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Abe nodded. He knocked at the door, and Liszt's transcription of the Liebestod ceased immediately. "Well?" Mozart Rabiner cried and, for answer, Abe opened the door. "Hallo, Moe!" he said. "You don't know me. What? I'm Abe Potash." "Oh, hello, Potash!" Rabiner said, rising from the piano stool. "That's some pretty mournful music you was giving us, Moe," Abe went on.
Sam Green's face flushed in recollection of the phrase. "Never mind," he said fervently; "he's got anyhow a heart." "And I've got a stomach," Max Kirschner added irrelevantly. "At least, I've recovered one since I've been eating Leah Green's good cooking." Sam and Moe Griesman smiled sympathetically. "Well, what's the use wasting time here, boys?" Moe said at last.
"A ten per cent. interest they got, although I am going to run my Sarahcuse business and these here boys is going to run the Cyprus end," Moe continued. "And now, Abe, as Max has got to pick out a lot of goods for the Cyprus store and I want to do the same for my Sarahcuse store, let's get to work."
Now Lars Moe himself was too old to hunt; and his nephew was well, he was not old enough. There was, in fact, no one in the valley who was of the right age to hunt this Gausdale Bruin. It was of no use that Lars Moe egged on the young lads to try their luck, shaming them, or offering them rewards, according as his mood might happen to be.
Moreouer, at the same instant they did appoint that worthy knight Sir Amias Preston, and some others in some conuenient Barkes, to transport ouer to the sayd Towne safely and in good order, a hundred or moe of the better sort of ancient gentlewomen, and marchants wiues, who were suffered to put vpon themselues, some of them two, yea, some three sutes of apparell, with some conuenient quantitie of many Iewels, Chaines, and other ornaments belonging to their estate and degree.
In the period of about a dozen years following the death of Wergeland, the life, manners, and characteristics of the Norwegian people were given the especial attention of literary writers. Moe also published three little volumes of graceful and attractive poems.
His eyes were glued to a lady sitting at the next table. "You got to come to Paris to see 'em, Abe," he murmured. "They don't make 'em like that in America." "We make as good garments in America as anywhere," Abe protested. "Garments I ain't talking about at all," Moe whispered hoarsely; "I mean peaches. Did y'ever see anything like that lady there sitting next to you? Look at the get-up, Abe.
"Well, maybe I am figuring it a little too generous, y'understand; so, if that goes, Moe, I will quote the selling price at, say, forty dollars a garment to you, Moe." "Sure, it goes," Moe said; "and I'll be at your store to-morrow morning at nine o'clock to decide on sizes and shades."
And so it came to pass that he added a codicil to his will, setting aside five hundred dollars of his estate as a reward to the man who, within six years, should kill the Gausdale Bruin. Soon after that, Lars Moe died, as some said, from grief and chagrin; though the physician affirmed that it was of rheumatism of the heart.
Abe handed him a large cigar and, lighting the mate to it, puffed away complacently. "That was a pretty good order you got it from Prosnauer which Sol Klinger tells me about," he said. Mozart nodded sadly. "Looky here, Moe," Abe went on, "how much money do you need to move you?" Mozart lifted his eyebrows and shrugged hopelessly. "More as you would lend me, Potash," he said.
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