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Morris asked. "It ain't a show exactly," Abe replied hastily; "it's a prize-fight." "A fight!" Morris cried. "That's an idea, ain't it? to take a customer to a fight." "I know it, Mawruss," Abe rejoined, "but you got to remember that the customer's name is also Burke. What for a show did you buy it tickets for?" Morris blushed. "Travvy-ayter," he murmured. "Travvy-ayter!" Abe replied.
"Do you mean to tell me you got the nerve to actually bring this feller into mein place yet?" "Do I got to get your permission, Abe, I should bring who I want to into my own place?" Morris rejoined. "Then all I got to say is you should take him right out again," Abe said. "I wouldn't have no ganévim in my place. Once and for all, Mawruss, I am telling you I wouldn't stand for your nonsense.
Once more they fell to their task of assorting and packing the major part of Garfunkel's order, and by six o'clock over fifteen hundred dollars' worth of goods was ready for delivery. "We'll ship them to-morrow," Abe said, as they commenced to lock up for the night, "and don't forget about that girl, Mawruss."
Together they took the elevator to the eighth floor and, as Ignatz Kresnick dealt the cards for the five-hundredth time in that game, all unconscious of his fast-approaching Nemesis, Mozart Rabiner played the concluding measures of the Liebestod softly, slowly, like a benediction: Ertrinken Versinken Unbewusst Höchste Lust. "Who do you think I seen it in Hammersmith's just now, Mawruss?"
What's more, Abe, I'm going to get Feinstein on the 'phone right away and find out who did buy 'em." He went to the telephone immediately and rang up Henry D. Feldman's office. "Hallo, Mr. Feinstein," he said, after the connection had been made. "This is Mawruss Perlmutter, of Potash & Perlmutter. You know them fixtures what H. Rifkin had it?" "I sure do," Feinstein replied.
Geigermann says it was stuck in there three hundred years ago, when the fiddle was made. And you ought to see Moe Rabiner, Mawruss. He looks at that fiddle for pretty near half an hour. He turns it upside down and he blows into it and he takes his finger and wets it and rubs on it, and he smells it, and Gott weiss what he don't do with it." "He's a dangerous feller, Abe," Morris commented.
Ain't it?" "Is that so?" Abe said. "I thought Klinger was such a good friend to us, Mawruss. Also, Mawruss, you say yourself on Saturday that a feller what's got an oitermobile is a crook yet." "Me!" Morris cried indignantly. "I never said no such thing, Abe. Always you got to twist around what I say, Abe. What I told you was " "S'all right, Mawruss," Abe said. "I'll take your word for it.
"Geigermann says he would go half," Morris said. "Sure, I know, Mawruss; but just because Geigermann acts like a sucker, Mawruss, why should we get ourselves into it too? Furthermore, Mawruss, how do we know Geigermann would go half? He's that kind of feller, Mawruss, that when he says something he don't take it so particular he should stick to it, Mawruss.
Might you could sell her some goods maybe." "Yow!" Abe exclaimed derisively. "We couldn't sell that woman goods, not if we was to let her have 'em for the price of the findings, Mawruss. She's got an idee that she is getting stuck unless she would buy goods from the same concerns that sold Gladstein." "Well, if that's the case, Abe," Morris said, "she could never make no big success there.
"Never mind, supposing they wouldn't be stabbers even, Mawruss," he continued, "if you got working for you an Italiener which you just broke in good, y'understand, so soon as he saves a couple hundred dollars he right away quits you and goes back to the old country.
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