled expression wrinkled Paul's flat nose.</p> + +<p>"I guess I ain't caught the name," he said.</p> + +<p>"Lubliner," Yetta replied; "Elkan Lubliner, of Polatkin, +Scheikowitz & Company."</p> + +<p>"You don't tell me?" Jacob Paul said. "And so Mr. Lubliner is +interested in antiques. That's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> quite a jump, from cloaks and +suits to antiques already."</p> + +<p>"Well," Merech explained, "Mr. Lubliner is refurnishing his +house."</p> + +<p>"Maybe," Elkan added as he appeared in the doorway of the +partition, followed by Dishkes and Mrs. Ringentaub. "Buying a +couple pieces of furniture is one thing, Merech, and refurnishing +your house is another."</p> + +<p>"You made a good start anyhow," Paul interrupted. "A couple +chairs like them gives a tone to a room which is got crayon +portraits hanging in it even."</p> + +<p>Yetta blushed in the consciousness of what she had always +considered to be a fine likeness of Elkan's grandfather—the +Lubliner <i>Rav</i>—which hung in a silver-and-plush frame over the +mantelpiece of the Lubliner front parlour. Elkan was unashamed, +however, and he glared angrily at the connoisseur, who had +started to leave the store.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," he cried, "it ain't up to date that a feller should +have hanging in his flat a portrait of his grandfather—<i>olav +hasholem!</i>—which he was a learned man and a <i>Tzadek</i>, if there +ever was one."</p> + +<p>Paul hesitated, with his hand on the doorknob.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you, Mr. Lubliner," he said solemnly; "to me a crayon +portrait is rotten, understand me, if it would be of a <i>Tzadek +oder</i> a murderer."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>And with a final bow to Mrs. Lubliner he banged the door behind +him.</p> + +<p>"Well, what d'ye think for a <i>Rosher</i> like that?" Elkan +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"The fellow is disappointed that you got ahead of him buying the +chairs, Mr. Lubliner," Ringentaub explained; "so he takes a +chance that you and Mrs. Lubliner is that kind of people which is +got hanging in the parlour crayon portraits, understand me, and +he knocks you for it."</p> + +<p>Elkan shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"What could you expect from a feller which is content at fifty +years of age to be a collector only?" he asked, and Dishkes +nodded sympathetically.</p> + +<p>"I bet yer, Mr. Lubliner," he agreed; "and so I would be at your +store to-morrow morning at ten o'clock sure."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>"I don't doubt your word for a minute, Elkan," Marcus Polatkin +said the following morning when Elkan related to him the events +of the preceding night; "<i>aber</i> you couldn't blame Sammet none. +Concerns like Sammet Brothers, which they are such dirty crooks +that everybody is got suspicions of 'em, y'understand, must got +to pay their bills prompt to the day, Elkan; because if they +wouldn't be themselves good collectors, understand me, they would +bust up quick."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>"Sammet Brothers ain't in no danger of busting up," Elkan +declared.</p> + +<p>"Ain't they?" Marcus rejoined. "Well, you would be surprised, +Elkan, if I would tell you that only yesterday already I am +speaking to a feller by the name Hirsch, which works for years by +the Hamsuckett Mills as city salesman, understand me, and he says +that the least Sammet Brothers owes them people is ten thousand +dollars."</p> + +<p>"That shows what a big business they must do," Elkan said.</p> + +<p>"<i>Yow</i>—a big business!" Marcus concluded. "This here Hirsch says +not only Sammet Brothers' business falls off something terrible, +y'understand, but they are also getting to be pretty slow pay; +and if it wouldn't be that the Hamsuckett people is helping 'em +along, <i>verstehst du</i>, they would of gone up <i>schon</i> long since +already."</p> + +<p>"And a good job too," Elkan said. "The cloak-and-suit trade could +worry along without 'em, Mr. Polatkin; but anyhow, Mr. Polatkin, +I ain't concerned with Sammet Brothers. The point is this: +Dishkes says he has got a good stand there on Amsterdam Avenue, +and if he could only hold on a couple months longer he wouldn't +got no difficulty in pulling through."</p> + +<p>Polatkin shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"For my part," he said, "it wouldn't make no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> difference if +Dishkes busts up now <i>oder</i> two months from now."</p> + +<p>"But the way he tells me yesterday," Elkan replied, "not only he +wouldn't got to bust up on us if he gets his two months' +extension, but he says he would be doing a good business at that +time."</p> + +<p>Polatkin nodded skeptically.</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know, Elkan," he said. "If everybody which is asking an +extension would do the business they hope to do before the +extension is up, Elkan," he said, "all the prompt-pay fellows +must got to close up shop on account there wouldn't be enough +business to go round."</p> + +<p>"Well, anyhow," Elkan rejoined, "he's coming here to see us this +morning, Mr. Polatkin, and he could show you how he figures it +that he's got hopes to pull through."</p> + +<p>Polatkin made a deprecatory gesture with his hand.</p> + +<p>"If a feller is going to bust up on me, Elkan, I'd just as lief +he ain't got no hopes at all," he grumbled; "otherwise he wastes +your whole day on you figuring out his next season's profits if +he can only stall off his creditors. With such a hoping feller, +if you don't want to be out time as well as money, understand me, +you should quick file a petition in bankruptcy against him; +otherwise he wouldn't give you no peace at all."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, when Dishkes arrived, half an hour<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> later, Polatkin +ushered him into the firm's office and summoned Scheikowitz and +Elkan to the conference.</p> + +<p>"Well, Dishkes," he said in kindly accents, "you are up against +it."</p> + +<p>Dishkes nodded. He was by no means of a robust physical type, and +his hands trembled so nervously as he fumbled for his papers in +his breast pocket that he dropped its contents on the office +floor. Elkan stooped to assist in retrieving the scattered +papers, and among the documents he gathered together was a +cabinet photograph.</p> + +<p>"My wife!" Dishkes murmured hoarsely. "She ain't so strong, and I +am sending her up to the country a couple months ago. I've been +meaning I should go up and see her ever since, but——"</p> + +<p>Here he gulped dismally; and there was an embarrassed silence, +broken only by the faint noise occasioned by Philip Scheikowitz +scratching his chin.</p> + +<p>"That's a <i>Rosher</i>—that feller Sammet," Polatkin said at length. +"Honestly, the way some business men ain't got no mercy at all +for the other feller, you would think, Scheikowitz, they was +living back in the old country yet!"</p> + +<p>Scheikowitz nodded and glanced nervously from the photograph to +Elkan.</p> + +<p>"I think you was telling me you got a couple idees about helping +Dishkes out, Elkan," he said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> "So, in the first place, Dishkes, +you should please let us see a list of your creditors."</p> + +<p>With this prelude Scheikowitz drew forward his chair and plunged +into a discussion of Dishkes' affairs that lasted for more than +two hours; and when Dishkes at length departed he took with him +notices of a meeting addressed to his twenty creditors, prepared +for immediate mailing by Polatkin, Scheikowitz & Company's +stenographer.</p> + +<p>"And that's what we let ourselves in for," Scheikowitz declared +after the elevator door had closed behind Dishkes. "To-morrow +morning at eleven o'clock the place here would look like the +waiting room of a depot, and all our competitors would be +rubbering at our stock already."</p> + +<p>"Let 'em rubber!" Elkan said. "If I don't get an extension for +that feller my name ain't Elkan Lubliner at all; because between +now and then I am going round to see them twenty creditors, and I +bet yer they will sign an extension agreement, with the figures I +am going to put up to them!"</p> + +<p>"Figures!" Scheikowitz jeered. "What good is figures to them +fellers? Showing figures to a bankrupt's creditors is like taking +to a restaurant a feller which is hungry and letting him look at +the knives and forks and plates, understand me!"</p> + +<p>Elkan nodded.</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," he said; "but the figures ain't all."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span>Surreptitiously he drew from his pocket a faded cabinet +photograph.</p> + +<p>"I sneaked this away from Dishkes when he wasn't noticing," Elkan +declared; "and if this don't fix 'em nothing will!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>"Say, lookyhere, Lubliner," Leon Sammet cried after Elkan had +broached the reason for his visit late that afternoon, "don't +give me that tale of woe again. Every time we are asking Dishkes +for money he pulls this here sick-wife story on us, understand +me; and it don't go down with me no more."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean don't go down with you?" Elkan demanded. "Do you +claim his wife ain't sick?"</p> + +<p>"I don't claim nothing," Sammet retorted. "I ain't no doctor, +Lubliner. I am in the cloak-and-suit business, and I got to pay +my creditors with United States money, Lubliner, if my wife would +be dying yet."</p> + +<p>"Which you ain't got no wife," Elkan added savagely.</p> + +<p>"<i>Gott sei Dank!</i>" Sammet rejoined. "<i>Aber</i> if I did got one, +y'understand, I would got <i>Verstand</i> enough to pick out a healthy +woman, which Dishkes does everything the same. He picks out a +store there on an avenue when it is a dead neighbourhood, +understand me—and he wants us we should suffer for it."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>"The neighbourhood wouldn't be dead after three months," Elkan +said. "Round the corner on both sides of the street is building +thirty-three-foot, seven-story elevator apartments yet; and when +they are occupied, Dishkes would do a rushing business."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Sammet answered. "I ain't speculating in +real-estate futures, Lubliner; so you might just so well go ahead +and attend to your business, Lubliner, because me I am going to +do the same."</p> + +<p>"But lookyhere, Sammet," Elkan still pleaded. "I seen pretty near +every one of Dishkes' creditors and they all agree the feller +should have a three months' extension."