Part 18 (1/2)
”Oh, if the house's got a big reputation for auction pinocle, Mawruss, then that's something else again! They play just as high as former times. Sidney Koblin lost forty dollars last night. With my own eyes I seen it, Mawruss; and his father looks on and don't say nothing.”
”What does Max Koblin care for forty dollars, Abe?” Morris said. ”The feller's a millionaire. He's got ten pages of advertising in the _Cloak and Suit Monthly Gazette_. I bet yer he spends more as forty dollars for one page already. Wait; I'll show it to you.”
Morris opened the green-covered periodical and displayed a full-page ”ad.”
MAX KOBLIN KING OF RAINCOATS
”KOBLINETTE,” THE RAINSHED FABRIC
WEST 20TH STREET NEW YORK
”Sure, I know, Mawruss,” Abe commented. ”He was always a big faker, that feller. Twenty years since already I used to eat by Gifkin's on Ca.n.a.l Street, and one day Max Koblin comes in and says to me, 'Abe,' he says, 'I want you should drink a bottle tchampanyer wine on me.' In them days Max works for old man Zudosky selling boys' reefers. Raincoats was like oitermobiles; no one had discovered 'em yet. 'What's the matter, Max?' I says. 'Old man Zudosky given you a raise?' I says. 'Raise nothing,' Max says. 'I got a boy up to my house.' 'So,' I says, 'just because you got a boy, Max, I should got a headache and neglect my business?' I says. 'An idee!' I says. 'Take the dollar and a quarter, Max,' I says, 'and put it in the savings bank, and every time you give the boy a penny make him put it away with the other money,' I says; 'and the first thing you know, Max,' I says, 'when the boy gets to be twenty years old he's got anyhow a couple hundred dollars in the savings bank.'”
”And what did Max say?” Morris asked.
”He laughs at me, Mawruss,” Abe replied. ”He says to me, 'when that boy gets to be twenty years old he wouldn't need to got to have a couple hundred dollars in the savings bank. I could give him all the money he wants it.'”
”Well, Max was right, ain't it?” Morris rejoined. ”He could give the boy all the money he wants.”
”Money ain't everything what that boy wants, Mawruss,” Abe said. ”A good _potch_ on the side of the head oncet in a while is what that boy wants.
So fresh that young feller is, Mawruss, you wouldn't believe it at all.
Actually he runs an oitermobile what Max bought it for him for fifteen hundred dollars, a birthday present, besides the other big car which Koblin got it. Max _oser_ runs oitermobiles at Sidney's age. Piece goods on a pooshcart from old man Zudosky's to the sponger's was all the oitermobiling Max done it. To-day they are putting on style yet.
Suckers!”
”Well, say, Abe,” Morris protested, ”what is it skin off your nose supposing Max does buy oitermobiles for the boy? This is a free country, Abe.”
”Sure, I know, Mawruss,” Abe declared, as he revealed the nub of the whole matter; ”and supposing my Rosie don't play poker, which, _Gott sei dank_, she couldn't tell a king from an ace, what is that Mrs. Koblin's business? She ain't supposed to know that, Mawruss, and yet she didn't invite my Rosie to her poker party. Rosie wouldn't of gone anyhow, Mawruss; but that ain't the point. Ain't my Rosie just as good as Mrs.
Klinger _oder_ Mrs. Elenbogen? Particularly Mrs. Elenbogen, which, three years ago even, Kleiman & Elenbogen was still rated ten to fifteen thousand, third credit. Only in the last two years they are coming up so; and the way that Mrs. Elenbogen acts, you would think her husband got a bank in Frankfort-am-Main when Rothschild was a new beginner yet.
Such fakers as them is too good for my Rosie, Mawruss. An idee!”
”What do you worry yourself about women's fighting, Abe?” Morris asked.
”Me worry myself, Mawruss!” Abe cried. ”I much care for them people, Mawruss. I am married to my Rosie now going on twenty-six years, will be next May, and if I didn't know that she's got it on every one of them cows in looks, in refinement and in every which way, Mawruss, then I could worry, Mawruss. As it is, Mawruss, for my part they could play poker till they are black in the face--what is it my business? I got enough to attend to here in the store, Mawruss, without I should bother myself.”
”I bet yer!” Morris agreed fervently. ”That reminds me, Abe, Shapolnik is leaving us on Sat.u.r.day.”
”Well, Mawruss, I couldn't exactly break my heart about that, y'understand?” Abe replied, ”Skirt-cutters you could always get plenty of 'em. What's the matter he ain't satisfied?”
”Nothing's the matter,” Morris said. ”He is simply going into the pants business. His brother-in-law is got a small place downtown and he is going as partners together with him. They ought to make a success of it too, Abe, if nerve would got anything to do with it. The feller actually wants me I should give him an introduction to Feder of the Koscius...o...b..nk.”
”Sure; why not?” Abe commented.
”Why not?” Morris repeated. ”What would Feder think of us if we are bringing a yokel like Shapolnik into his office? The feller ain't been two years in the country yet.”
”Don't knock a feller like Shapolnik just because he ain't putting on no front nor throwing no bluffs, Mawruss,” Abe retorted. ”It's the faker with the four-carat diamond pin which is doing his creditors, Mawruss, but the yokel with the soup on his coat pays a hundred cents on the dollar every time.”
Half an hour later Abe conducted his retiring skirt-cutter to the Fifth Avenue branch of the Koscius...o...b..nk, and as they approached the corner of Nineteenth Street on their return they encountered Max Koblin, the Raincoat King. He was about to enter the tonneau of an automobile, while Sidney Koblin, the Heir Apparent, sat at the tiller arrayed in a silk duster and goggles. Max grinned maliciously as he noted Abe's shabby, bearded companion.