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Updated: May 3, 2025
"I got an idee, Mawruss, we should buy them fixtures what H. Rifkin got." "Is that so?" Morris retorted. "Well, why should we buy it fixtures what H. Rifkin throws out?" "He don't throw 'em out, Mawruss," Abe said. "He ain't got no more use for 'em, Mawruss. He busted up this morning." "You can't make me feel bad by telling me that, Abe," Morris rejoined.
Feigenbaum," Abe cried, "and you see that here we got it a fine new line of fixtures." "Not so good as what Rifkin carried," Feigenbaum said. "Rifkin carried fine fixtures, Mr. Feigenbaum," Abe admitted, "but not so fine as what we got. We got it everything up to date. You couldn't bump your nose here, not if you was to get down on your hands and knees and try." "I wouldn't do it," Mr.
Abe grunted inarticulately and handed a match to Feigenbaum, who lit his cigar, a fine imported one, and blew out great clouds of smoke with every evidence of appreciative enjoyment. "Where's Rifkin?" he inquired between puffs. Abe shook his head and smiled. "You got to ask me something easier than that, Mr. Feigenbaum," he murmured. "What d'ye mean?" Feigenbaum cried, jumping to his feet.
In books, in a slowly ripening experience, she might have found a better answer to the riddle of a girl's life than a premature marriage. My sister's engagement pleased me very well. Our confidences were not interrupted, and I understood that she was happy. I was very fond of Moses Rifkin myself. He was the nicest young man of my acquaintance, not at all like other workmen.
"What do you mean, insurance?" Abe asked. "We got enough insurance, Mawruss. Them Rifkin fixtures ain't so valuable as all that, Mawruss, and even if we wouldn't already got it for twenty thousand dollars insurance, Mawruss, the building is anyhow fireproof. In a fireproof building you don't got to have so much insurance." "Is that so?" Morris replied.
Take it from me, she's got it behind her ears." "I should say so." "Without it she couldn't get in with such a crowd of rich girls like she does. I got it from Mrs. Abrams in the Arline Apartments how every week she plays five hundred with Nathan Shapiro's daughter." "No! Shapiro & Stein?" "And yesterday at matinée in she comes with a box of candy and laughing with that Rifkin girl!
"That's what I said," Abe went on. "He made it a big failure and skipped to the old country." "You don't tell me!" Feigenbaum said. "Why, I used to buy it all my goods from Rifkin." Abe leaned forward and placed his hand on Feigenbaum's knees. "I know it," he murmured, "and oncet you used to buy it all your goods from us, Mr. Feigenbaum. I assure you, Mr.
Home from work in the evening, after a hurried supper, she shut herself up in the parlor, and cut and snipped and measured and basted and stitched as if there were nothing else in the world to do. It was early summer, and the air had a wooing touch, even on Wheeler Street. Moses Rifkin came, and I suppose he also had a wooing touch.
In fact, I could almost swear this desk is the same desk what Rifkin had it." He rose to his feet and passed his hand over the top of the desk with the touch of a connoisseur. "No," he said at last. "It ain't the same as Rifkin's. Rifkin's desk was a fine piece of Costa Rica mahogany without a flaw. I used to be in the furniture business oncet, you know, Mawruss, and so I can tell."
He seized Feigenbaum by the arm and propelled him over to the sample line of skirts, behind which Morris cowered. "Look at them goods," Abe said. "One or two of them styles would be leaders for H. Rifkin. For us, all them different styles is our ordinary line."
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