"Because, when it comes right down to it, Mawruss, if a feller attends
to his own business, Mawruss, and don't monkey with politics,
y'understand, where could he make a better living than right here in New
York, N. Y.?"




CHAPTER EIGHT

"R. S. V. P."


It was the tenth of the month, and Abe Potash, of Potash & Perlmutter,
was going through the firm mail with an exploratory thumb and finger,
looking for checks.

"Well, Mawruss," he said to his partner, Morris Perlmutter, "all them
hightone customers of yours they don't take it so particular that they
should pay on the day, Mawruss. If they was only so prompt with checks
as they was to claim deductions, Mawruss, you and me would have no
worries. I think some of 'em finds a shortage in the shipment before
they open the packing-case that the goods come in. Take your friend
Hyman Maimin, of Sarahcuse--nothing suits him. He always kicks that the
goods ain't made up right, or we ain't sent him enough fancies, or
something like that. Five or six letters he writes us, Mawruss, when he
gets the goods; but when he got to pay for 'em, Mawruss, that's
something else again. You might think postage stamps was solitaire
diamonds, and that he dassen't use 'em!"