CHAPTER THREE
THE SORROWS OF SEIDEN
"Say, lookyhere!" said Isaac Seiden, proprietor of the Sanspareil WaistCompany, as he stood in the office of his factory on Greene Street;"what is the use your telling me it is when it ain't? My wife's mothernever got a brother by the name Pesach."
He was addressing Mrs. Miriam Saphir, who sat on the edge of the chairnursing her cheek with her left hand. Simultaneously she rocked to andfro and beat her forehead with her clenched fist, while at intervalsshe made inarticulate sounds through her nose significant of intensesuffering.
"I should drop dead in this chair if she didn't," she contended. "Whyshould I lie to you, Mr. Seiden? My own daughter, which I called herBessie for this here Pesach Gubin, should never got a husband and myother children also, which one of 'em goes around on crutches rightnow, Mr. Seiden, on account she gets knocked down by a truck."
"Well, why didn't she sue him in the courts yet?" Seiden asked. "Frombeing knocked down by a truck many a rich feller got his first start inbusiness already."
"Her luck, Mr. Seiden!" Mrs. Saphir cried. "A greenhorn owns the truckwhich it even got a chattel mortgage on it. Such _Schlemazel_ my familygot it, Mr. Seiden! If it would be your Beckie, understand me, theleast that happens is that a millionaire owns the truck and he settlesout of court for ten thousand dollars yet. Some people, if they wouldbe shot with a gun, the bullet is from gold and hits 'em in the pocketalready--such luck they got it."
"That ain't here nor there, Mrs. Saphir," Seiden declared. "Why shouldI got to give your Bessie a job, when already I got so many peoplehanging around my shop, half the time they are spending treading ontheir toes?"
"_Ai, tzuris!_" Mrs. Saphir wailed. "My own husband's Uncle Pesach isfrom his wife a cousin and he asks me why! Who should people look tofor help if it wouldn't be their family, Mr. Seiden? Should I go andbeg from strangers?"
Here Mrs. Saphir succumbed to a wave of self-pity, and she wept aloud.
"_Koosh!_" Mr. Seiden bellowed. "What do you think I am running here--acemetery? If you want to cry you should go out on the sidewalk."
"Such hearts people got it," Mrs. Seiden sobbed, "like a piece fromice."
"'S enough!" said Mr. Seiden. "I wasted enough time already. You tookup pretty near my whole morning, Mrs. Saphir; so once and for all I amtelling you you should send your Bessie to work as a learner Mondaymorning, and if she gets worth it I would pay her just the same wageslike anybody else."
Mrs. Saphir dried her eyes with the back of her hand, while Mr. Seidenwalked into his workroom and slammed the door behind him as evidencethat the interview was at an end. When he returned a few minutes laterMrs. Saphir was still there waiting for him.
"Well," he demanded, "what d'ye want of me now?"
For answer Mrs. Saphir beat her forehead and commenced to rock anew."My last ten cents I am spending it for carfare," she cried.
"What is that got to do with me?" Seiden asked. "People comes into myoffice and takes up my whole morning disturbing my business, and Ishould pay 'em carfare yet? An idee!"
"Only one way I am asking," Mrs. Saphir said.
"I wouldn't even give you a transfer ticket," Mr. Seiden declared, andonce more he banged the door behind him with force sufficient to shiverits ground-glass panel.
Mrs. Saphir waited for an interval of ten minutes and then she gatheredher shawl about her; and with a final adjustment of her crape bonnetshe shuffled out of the office.
Miss Bessie Saphir was a chronic "learner"--that is to say, she hadnever survived the period of instruction in any of the numerous shirt,cloak, dress, and clothing factories in which she had soughtemployment; and at the end of her second month in the workshop of theSanspareil Waist Company she appeared to know even less about themanufacture of waists than she did at the beginning of her first week.
"How could any one be so _dumm_!" Philip Sternsilver cried as he heldup a damaged garment for his employer's inspection, "I couldn'tunderstand at all. That's the tenth waist Bessie Saphir ruins on us."
"_Dumm!_" Mr. Seiden exclaimed. "What d'ye mean, dumb? You are gettingaltogether too independent around here, Sternsilver."
"Me--independent!" Philip rejoined. "For what reason I am independent,Mr. Seiden? I don't understand what you are talking about at all."