</p> + +<p>"Let 'em agree," Sammet shouted. "They are their own bosses and +so am I, Lubliner; so if they want to give him an extension of +their account I ain't got nothing to say. All I want is eight +hundred dollars he owes me; and the rest of them suckers could +agree till they are black in the face."</p> + +<p>"<i>Aber</i>, anyhow, Sammet," Elkan said, "come to the meeting +to-morrow morning and we would see what we could do."</p> + +<p>"See what we could do!" Sammet bellowed. "You will see what I +could do, Lubliner; and I will come to the meeting to-morrow and +I'll do it too. So, if you don't mind, Lubliner, I could still do +a little work before we close up here."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span>For a brief interval Elkan dug his nails into the palms of his +hands, and his eyes unconsciously sought a target for a right +swing on Sammet's bloated face; but at length he nodded and +forced himself to smile.</p> + +<p>"<i>Schon gut</i>, Mr. Sammet," he said; "then I will see you +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>A moment later he strode down lower Fifth Avenue toward the place +of business of the last creditor on Dishkes' list. This was none +other than Elkan's distinguished friend, B. Gans, the +manufacturer of highgrade dresses; and it required less than ten +minutes to procure his consent to the proposed extension.</p> + +<p>"And I hope," Elkan said, "that we could count on you to be at +the meeting to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"That's something I couldn't do," B. Gans replied; "but I'll +write you a letter and give you full authority you should +represent me there. Excuse me a minute and I'll dictate it to +Miss Scheindler." When he returned, five minutes later, he sat +down at his desk and, crossing his legs, prepared to beguile the +tedium of waiting.</p> + +<p>"Well, Elkan," he said, "what you been doing with yourself +lately? Thee-aytres and restaurants, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Thee-aytres I ain't so much interested in no more," Elkan said. +"The fact is, I am going in now for antics."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span>"Antics!" B. Gans exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Sure," Elkan replied; and there was a certain pride in his +tones. "Antics is what I said, Mr. Gans—Jacobson chairs and +them—now—cat's furniture."</p> + +<p>"Cat's furniture?" Gans repeated. "What d'ye mean cat's +furniture?"</p> + +<p>"Angry cats," Elkan explained; and then a great light broke upon +B. Gans.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he exclaimed. "You mean Henri Quatre furniture?"</p> + +<p>"Hungry cat <i>oder</i> angry cat," Elkan said. "All I know is we are +refurnishing our flat, Mr. Gans, and we are taking an advice from +Max Merech, our designer. It's a funny thing about that feller, +Mr. Gans—with garments he is right up to the minute, <i>aber mit</i> +furniture nothing suits him unless it would be anyhow a hundred +years old."</p> + +<p>"So you are buying some antique furniture for your flat?" B. Gans +commented, and Elkan nodded.</p> + +<p>"We made a start anyhow," he said. "We bought a couple Jacobson +chairs—two hundred and fifty years old already."</p> + +<p>"Good!" B. Gans exclaimed. "I want to tell you, Elkan, you +couldn't go far wrong if you would buy any piece of furniture +over a hundred years old. They didn't know how to make things +ugly in them days—and Jacobean chairs especially. I am +furnishing my whole dining room in that period and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> my library in +Old French. It costs money, Elkan, but it's worth it."</p> + +<p>Elkan nodded and steered the conversation into safer channels; so +that by the time Miss Scheindler had brought in the letter they +were discussing familiar business topics.</p> + +<p>"Also," Gans said as he appended his neat signature to the +letter, "I wish you and Dishkes luck, Elkan; and keep up the good +work about the antique furniture. Even when you would get stuck +with a reproduction instead of a genuine piece once in a while, +if it looks just as good as the original and no one tells you +differently, understand me, you feel just as happy."</p> + +<p>Thus encouraged, Elkan went home that evening full of a +determination to acquire all the antique furniture his apartment +would hold; and he and Yetta sat up until past midnight conning +the pages of a heavy volume on the subject, which Yetta had +procured from the neighbouring public library. Accordingly Elkan +rose late the following morning, and it was almost nine o'clock +before he reached his office and observed on the very top of his +morning mail a slip of paper containing a message in the +handwriting of Sam, the office boy.</p> + +<p>"A man called about Jacobowitz," it read, and Elkan immediately +rang his deskbell.</p> + +<p>"What Jacobowitz is this?" he demanded as Sam entered, and the +office boy shrugged.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span>"I should know!" he said.</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean you should know?" Elkan cried. "Ain't I always +told it you you should write down always the name when people +call?"</p> + +<p>"Ain't Jacobowitz a name?" Sam replied. "Furthermore, you +couldn't expect me I should get the family history from everybody +which is coming in the place, Mr. Lubliner—especially when the +feller says he would come back."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you tell me he is coming back?" Elkan asked, and +again Sam shrugged.</p> + +<p>"When the feller is coming back, Mr. Lubliner," he said, "it +don't make no difference if I tell you <i>oder</i> not. He would come +back anyhow."</p> + +<p>Having thus disposed of the matter to his entire satisfaction, +Sam withdrew and banged the door triumphantly behind him, while +Elkan fell to examining his mail. He had hardly cut the first +envelope, however, when his door opened to admit Dishkes.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>, Dishkes!" Elkan said. "You are pretty early, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Dishkes nodded.</p> + +<p>"I'm a <i>Schlemiel</i>, Mr. Lubliner," he said, "and that's all there +is to it. Yesterday I went to work and lost my wife's picture."</p> + +<p>Elkan slapped his thigh with his hand.</p> + +<p>"Well, ain't I a peach?" he said. "I am getting so mixed up with +these here antics I completely forgot to tell Yetta anything +about it. I didn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> even show it to her, Dishkes; so you must +leave me have it for a day longer, Dishkes."</p> + +<p>As he spoke he drew the cabinet photograph from his breast pocket +and handed it to Dishkes, who gazed earnestly at it for a minute. +Then, resting his elbows on his knees, he buried his face in his +hands and burst into a fit of hysterical sobbing, whereat Elkan +jumped from his seat and passed hurriedly out of the room. As he +walked toward the showroom the strains of a popular song came +from behind a rack.</p> + +<p>"Sam," he bellowed, "who asks you you should whistle round here?"</p> + +<p>The whistling ceased and Sam emerged from his hiding-place with a +feather brush.</p> + +<p>"I could whistle without being asked," Sam replied; "and +furthermore, Mr. Lubliner, when I am dusting the samples I must +got to whistle; otherwise the dust gets in my lungs, which I +value my lungs the same like you do, Mr. Lubliner, even if I +would be here only a boy working on stock!"</p> + +<p>With this decisive rejoinder he resumed dusting the samples, +while Elkan returned to his office, where he found that Dishkes +had regained his composure.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Despite the fact that all of Dishkes' creditors save one had +signed an extension agreement, the meeting in Polatkin, +Scheikowitz & Company's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> showroom was well attended; and when +Leon Sammet came in, at quarter-past eleven, the assemblage had +already elected Charles Finkman, of Maisener & Finkman, as +chairman. He had just taken his seat in Philip Scheikowitz's new +revolving chair and was in the act of noisily clearing his throat +in lieu of pounding the table with a gavel.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," he said, "first, I want to thank you for the signal +honour you are doing me in appointing me your chairman. For +sixteen years now my labours in the Independent Order Mattai +Aaron ain't unknown to most of you here. Ten years ago, at the +national convention held in Sarahcuse, gentlemen, I was +unanimously elected by the delegates from sixty lodges to be your +National Grand Master; and——"</p> + +<p>At this juncture Leon Sammet rose ponderously to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Say, Finkman!" retorted Sammet. "What has all this <i>Stuss</i> about +the I. O. M. A. got to do <i>mit</i> Dishkes here?"</p> + +<p>Again Finkman cleared his throat, and this time he produced a +note of challenge that caused the members of the I. O. M. A. +there present to lean forward in their seats. They expected a +crushing rejoinder and they were not disappointed.</p> + +<p>"What is the motto of the I. O. M. A., Sammet?" Finkman +thundered. "'Justice, Fraternity and Charity!' And I say to you +now that, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> chairman of this meeting, as well as Past National +Grand Master of that noble order to which you and I both belong, +<i>verstehst du</i>, I will see that justice be done, fraternity be +encouraged and charity dispensed on each and every occasion.</p> + +<p>"Now, my brothers, here is a fellow member of our organization in +distress, y'understand; and I ask you one and all this +question"—he raised his voice to a pitch that made the filaments +tremble in the electric-light bulbs—"Who," he roared, "who will +come to his assistance?"</p> + +<p>He paused dramatically just as Sam, the office boy, stuck his +head in the showroom doorway and rent the silence with his high, +piping voice.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lubliner," he said, "the man is here about Jacobowitz."</p> + +<p>Elkan flapped his hand wildly, but it was too late to prevent the +entrance of no less a person than Jacob Paul—the connoisseur of +antiques and fine arts.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Finkman!" he said; "what's the trouble here?"</p> + +<p>Elkan started from his seat to interrupt his visitor, but there +was something in Finkman's manner that made him sit down again.</p> + +<p>"Why, how do you do, Mr. Paul?" Finkman exclaimed; and the +clarion note had deserted his voice, leaving only a slight +hoarseness to mark its passing. "What brings you here?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>"I might ask the same of you, Finkman," Jacob Paul replied; and +as his keen eyes scanned the assembled company they rested for a +minute on Leon Sammet, who forthwith began to perspire.</p> + +<p>"The fact is," Finkman began, "this here is a meeting of +creditors of Louis Dishkes, of the Villy dee Paris Store on +Amsterdam Avenue."