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Updated: May 2, 2025
Some joke you people playin' on me?" He shot a suspicious glance from one to another of us. "No," said Mary, "he's real. Honest to God!" "Oh! You bring him for an engagement. Vell, I don't do no business outside my office. Send him to see Lipsky in de mornin'." "He hasn't asked for an engagement," said Mary. "Oh, he ain't. Vell, vot's he hangin' about for? Been gittin' a permanent vave?
I did want to spend the night in the cabinet of Isaiah Savvich, but it's a pity to lose such a splendid morning. I'm thinking of taking a bath, and then I'll get on a steamer and ride to the Lipsky monastery to a certain tippling black friar I know. But why?" "I would ask you to remain a little while and sit the others out. I must have a very important word or two with you." "It's a go."
At the Imperial Hotel they kindly relieved me of my knapsack and overcoat, and advised me to come back at eight or nine at night there might be a room then. Meanwhile I should continue seeking. So the Cracowsky was tried, and the Lipsky, once Leipzig, and the Adlon and the Pretoria, and many another haunt of mice and men. Then I returned to the Imperial for the second time. No, there was no room.
Vot's his address? And Lipsky, he says, says he, 'Dey tell me he stays in a place called Vestminster Abbey, in England. 'Vell, says I, 'send him a cablegram and find out vot he'll take fer an exclusive contract. So we sent a cablegram to Charles Dickens, Vestminster Abbey, England, and we didn't git no answer, and come to find out, de boys in de studios vas havin' a laugh on old Abey, because dis guy Dickens is some old time feller, and de Abbey is vere dey got his bones.
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