"No?" Seiden said. "Might you don't know you are calling my wife'srelation dumb, Sternsilver? From a big mouth a feller like you couldget himself into a whole lot of trouble."
"Me calling your wife's relation dumb, Mr. Seiden?" Sternsilver criedin horrified accents. "I ain't never said nothing of the sort. What Iam saying is that that _dummer_ cow over there--that Bessie Saphir--is_dumm_. I ain't said a word about your wife's relations."
"Loafer!" Seiden shouted in a frenzy. "What d'ye mean?"
Sternsilver commenced to perspire.
"What do I mean?" he murmured. "Why, I am just telling you what Imean."
"If it wouldn't be our busy season," Seiden continued, "I would fireyou right out of here _und fertig_. Did you ever hear the like? Callsmy wife's cousin, Miss Bessie Saphir, a _dummer Ochs_!"
"How should I know she's your wife's cousin, Mr. Seiden?" Sternsilverprotested. "Did she got a label on her?"
"Gets fresh yet!" Seiden exclaimed. "Never mind, Sternsilver. If thelearners is _dumm_ it's the foreman's fault; and if you couldn't learnthe learners properly I would got to get another foreman which he couldlearn, and that's all there is to it."
He stalked majestically away while Sternsilver turned and gazed at theunconscious subject of their conversation. As he watched her bendingover her sewing-machine a sense of injustice rankled in his breast, forthere could be no doubt the epithet _dummer Ochs_, as applied to MissSaphir, was not only justified but eminently appropriate.
Her wide cheekbones, flat nose, and expressionless eyes suggested atonce the calm, ruminating cow; and there was not even lacking a pieceof chewing-gum between her slowly moving jaws to complete the portrait.
"A girl like her should got rich relations yet," he murmured tohimself. "A _Schnorrer_ wouldn't marry her, not if her uncles wasRothschilds _oder_ Carnegies. You wouldn't find the mate to her outsidea dairy farm."
As he turned away, however, the sight of Hillel Fatkin wielding a pairof shears gave him the lie; for, if Miss Bessie Saphir's cheekboneswere broad, Hillel's were broader. In short, Hillel's features comparedto Bessie's as the head of a Texas steer to that of a Jersey heifer.
Sternsilver noticed the resemblance with a smile just as Mr. Seidenreturned to the workroom.
"Sternsilver," he said, "ain't you got nothing better to do that youshould be standing around grinning like a fool? Seemingly you think aforeman don't got to work at all."
"I was laying out some work for the operators over there, Mr. Seiden,"Philip replied. "Oncet in a while a feller must got to think, Mr.Seiden."
"What d'ye mean, think?" Seiden exclaimed. "Who asks you you shouldthink, Sternsilver? You get all of a sudden such _grossartig_ notions.'Must got to think,' _sagt er_! I am the only one which does thethinking here, Sternsilver. Now you go right ahead and tend to thembasters."
Sternsilver retired at once to the far end of the workroom, where heproceeded to relieve his outraged feeling by criticising HillelFatkin's work in excellent imitation of his employer's bullying manner.
"What is the matter, Mr. Sternsilver, you are all the time picking onme so?" Hillel demanded. "I am doing my best here and certainly if youdon't like my work I could quick go somewheres else. I ain't a_Schnorrer_ exactly, Mr. Sternsilver. I got in savings bank already acouple hundred dollars which I could easy start a shop of my own; so Iain't asking no favours from nobody."
"You shouldn't worry yourself, Fatkin," Sternsilver said. "Nobody isgoing to do you no favours around here. On the contrary, Fatkin, theway you are ruining garments around here, sooner as do you favours wewould sue you in the courts yet, and you could kiss yourself good-byewith your two hundred dollars in savings bank. Furthermore, for a
noperator you are altogether too independent, Fatkin."
"Maybe I am and maybe I ain't," Fatkin retorted with simple dignity."My father was anyhow from decent, respectable people in Grodno,Sternsilver; and even if I wouldn't got a sister which she is marriedto Sam Kupferberg's cousin, y'understand, Sam would quick fix me up bythe Madison Street court. You shouldn't throw me no bluffs,Sternsilver. Go ahead and sue."