</p> + +<p>Paul turned to Louis Dishkes, proprietor of the Ville de Paris +Store, who sat at the side of the room behind Scheikowitz's desk +in an improvised prisoner's dock.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Dishkes?" Paul asked. "Couldn't you make it +go up there?"</p> + +<p>Dishkes shrugged hopelessly.</p> + +<p>"Next month, when them houses round the corner is rented," he +said, "I could do a good business there."</p> + +<p>"You ought to," Paul agreed. "You ain't got no competitors, so +far as I could see."</p> + +<p>"That's what we all think!" Elkan broke in—"that is to say, all +of us except Mr. Sammet; and he ain't willing to wait for his +money."</p> + +<p>Leon Sammet moved uneasily in his chair as Jacob Paul faced about +in his direction.</p> + +<p>"Why ain't you willing to wait, Sammet?" he asked; and Leon +mopped his face with his handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's like this, Mr. Paul——" he began, but the +connoisseur of antiques raised his hand.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span>"One moment, Sammet," he said. "You know as well as anybody else, +and better even, that a millionaire concern like the Hamsuckett +Mills must got to wait once in a while." He paused significantly. +"If we didn't," he continued, "there's plenty of solvent concerns +would be forced to the wall—ain't it? Furthermore, if the +Hamsuckett Mills did business the way you want to, Sammet, I +wouldn't keep my job as credit man and treasurer very long."</p> + +<p>Sammet nodded weakly and plied his handkerchief with more vigour, +while Elkan sat and stared at his acquaintance of Sunday night in +unfeigned astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Then what is the use of talking, Sammet?" Paul said. "So long as +you are the only one standing out, why don't you make an end of +it? How long an extension does Dishkes want?"</p> + +<p>"Two months," Finkman answered.</p> + +<p>"And where is the agreement you fellows all signed?" Paul +continued.</p> + +<p>Elkan took a paper from the desk in front of Dishkes and passed +it to Paul, who drew from his waistcoat pocket an opulent +gold-mounted fountain pen. Then he walked over to Leon Sammet and +handed him the pen and the agreement.</p> + +<p>"<i>Schreib</i>, Sammet," he said, "and don't make no more fuss about +it."</p> + +<p>A moment later Sammet appended a shaky sig<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>nature to the +agreement and returned it, with the pen, to Paul.</p> + +<p>A quarter of an hour later Jacob Paul sat in Elkan's office and +smoked one of Polatkin, Scheikowitz & Company's best cigars.</p> + +<p>"Now I put it up to you, Lubliner," he said: "them Jacobean +chairs are pretty high at fifty dollars, but I want 'em, and I'm +willing to give you sixty for 'em."</p> + +<p>Elkan smiled and made a wide gesture with both hands.</p> + +<p>"My dear Mr. Paul," he said, "after what you done to-day for +Dishkes I'll make you a present of 'em—free for nothing."</p> + +<p>"No, you won't do no such thing," Paul declared; "because I'm +going to sell 'em again and at a profit, as I may as well tell +you."</p> + +<p>"My worries what you are going to do with 'em!" Elkan declared. +"But one thing I ain't going to do, Mr. Paul—I ain't going to +make no profit on you; so go ahead and take the chairs at what I +paid for 'em—and that's the best I could do for you."</p> + +<p>It required no further persuasion for Jacob Paul to draw a +fifty-dollar check to Elkan's order; and as he rose to leave +Elkan pressed his hand warmly.</p> + +<p>"Come up and see me, Mr. Paul, when we get through refurnishing," +he said. "I promise you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> you would see a flat furnished to your +taste—no crayon portraits nor nothing."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>It was late in the afternoon when Elkan's office door opened to +admit Sam, the office boy.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lubliner," he said, "another feller is here about this +here—now—Jacobowitz."</p> + +<p>Elkan glanced through the half-open door and recognized the +figure of Ringentaub, the antiquarian.</p> + +<p>"Tell him to come in," he said; and a moment later Ringentaub was +wringing Elkan's hand and babbling his gratitude for his +brother-in-law's deliverance from bankruptcy.</p> + +<p>"God will bless you for it, Mr. Lubliner," he said; "and I am +ashamed of myself when I think of it. I am a dawg, Mr. +Lubliner—and that's all there is to it."</p> + +<p>Here he drew a greasy wallet from his breast pocket and extracted +three ten-dollar bills.</p> + +<p>"Take 'em, Mr. Lubliner," he said, "and forgive me."</p> + +<p>He pressed the bills into Elkan's hand.</p> + +<p>"What's this?" Elkan demanded.</p> + +<p>"That's the change from your fifty dollars," Ringentaub replied; +"because, so help me, Mr. Lubliner, there is first-class material +in them chairs and the feller that makes 'em for me is a +highgrade cabinetmaker. Then you got to reckon it stands me in a +couple of dollars also to get 'em fixed up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> antique, +y'understand; so, if you get them chairs for twenty dollars you +are buying a bargain, Mr. Lubliner."</p> + +<p>"Why, what d'ye mean?" Elkan cried. "Ain't them chairs gen-wine +Jacobean chairs?"</p> + +<p>"Not by a whole lot they ain't," Ringentaub declared fervently.</p> + +<p>"But Mr. Paul thinks they are!" Elkan exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Ringentaub answered; "and that shows what a lot a +collector knows about such things. Paul is a credit man for the +Hamsuckett Mills, Mr. Lubliner; but he collects old furniture on +the side."</p> + +<p>For a moment Elkan gazed open-mouthed at the antiquarian and a +great light began to break in on him.</p> + +<p>"So-o-o!" he cried. "That's what you mean by a collector!"</p> + +<p>Ringentaub nodded.</p> + +<p>"And furthermore, Mr. Lubliner, when collectors knows more about +antiques as dealers does, Mr. Lubliner," he said with his hand on +the doorknob, "I'll go into the woollen piece-goods business +too—which you could take it from me, Mr. Lubliner, it wouldn't +be soon, by a hundred years even."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>When Elkan emerged from the One-Hundred-and-Sixteenth Street +station of the subway that evening a familiar voice hailed him +from the rear.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span>"<i>Nu</i>, Elkan!" cried B. Gans, for it was none other than he. "You +made out fine at the meeting this morning—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"Who told you?" Elkan asked as he linked arms with the highgrade +manufacturer.</p> + +<p>"Never mind who told me," B. Gans said jokingly; "but all I could +say is you made a tremendous hit with Jacob Paul, Elkan—and if +that ain't no compliment, understand me, I don't know what is. +Why, there ain't a better judge of men <i>oder</i> antique furniture +in this here city than Paul, Elkan. He's an A-Number-One credit +man, too, and I bet yer he gets a big salary from them Hamsuckett +Mills people, which the least his income could be—considering +what he picks up selling antiques—is fifteen thousand a year."</p> + +<p>"Does Paul sell all the antiques he collects?" Elkan asked.</p> + +<p>"Does he?" B. Gans rejoined. "Well, I should say he does! Myself +I bought from him in the past two weeks half a dozen chairs, +understand me—four last week and two to-day—which I am paying +him five hundred dollars for the lot. They're worth it, too, +Elkan. I never seen finer examples of the period."</p> + +<p>"But are you sure they're gen-wine?" Elkan asked as they reached +the entrance to his apartment house.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span>"Paul says they are," B. Gans answered, slapping Elkan's shoulder +in farewell; "and if he's mistaken, Elkan, then I'm content that +I should be."</p> + +<p>Two hours later, however, after Elkan had recounted to Yetta all +the incidents of Dishkes' meeting and the resulting sale of the +chairs, his conscience smote him.</p> + +<p>"What d'ye think, Yetta?" he asked. "Should I tell Paul and Gans +the chairs ain't gen-wine, <i>oder</i> not?"</p> + +<p>For more than ten minutes Yetta wrinkled her forehead over this +knotty ethical point; then she delivered her opinion.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Gans tells you he is just as happy if they ain't +gen-wine—ain't it?" she said.</p> + +<p>Elkan nodded.</p> + +<p>"And Mr. Paul acted honest, because he didn't know they wasn't +gen-wine neither, ain't it?" she continued.</p> + +<p>Again Elkan nodded.</p> + +<p>"Then," Yetta declared, "if you are taking it so particular as +all that, Elkan, there's only one thing for you to do—give me +the thirty dollars!"</p> + +<p>"Is that so!" Elkan exclaimed ironically. "And what will you do +with the money?"</p> + +<p>"The only thing I can do with it, <i>Schlemiel</i>," she said. "Ten +dollars I will give Louis Dishkes he should take a trip up to the +country over Sunday and visit his wife."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>"And what will we do with the other twenty?" Elkan asked.</p> + +<p>"We'll send a present with him to Mrs. Dishkes," Yetta concluded +with a smile, "and it wouldn't be no antics neither!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SEVEN" id="CHAPTER_SEVEN"></a>CHAPTER SEVEN</h2> +<h2>SWEET AND SOUR</h2> +<h3>ARE THE USES OF COMPETITIVE SALESMANSHIP</h3> +</div> + +<p class="dcitalic">"A<i>BER</i> me and Yetta is got it all fixed up we would go to Mrs. +Kotlin's already," Elkan Lubliner protested as he mopped his +forehead one hot Tuesday morning in July. "The board there is +something elegant, Mr. Scheikowitz. Everybody says so."</p> + +<p>"<i>Yow!</i> everybody!" Philip Scheikowitz retorted. "Who is +everybody, Elkan? A couple drummers like Marks Pasinsky, one or +two real estaters, understand me, and the rest of 'em is wives +from J to L retailers, third credit, which every time their +husbands comes down to spend Sunday with 'em, y'understand, he +must pretty near got to pawn the shirt from his back for car fare +already."</p> + +<p>"Scheikowitz is right, Elkan," Marcus Polatkin joined in. "A +feller shouldn't make a god from his stomach, Elkan, especially +when money don't figure at all, so if you would be going down to +Egremont Beach, understand me, there's only one place you should +stay, y'understand, and that's the New Salisbury."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span>"Which if you wouldn't take our word for it, Elkan," Scheikowitz +added, "just give a look here."</p> + +<p>He drew from his coat pocket the summer resort section of the +previous day's paper and thrust it toward his junior partner, +indicating as he did so a half column headed:</p> + +<div class="blockcenter"> +MIDSEASON GAIETY AT<br /> +EGREMONT BEACH +</div> + +<p>which reads as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> +<p>The season is in full swing here.