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Updated: June 5, 2025
Goldberg's plump, bejeweled fingers and put into Mr. Goldberg's pocketbook, Mr. Goldberg remarked: "You say you can't use the ship?" "No; the land. I'm surprised to find that the land goes with the ship." "Why, it doesn't," said Mr. Goldberg. "It's the ship that goes with the land. She was on the land when I bought the plot, and I just left her there. Nobody's paid any attention to her for years."
I was sincerely glad to hear this, even though I could not get M. Goldberg to explain in what that exemplary punishment consisted. The climax came at six o'clock of that eventful afternoon, at the hour when I, with the newly-enthroned Mme. Ratichon on my arm, was about to take leave of M. Goldberg. I must admit that at that moment my heart was overflowing with bitterness.
Rachel Goldberg had finished four dozen of extra-fine garments, which meant seventy-five cents, and it was not yet eleven o'clock. She would make at least one dollar and sixty cents before the day was over, provided we did not have any serious breakdowns.
The words "on the land" grated on Cleggett. "You mean on the water, don't you?" "In the mud, then," suggested Mr. Goldberg. "But she'll sail all right," said Cleggett. "I suppose if she was decorated up with sails and things she'd sail. Figuring on sailing her anywhere in particular?" Subtly irritated, Cleggett answered: "Oh, no, no! Not anywhere in particular!" "Going to live on her this summer?
What should she say to her serene highness? What kind of a curtsy should she make? These and a hundred other questions flitted through her head. At least she would wear no humble, servile air. For Gretchen was a bit of a socialist. Did not Herr Goldberg, whom the police detested, did he not say that all men were equal? And surely this sweeping statement included women!
Denton stood still and listened. A large pile of "ready-made" garments lay upon a convenient table, and as the buyer talked, he held them up for examination. "I find I can get this grade of goods from a man named Finckelstein for ten cents less per garment than I have been getting them from Goldberg. They are very well made, and the quality is satisfactory.
They knew it was only here that great things happened, the division of riches and mob-rule. Beer was cheaper by the keg. The noise subsided. Gretchen spoke. "Her serene highness will not marry the king of Jugendheit." Every head swung round in her direction. "What is that you say?" demanded Herr Goldberg. Gretchen repeated her statement.
"Strange?" echoed Herr Goldberg, becoming furious at having the interest in himself thus diverted. "Since when did goose-girls and barmaids become on intimate terms with her serene highness?" Gretchen pressed the vintner's arm to hold him in his chair. "Does not your socialism teach that we are all equal?" The vintner thumped with his stein in approval, and others imitated him.
His jagdschloss or shooting-lodge consists of a handsome Norwegian block house, brought from Norway, and erected on the Goldberg on the left bank of the Rominten River.
Bernstein, Goldberg and Baun, of Providence, wholesale dealers in stationery, cards and novelties. The time was August, but Mr. Kron, the drummer, was already booking orders for the Christmas season. His samples were displayed upon the counter and he and Mary-'Gusta were deep in conversation. "That's what you ought to have," declared Mr. Kron, with enthusiasm.
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