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Updated: June 12, 2025
The wailing ceased, but Enrico remained seated, his hands still clutching his bushy hair, while his large brown eyes stared blankly from a face as white as a pierrot. "What's the matter?" Morris repeated. "His bank busted on him," said Nathan Schenkman, the shipping clerk. "His bank!" Morris cried. "What bank?" "It ain't a regular bank," Nathan explained.
"What would I do with a fiddle, Aaron?" Nathan Schenkman, the shipping clerk, asked. "You I ain't saying at all," Aaron said; "but you got a little boy Nathan." "He ain't a year old yet," Nathan interrupted. "Sure, I know," Shellak went on; "but now is the time, Nathan. You couldn't begin too early. Look at Kubelik and Kreisler and all them fellers.
"The fiddle which I give Geigermann last night," Abe continued; "and if you don't believe me you could ask Shellak." "Shellak?" Morris repeated. "What the devil are you talking about, Abe?" "Yes, Shellak," Abe went on, "the cutter. He comes round here yesterday with a fiddle, Mawruss, which he wants to sell it to Nathan Schenkman. So I give him a hundred and twenty-five dollars for it und fertig."
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