</p> + +<p>On Saturday night Mr. and Mrs. Bernard Gans gave a +Chinese Lantern Dinner in the Hanging Gardens at which +were present Mr. and Mrs. Sam Feder, Mr. and Mrs. Max +Koblin, Mr. and Mrs. Henry D. Feldman, Mr. Jacob Scharley +and Miss Hortense Feldman.</p> + +<p>Among those who registered Friday at the New Salisbury +were Mr. Jacob Scharley of San Francisco, Mr. and Mrs. +Sol Klinger, Mr. Leon Sammet and his mother, Mrs. Leah +Sammet.</p> +</div> + +<p>"I thought that Leon's brother Barney was staying down at +Egremont," Polatkin said after he and Elkan had read the item.</p> + +<p>"Barney is at Mrs. Kotlin's," Scheikowitz explained, "because +<i>mit</i> Leon Sammet, Polatkin, nothing is too rotten for Barney to +stay at, and besides he thinks Barney would get a little <i>small</i> +business there, which the way Sammet Brothers figures, understand +me, if they could stick a feller with three bills of goods for a +couple hundred dollars apiece, y'understand, so long as he pays +up on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> first two, he couldn't eat up their profits if he +would bust up on 'em <i>mit</i> the third."</p> + +<p>"Sure I know," Elkan said, "<i>aber</i> I ain't going down to Egremont +for business, Mr. Scheikowitz, I'm going because it ain't so warm +down there."</p> + +<p>"<i>Schmooes</i>, Elkan!" Scheikowitz retorted. "It wouldn't make it +not one degrees warmer in Egremont supposing you could get a +couple new accounts down there."</p> + +<p>"B. Gans don't take it so particular about the weather," Polatkin +commented. "I bet yer he would a whole lot sooner take off his +coat and shirt and <i>spiel</i> a little auction pinocle <i>mit</i> Sol +Klinger and Leon Sammet and all them fellers as be giving dinners +already in a tuxedo suit to Sam Feder. I bet yer he gets a fine +accommodation from the Kosciusko Bank out of that dinner yet."</p> + +<p>"The other people also he ain't <i>schencking</i> no dinners to 'em +for nothing neither," Scheikowitz declared. "Every one of 'em +means something to B. Gans, I bet yer."</p> + +<p>Elkan nodded.</p> + +<p>"Particularly Scharley," he said.</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean, particularly Scharley?" Polatkin and Scheikowitz +inquired with one voice.</p> + +<p>"Why, ain't you heard about Scharley?" Elkan asked. "It's right +there in the <i>Daily Cloak and Suit Journal</i>."</p> + +<p>He indicated the front sheet of that newsy trade<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> paper, where +under the heading of "Incorporations" appeared the following +item:</p> + +<div class="blockquote"><p>The Scharley, Oderburg Drygoods Company, San Francisco, +Cal., has filed articles of incorporation, giving its +capital stock as $500,000, and expects to open its new +store in September next.</p></div> + +<p>"And you are talking about staying by Mrs. Kotlin's!" Scheikowitz +exclaimed in injured tones. "You should ought to be ashamed of +yourself, Elkan."</p> + +<p>Elkan received his senior partner's upbraiding with a patient +smile.</p> + +<p>"What show do we stand against a concern like B. Gans?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"B. Gans sells him only highgrade goods, Elkan," Scheikowitz +declared. "I bet yer the least the feller buys is for twenty +thousand dollars garments here, and a good half would be popular +price lines, which if we would get busy, we stand an elegant show +there, Elkan."</p> + +<p>"You should ought to go down there to-morrow yet," Polatkin +cried, "because the first thing you know Leon Sammet would +entertain him <i>mit</i> oitermobiles yet, and Sol Klinger gets also +busy, understand me, and the consequences is we wouldn't be in it +at all."</p> + +<p>"Next Saturday is the earliest Yetta could get ready," Elkan +replied positively, and Polatkin strode up and down the floor in +an access of despair.</p> + +<p>"All right, Elkan," he said, "if you want to let<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> such an +opportunity slip down your fingers, y'understand, all right. +<i>Aber</i> if I would be you, Elkan, I would go down there to-night +yet."</p> + +<p>Elkan shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't get Yetta she should close up the flat under the very +least <i>two</i> days, Mr. Polatkin," he said. "She must got to fix +everything just right, <i>mit</i> moth-camphor and <i>Gott weisst was +nach</i>, otherwise she wouldn't go at all. The rugs alone takes a +whole day to fix."</p> + +<p>"Do as you like, Elkan," Polatkin declared, "<i>aber</i> you mark my +words, if Leon Sammet ain't shoving heaven and earth right now, +y'understand, I don't know nothing about the garment business at +all."</p> + +<p>In fulfilment of this prophecy, when Elkan entered his office the +following morning Polatkin waved in his face a copy of the +morning paper.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "what did I told you, Elkan?"</p> + +<p>Scheikowitz nodded slowly.</p> + +<p>"My partner is right, Elkan," he added, "so stubborn you are."</p> + +<p>"What's the matter now?" Elkan asked, and for answer Polatkin +handed him the paper with his thumb pressed against a paragraph +as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquote"><p>Mr. and Mrs. Sam Feder, Mr. and Mrs. Max Koblin, Mr. and +Mrs. Henry D. Feldman, Miss Hortense Feldman, and Mr. +Jacob Scharley were guests of Mr. Leon Sammet at a +Chinese Lantern Dinner this evening given in the Hanging +Gardens of the New Salisbury.</p></div><p></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>"I thought it would be at the least an oitermobile ride," +Polatkin said in melancholy tones, "but with that sucker all he +could do is stealing a competitor's idees. B. Gans gives Scharley +a dinner and Leon Sammet is got to do it, too, <i>mit</i> the same +guests and everything."</p> + +<p>"Even to Feldman's sister already," Scheikowitz added, "which it +must be that Feldman is trying to marry her off to Scharley even +if he would be a widower <i>mit</i> two sons in college. She's a +highly educated young lady, too."</p> + +<p>"Young she ain't no longer," Polatkin interrupted, "and if a girl +couldn't cook even a pertater, understand me, it don't make no +difference if she couldn't cook it in six languages, +y'understand, Feldman would got a hard job marrying her off +<i>anyhow</i>."</p> + +<p>Scheikowitz made an impatient gesture with both hands, suggestive +of a dog swimming.</p> + +<p>"That's neither here or there, Polatkin," he said. "The point is +Elkan should go right uptown and <i>geschwind</i> pack his grip and be +down at the Salisbury this afternoon yet, if Yetta would be ready +<i>oder</i> not. We couldn't afford to let the ground grow under our +feet and that's all there is <i>to</i> it."</p> + +<p>Thus, shortly after six o'clock that evening, Elkan and Yetta +alighted from the 5:10 special from Flatbush Avenue and picked +their way through a marital throng that kissed and embraced with +as much ardour as though the reunion had concluded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> a parting of +ten years instead of ten hours. At length the happy couples +dragged themselves apart and crowded into the automobile 'bus of +the New Salisbury, sweeping Elkan and Yetta before them, so that +when the 'bus arrived at the hotel Elkan and Yetta were the last +to descend.</p> + +<p>A burly yellow-faced porter seized the baggage with the +contemptuous manner that Ham nowadays evinces toward Shem, and +Elkan and Yetta followed him through the luxurious social hall to +the desk. There the room clerk immediately shot out a three-carat +diamond ring, and when Elkan's eyes became accustomed to the +glare he saw that beneath it was a fat white hand extended in +cordial greeting.</p> + +<p>"Why, how do you do, Mr. Williams," Elkan cried, as he shook +hands fervently. "Ain't you in the Pitt House, Sarahcuse, no +more?"</p> + +<p>"I'm taking a short vacation in a sensible manner, Mr. Lubliner," +Mr. Williams replied in the rounded tones that only truly great +actors, clergymen, and room clerks possess. "Which means that I +am interested in a real-estate development near here, and I'm +combining business with pleasure for a couple of months."</p> + +<p>Elkan nodded admiringly.</p> + +<p>"You got the right idee, Mr. Williams," he said. "This is my +wife, Mr. Williams."</p> + +<p>The room clerk acknowledged the introduction with a bow that +combined the grace of Paderewski<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> and the dignity of Prince +Florizel in just the right proportions.</p> + +<p>"Delighted to know you, Madame," he declared. "Have you made +reservations, Mr. Lubliner?"</p> + +<p>Elkan shook his head and after an exchange of confidential +murmurs Mr. Williams assigned them a room with an ocean view, +from which they emerged less than half an hour later to await on +the veranda the welcome sound of the dinner gong. A buzz of +animated conversation filled the air, above which rose a little +shriek of welcome as Mrs. Gans rushed toward Yetta with +outstretched hands.</p> + +<p>"Why, hello, Yetta!" she cried. "I didn't know you was coming +down here."</p> + +<p>They exchanged the kiss of utter peace that persists between the +kin of highgrade and popular-priced manufacturers.</p> + +<p>"I read about you in the newspapers," Yetta said, as they seated +themselves in adjoining rockers, and Mrs. Gans flashed all the +gems of her right hand in a gesture of deprecation.</p> + +<p>"I tell you," she said, "it makes me sick here the way people +carries on. Honestly, Yetta, I don't see Barney only at meals and +when he's getting dressed. Everything is Mister <i>Scharley</i>, +Mister <i>Scharley</i>. You would think he was H. P. Morgan <i>oder</i> the +Czar of <i>Russland</i> from the fuss everybody makes over him."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>Yetta nodded in sympathy and suddenly Mrs. Gans clutched the arm +of her chair.</p> + +<p>"There he is now," she hissed.</p> + +<p>"Where?" Yetta asked, and Mrs. Gans nodded toward a doorway at +the end of the veranda, on which in electric bulbs was outlined +the legend, "Hanging Gardens." Yetta descried a short, stout +personage between fifty and sixty years of age, arrayed in a +white flannel suit of which the coat and waistcoat were cut in +imitation of an informal evening costume. On his arm there +drooped a lady no longer in her twenties, and from the V-shaped +opening in the rear of her dinner gown a medical student could +have distinguished with more or less certainty the bones of the +cervical vertebræ, the right and left scapula and the +articulation of each with the humerus and clavicle.</p> + +<p>"That's Miss Feldman," Mrs. Gans whispered. "She's refined like +anything, Yetta, and she talks French better as a waiter +already."