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Updated: October 15, 2025
Jones, of the title company, had packed up his papers, and then after Henry D. Feldman had followed the others into the adjoining room and had closed the door behind him, Uncle Mosha touched the button on Feldman's desk. "Go out and buy for me an evening paper," he said to the boy who responded. "Say," the boy replied, "there was a doctor waiting to see you for more than half an hour."
"Waiter," Abe called, "put this here gentleman's check on mine and bring us two of them thirty-cent cigars." So eagerly did Morris await the advent of Uncle Mosha Kronberg in Potash & Perlmutter's store that he even omitted to notice his partner's prolonged absence at lunch; and when Abe returned to unfold the narrative of his meeting with a prospective customer Morris heard it without interest.
"Well, now you got it," Aaron retorted triumphantly; "and so, if you would start to sell your house to his friend Perlmutter, the least that happens to you is they would do you for the whole thing." "Maybe you're right," Uncle Mosha admitted.
"I just run into Aaron and Uncle Mosha coming out of a coffee house, and the way them two suckers cussed me out, Mawruss! you wouldn't believe it at all. I couldn't understand what they was talking about, Mawruss, but they mentioned your name and something about Mosha's house on Madison Street." Abe glared at Morris and then turned to Alex with a forced smile.
No one could get me to touch another share of stock so long as I live." With this solemn declaration he passed out of Klinkberg & Company's office just as a short stout man burst into the hall from a door marked "Customers." "Wow!" the short stout man exclaimed. "Warum wow?" Uncle Mosha asked.
"And now let's get him in here and we'll all go down to Henry D. Feldman's office and fix the matter up." Two hours later Leon and Uncle Mosha had signed a contract for the sale of the Madison Street house, title to be closed and deed to be delivered within thirty days.
He looked after Hillel's widow and Hillel's boy, Alex, because Mosha never married, Mawruss. He was a born uncle. Then, when Elkan died a year later, I never seen a feller so broke up like Mosha in all my life.
"Then all I could say is," Uncle Mosha thundered, "you should go right back to Alex and tell him from me that I says any friend of his which he comes to me looking for information about real estate, he's lucky I don't kick him into the street yet." He jumped up from his chair and opened the door leading into the public hall. "Go on," he roared, "out from my house."
"He is entitled to it after what he puts up with during them three years they lived together. Well, Mosha and Alex gets right away fighting about it, and I guess Alex would of sued Mosha in the courts yet, only the old lady goes to work and dies on 'em all of a sudden." "But why is Aaron and Alex such enemies, Abe?" Morris asked.
"But you got plenty other money to invest in the stock market without you would sell the house, Uncle Mosha," he said. "Have I?" Uncle Mosha rejoined. "That's news to me, Aaron. You see in nineteen-seven was a big panic and some stocks is better as others. Them which ain't, Aaron, they went and gone so low, Aaron, they ain't never come back again and perhaps never will.
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