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"Well, Mawruss," Abe said, as he finished reading the letter, "I'm sorry to get this letter. I don't know what I could tell it him about this fellow Immerglick. Now, if it was a responsible concern like Henry Feigenbaum, of the H. F. Cloak Company, it would be different." "Henry Feigenbaum!" Morris exclaimed. "Why, he's only got one eye."

"Say, lookyhere, Mawruss," Abe exploded; "I just told it you Max Kirschner only gets that order from Henry Feigenbaum because he takes pity on him." "What d'ye mean, pity?" Morris retorted. "I seen Max Kirschner in the subway this morning and he looks like he needs pity, Abe. He's got diamonds stuck on him like a pawnbroker's window." "That's all right, Mawruss," Abe continued.

He seized Feigenbaum by the arm and propelled him over to the sample line of skirts, behind which Morris cowered. "Look at them goods," Abe said. "One or two of them styles would be leaders for H. Rifkin. For us, all them different styles is our ordinary line."

Feigenbaum," Abe cried, "and you see that here we got it a fine new line of fixtures." "Not so good as what Rifkin carried," Feigenbaum said. "Rifkin carried fine fixtures, Mr. Feigenbaum," Abe admitted, "but not so fine as what we got. We got it everything up to date. You couldn't bump your nose here, not if you was to get down on your hands and knees and try." "I wouldn't do it," Mr.

"Well, the fixtures what you was carrying at one time, Potash, I wouldn't give 'em junk room neither," Feigenbaum declared. "You're lucky I didn't sue you in the courts yet for busting my nose against that high rack of yours. I ain't never recovered from that accident what I had in your place, Potash. I got it catarrh yet, I assure you." "Accidents could happen with the best regulations, Mr.

"Ain't you heard it yet?" Abe asked. "I ain't heard nothing," Feigenbaum exclaimed. "Then sit down and I'll tell you all about it," Abe said. Feigenbaum sat down again. "You mean to tell me you ain't heard it nothing about Rifkin?" Abe went on. "Do me the favor, Potash, and spit it out," Feigenbaum broke in impatiently. "Well, Rifkin run away," Abe announced. "Run away!"

He opened the outer door of Potash & Perlmutter's loft with such rapidity that there was no time for Feigenbaum to decipher the sign on its ground-glass panel, and the next moment they stood before the green-baize swinging doors. "After you, Mr. Feigenbaum," Abe said. He followed his late customer up the passageway between the mahogany partitions, into the show-room. "Take a chair, Mr.

In turn, he displayed the rest of the firm's line and exercised his faculties of persuasion, argument and flattery to such good purpose that in less than an hour Feigenbaum had bought three thousand dollars' worth of garments, deliveries to be made within ten days. "And now, Mr. Feigenbaum," Abe said, "I want you to look around our place.

He thrust Feigenbaum into the revolving chair that he had just vacated, and took the box of gilt-edge customers' cigars out of the safe. "Throw away that butt and take a fresh cigar," he exclaimed, handing Feigenbaum a satiny Invincible with the broad band of the best Havana maker on it. Feigenbaum received it with a smile, for he was now completely thawed out.

Feigenbaum," Abe said. "You got to come to New York to get the latest wrinkles about everything." With one comprehensive motion he drew forward a chair for himself and waved a warning to Morris, who ducked behind a rack of cloaks in the rear of the show-room. "You make yourself to home here, Potash, I must say," Feigenbaum observed.