</p> + +<p>At this juncture the dinner gong sounded and Yetta rejoined Elkan +in the social hall.</p> + +<p>"What is the trouble you are looking so <i>rachmonos</i>, Elkan?" she +asked as she pressed his arm consolingly.</p> + +<p>"To-night it's Sol Klinger," Elkan replied. "He's got a dinner on +in the Hanging Gardens for Scharley, Yetta, and I guess I +wouldn't get a look-in even."</p> + +<p>"You've got six weeks before you," Yetta assured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> him, "and you +shouldn't worry. Something is bound to turn up, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>She gave his arm another little caress and they proceeded +immediately to the dining room, where the string orchestra and +the small talk of two hundred and fifty guests strove vainly for +the ascendency in one maddening cacophony. It was nearly eight +o'clock before Elkan and Yetta arose from the table and repaired +to the veranda whose rockers were filled with a chattering +throng.</p> + +<p>"Let's get out of this," Elkan said, and they descended the +veranda steps to the sidewalk. Five minutes later they were +seated on a remote bench of the boardwalk, and until nine o'clock +they watched the beauty of the moon and sea, which is constant +even at Egremont Beach. When they rose to go Yetta noticed for +the first time a shawl-clad figure on the adjacent bench, and +immediately a pair of keen eyes flashed from a face whose plump +contentment was framed in a jet black wig of an early Victorian +design.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>"Why, if it ain't Mrs. Lesengeld," Yetta exclaimed and the next +moment she enfolded the little woman in a cordial embrace.</p> + +<p>"You grown a <i>bisschen</i> fat, Yetta," Mrs. Lesengeld said. "I +wouldn't knew you at all, if you ain't speaking to me first."</p> + +<p>"This is my husband, Mrs. Lesengeld—Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> Lubliner," Yetta went +on. "He heard me talk often from you, Mrs. Lesengeld, and what a +time you got it learning me I should speak English yet."</p> + +<p>Elkan beamed at Mrs. Lesengeld.</p> + +<p>"And not only <i>that</i>," he said, "but also how good to her you was +when she was sick already. There ain't many boarding-house ladies +like you, Mrs. Lesengeld."</p> + +<p>"And there ain't so many boarders like Yetta, neither," Mrs. +Lesengeld retorted.</p> + +<p>"And do you got a boarding-house down here, Mrs. Lesengeld?" +Yetta asked.</p> + +<p>"I've gone out of the boarding-house business," Mrs. Lesengeld +replied, "which you know what a trouble I got it <i>mit</i> that +lowlife Lesengeld, <i>olav hasholom</i>, after he failed in the pants +business, how I am working my fingers to the bones already +keeping up his insurings in the I. O. M. A. and a couple thousand +dollars in a company already."</p> + +<p>Yetta nodded.</p> + +<p>"Which I got my reward at last," Mrs. Lesengeld concluded. "Quick +diabetes, Yetta, and so I bought for ten thousand dollars a +mortgage, understand me, and my son-in-law allows me also four +dollars a week which I got it a whole lot easier nowadays."</p> + +<p>"And are you staying down here?" Elkan asked.</p> + +<p>"Me, I got for twenty dollars a month a little house <i>mit</i> two +rooms only, right on the sea, which they call it there Bognor +Park. You must come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> over and see us, Yetta. Such a <i>gemütlich</i> +little house we got it you wouldn't believe at all, and every +Sunday my daughter Fannie and my son-in-law comes down and stays +with us."</p> + +<p>"And are you going all the way home alone?" Elkan asked +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Fannie is staying down with me to-night. She meets me on the +corner of the Boulevard, where the car stops, at ten o'clock +already," Mrs. Lesengeld replied.</p> + +<p>"Then you must got to come right along with us," Elkan said, "and +we'll see you would get there on time."</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" Mrs. Lesengeld asked.</p> + +<p>"Over to the Salisbury," Elkan answered, and Mrs. Lesengeld sank +back on to the bench.</p> + +<p>"<i>Geh weg</i>, Mr. Lubliner," she cried. "I am now fifty years old +and I was never in such a place in my life, especially which +under this shawl I got only a plain cotton dress yet."</p> + +<p>Elkan flapped his hand reassuringly.</p> + +<p>"A fine-looking lady like you, Mrs. Lesengeld," he said, as he +seized her hands and drew her gently to her feet, "looks well in +anything."</p> + +<p>"And you'll have a water ice in the Hanging Gardens with us," +Yetta persisted as she slipped a hand under Mrs. Lesengeld's +shawl and pressed her arm affectionately. Ten minutes later they +arrived at the stoop of the New Salisbury, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> the scandalization +and horror of the three score A to F first credit manufacturers +and their wives. Moreover, approximately a hundred and fifty +karats of blue white diamonds rose and fell indignantly on the +bosoms of twenty or thirty credit-high retailers' wives, when the +little, toilworn woman with her shawl and ritualistic wig entered +the Hanging Gardens chatting pleasantly with Elkan and Yetta; and +as they seated themselves at a table the buzz of conversation +hushed into silence and then roared out anew with an +accompaniment of titters.</p> + +<p>At the next table Sol Klinger plied with liquors and cigars the +surviving guests of his dinner, and when Elkan nodded to him, he +ignored the salutation with a blank stare. He raged inwardly, not +so much at Elkan's invasion of that fashionable precinct as at +the circumstance that his guest of honour had departed with Miss +Feldman for a stroll on the boardwalk some ten minutes +previously, and he was therefore unable to profit by Elkan's +<i>faux pas</i>.</p> + +<p>"The feller ain't got no manners at all," he said to Max Koblin, +who nodded gloomily.</p> + +<p>"It's getting terrible mixed down here, Sol," Max commented as he +hiccoughed away a slight flatulency. "Honestly if you want to be +in striking distance of your business, Sol, so's you could come +in and out every day, you got to rub shoulders with everybody, +ain't it?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>He soothed his outraged sensibilities with a great cloud of smoke +that drifted over Elkan's table, and Mrs. Lesengeld broke into a +fit of coughing which caused a repetition of the titters.</p> + +<p>"And do you still make that brown stewed fish sweet and sour, +Mrs. Lesengeld?" Yetta asked by way of putting the old lady at +her ease.</p> + +<p>"Make it!" Mrs. Lesengeld answered. "I should say I do. Why you +wouldn't believe the way my son-in-law is crazy about it. We got +it every Sunday regular, and I tell you what I would do, Yetta."</p> + +<p>She laid her hand on Yetta's arm and her face broke into a +thousand tiny wrinkles of hospitality.</p> + +<p>"You should come Friday to lunch sure," she declared, "and we +would got some brown stewed fish sweet and sour and a good plate +of <i>Bortch</i> to begin with."</p> + +<p>Sol Klinger had been leaning back in his chair in an effort to +overhear their conversation, and at this announcement he broke +into a broad guffaw, which ran around the table after he had +related the cause of it to his guests. Indeed, so much did Sol +relish the joke that with it he entertained the occupants of +about a dozen seats in the smoking car of the 8:04 express the +next morning, and he was so full of it when he entered +Hammersmith's Restaurant the following noon that he could not +forego the pleasure of visiting Marcus Polatkin's table and +relating it to Polatkin himself.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span>Polatkin heard him through without a smile and when at its +conclusion Klinger broke into a hysterical appreciation of his +own humour, Polatkin shrugged.</p> + +<p>"I suppose, Klinger," he said, "your poor mother, <i>olav +hasholom</i>, didn't wear a <i>sheitel</i> neither, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"My mother, <i>olav hasholom</i>, would got more sense as to butt in +to a place like that," Klinger retorted.</p> + +<p>"Even if you wouldn't of been ashamed to have taken her there, +Klinger," he added.</p> + +<p>Klinger flushed angrily.</p> + +<p>"That ain't here or there, Polatkin," he said. "You should ought +to put your partner wise, Polatkin, that he shouldn't go dragging +in an old <i>Bubé</i> into a place like the Salisbury and talking such +nonsense like brown stewed fish sweet and sour."</p> + +<p>He broke into another laugh at the recollection of it—a laugh +that was louder but hardly as unforced as the first one.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter <i>mit</i> brown stewed fish sweet and sour, +Klinger?" Polatkin asked. "I eat already a lot of <i>a-la's</i> and +<i>en cazzerolls</i> in a whole lot of places just so <i>grossartig</i> as +the Salisbury, understand me, and I would <i>schenck</i> you a million +of 'em for one plate of brown stewed fish sweet and sour like +your mother made it from <i>zu Hause</i> yet."</p> + +<p>"But what for an interest does a merchant like Scharley got to +hear such things," Klinger protested<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> lamely. "Honestly, I was +ashamed for your partner's sake to hear such a talk going on +there."</p> + +<p>"Did Scharley got any objections?" Polatkin asked.</p> + +<p>"Fortunately the feller had gone away from the table," Klinger +replied, "so he didn't hear it at all."</p> + +<p>"Well," Polatkin declared, taking up his knife and fork as a +signal that the matter was closed, "ask him and see if he +wouldn't a whole lot sooner eat some good brown stewed fish sweet +and sour as a Chinese Lantern Dinner—whatever for a bunch of +poison that might be, Klinger—and don't you forget it."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless when Polatkin returned to his place of business he +proceeded at once to Elkan's office.</p> + +<p>"Say, lookyhere Elkan," he demanded, "what is all this I hear +about you and Yetta taking an old <i>Bubé</i> into the Hanging Gardens +already, and making from her laughing stocks out of the whole +place."</p> + +<p>Elkan looked up calmly.</p> + +<p>"It's a free country, Mr. Polatkin," he said, "and so long as I +pay my board <i>mit</i> U. S. money, already I would take in there any +of my friends I would please."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I know," Polatkin expostulated, "but I seen Klinger around +at Hammersmith's and he says——"</p> + +<p>"Klinger!" Elkan exclaimed. "Well, you could say to Klinger for +me, Mr. Polatkin, that if he don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> like the way I am acting +around there, understand me, he should just got the nerve to tell +it me to my face yet."</p> + +<p>Polatkin flapped the air with his right hand.