Simonetti looked earnestly at Morris, who fumbled in his waistcoat
pocket and produced a cigar.

"Do you smoke, Mr. Simmons?" he began.

"Simonetti," the designer interrupted, as he took the cigar and bit off
the end; "and eef ees too much-a you say Simonetti, call me 'Enery."

When Morris entered his place of business the following morning he
appeared to be in no better humour than when he left for home the
previous evening.

"Well, Abe," he announced, "I hired a soap powder."

Abe stared at him for a moment.

"What are you talking nonsense, you hired a soap powder?" he exclaimed.
"Are you _verrückt_?"

Morris snapped his fingers.

"A soap powder!" he cried. "Hear me talk! I mean a designer. I hired a
designer, Abe, a first-class feller."

"What d'ye mean, a first-class feller?" Abe demanded. "You are leaving
here last night half-past six, and here it is only eight o'clock next
morning and already you hired a designer which he is a first-class
feller. How do you know he is a first-class feller, Mawruss? Did you
dream it?"