He waited for his foreman to utter a suitable rejoinder, but none came,for in Fatkin's disclosure of a two-hundred dollar deposit in thesavings bank and his sister's relationship to Sam Kupferberg, thewell-known legal practitioner of Madison Street, Philip Sternsilverconceived a brilliant idea.
"I ain't saying we would sue you exactly, understand me," he replied."All I am saying, Hillel, is you should try and be a little morecareful with your work, y'understand."
Here Sternsilver looked over from Hillel's bovine features to the dullcountenance of Miss Bessie Saphir.
"A feller which he has got money in the bank and comes from decent,respectable people like you, Hillel," he concluded, "if they work hardthere is nothing which they couldn't do, y'understand. All they got tolook out for is they shouldn't Jonah themselves with their bosses,y'understand."
"Bosses!" Hillel repeated. "What d'ye mean, bosses? Might you got anidee you are my boss maybe, Sternsilver?"
"Me, I ain't saying nothing about it at all," Sternsilver declared. "Iam only saying something which it is for your own good; and if youdon't believe me, Hillel, come out with me lunch time and have a cupcoffee. I got a few words, something important, to tell you."
For the remainder of the forenoon Sternsilver busied himself about theinstruction of Miss Bessie Saphir. Indeed, so assiduously did he applyhimself to his task that at half-past eleven Mr. Seiden was moved toindignant comment. He beckoned Sternsilver to accompany him to theoffice and when he reached the door he broke into an angry tirade:
"_Nu_, Sternsilver," he began, "ain't you got to do nothing else butlearn that girl the whole morning? What do I pay a foreman wages heshould fool away his time like that?"
"What d'ye mean, fool away my time, Mr. Seiden?" Sternsilver protested."Ain't you told me I should learn her something, on account she is arelation from your wife already?"
"Sure, I told you you should learn her something," Seiden admitted;"but I ain't told you you should learn her everything in one morningalready. She ain't such a close relation as all that, y'understand. Thetrouble with you is, Sternsilver, you don't use your head at all. Aforeman must got to think oncet in a while, Sternsilver. Don't leaveall the thinking to the boss, Sternsilver. I got other things to bothermy head over, Sternsilver, without I should go crazy laying out thework in the shop for the foreman."
Thus admonished, Sternsilver returned to the workroom more stronglyconvinced than ever that, unless he could carry out the idea suggestedby his conversation with Fatkin, there would be a summary ending to hisjob as foreman. As soon, therefore, as the lunch-hour arrived hehustled Fatkin to a Bath-brick dairy restaurant and then and thereunfolded his scheme.
"Say, listen here, Fatkin," he commenced. "Why don't a young fellerlike you get married?"
Fatkin remained silent. He was soaking zwieback in coffee and applyingit to his face in such a manner that the greater part of it filled hismouth and rendered conversation impossible.
"There's many a nice girl, which she could cook herself and washherself A Number One, y'understand, would be only too glad to get adecent, respectable feller like you," Sternsilver went on.
Hillel Fatkin acknowledged the compliment by a tremendous fit ofcoughing, for in his embarrassment he had managed to inhale a crum ofthe zwieback. His effort to remove it nearly strangled him, but atlength the dislodged particle found a target in the right eye of anerrand boy sitting opposite. For some moments Sternsilver was unable toproceed, by reason of the errand boy's tribute to Hillel's tablemanners. Indeed, so masterly was this example of profane invective thatthe manager of the lunchroom, without inquiring into the merits of thecontroversy, personally led Hillel's victim to the door and kicked himfirmly into the gutter. After this, Philip Sternsilver proceeded withthe unfolding of his plan.
"Yes, Hillel," he said, "I mean it. For a young feller like you even agirl which she got rich relations like Seiden ain't too good."
"Seiden?" Hillel interrupted, with a supercilious shrug. "What isSeiden? I know his people from old times in Grodno yet. So poor theywere, y'understand, his _Grossmutter_ would be glad supposing my_Grossmutter_, _olav hasholam_, would send her round a couple piecesclothing to wash. The whole family was beggars--one worser as theother."
"Sure, I know," Philip said; "but look where he is to-day, Hillel. Yougot to give him credit, Hillel. He certainly worked himself upwonderful, and why? Because the feller saves his money, understand me,and then he turns around and goes to work to pick out a wife, andmarried right."