</p> + +<p>"Never mind Klinger, Elkan," he said. "You got to consider you +shouldn't make a fool of yourself before Scharley and all them +people. How do you expect you should get such a merchant as +Scharley he should accept from you entertainment like a Chinese +Lantern Dinner, if you are acting that way?"</p> + +<p>"Chinese Lantern Dinner be damned!" Elkan retorted. "When we got +the right goods at the right price, Mr. Polatkin, why should we +got to give a merchant dinners yet to convince him of it?"</p> + +<p>"Dinners is nothing, Elkan," Polatkin interrupted with a wave of +his hand. "You got to give him dyspepsha even, the way business +is nowadays."</p> + +<p>"<i>Aber</i> I was talking to the room clerk last night," Elkan went +on, "and he tells me so sure as you are standing there, Mr. +Polatkin, a Chinese Lantern Dinner would stand us in twenty +dollars a head."</p> + +<p>"Twenty dollars a head!" Polatkin exclaimed and indulged himself +in a low whistle.</p> + +<p>"So even if I <i>would</i> be staying at the Salisbury, understand +me," Elkan said, "I ain't going to throw away our money out of +the window exactly."</p> + +<p>"<i>Aber</i> how are you going to get the feller down here, if you +wouldn't entertain him or something?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>Elkan slapped his chest with a great show of confidence.</p> + +<p>"Leave that to <i>me</i>, Mr. Polatkin," he said, and put on his hat +preparatory to going out to lunch.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless when he descended from his room at the New Salisbury +that evening and prepared to take a turn on the boardwalk before +dinner, his confidence evaporated at the coolness of his +reception by the assembled guests of the hotel. Leon Sammet cut +him dead, and even B. Gans greeted him with half jovial reproach.</p> + +<p>"Well, Elkan," he said, "going to entertain any more <i>fromme +Leute</i> in the Garden to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Seemingly, Mr. Gans," Elkan said, "it was a big shock to +everybody here to see for the first time an old lady wearing a +<i>sheitel</i>. I suppose nobody here never seen it before, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>B. Gans put a fatherly hand on Elkan's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell yer, Elkan," he said, "if I would be such a <i>rosher</i>, +understand me, that I would hold it against you because you ain't +forgetting an old friend, like this here lady must be, +y'understand, I should never sell a dollar's worth more goods so +long as I live, <i>aber</i> if Klinger and Sammet would start kidding +you in front of Scharley, understand me, it would look bad."</p> + +<p>"Why would it look bad, Mr. Gans?" Elkan broke in.</p> + +<p>"Because it don't do nobody no good to have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> funny stories told +about 'em, except an actor <i>oder</i> a politician, Elkan," Gans +replied as the dinner gong began to sound, "which if a customer +wouldn't take <i>you</i> seriously, he wouldn't take your goods +seriously neither, Elkan, and that's all there is <i>to</i> it."</p> + +<p>He smiled reassuringly as he walked toward the dining room and +left Elkan a prey to most uncomfortable reflections, which did +not abate when he overheard Klinger and Sammet hail Gans at the +end of the veranda.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Gans," Klinger said with a sidelong glance at Elkan, +"what are you going to eat to-night—brown stewed fish sweet +<i>und</i> sour?"</p> + +<p>Elkan could not distinguish B. Gans' reply, but he scowled +fiercely at the trio as they entered the hotel lobby, and he +still frowned as he sauntered stolidly after them to await Yetta +in the social hall.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Mr. Lubliner," the room clerk asked when +Elkan passed the desk. "Aren't you feeling well to-day?"</p> + +<p>"I feel all right, Mr. Williams," Elkan replied, "but this here +place is getting on my nerves. It's too much like a big hotel out +on the road somewheres. Everybody looks like they would got +something to sell, understand me, and was doing their level best +to sell it."</p> + +<p>"You're quite right, Mr. Lubliner," the clerk commented, "and +that's the reason why I came down here. In fact," he added with a +guilty smile, "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> made a date to show some of my lots to-morrow +to a prospective customer."</p> + +<p>At this juncture a porter appeared bearing a basket of champagne +and followed by two waiters with ice buckets, and the room clerk +jerked his head sideways in the direction toward which the little +procession had disappeared.</p> + +<p>"That's for Suite 27, the Feldmans' rooms," he explained. "Miss +Feldman is giving a little chafing-dish dinner there to Mr. +Scharley and a few friends."</p> + +<p>He accepted with a graceful nod Elkan's proffered cigar.</p> + +<p>"Which goes to show that it's as you say, Mr. Lubliner," he +concluded. "If you have drygoods, real estate or marriageable +relatives to dispose of, Mr. Lubliner, Egremont's the place to +market them."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Williams," said Jacob Scharley at two o'clock the +following afternoon as they trudged along the sands of Bognor +Park, one of Egremont Beach's new developments, "I was trying to +figure out how these here Chinese Lantern Dinners stands in a +sucker like Leon Sammet twenty dollars a head, when by the +regular bill of fare it comes exactly to seven dollars and fifty +cents including drinks."</p> + +<p>"You can't figure on a special dinner according to the prices on +the regular bill of fare," said Mr. Williams, the room clerk, who +in his quality of real-estate operator was attempting to shift +the conver<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span>sation from hotel matters to the topic of seaside +lots. "Why, ice cream is twenty-five cents on the bill of fare, +but at one of those dinners it's served in imitation Chinese +lanterns, which makes it worth double at least."</p> + +<p>"For my part," Scharley broke in, "they could serve it in +kerosene lamps, Mr. Williams, because I never touch the stuff."</p> + +<p>"It's a parallel case to lots here and lots on Mizzentop Beach, +which is the next beach below," Williams continued. "Here we have +a boardwalk extending right down to our property, and we are +getting seven hundred and fifty dollars a lot, while there, with +practically the same transit facilities but no boardwalk or +electric lights, they get only four hundred and——"</p> + +<p>"<i>Aber</i> you take a piece of tenderloin steak a half an inch thick +and about the size of a price ticket, understand me," Scharley +interrupted, "and even if you <i>would</i> fix it up with half a +cent's worth of peas and spill on it a bottle cough medicine and +glue, <i>verstehst du mich</i>, how could you make it figure up more +as a dollar and a quarter, Mr. Williams? Then the clams, Mr. +Williams, must got to have inside of 'em at the very least a half +a karat pink pearl in 'em, otherwise thirty-five cents would be +big yet."</p> + +<p>"Very likely," Mr. Williams agreed as a shade of annoyance passed +over his well modelled features,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> "but just now, Mr. Scharley, +I'm anxious to show you the advantage of these lots of ours, and +you won't mind if I don't pursue the topic of Chinese Lantern +Dinners any farther."</p> + +<p>"I'm only too glad not to talk about it at all," Scharley agreed. +"In fact if any one else tries to ring in another one of them +dinners on me, Mr. Williams, I'll turn him down on the spot. +Shaving-dish parties neither, which I assure you, Mr. Williams, +even if Miss Feldman would be an elegant, refined young lady, +understand me, she fixes something in that shaving dish of hers +last night, understand me, which I thought I was poisoned +already."</p> + +<p>Williams deemed it best to ignore this observation and therefore +made no comment.</p> + +<p>"But anyhow," Scharley concluded as they approached a little +wooden shack on the margin of the water, "I'm sick and tired of +things to eat, so let's talk about something else."</p> + +<p>Having delivered this ultimatum, his footsteps lagged and he +stopped short as he began to sniff the air like a hunting dog.</p> + +<p>"M-m-m-m!" he exclaimed. "What <i>is</i> that?"</p> + +<p>"That's a two-room shed we rent for twenty dollars a month," +Williams explained. "We have eight of them and they help +considerably to pay our office rent over in New York."</p> + +<p>"Sure I know," Scharley agreed, "<i>aber</i>, m-m-m-m!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span>Once more he expanded his nostrils to catch a delicious fragrance +that emanated from the little shack.</p> + +<p>"<i>Aber</i>, who lives there?" he insisted, and Mr. Williams could +not restrain a laugh.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's that old lady with the wig that Lubliner brought over +to the hotel the other night," he replied. "I thought I saw Sol +Klinger telling you about it yesterday."</p> + +<p>"He started to tell me something about it," Scharley said, "when +Barney Gans butted in and wouldn't let him. What <i>was</i> it about +this here old lady?"</p> + +<p>"There isn't anything to it particularly," Williams replied, +"excepting that it seemed a little strange to see an old lady in +a shawl and one of those religious wigs in the Hanging Gardens, +and there was something else Klinger told me about Mrs. Lubliner +and the old lady talking about brown stewed fish sweet and——"</p> + +<p>At this juncture Scharley snapped his fingers excitedly.</p> + +<p>"Brown stewed fish sweet and sour!" he almost shouted. "I ain't +smelled it since I was a boy already."</p> + +<p>He wagged his head and again murmured, "M-m-m-m-m!"</p> + +<p>Suddenly he received an inspiration.</p> + +<p>"How much did you say them shanties rents for, Mr. Williams?" he +said.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span>"Twenty dollars a month," Williams replied.</p> + +<p>"You don't tell me!" Scharley exclaimed solemnly. "I wonder if I +could give a look at the inside of one of 'em—this one here, for +instance."</p> + +<p>"I don't think there'd be any objection," Williams said, and no +sooner were the words out of his mouth than Scharley started off +on a half trot for the miniature veranda on the ocean side of the +little house.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I'd better inquire first if it's convenient for them to +let us in now," Williams said, as he bounded after his +prospective customer and knocked gently on the doorjamb. There +was a sound of scurrying feet within, and at length the door was +opened a few inches and the bewigged head of Mrs. Lesengeld +appeared in the crack.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nu</i>," she said, "what <i>is</i> it?"