Abe and Mawruss Part 37

He explored his waistcoat pocket.

"Ain't this the label which was in your fiddle?" he asked, handing Aaron a slip of paper.

Aaron examined it carefully and nodded.

"That other crazy Indian over there," Morris continued, pointing to the professor, "look at this label. Ain't it the same which was in the fiddle?"

Ladislaw Wcelak examined the printed slip and he, too, nodded.

Next, Morris turned to old man Hubai, who stood apart muttering to himself.

"Some one ask that old greenhorn if it's the same label that was in the fiddle. I don't know what he's got to do with this business but he may know, anyhow."

Wcelak interpreted Morris's words and showed the label to the old man, who replied volubly in Hungarian.

"He says he thinks it is," the professor said, "but he doesn't know for sure."

"Well, I know it is the same," Morris retorted, "because I took it out there myself this morning."

Here Morris cleared his throat and a.s.sumed an air of such dignity, not to say majesty, that to Abe, it seemed as though he had never rightly known his partner until that moment.

"Now look on the other side of that label," Morris cried.

Once more the label went the rounds and after Emil Pilz had examined it he put on his hat and made for the elevator. Almost on tiptoe Professor Ladislaw Wcelak followed him, while Aaron repaired to the cutting room and packed up his belongings, preparatory to forsaking a career as cutter for one of music.

At length only old man Hubai remained.

"What are you waiting for?" Morris demanded.

"Me poor man," Hubai said. "Me no got carfare, me no got _Trinkgeld_, me no got nothing."

Morris handed him a quarter and he shuffled off toward the backstairs.

Meantime Abe staggered to his feet and pa.s.sed his hand over his forehead.

"Tell me, Mawruss," he said, "what is all this about?"

"It's just what I says just now, Abe," Morris exploded. "That expert seen the wrong fiddle. The fiddle you gave Geigermann is no more three hundred years old than I am."

"Why ain't it?" Abe asked.

For answer Morris handed him the label. On the obverse side Abe read the inscription:

Nicolaus Amati Cremonensis Faciebai Anno 1670.

"Now turn it over," Morris said; and Abe described on the reverse side a familiar oval mark bearing the following inscription:

Allied Printers Trades Council, Union Label, New York City.

CHAPTER SEVEN

BROTHERS ALL

"What is the use talking, Mawruss?" Abe Potash protested. "The feller couldn't even talk ten words English at all."

"Sure, I know," Morris Perlmutter admitted; "but he would quick learn."

"Quick learn!" Abe exclaimed. "What d'ye mean, quick learn? Nowadays I never seen the like! A greenhorn comes over here from Russland which he is such an iggeramus he don't know his own name, understand me; and he expects right away to get a job in a cloak-and-suit concern uptown, where they would learn him how he should talk English and at the same time pay him ten dollars a week. Actually, Mawruss, them fellers thinks they are doing you a favour if they ruin ten garments a day on you in exchange for learning 'em English. Me, when I come over from Russland, I was _oser_ so _grossartig_. I was glad to got a job learning on s.h.i.+rts in a subcellar and the boss boards me for wages. I got an elegant bill of fare, too, I bet yer, Mawruss. Every day for dinner is salt herring and potatoes, except Sundays is onions extra. And did that feller learn me English, Mawruss? _Oser_ a _stuck_. I must got to go to night school to learn English, Mawruss, and I did, Mawruss--and they learned me good there, Mawruss; and so this here feller you are talking about should do the same."

"We wouldn't got to learn him English, Abe," Morris declared. "The feller is a bright, smart feller, and he could pick it up quick enough."

"Sure, I know," Abe rejoined; "and pick up a whole lot of other things, too, Mawruss. Silks and velvets and b.u.t.tons them fellers picks up."

"Not this feller, Abe," Morris said. "He is from decent, respectable people in the old country. He is studying for a doctor already when he comes over here, but he gets into trouble on account he belongs to a politics society over there; so he must got to run away. The feller is a bright feller, Abe."

"I know them bright fellers, Mawruss--sit up till all hours of the night in Ca.n.a.l Street coffee houses killing off grand dukes. Grand dukes is got to make a living the same like anybody else, Mawruss; and anyhow, Mawruss, when a feller comes over here from Russland, Mawruss, he ain't got no business bothering his head about grand dukes. The way things is nowadays in the cloak-and-suit trade, Mawruss, a feller's got all he could attend to holding on to his job."

Morris shrugged.

"Let's give the feller a show anyhow, Abe," he rejoined; "and if he don't soon make good we could quick fire him, y 'understand."

"That's what you said about that feller Harkavy, which we give him a job in our cutting room, Mawruss. All the time he works for us he acts so _dumm_ like a ten-year-old child; and so soon as we fire him, Mawruss, he goes to work by Kleiman & Elenbogen and turns out a couple of styles, which the least them highwaymen makes out of 'em is five thousand dollars."

"How should I know what Harkavy could do with Kleiman & Elenbogen, Abe?"

Morris cried. "You are the prophet of this here concern, Abe. Always you are predicting to me to-morrow what is going to happen yesterday."

"Well, what's _vorbei_ is _vorbei_, Mawruss," Abe retorted; "and if I would got to stand here all day and _schmooes_ with you, Mawruss, go ahead and hire the feller. Only one thing I am saying to you, Mawruss: Don't tell me afterward that I was in favour of the feller from the start; because I ain't."

With this ultimatum, Abe glanced toward the cutting room, where sat a tall, stooping figure, holding in his two hands a peaked cap.

"Only to look at the feller gives me a _krank_, Mawruss," Abe continued; "so, if you are going to hire him, Mawruss, do me the favour and give him a couple dollars out of the safe so he should get a shave and a haircut and a new hat."

Morris nodded and started for the cutting room, when Abe called him back.

"For my part, Mawruss, I don't care what people says, y'understand," he declared; "but if we got a couple of them Thirty-fourth Street buyers around here and they sees our workpeople is got such shoes which their toes is sticking out already, Mawruss, what do they think of us? Am I right or wrong?"

"Sure, I know," Morris said; "but----"

"But nothing, Mawruss," Abe concluded. "For three dollars we should make suckers out of ourselves! Don't stand there like a fool, Mawruss. Give the feller five dollars; he should buy himself a pair of shoes and _fertig_."

The transformation begun in Cesar Kovalenko by a haircut and a shave was made complete when Morris, accompanied by Kovalenko's cousin, went with him to a retail clothing establishment. There Cesar discarded forever his cap, top boots and frogged overcoat and emerged--but for his vocabulary--a naturalized citizen of the cloak-and-suit trade.

"Now all he's got to do," Morris said, "is to work hard and he would quick be making good wages."

"Sure, sure!" the cousin replied. "At first, maybe he would be a little _dumm_ on account he is got a whole lot of experiences lately."