"What are you talking nonsense--got married right?" Hillel said. "Doyou mean to told me that Seiden is getting married right? An idee! Whatfor a family was all them Gubins, Sternsilver? The one Uncle Pesach wasa low-life bum--a _Shikerrer_ which he wouldn't stop at nothing, from_Schnapps_ to varnish. Furthermore, his father, y'understand, got intotrouble once on account he _ganvers_ a couple chickens; and if itwouldn't be for my _Grossvater_, which he was for years a _Rav_ inTelshi--a very learned man, Sternsilver--no one knows what would havebecome of them people at all."
For the remainder of the lunch-hour Hillel so volubly demonstratedhimself to be the Debrett, Burke, and Almanach de Gotha of Grodno,Telshi, and vicinity that Sternsilver was obliged to return to thefactory with his scheme barely outlined.
Nevertheless, on his journey back to Greene Street he managed tointerrupt Hillel long enough to ask him if he was willing to getmarried.
"I don't say I wouldn't," Hillel replied, "supposing I would get a nicegirl. _Aber_ one thing I wouldn't do, Sternsilver. I wouldn't take noone which she ain't coming from decent, respectable people, y'understand;and certainly, if a feller got a couple hundred dollars in savings bank,Sternsilver, he's got a right to expect a little consideration. Ain'tit?"
This ultimatum brought them to the door of the factory, and when theyentered further conversation was summarily prevented by Mr. Seidenhimself.
"Sternsilver," Mr. Seiden bellowed at him, "where was you?"
"Couldn't I get oncet in a while a few minutes I should eat my lunch,Mr. Seiden?" Sternsilver replied. "I am entitled to eat, ain't I, Mr.Seiden?"
"'Entitled to eat,' _sagt er_, when the operators is carrying on sothey pretty near tear the place to pieces already!" Seiden exclaimed."A foreman must got to be in the workroom, lunch-hour _oder_ nolunch-hour, Sternsilver. Me, I do everything here. I get no assistanceat all."
He walked off toward the office; and after Sternsilver had started upthe motor, which supplied power for the sewing-machines, he followedhis employer.
"Mr. Seiden," he began, "I don't know what comes over you lately.Seemingly nothing suits you at all--and me I am all the time doing myvery best to help you out."
"Is that so?" Seiden replied ironically. "Since when is the foremanhelping out the boss if he would go and spend a couple hours for hislunch, making a hog out of himself, Sternsilver?"
"I ain't making a hog out of myself, Mr. Seiden," Philip continued. "IfI am going out of the factory for my lunch, Mr. Seiden, I got myreasons for it."
Seiden glared at his foreman for some minutes; ordinarily Sternsilver'smanner was diffident to the point of timidity, and this newborn couragetemporarily silenced Mr. Seiden.
"The way you are talking, Sternsilver," he said at last, "to hear yougo on any one would think you are the boss and I am the foreman."
"In business, yes," Philip rejoined, "you are the boss, Mr. Seiden; butoutside of business a man could be a _Mensch_ as well as a foreman.Ain't it?"
Seiden stared at the unruffled Sternsilver, who allowed no opportunityfor a retort by immediately going on with his dissertation.
"Even operators also," he said. "Hillel Fatkin is an operator,y'understand, but he has got anyhow a couple hundred dollars in thesavings bank; and when it comes to family, Mr. Seiden, he's fromdecent, respectable people in the old country. His own grandfather wasa rabbi, y'understand."
"What the devil's that got to do with me, Sternsilver?" Seiden asked."I don't know what you are talking about at all."
Sternsilver disregarded the interruption.
"Operator _oder_ foreman, Mr. Seiden, what is the difference when itcomes to a poor girl like Miss Bessie Saphir, which, even supposing sheis a relation from your wife, she ain't so young no longer? Furthermore,with some faces which a girl got it she could have a heart from gold,y'understand, and what is it? Am I right or wrong, Mr. Seiden?"
Mr. Seiden made no reply. He was blinking at vacancy while his mindreverted to an afternoon call paid uptown by Mrs. Miriam Saphir. As acorollary, Mrs. Seiden had kept him awake half the night, and theburden of her jeremiad was: "What did you ever done for my relations?Tell me that."
"Say, lookyhere, Sternsilver," he said at length, "what are you tryingto drive into?"
