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Updated: May 11, 2025
"So, Abe," he commenced, "you are giving to a Schnorrer like Geigermann a genu-ine who's-this violin, which it is worth three thousand dollars!" "How should I know it is worth three thousand?" Abe said. "Everybody knows that one of them genu-ine feller's violins is worth three thousand dollars," Morris thundered. "I'm surprised to hear you, you should talk that way."
So what's the use talking, Abe? Only one thing we got to do. We got to find a feller which he could right away tell whether the fiddle is oder not is genu-ine just by looking at it, y'understand. This feller we got to send up to Geigermann's house to look at the fiddle to-night yet, and if he says the fiddle is, Abe, then we would take it back.
"What d'ye mean, sour milk, Mawruss?" Abe retorted. "The sour milk is all on your side, Mawruss, because I am telling you it was a genu-ine Amati." "All right, Abe," Morris said, as he rang for the elevator; "you told me that schon twenty times already. I wouldn't give you two dollars for all them genu-ine fellers' fiddles in creation; and that's all there is to it."
"So, this morning, in the paper," Abe continued, "Mawruss reads you are buying for three thousand dollars a fiddle and " "But, Abe," Felix interrupted, "it was a genuine Amati." "Sure, I know," Abe said; "but yesterday I myself am bringing you a genu-ine Amati and I didn't pay no such figure for it."
Once more Aaron Shellak was entertaining the cutting-room staff with a pianissimo rendition of Godard's Berceuse; but even as Abe tiptoed across the showroom to crush the performance with an explosive "Koosh!" the melody ceased. "That's a genu-ine Amati," Aaron said, "and you could see for yourself inside here is the label." Abe stopped short.
What do I care if the fiddle is or it ain't one of them genu-ine Who's This's? Once you give a thing you give a thing, ain't it? And I don't care what experts says nor nothing." Felix Geigermann blushed. When Emil Pilz had called on him the night before he had scented the object of the visit and had exhibited not Abe's gift but the Karanyi Amati.
"Might you are mistaken maybe, Abe," Morris broke in. "Might the fiddle ain't genu-ine." "What d'ye mean, ain't genu-ine? I am telling you the label was inside and even the lot number is the same." "The lot number?" "Sure, the lot number.
"It's genu-ine all right," he at length admitted grudgingly. "I knew it was!" cried Nellie, her miserable suspicions put at rest. "Well, you'd better spend it quick and get some good of it before old Joe comes back and wants the change!" advised Mr. Shrimplin. "What does he say?" questioned Mrs. Shrimplin. "He don't say a word, there was nothing but the bill."
"So, then, I am paying fifteen dollars for a fiddle which it is a genu-ine Amati," he said, "and that brother of mine which he ain't got no more sense as a lunatic lets it go for a song already." "Well, I couldn't stop to talk to you now, Louis," Emil said. "I must got to get on the job.
"I should never stir from this spot, Louis, if that ain't an Amati. It's got a tone like gold, Louis." For a brief interval Louis stared at his informant. "Do you mean to told me, Emil, that that fiddle is a real, genu-ine Amati?" "Listen here to me, Louis," Emil declared; "if I wouldn't be sure that it was genu-ine why should I got such a heart that I would act that way to that feller Potash?
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