Part 9 (2/2)
”One moment,” Abe said. ”I don't know who this young lady is or nothing; but do you mean to told me that this here dress which I bought it in Paris was made up right here in our place?”
”Here, Abe,” Morris said, ”I want to show you something. Here is from the same goods a garment, and them goods as you know we get it from the Hamsuckett Mills. So far what I hear it, the Hamsuckett Mills don't sell their output in Paris. Am I right or wrong?”
Abe nodded slowly.
”Well, Mr. Perlmutter,” Miss Smith said, ”here's your sixty dollars.
I've got to get back to my patient. You know that I went to Paris with a rheumatic case, and I've left the old gentleman in charge of a friend. I came here to settle up.”
”Excuse me,” said Abe; ”I ain't been introduced to this young lady yet.”
”Why, I thought you knew her,” Morris said. ”This is Miss Smith, the trained nurse which was so good to my Minnie when my Abie was born.”
”Is that so?” Abe cried. ”Well, Miss Smith, you should take that sixty dollars and keep it, because, Mawruss, on the way over I sold Moe Griesman fifty garments of that there style of yours at forty dollars apiece.”
”You don't say so!” Morris cried. ”You don't say so! Well, all I got to say is, Miss Smith, in the first place, if Abe wouldn't of told you to keep that sixty dollars I sure would of done so, and in the second place, I want you to come in here next week and pick out half a dozen dresses. Ain't that right, Abe?”
”I bet yer that's right, Mawruss; we wouldn't take no for an answer,”
Abe replied. ”And you should also leave us your name and address, Miss Smith, because, _Gott soll huten_, if I should be sick, y'understand, I don't want n.o.body else to nurse me but you.”
”Say, lookyhere, Abe,” Morris said the following morning, ”that trunkful of Paris samples which the custom-house says we would get this morning ain't come yet.”
Abe clapped his partner on the shoulder and grinned happily.
”What do I care, Mawruss?” he said. ”For my part they should never come.
I ain't got no use for Paris fas.h.i.+ons at all. Styles which Mawruss Perlmutter originates is good enough for me, because I always said it, Mawruss, you are a cracker-jack, high-grade, A number one designer!”
CHAPTER THREE
DEAD MEN'S SHOES
”There goes that sucker, Aaron Kronberg, from Port Sullivan,” Abe Potash declared to his partner, Morris Perlmutter, as they looked from the windows of their showroom to the opposite sidewalk some four stories below. ”Ain't it funny that feller would never buy from us a dollar's worth more goods?”
”The reason ain't hard to find, Abe,” Morris replied. ”Oncet a garment buyer gets into the hands of a compet.i.tor like Leon Sammet, it's all off. I bet yer Leon tells him we are all kinds of crooks and swindlers.”
”What could you expect from a cut-throat like Leon Sammet? That feller is no good and his father before him is also a thief. I know his people from the old country yet. One was worser as the other.”
”Well, there's nothing the matter with Aaron's cousin, Alex Kronberg, anyhow,” Morris observed. ”That feller does a fine business in Bridgetown, and Sammet Brothers could no more take his trade away from us than they could fly.”
”That ain't our fault, Mawruss,” Abe rejoined. ”Sammet Brothers is fly enough to do anything, Mawruss; but, the way Aaron Kronberg hates Alex Kronberg, if they was to sell Alex a single garment, y'understand, Aaron would never buy from them a dollar's worth more goods so long as he lived.”
”Ain't it a disgrace them two fellers is such enemies, Abe?”
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