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Updated: May 8, 2025
Klein, who were immediately succeeded by the firm of Kleiman & Elenbogen, H. Rashkin, the coat-pad manufacturer, and Marks Pasinsky. It must be conceded that Leon Sammet comported himself in a highly creditable manner, and he greeted his guests with a cordiality that embraced competitor and customer in one impartial, comprehensive smile. "Why, how do you do, Mr.
He could fall down a sewer manhole and come up in a dress suit and a clean shave already. He cleans me out last night two hundred dollars and the commission on that Prosnauer order." "But you didn't get that order in the first place, Moe," Abe said. "Marks Pasinsky got the order."
I'll be back at noon." "Hold on a minute," Abe cried. "You ain't told us nothing about who you worked for last. What were all them references you was telling us about?" Pasinsky regarded Abe with a smile of amusement. "I'll tell you, Mr. Potash, it's like this," he explained. "Of course you want to know who I worked for and all about it." Abe nodded.
"Pasinsky used to sell 'em both goods, y'understand; but fortunately, Mawruss, he sends 'em a dozen coffee spoons, so Asimof takes six and Mrs. Gladstein takes six." "It's a good thing Pasinsky didn't send 'em a single piece of cut glass," Morris said thoughtfully. "It wouldn't make no difference to Asimof," Abe said. "He would of allowed Mrs. Gladstein half cost price, give or take.
Abe insisted. Marks Pasinsky bent down and placed his hand on Abe's shoulder. "B. Gans," he whispered. "Let me in on this, too, Abe," Morris exclaimed. "He says he worked for B. Gans," Abe replied. "That's an A Number One concern, Abe," Morris said. "A A Number One," Pasinsky corrected. "B. Gans ain't got a garment in his entire line that retails for less than a hundred dollars."
Beneath the lights was a small, oblong table at which sat three men, and in front of each of them stood a small pile of chips. Marks Pasinsky was dealing. "A-ah, Katzen, you ruined that hand," Marks Pasinsky said as he flipped out the cards three at a time. "Why didn't you lead it out the ace of Schüppe right at the start? What did you expect to do with it? Eat it?" Katzen nodded sleepily.
When Abe reached Chicago the following afternoon he repaired at once to the hotel at which Marks Pasinsky was staying. "Mr. Pasinsky ain't in his room. What?" he said to the clerk. "Mr. Pasinsky went out about one o'clock and hasn't been back since," the clerk replied as he handed Abe over to a bell-boy.
"You don't believe nothing, Mawruss," Abe concluded as he made for the cutting-room; "you're a regular amethyst." "With a feller like Kuhner," Marks Pasinsky declared on the following Monday, "you couldn't be a cheap skate, Mr. Potash." "I always sold it Kuhner, too," Abe replied; "but I never spent it so much as three hundred dollars in one week in Chicago."
He bounced out of the room and, as he rang for the elevator, Isolde's lament once more issued from beneath. Mozart Rabiner's fingers: Mild und leise wie er lächelt Wie das Auge hold er öffnet While from the floor above came the full, round tones of the salesman, Marks Pasinsky. "Sixty queens," he said. Abe ran out of the hotel lobby straight into the arms of a short, stout person.
You see, Pasinsky wants to come to work by us as salesman, and I want to find out a few things about him first." "Well, I'm just telling you, ain't I?" Gans replied. "I said Marks Pasinsky was a good salesman and the reason why he left me was by mutual consent; and you tell Pasinsky that that's what I said it, and if you'll excuse me I got business to attend to."
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