We done it always a good business with them fixtures, Abe." "Yes, Mawruss, and we also lose it a good customer by 'em, too," Abe rejoined. "You know as well as I do that after one-eye Feigenbaum, of the H. F. Cloak Company, run into that big rack over by the door and busted his nose we couldn't sell him no more goods." "Was it the rack's fault that Henry Feigenbaum only got one eye, Abe?"
Abe grunted inarticulately and handed a match to Feigenbaum, who lit his cigar, a fine imported one, and blew out great clouds of smoke with every evidence of appreciative enjoyment. "Where's Rifkin?" he inquired between puffs. Abe shook his head and smiled. "You got to ask me something easier than that, Mr. Feigenbaum," he murmured. "What d'ye mean?" Feigenbaum cried, jumping to his feet.
Feigenbaum," he said in shaking tones, "do you see something down there?" Mr. Feigenbaum examined the woodwork closely. "Yes, Abe," he answered. "I see it that some loafer has been striking matches on it, but it's been all fixed up so that you wouldn't notice nothing." "S'enough," Abe cried. "I'm much obliged to you." In silence Abe and Morris ushered Mr.
Morris cried. "Anyhow, Abe, when a feller got a nose like Henry Feigenbaum, Abe, he's liable to knock it against most any thing, Abe; so you couldn't blame it on the fixtures."
"We m " Abe commenced "that is to say, I come up here to see a party. I bet yer we're going to the same place, Mr. Feigenbaum." "Maybe," Mr. Feigenbaum grunted. "Sixth floor, hey?" Abe cried jocularly, slapping Mr. Feigenbaum on the shoulder. Mr. Feigenbaum's right eye assumed the glassy stare which was permanent in his left. "What business is that from yours, Potash?" he asked. "Excuse me, Mr.
In the meantime Abe went out to lunch, and when he entered the building on his return a familiar, bulky figure preceded him into the doorway. "Hallo!" Abe cried, and the bulky figure stopped and turned around. "Hallo yourself!" he said. "You don't know me, Mr. Feigenbaum," Abe went on. "Why, how d'ye do, Mr. Potash?" Feigenbaum exclaimed. "What brings you way uptown here?"
Abe flashed a triumphant grin on Morris, who frowned in reply. "But ain't this here desk that now what-yer-call-it mahogany, too, Mr. Feigenbaum?" Morris asked. "Well, it's Costa Rica mahogany, all right," Feigenbaum said, "but it's got a flaw into it." "A flaw?" Morris and Abe exclaimed with one voice. "Sure," Mr. Feigenbaum continued.
Feigenbaum," Abe cried, dragging forward a comfortable, padded seat, into which Feigenbaum sank with a sigh. "I wish we could get it furniture like this up in Bridgetown," Feigenbaum said. "A one-horse place like Bridgetown you can't get nothing there. Everything you got to come to New York for. We are dead ones in Bridgetown. We don't know nothing and we don't learn nothing." "That's right, Mr.
"A sucker what takes from us a good customer like Henry Feigenbaum should of busted up long since already. But that ain't the point, Abe. If we're going to get it fixtures, we don't want no second-hand articles." "They ain't no second-hand articles, Mawruss," Abe explained. "They're pretty near brand-new, and I got a particular reason why we should buy them fixtures, Mawruss."
Feigenbaum said solemnly. "Sure not," Abe agreed. "But come and look around our loft. We just moved in here, and everything we got it is new fixtures and garments as well." "I guess you must excuse me. I ain't got much time to spare," Mr. Feigenbaum declared. "I got to get along and buy my stuff." Abe sprang to his feet. "Buy it here!" he cried.