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Her face worked convulsively, red spots were on her thin cheeks, but there was still an ingratiating, somewhat servile, tone in her voice, and she looked scornfully at Minna Eddy. Then J. Rosenstein, who kept the principal dry-goods store in Banbridge, bore his testimony. His grievances were small, but none the less vital.

Ikey Rosenstein at this moment was spied by the two little boys as he was Walking jauntily by the gate. "You better keep 'way f'om here, Goose-Grease," Jimmy yelled at him; "you better get on the other side the street.

"Ef a lady has the undisposition to let her husband subside on her bounty, it is between them twain. Who God has joined together, let no man set asunder," said he, bombastically, and even the surly milkman, and Rosenstein under his manipulating razor, when a laugh was dangerous, laughed. John Flynn, when he waxed didactic, and made use of large words and phrases, was the comic column of Banbridge.

He himself never even thought of it, much less spoke of it, as such. "Well, I must be going to the 'Parlor," he would say when setting out to business. He was unmarried, and lived in a boarding-house. As Flynn shaved Rosenstein, who was naturally speechless, his landlady's husband, Billy Amidon, was talking a good deal.

Don't be rash, John," said Amidon. It was not especially funny, but since Amidon intended it to be, they all obligingly laughed, except Tappan, who set himself with a grunt in the chair and had the white sheet of which Rosenstein had been denuded tied around his neck.

"I don't suppose it is worth the paper it is written on," said Rosenstein, with his melancholy accent, frowning intellectually over the slip of paper. "He gave the dressmaker one, too," said Amidon, "and she is tickled to death with it. The daughter had already asked her to take back a silk dress she had made for her, and she has sold it for something.

Rosenstein did credit to his German ancestry at times, and was then in deep waters for his village acquaintances. "Who would you ruther meet in the lookin'-glass than yerself?" pursued Amidon.

"Why, last summer I was eatin' three meals a day next to my first cousin and didn't know it." "Look!" said Mrs. Blondheim. "There's those made-up Rosenstein goils comin' out of the dinin'-room. Look at the agony they put on, would you! I knew 'em when they were livin' over their hair-store on Twenty-thoid Street. I wonder where my Bella is!"

"A half a pint a day about breaks me, but my wife must have it for her coffee." Rosenstein had so far got his freedom of speech, for the barber had never ceased operation to speak, though rather guardedly. "He must be rich," he said. "Any man in Banbridge that buys as much as he does from a store in the place, an' wants his bills regular every Saturday night, has got somethin'."

Each man preened unconsciously his panoply of spiritual pride under this other man's gentle, courteous eyes. Even Rosenstein straightened himself. And besides, this was the respectful admiration which the man himself excited, by reason of his fine appearance and address, his good looks, his irreproachable clothes, and his reputed wealth.