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"For my part, you can call him Andrew Carnegie," he said; "only, let's not stand here talking about it all day, Abe. I see by the paper this morning that Marcus Bramson, from Syracuse, is at the Prince William Hotel, Abe, and you says you was going up to see him. That's your style, Abe: an old-fashion feller like Marcus Bramson.
"Hello!" he exclaimed, a great smile of relief spreading itself about his ears. "It's a wedding invitation!" He held it up to the light. "'Mr. and Mrs. Marcus Bramson," he read, "'request the pleasure of Potash & Perlmutter's company at the marriage of their daughter Tillie to Mr. Hyman Maimin, Sunday, March 19, at seven o'clock, P.M., Wiedermayer's Hall, 2099 South Oswego Street.
Two days later, Abe Potash spotted the name of Marcus Bramson in the "Arrival of Buyers" column of a morning newspaper. "Mawruss," he cried, "he's come!" "Who's come?" Morris asked. "Marcus Bramson," Abe replied, reaching for his hat. "I'm going over to the Bingler House now to meet him. You wait here till I come back. I bet you we sell him a big bill of goods!"
Bramson," Abe protested, "did I ever done you something that you should talk that way?" "Me you never done nothing to, Abe," said Mr. Bramson, "but to treat a lady what is a lady, Abe, like a dawg, Abe, I must say it I'm surprised. "I never treated no lady like a dawg, Mr. Bramson," Abe replied. "You must be mistaken." "Well, maybe it wasn't you, Abe," Mr.
I took Miss Atkinson up to the Heatherbloom Inn, and it costed me thirty dollars, Abe, including a cigar, which I wouldn't charge you nothing for." "Charge me nothing!" Abe cried. "Of course you wouldn't charge me nothing. You wouldn't charge me nothing, Mr. Bramson, because I wouldn't pay you nothing. I didn't ask you to take Miss Atkinson out in an oitermobile." "I know you didn't, Abe," Mr.
Bramson replied firmly, "but either you will pay for it or I will go over to Lapidus & Elenbogen's and they will pay for it. They'll be only too glad to pay for it, Abe, because I bet yer Miss Atkinson she give 'em a pretty big order already, Abe." Abe frowned and then shrugged. "All right," he said; "if I must I must. So come on now, Mr. Bramson, and look over the line."
Bramson murmured a few words to the youthfully-dressed person at his side, and she glared venomously at Morris, who precipitately followed his companion to the automobile. Five minutes afterward he was chatting with the lady as they sped along Riverside Drive. "Duluth must be a fine town," he suggested. "It is indeed," the lady agreed. "I have some relatives living there."
"Did you seen Marcus Bramson?" Morris asked. "Sure I seen him," said Abe; "he's coming down here at half-past three o'clock this afternoon. You needn't trouble yourself about him, Mawruss." Abe hung up his hat, while Morris and Ralph Tuchman once more fell to the work of comparing the statements.
"Relations you don't take it to expensive places like the Heatherbloom Inn, Abe," Morris replied. "And, anyhow, this wasn't no relation, Abe; this was a lady. Why should a man blush for a relation, ain't it?" "Did he blush?" Abe asked; but the question remained unanswered, for as Morris was about to reply the store door opened and Marcus Bramson entered. "Ah, Mr.
Bramson," Abe went on, "that's one fine gentleman, Mawruss. He ain't what you'd call a close buyer, neither, Mawruss." "No?" Morris commented. "The way I figure it," Abe continued, "reckoning on what we lost by Hyman Maimin, if he settles for thirty cents, and what we make out of Mr. Bramson's first order, we come out even to the dollar!" "So?" Morris murmured.
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