"I am driving into this, Mr. Seiden," Philip replied: "Miss BessieSaphir must got to get married some time. Ain't it?"
Seiden nodded.
"_Schon gut!_" Sternsilver continued. "There's no time like thepresent."
A forced smile started to appear on Seiden's face, when the doorleading to the public hall opened and a bonneted and shawled figureappeared. It was none other than Mrs. Miriam Saphir.
"_Ai, tzuris!_" she cried; and sinking into the nearest chair she beganforthwith to rock to and fro and to beat her forehead with her clenchedfist.
"_Nu!_" Seiden exploded. "What's the trouble now?"
Mrs. Saphir ceased rocking. On leaving home she had provided herselfwith a pathetic story which would not only excuse her presence inSeiden's factory but was also calculated to wring at least seventy-fivecents from Seiden himself. Unfortunately she had forgotten to go overthe minor details of the narrative on her way downtown, and now eventhe main points escaped her by reason of a heated altercation with theconductor of a Third Avenue car. The matter in dispute was her tender,in lieu of fare, of a Brooklyn transfer ticket which she had foundbetween the pages of a week-old newspaper. For the first ten blocks ofher ride she had feigned ignorance of the English language, and fiveblocks more were consumed in the interpretation, by a well-meaningpassenger, of the conductor's urgent demands. Another five blockspassed in Mrs. Saphir's protestations that she had received thetransfer in question from the conductor of a Twenty-third Street car;failing the accuracy of which statement, she expressed the hope thather children should all drop dead and that she herself might never stirfrom her seat. This brought the car to Bleecker Street, where theconductor rang the bell and invited Mrs. Saphir to alight. Her firstimpulse was to defy him to the point of a constructive assault, withits attendant lawsuit against the railroad company; but she discoveredthat, in carrying out her project to its successful issue, she hadalready gone one block past her destination. Hence she walked leisurelydown the aisle; and after pausing on the platform to adjust her shawland bonnet she descended to the street with a parting scowl at theconductor, who immediately broke the bell-rope in starting the car.
"_Nu!_" Seiden repeated. "Couldn't you open your mouth at all? What'sthe matter?"
Mrs. Saphir commenced to rock tentatively, but Seiden stopped her witha loud "_Koosh!_"
"What do you want from me?" he demanded.
"_Meine Tochter_ Bessie," she replied, "she don't get on at all."
"What d'ye mean, she don't get on at all?" Seiden interrupted. "Ain't Idoing all I could for her? I am learning her the business; and what ismore, Mrs. Saphir, I got a feller which he wants to marry her, too.Ain't that right, Sternsilver?"
Philip nodded vigorously and Mrs. Saphir sat up in her chair.
"Him?" she asked.
"Sure; why not?" Seiden answered.
"But, Mr. Seiden----" Sternsilver cried.
"_Koosh_, Sternsilver," Seiden said. "Don't you mind that woman at all.If Bessie was my own daughter even, I would give my consent."
"_Aber_, Mr. Seiden----" Sternsilver cried again in anguished tones,but further protest was choked off by Mrs. Saphir, who rose from herseat with surprising alacrity and seized Philip around the neck. Forseveral minutes she kissed him with loud smacking noises, and by thetime he had disengaged himself Seiden had brought in Miss BessieSaphir. As she blushingly laid her hand in Sternsilver's unresistingclasp Seiden patted them both on the shoulder.
"For a business man, Sternsilver," he said, "long engagements is nix;and to show you that I got a heart, Sternsilver, I myself would pay forthe wedding, which would be in two weeks at the latest."
He turned to Mrs. Miriam Saphir.
"I congradulate you," he said. "And now get out of here!"
* * * * *
For the next ten days Mr. and Mrs. Seiden and Miss Saphir were so busywith preparations for the wedding that they had no leisure to observeSternsilver's behaviour. He proved to be no ardent swain; and, althoughBessie was withdrawn from the factory on the day following herbetrothal, Sternsilver called at her residence only twice during thefirst week of their engagement.
"I didn't think the feller got so much sense," Seiden commented whenBessie Saphir complained of Philip's coldness.
"He sees you got your hands full getting ready, so he don't bother youat all."
As for Seiden, he determined to spare no expense, up to two hundred andfifty dollars, in making the wedding festivites greatly redound to hiscredit both socially and in a business way.
