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"Is he?" Morris Perlmutter replied. "Well, he don't look it when I seen him in the Harlem Winter Garden last night, Abe. Him and Mrs. Kotzen was eating a family porterhouse between 'em with tchampanyer wine yet." "Well, Mawruss," Abe said, "he needs it tchampanyer wine, Mawruss.
Morris shook his head. "I wish they was," he croaked. "You wish they was!" Abe repeated in accents of amazement. "What d'ye mean?" "Somebody pinched 'em on me," Morris replied. "What!" Abe shouted. "S-sh," Morris hissed as the door opened. It was Hymie Kotzen who entered. "Well, boys," he cried, "every cloud is silver-plated. Ain't it?
Two weeks sped quickly by, during which Morris safeguarded the diamonds with the utmost zest and enjoyment, and at length the settling day arrived. Morris was superintending the unpacking of piece goods in the cutting-room when Abe darted upstairs. "Mawruss," he hissed, "Hymie Kotzen is downstairs."
Give me some gedämpftes Kalbfleisch mit Kartoffelklösse." "Right away quick, Mr. Potash," said Louis, starting to hurry away. "Ain't I nobody here, Louis?" cried a bass voice at the table behind Abe. "Do I sit here all day?" "Ex-cuse me, Mr. Kotzen," Louis exclaimed. "Some nice roast chicken to-day, Mr. Kotzen?" "I'll tell you what I want it, Louis, not you me," Mr. Kotzen grunted.
Moreover he had consulted a lawyer, the eminent Henry D. Feldman, and had received no consolation either on the score of the barber's liability to Potash & Perlmutter or of his own liability to Kotzen. "Well, Mawruss," Abe said, "how much are them diamonds worth?" Then he looked up and for the first time saw his partner's haggard face. "Holy smokes!" he cried. "They're winder-glass."
"Hyman Kotzen and Potash & Perlmutter agrees it that one thousand dollars what he lent it off of them should not be returned for three months from date, no interest nor nothing. And also, that Potash & Perlmutter should not give up the diamonds, neither. "That's all right," Hymie said. He folded the paper into his pocketbook and turned to Morris.
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