Part 50 (1/2)
A month pa.s.sed, and Miss Cohen continued to apply herself to her daily task at Potash & Perlmutter's books.
”I don't understand it, Mawruss,” Abe said one morning. ”Why don't that girl quit her job? She must have all sorts of things to do--clothes to buy and furniture to pick out, ain't it?”
Perlmutter shrugged his shoulders.
”I spoke to her about it,” he replied, ”and she says so long as we're so busy here, she guesses she will stay on the job as long as she can. She says her mommer and her sister can do all the shopping for her.”
”You see, Mawruss, what a mistake you make,” Abe commented with a sigh.
”That's a fine girl, that Miss Cohen!”
Morris nodded gloomily. He began to realize that he had made a mistake, after all. Only that morning Mrs. Perlmutter had demanded twenty dollars with which to make over her best frock for Miss Cohen's wedding.
”Sure, she's a fine girl,” he agreed; ”but you got to admit yourself, Abe, that a growing business like ours needs a hustling young man for a bookkeeper.”
”That's all right, too, Mawruss,” said Abe; ”but you also got to admit that what a growing business like ours needs most of all, Mawruss, is customers; and so far what I see, we don't gain any customers by this.
Also, my wife has got to make a new dress for the wedding. She told me so this morning.”
Morris made no reply. He was growing heartily sick of this business of firing Miss Cohen, and consoled himself with the thought that the wedding was fast approaching, and that they would be rid of her for good.
At length the wedding-day arrived. Miss Cohen left Potash & Perlmutter's at four o'clock, for the ceremony was set for half-past seven in the evening. Her parting with her employers was an embarra.s.sing one for all three. Abe handed her a check for twenty-five dollars, with the firm's blessing, and Morris shook her hand in comparative silence. He had done and suffered much for that moment of leave-taking; and further than wis.h.i.+ng her a long and happy married life, he said nothing. As for Abe, the squandering of twenty-five dollars, without hope of return, temporarily exhausted his capacity for emotion.
”Good luck to you, Miss Cohen,” he said. ”Hope we see you again soon.”
”Oh, sure!” Miss Cohen replied cheerfully. ”You'll be at the wedding to-night?”
Abe nodded--they all nodded--and then, with a final handshake all around, Miss Cohen departed.
It must be confessed that the wedding reception that evening was a very enjoyable occasion for all the guests, with the possible exception of Max Cohen. The wine flowed like French champagne at four dollars a quart, while, as Morris Perlmutter at once deduced from the careful way in which the waiters disguised the label with a napkin, it was really domestic champagne of an inferior quality. Nevertheless, Abe Potash drank more than his share, in a rather futile attempt to get back, in kind, part of the twelve and a half dollars he had contributed toward Miss Cohen's wedding-present, to say nothing of the cost of his wife's gown.
Consequently, on the morning after the festivities he entered his place of business in no very pleasant frame of mind. He found that Morris had already arrived.
”Well, Mawruss,” he said in greeting, ”everything went off splendid--for Feinsilver. Max Cohen came down with a certified check for five thousand dollars, you and me got rid of about over a hundred, counting the wedding-present and our wives' dresses, and Miss Cohen got a husband and a lot of cut gla.s.s, while _me_--I got a headache!”
Morris grunted.
”I guess you don't feel too good yourself, ain't it?” Abe went on.
”Anyhow, you got to get busy now, and find some smart young feller to keep the books. You got rid of your dirty water, Mawruss; now you got to get some clean. Did you put an 'ad' in the papers, Mawruss?”
”No, I ain't,” Morris snapped.
”Ain't you going to?”
”What for?” Morris growled. ”We don't need no bookkeeper.”
”Why not?” Abe cried.
Morris nodded in the direction of the office.