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Updated: May 23, 2025
Mike, you go up and ask my little girl Masie if she can find dot big tureen vich I bought from old Mrs. Blobbs who keeps dot old-clothes place on Second Avenue. And you vas sure about dis china?" "Very sure." "How do you know?" "From the mark." "Vot's it vorth?" "The cups and saucers would bring about two pounds apiece in London.
Carter would have retreated, but he had gone too far. Masie confronted him behind her counter with a questioning look in eyes as coldly, beautifully, warmly blue as the glint of summer sunshine on an iceberg drifting in Southern seas. And then Irving Carter, painter, millionaire, etc., felt a warm flush rise to his aristocratically pale face. But not from diffidence.
The time-honored custom of all birthday parties entailing upon the invited the giving of presents as proof of affection, was not, he hinted gently, to be observed upon this occasion. "It is Masie who is to give the presents," he whispered, holding her closer, "and not her guests." The child at first had protested.
These inspections and comments over, and that peculiar timidity which comes over certain classes lifted out of their customary environment and doing their best to become accustomed to new surroundings having begun to wear away under the tactful welcome of Felix, and the hour having arrived for the grand ceremony of gift-giving, the throne was pushed back, Masie called from behind her screen, and O'Day's wicker basket filled with the presents was laid by the side of the big chair.
I have lots of tings belong to peoples, and ven other peoples come in, sometimes dey buy, and sometimes dey don't. Sometimes only one day goes by, and sometimes a whole year. You leave it vid me. I take care of it. Den I get my little Masie dat little girl of mine vot I call Beesvings to polish up all de bottles and make everyting look like new." "Then I will come in the morning?"
"I am afraid I do, and I am glad you do they are sometimes the best friends one has." "Yes," broke in Kling, "and so am I glad. Dot dog is more as a brudder to my Masie, ain't he, Beesvings? And now you run avay, dear, and play, and take Fudge vid you and say 'Good morning' to Mrs. Cleary, and maybe dot fool dog of Bobby's be home."
Felix broke into a hearty, ringing laugh one of the few either Masie or his employer had ever heard escape his lips. "We will let you off without even the apples this time," he said, when he recovered himself. "They are not coming to get something to eat this time. I will give them something better." "And you say everybody is comin'. Who is dot everybody?" "Just leave it all to me, Mr. Kling.
"In the Sisters' Home," he repeated mechanically, after a moment's silence. Then rousing himself: "And you will see her, Father, from time to time?" "Yes, every day. Why do you ask such a question of me, in particular?" "Because," replied Felix slowly, "I may be away out of the country. I have just asked Mrs. Cleary to look after Masie and she has promised she will.
It's a gray, with an invisible check, and it looks fine." There, were 3,000 girls in the Biggest Store. Masie was one of them. She was eighteen and a saleslady in the gents' gloves. Here she became versed in two varieties of human beings the kind of gents who buy their gloves in department stores and the kind of women who buy gloves for unfortunate gents.
Masie was equally enthusiastic, rushing down-stairs the next morning to throw her arms around his neck with an "Oh, Uncle Felix, I never, NEVER, NEVER was so happy in all my life!" Kling was still more jubilant. The success of Masie's banquet room had established him at once among bric-a-brac dealers as a competitor quite out of the ordinary.
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