</p> + +<p>"I represent the Bognor Park Company," Williams replied, "and if +it's perfectly convenient for you, Mrs.——"</p> + +<p>"Lesengeld," she added.</p> + +<p>"Used to was Lesengeld & Schein in the pants business?" Scharley +asked, and Mrs. Lesengeld nodded.</p> + +<p>"Why, Lesengeld and me was lodge brothers together in the I. O. +M. A. before I went out to the Pacific Coast years ago already," +Scharley declared. "I guess he's often spoken to you about Jake +Scharley, ain't it?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span>"Maybe he did, Mr. Scharley, <i>aber</i> he's dead <i>schon</i> two years +since already," Mrs. Lesengeld said, and then added the pious +hope, "<i>olav hasholom</i>."</p> + +<p>"You don't say so," Scharley cried in shocked accents. "Why, he +wasn't no older as me already."</p> + +<p>"Fifty-three when he died," Mrs. Lesengeld said. "Quick diabetes, +Mr. Scharley. Wouldn't you step inside?"</p> + +<p>Scharley and Williams passed into the front room, which was used +as a living room and presented an appearance of remarkable +neatness and order. In the corner stood an oil stove on which two +saucepans bubbled and steamed, and as Mrs. Lesengeld turned to +follow her visitors one of the saucepans boiled over.</p> + +<p>"Oo-ee!" she exclaimed. "<i>Mein fisch.</i>"</p> + +<p>"Go ahead and tend to it," Scharley cried excitedly; "don't mind +us. It might get burned already."</p> + +<p>He watched her anxiously while she turned down the flame.</p> + +<p>"Brown stewed fish sweet and sour, ain't it?" he asked, and Mrs. +Lesengeld nodded as she lowered the flame to just the proper +height.</p> + +<p>"I <i>thought</i> it was," Scharley continued. "I ain't smelled it in +forty years already. My poor mother, <i>olav hasholom</i>, used to fix +it something elegant."</p> + +<p>He heaved a sigh as he sat down on a nearby campstool.</p> + +<p>"This smells just like it," he added. In front<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> of the window a +table had been placed, spread with a spotless white cloth and +laid for two persons, and Scharley glanced at it hastily and +turned his head away.</p> + +<p>"Forty years ago come next <i>Shevuos</i> I ain't tasted it already," +he concluded.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lesengeld coloured slightly and clutched at her apron in an +agony of embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"The fact is we only got three knives and forks," she said, +"otherwise there is plenty fish for everybody."</p> + +<p>"Why, we just had our lunch at the hotel before we started," Mr. +Williams said.</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> did," Scharley corrected him reproachfully, "<i>aber</i> I +ain't hardly touched a thing since last night. That shaving-dish +party pretty near killed me, already."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, we got just enough knives and forks," Mrs. Lesengeld +cried. "Do you like maybe also <i>Bortch</i>, Mr. Scharley?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Bortch!</i>" Mr. Scharley exclaimed, and his voice trembled with +excitement. "Do you mean a sort of soup <i>mit</i> beets and—and—all +that?"</p> + +<p>"That's it," Mrs. Lesengeld replied, and Scharley nodded his head +slowly.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Lesengeld," he said, "would you believe me, it's so long +since I tasted that stuff I didn't remember such a thing exists +even."</p> + +<p>"And do you like it?" Mrs. Lesengeld repeated.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span>"Do I <i>like</i> it!" Scharley cried. "<i>Um Gottes Willen</i>, Mrs. +Lesengeld, I <i>love</i> it."</p> + +<p>"Then sit right down," she said heartily. "Everything is ready."</p> + +<p>"If you don't mind, Mr. Scharley," Williams interrupted, "I'll +wait for you at the office of the company. It's only a couple of +hundred yards down the beach."</p> + +<p>"Go as far as you like, Mr. Williams," Scharley said as he tucked +a napkin between his collar and chin. "I'll be there when I get +through."</p> + +<p>After Mrs. Lesengeld had ushered out Mr. Williams, she proceeded +to the door of the rear room and knocked vigorously.</p> + +<p>"Don't be foolish, Yetta, and come on out," she called. "It ain't +nobody but an old friend of my husband's."</p> + +<p>A moment later Yetta entered the room, and Scharley scrambled to +his feet, a knife grasped firmly in one hand, and bobbed his head +cordially.</p> + +<p>"Pleased to meetcher," he said.</p> + +<p>"This is Mrs. Lubliner, Mr. Scharley," Mrs. Lesengeld said.</p> + +<p>"Don't make no difference, Mrs. Lesengeld," Scharley assured her, +"any friend of yours is a friend of mine, so you should sit right +down, Mrs. Lubliner, on account we are all ready to begin."</p> + +<p>Then followed a moment of breathless silence while Mrs. Lesengeld +dished up the beetroot soup,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> and when she placed a steaming +bowlful in front of Scharley he immediately plunged his spoon +into it. A moment later he lifted his eyes to the ceiling.</p> + +<p>"Oo-ee!" he exclaimed. "What an elegant soup!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lesengeld blushed, and after the fashion of a <i>cordon bleu</i> +the world over, she began to decry her own handiwork.</p> + +<p>"It should ought to got just a <i>Bisschen</i> more pepper into it," +she murmured.</p> + +<p>"<i>Oser a Stück</i>," Scharley declared solemnly, as he consumed the +contents of his bowl in great gurgling inhalations. "There's only +one thing I got to say against it."</p> + +<p>He scraped his bowl clean and handed it to Mrs. Lesengeld.</p> + +<p>"And that is," he concluded, "that it makes me eat so much of it, +understand me, I'm scared I wouldn't got no room for the brown +stewed fish."</p> + +<p>Again he emptied the bowl, and at last the moment arrived when +the brown stewed fish smoked upon the table. Mrs. Lesengeld +helped Scharley to a heaping plateful, and both she and Yetta +watched him intently, as with the deftness of a Japanese juggler +he balanced approximately a half pound of the succulent fish on +the end of his fork. For nearly a minute he blew on it, and when +it reached an edible temperature he opened wide his mouth and +thrust the fork load home. Slowly and with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> great smacking of his +moist lips he chewed away, and then his eyes closed and he laid +down his knife and fork.</p> + +<p>"<i>Gan-éden!</i>" he declared as he reached across the table and +shook hands with Mrs. Lesengeld.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Lesengeld," he said, "my mother <i>olav hasholom</i> was a good +<i>cook</i>, understand me, <i>aber</i> you are a <i>good cook</i>, Mrs. +Lesengeld, and that's all there is to it."</p> + +<p>Forthwith he resumed his knife and fork, and with only two pauses +for the necessary replenishments, he polished off three platefuls +of the fish, after which he heaved a great sigh of contentment, +and as a prelude to conversation he lit one of B. Gans' choicest +cigars.</p> + +<p>"There's some dessert coming," Mrs. Lesengeld said.</p> + +<p>"Dessert after this, Mrs. Lesengeld," he replied, through clouds +of contented smoke, "would be a sacrilege, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"That's something I couldn't make at all," Mrs. Lesengeld +admitted. "All I got it here is some <i>frimsel kugel</i>."</p> + +<p>"<i>Frimsel kugel!</i>" Scharley exclaimed, laying down his cigar. +"Why ain't you told me that before?"</p> + +<p>A quarter of an hour later he again lighted his cigar, and this +time he settled back in his campstool for conversation, while +Mrs. Lesengeld busied herself about the oil stove. Instantly, +however, he straight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span>ened up as another and more delicious odour +assailed his nostrils, for Mrs. Lesengeld made coffee by a +mysterious process, that conserved in the flavour of the +decoction the delicious fragrance of the freshly ground bean.</p> + +<p>"And are you staying down here with Mrs. Lesengeld?" Scharley +asked Yetta after he had finished his third cup.</p> + +<p>"In this little place here?" Mrs. Lesengeld cried indignantly. +"Well, I should say not. She's stopping at the Salisbury, ain't +you, Yetta?"</p> + +<p>Yetta nodded and sighed.</p> + +<p>"It ain't so comfortable as here," she said.</p> + +<p>"I bet yer," Scharley added fervently. "I am stopping there too, +and them Chinese Lantern Dinners which they are putting up!"</p> + +<p>He waved his hand eloquently.</p> + +<p>"Poison ain't no word for it, Missus Er——" he concluded lamely +as he tried to remember Yetta's name, which after so much soup, +fish and coffee had completely escaped him.</p> + +<p>"Lubliner," Yetta said. "I guess you know my husband, Mr. +Scharley, Elkan Lubliner of Polatkin, Scheikowitz & Company."</p> + +<p>Scharley struck the table with his open hand.</p> + +<p>"Zoitenly, I do," he cried. "Why, he is the feller which Sol +Klinger is telling me about."</p> + +<p>Yetta coloured slightly and bit her lips.</p> + +<p>"What did he tell you about him?" she asked.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span>"Why," Scharley said, drawing vigorously on his imagination, "he +says to me what a bright young feller he is and——"</p> + +<p>Here he reflected that in a highly competitive trade like the +cloak and suit business this statement sounded a trifle +exaggerated.</p> + +<p>"And," he went on hurriedly, "he told me how he saw you and him +with Mrs. Lesengeld up at the hotel the other evening, and I +says, 'What,' I says, 'you don't mean Mrs. Lesengeld whose +husband used to was in the pants business?' and he said he didn't +know, 'because,' I says, 'if that's the same party,' I says, 'I +would like for her to come up to the hotel and take dinner with +me some time,' I says."</p> + +<p>He smiled cordially at Mrs. Lesengeld.</p> + +<p>"And I hope you will," he concluded earnestly, "to-morrow night +sure."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lesengeld shook her head.</p> + +<p>"I ain't fixed to go to no swell hotel," she demurred. "I ain't +got no clothes nor nothing."</p> + +<p>"What do you care about clothes, Mrs. Lesengeld?" Scharley +protested.</p> + +<p>"And besides," Yetta said with sudden inspiration, "we could get +up a little chafing-dish dinner in our room, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"For that matter we could do it in my room," Scharley cried, as +there sounded a vigorous knocking on the outside of the door +leading to the veranda, and a moment later Williams entered.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span>"Excuse me, Mr. Scharley," he said, "but I have to be getting +back to the hotel and if you're quite through we'll go and look +at that map of the lots down in the office."</p> + +<p>Scharley waved his hand airily.