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 embarrassing 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
wishing 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