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Updated: May 26, 2025
Twenty years since already I used to eat by Gifkin's on Canal Street, and one day Max Koblin comes in and says to me, 'Abe, he says, 'I want you should drink a bottle tchampanyer wine on me. In them days Max works for old man Zudosky selling boys' reefers. Raincoats was like oitermobiles; no one had discovered 'em yet. 'What's the matter, Max? I says.
"Nowadays, if a feller wants to make a success he must got to wear good clothes and look like a mensch, y'understand? It never harms in business, Shapolnik, that a feller should throw sometimes, oncet in a while, a little bluff." Between the ages of sixteen and twenty Sidney Koblin had so often tested the maxim, "Boys will be boys," that Max Koblin's patience at length became exhausted.
With my own eyes I seen it, Mawruss; and his father looks on and don't say nothing." "What does Max Koblin care for forty dollars, Abe?" Morris said. "The feller's a millionaire. He's got ten pages of advertising in the Cloak and Suit Monthly Gazette. I bet yer he spends more as forty dollars for one page already. Wait; I'll show it to you."
It was some weeks before Abe could bring himself to recount to Morris the full details of Sidney Koblin's regeneration, but Morris had learned the facts long before there appeared in the advertising section of the Clothing and Haberdashery Magazine the following full-page advertisement: KATZBERG, SCHAPP & KOBLIN Announce the OPENING OF THEIR NEW OFFICE AND SHOWROOM In the Chicksaw Building, West 4th Street, New York MAKERS OF TROUSERS FOR FINICKY FOLKS
"If nobody would tell that feller Koblin what a lowlife bum he got it for a son, Mawruss," he said as he entered the firm's private office ten minutes later, "I will. Actually with my own eyes I seen it the feller eats for five dollars a lunch, and he ain't with a customer nor nothing." "What is it your business what Sidney Koblin is eating, Abe?" Morris rejoined.
"Katzberg," he said, "them samples you are working on we got to show the Magnet Store this afternoon yet." Katzberg shrugged his shoulders and returned to his pressing, while Shapolnik drew forward two rickety chairs and a packing-box. "Have a seat, Mr. Potash; and Mr. Cohen, too," he said. "Koblin," Abe corrected. "Koblin," Shapolnik repeated. "Excuse me."
"Seemingly not," Abe rejoined; "but, just the same, if you will take on this young feller for a salesman I would give you a guarantirt that I will make good all you would lose on him for the first three months. Is my word good enough?" "Sure, it is!" Shapolnik cried. "When would you come to work by us, Mr. Koblin?"
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