Part 44 (1/2)

”You got everything to do with it,” Trinkmann declared. ”A pantryman is a feller which no one could depend upon, otherwise he wouldn't be a pantryman, Louis; but a waiter, that's something else again. If a waiter wouldn't see that the forks ain't _schmutzig_, who would see it?

The trouble is here n.o.body takes any interest at all. Me, I got to do everything myself.”

Mr. Trinkmann returned to the cas.h.i.+er's desk over which Mrs. Trinkmann habitually presided, and taking a cigarette pen-fas.h.i.+on twixt thumb and forefinger, he lit it slowly and threw away the match with a gesture that implied more strongly than words, ”I am sick and tired of the whole business.”

The fact was that Mr. Trinkmann had undergone that morning as much as one man could endure without the relief that profanity affords. To be precise, only three hours before, Mrs. Trinkmann had presented him with twins, both girls.

”The thing has got to stop sometime, Louis,” he said, as he came from behind the desk. He referred, however, to the ashtrays and the forks.

”Either you would got to turn around a new leaf, or you could act like a slob somewheres else, understand me, because I wouldn't stand for it here.”

”What are you talking nonsense--act like a slob, Mr. Trinkmann?” Louis cried. ”I am working here for you now six years next _Tishabav_, and everybody which comes here in the place I always give 'em good satisfaction.”

”You got too swell a head, Louis,” Mr. Trinkmann continued, gaining heat. ”You would think you was a partner here the way you act. You talk to me like I would be the waiter and you would be the boss. What do you think I am, anyway?”

”But, Mr. Trinkmann----” Louis began.

”Things goes from bad to worst,” Trinkmann went on, his voice rising to a bellow. ”You treat me like I would be a dawg.”

”_Aber_, Mr. Trinkmann,” Louis whimpered, ”I----”

”_Koos.h.!.+_” Trinkmann shouted. ”I got enough of your _Chutzpah_. I am through with you. Comes three o'clock this afternoon, you would quit.

D'ye hear me?”

Louis nodded. He would have made some articulate protest, but his Adam's apple had suddenly grown to the dimensions of a dirigible balloon; and though there surged through his brain every manner of retort, ironical and defiant, he could think of nothing better to do than to polish the ashtrays. Polis.h.i.+ng powder and rags alone could not have produced the dazzling brilliancy that ensued. It was a sense of injustice that lent force to every rub, and when he began to clean the forks Louis imparted to his labour all the energy of a discharged waiter wringing his employer's neck.

Before he had half concluded his task the other waiters arrived, for Louis was but one of a staff of three, with the distinction that though his two a.s.sociates were only dinner waiters, Louis served breakfast, dinner, and supper. Marcus, the elder of the two, bore a brown-paper package with an air of great solemnity, while Albert, his companion, perspired freely in spite of a chill March air blowing outside.

”Mr. Trinkmann,” Marcus began, ”Louis telephones me this morning which you got a couple new arrivals in your family and----”

”Louis!” Trinkmann roared, and Louis in response approached the desk with the polis.h.i.+ng cloth in his hand. ”Do you mean to told me you are using the telephone without asking me?”

”I thought, Mr. Trinkmann,” Louis hastened to explain, ”that so long you got in your family----”

”What is it your business _what_ I got in my family?” Trinkmann asked.

Louis' eyes kindled and he gave free play to his indignation.

”For you I don't care at all, Mr. Trinkmann,” he said, ”but for Mrs.

Trinkmann which she is always acted to us like a lady, understand me, I am telephoning Marcus he should bring with him a few flowers, Mr.

Trinkmann, which if you wouldn't take 'em to her, we could easy send 'em up by a messenger boy, and here is a nickel for using the telephone.”

He plunged his hand into his trousers-pocket and dashed a coin on to the desk. Then, reaching behind him with both hands, he untied his ap.r.o.n. ”Furthermore,” he said, ”I wouldn't wait till three o'clock, Mr.

Trinkmann. Give me my money and I would go now.”

”Pick up that ap.r.o.n, Louis,” Trinkmann commanded, ”because, so sure as I am standing here, if you wouldn't wait on the customers till three o'clock I wouldn't pay you not one cent.”

”So far as that goes, Mr. Trinkmann,” Louis commenced, ”I ain't----”

”And if you get fresh to me _oder_ to the customers, Louis,” Trinkmann concluded, ”you wouldn't get your money, neither.”