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, Mr. Williams," he said, "and drink the cup of coffee +of your life."</p> + +<p>He handed the room clerk a cigar.</p> + +<p>"I could promise you one thing, Mr. Williams," he went on, "I got +a great idee of buying some lots here and building a little house +on 'em, <i>gemütlich</i> just like this, and if I do, Williams, I +would take them lots from you for certain sure. Only one thing, +Williams, I want you to do me for a favour."</p> + +<p>He paused and puffed carefully on his cigar.</p> + +<p>"I want you to pick me out a couple good vacant rooms on the top +floor of the Salisbury for Saturday night," he said, "where I +could give a shaving-dish party, so if any of the guests of the +hotel objects, understand me, they wouldn't get the smell of the +<i>Bortch</i>, coffee, and brown stewed fish sweet and sour."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>On the following Wednesday afternoon Elkan sat at his desk, while +Marcus Polatkin and Philip Scheikowitz leaned over his left +shoulder and right shoulder respectively, and watched carefully +the result of a pencilled addition which Elkan was making.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span>"With them crêpe meteors," Elkan said at last, "Scharley's order +comes to four thousand three hundred dollars."</p> + +<p>Polatkin and Scheikowitz nodded in unison.</p> + +<p>"It ain't bad for a start," Scheikowitz volunteered as he sat +down and lit a cigar.</p> + +<p>"For a finish, neither," Polatkin added, "so far as that's +concerned."</p> + +<p>Elkan wheeled round in his chair and grinned delightedly.</p> + +<p>"And you ought to seen Sol Klinger when we walked into the +Hanging Gardens," he said. "He got white like a sheet. It tickled +Scharley to death, and he went right to work and put his arm +through Mrs. Lesengeld's arm and took her right down to the +middle table, like she would be a queen already."</p> + +<p>"Sure," Scheikowitz agreed, "what does a real merchant like +Scharley care if she would wear a <i>sheitel oder</i> not, so long as +she is a lady already."</p> + +<p>Elkan's grin spread until it threatened to engulf his ears.</p> + +<p>"She didn't wear no <i>sheitel</i>," he said.</p> + +<p>"What!" Scheikowitz cried. "I didn't think a religious woman like +Mrs. Lesengeld would take off her <i>sheitel</i> at <i>her</i> time of +life."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean <i>her</i> time of life?" Elkan cried indignantly. +"Friday afternoon yet before Yetta<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> went home from her place +there at Bognor Park, Mrs. Lesengeld says to her that a widder +don't got to wear no <i>sheitel</i> if she don't want to, which if you +think, Mr. Scheikowitz, that fifty-three is a time of life, +understand me, I think differencely, especially when I seen her +with her hair all fixed up on Saturday night."</p> + +<p>"Who fixed it?" Marcus Polatkin asked, and Elkan grinned again.</p> + +<p>"Who d'ye suppose?" he replied. "Why, her and Yetta spent pretty +near an hour up in our room before they got through, and I tell +yer with the way they turned up the hem and fixed the sleeves of +one of Yetta's black dresses, it fitted her like it would be made +for her."</p> + +<p>"And did she look good in it?" Scheikowitz inquired.</p> + +<p>"Did she look good in it!" Elkan exclaimed. "Well, you can just +bet your life, Mr. Polatkin, that there Hortense Feldman wasn't +one, two, six with her. In fact, Mr. Polatkin, you would take +your oath already that there wasn't two years between 'em. I had +a good chance to compare 'em on account when we went down to the +Hanging Gardens, understand me, Miss Feldman sits at the next +table already."</p> + +<p>Polatkin smiled broadly.</p> + +<p>"She must have had a big <i>Schreck</i>," he commented. "Why, B. Gans +told me last Saturday<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> that Henry D. Feldman thinks that he's +going to fix the whole thing up between her and Scharley."</p> + +<p>"I guess he ain't got that idee no longer," Elkan declared, +"because everybody in Egremont knows Scharley was down visiting +Mrs. Lesengeld over Sunday, and takes her and her daughter Fannie +and Fannie's husband out oitermobiling."</p> + +<p>"You don't tell me?" Scheikowitz exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Furthermore, on Monday," Elkan continued, "he goes down there to +dinner with me and Yetta, and Mrs. Lesengeld cooks some +<i>Tebeches</i> which fairly melts in your mouth already."</p> + +<p>He smacked his lips over the recollection.</p> + +<p>"Yesterday, as you know," he went on, "I took Scharley and Mrs. +Lesengeld over to Coney Island in an oitermobile and to-night yet +we are all going sailing on Egremont Bay."</p> + +<p>Polatkin rose to his feet and shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "why not? They're about the same age."</p> + +<p>"He's two years older as she is," Elkan declared, "and I bet yer +they wouldn't lose no time. It'll be next fall sure."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>One busy morning three months later Elkan ripped open a heavy +cream-laid envelope and drew out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> the following announcement, +engraved in shaded old English type:</p> + +<div class="cardnobdr"> +<span class="size75">Mrs. Fannie Stubin<br /> +has the honor of announcing the marriage<br /> +of her mother</span> +<br /> +<br /> +Mrs. Sarah Lesengeld<br /> +<span class="size75">to</span><br /> +Mr. Jacob Scharley<br /> +<br /> +<span class="size75">On Tuesday the first of October<br /> +at San Francisco, California</span> +</div> + +<p>"And what are we going to send them for a present?" Polatkin +asked.</p> + +<p>Elkan smiled serenely.</p> + +<p>"A solid silver chafing dish," he replied without hesitation, "at +the very least, big enough to hold five pounds of brown stewed +fish sweet and sour."</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="size75"><br /><br />THE END</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 115px"> +<img src="images/printermark.jpg" width="115" height="105" alt="Printer's Mark" title="Printer's Mark" /> +</div> + +<div class="center"> +<span class="smcap">The Country Life Press</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Garden City, N. Y.</span> +</div> + +<div class="tnote"> +<h3>Transcriber's Note:</h3> + +<p>The 1912 edition of this text contains numerous words and phrases +with variant spellings. For the most part these variations have +been retained to maintain the flavor of the original text, and +only obvious spelling and puncuation errors have been corrected, +as detailed below. A few changes have also been made with +formatting of punctuation for text consistency.</p> + +<p>The name of character Kent J. Goldenfein, who is introduced on +pages 142-145, changes on page 210 to Kent J. "Goldstein" and +subsequently remains "Goldstein" for the remainder of the story. +This inconsistency has been retained to match the 1912 text.</p> + +<p><br />Typographical Corrections:</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_4">Page 4</a>. Added close-quotes. ("... Yosel to come to America.")</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_10">Page 10</a>. Removed close-quotes. (threshold of the cutting room.)</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_14">Page 14</a>. Changed question mark to comma. ("He is in Minsk," said +young Borrochson.)</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_27">Page 27</a>. Changed "de,manded" to "demanded". (Philip demanded.)</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_27">Page 27</a>. Changed "jerred" to "jeered". (Philip jeered.)</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_37">Page 37</a>. Removed close-quotes. (Polatkin rose to his feet.)</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_50">Page 50</a>. Added period. (the tops of her powdered cheeks.)</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_64">Page 64</a>. Changed "Scheikowizt" to "Scheikowitz". (Scheikowitz +protested.)</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_87">Page 87</a>. Changed "Sheikowitz" to "Scheikowitz". ("... Mr. +Scheikowitz, so sure as I am sitting here....")</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_91">Page 91</a>. Added open-quotes. ("I suppose, Elkan, you are +wondering....")</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_92">Page 92</a>. Changed "Poltakin" to "Polatkin". ("... Flixman's store?" +Polatkin asked.)</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_97">Page 97</a>. Changed "Mr" to "Mr." ("... right buying idee, Mr. +Kapfer....")</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_152">Page 152</a>. Removed close-quotes. (begun at dinner that evening.)</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_153">Page 153</a>. Added close-quotes. ("... oder Schwefel & Zucker.")</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_153">Page 153</a>. Changed "Kolbin's" to "Koblin's". (Max Koblin's house)</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_182">Page 182</a>. Removed end-quotes. (to make further inquiries.)</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_199">Page 199</a>. Added close-quotes. ("What time do you eat dinner?")</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_225">Page 225</a>. Changed "tansactions" to "transactions". (all +real-estate transactions involving)</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_241">Page 241</a>. Added close-quotes. ("... the other fellow's case.")</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_263">Page 263</a>. Added period. ("... makes up his mind yet.")</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_279">Page 279</a>. Added period. (his high, piping voice.)</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_281">Page 281</a>. Added comma. ("If we didn't," he continued....)</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_294">Page 294</a>. Added close-quotes. ("... for a couple of months.")</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_295">Page 295</a>. Changed "deprecatio" to "deprecation." (gesture of +deprecation.)</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_312">Page 312</a>. Corrected open-quotes. ("Brown stewed fish....")</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_317">Page 317</a>. Added close-quotes. ("... Scheikowitz & Company.")</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_320">Page 320</a>. Added close-quotes. ("... three hundred dollars.")</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Elkan Lubliner, American, by Montague Glass + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELKAN LUBLINER, AMERICAN *** + +***** This file should be named 27423-h.htm or 27423-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/4/2/27423/ + +Produced by C. 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