"Sure, why not?" Morris said. "It stands in the _Gemara_, Abe, we are
commanded to promote marriages, visit the sick and bury the dead."

Once more Abe nodded, and this time he managed to impart the quality of
irony to the gesture.

"Burying the dead is all right, Mawruss," he said. "From a dead man you
don't get no comebacks, and his relations is anyhow grateful; _aber_ if
you would make up a match between a couple of people like Mrs. Gladstein
and B. Gurin, what is it? Even if the marriage would be a success,
Mawruss, then the couple claims they was just suited to each other,
Mawruss, and we don't get no credit for it anyway. On the other hand,
Mawruss, if they don't agree together, they wouldn't hate each other
near so much as they'd hate us."

"Why should they hate us?" Morris asked. "Our intentions is anyhow
good."

"Sure, I know, Mawruss," Abe retorted. "From having good intentions
already, many a decent, respectable feller goes broke."

Morris flapped the air impatiently with his right hand.

"Anybody could sit down and talk proverbs, Abe," he said.

"I guess I could talk proverbs in my own store, Mawruss, if I want to,"
Abe rejoined with dignity.

"Sure you could," Morris replied, "but one thing you got to remember,