To that end he had dispatched over a hundred invitations to thewholesale houses from which he purchased goods.
"You see what I am doing for you," he said to Sternsilver one morning,a week before the wedding day. "Not only in postage stamps I amspending my money but the printing also costs me a whole lot, too, Ibet yer."
"What is the use spending money for printing when you got a typewriterwhich she is setting half the time doing nothing, Mr. Seiden?" Philipprotested.
"That's what I told Mrs. Seiden," his employer replied, "and she goespretty near crazy. She even wanted me I should got 'em engraved, so_grossartig_ she becomes all of a sudden. Printing is good enough,Sternsilver. Just lookyhere at this now, how elegant it is."
He handed Philip an invitation which read as follows:
MR. AND MRS. I. SEIDEN AND MRS. MIRIAM SAPHIR
REQUEST THE HONOUR OF
THE INTERCOLONIAL TEXTILE COMPANY'S
PRESENCE AT THE MARRIAGE OF HER DAUGHTER
BESSIE
TO
MR. PHILIP STERNSILVER
ON THURSDAY, DECEMBER 16, 1909, AT SIX O'CLOCK
NEW RIGA HALL, 522 ALLEN STREET, NEW YORK
_Bride's Address:_ c/o SANSPAREIL WAIST COMPANY
ISAAC SEIDEN, _Proprietor_ Waists in Marquisette, Voile, Lingerie, Crepe and Novelty Silks also a Full Line of Lace and Hand-embroidered Waists
800 GREENE STREET, NEW YORK CITY
"What's the use you are inviting a corporation to a wedding, Mr.Seiden?" Philip said as he returned the invitation with a heavy sigh."A corporation couldn't eat nothing, Mr. Seiden."
"Sure, I know," Seiden replied. "I ain't asking 'em they should eatanything, Sternsilver. All I am wanting of 'em is this: Here it is inblack and white. Me and Beckie and that old _Schnorrer_, Mrs. Saphir,requests the honour of the Intercolonial Company's presents at themarriage of their daughter. You should know a corporation's presents isjust as good as anybody else's presents, Sternsilver. Ain't it?"
Sternsilver nodded gloomily.
"Also I am sending invitations to a dozen of my best customers and to acouple of high-price sales-men. Them fellers should loosen up alsooncet in a while. Ain't I right?"
Again Sternsilver nodded and returned to the factory where, a
t hourlyintervals during the following week, Seiden accosted him and issuedbulletins of the arrival of wedding presents and the acceptance ofinvitations to the ceremony.
"What do you think for a couple of small potatoes like Kugel &Mishkin?" he said. "If I bought a cent from them people during the lastfive years I must of bought three hundred dollars' worth of buttons;and they got the nerve to send a half a dozen coffee spoons, which theyare so light, y'understand, you could pretty near see through 'em."
Sternsilver received this news with a manner suggesting a crampedswimmer coming up for the second time.
"Never mind, Sternsilver," Seiden continued reassuringly, "we got awhole lot of people to hear from yet. I bet yer the Binder & BaumManufacturing Company, the least you get from 'em is a piece of cutglass which it costs, at wholesale yet, ten dollars."
Sternsilver's distress proceeded from another cause, however; for thatvery morning he had made a desperate resolve, which was no less than toleave the Borough of Manhattan and to begin life anew in Philadelphia.From the immediate execution of the plan he was deterred only by onecircumstance--lack of funds; and this he proposed to overcome byborrowing from Fatkin. Indeed, when he pondered the situation, hebecame convinced that Fatkin, as the cause of his dilemma, ought to bethe means of his extrication. He therefore broached the matter of aloan more in the manner of a lender than a borrower.
"Say, lookyhere, Fatkin," he said on the day before the wedding, "I gotto have some money right away."
Fatkin shrugged philosophically.
"A whole lot of fellers feels the same way," he said.
"Only till Saturday week," Sternsilver continued, "and I want youshould give me twenty-five dollars."
"Me?" Fatkin exclaimed.
"Sure, you," Sternsilver said; "and I want it now."
"Don't make me no jokes, Sternsilver," Fatkin replied.
"I ain't joking, Fatkin; far from it," Sternsilver declared. "To-morrowit is all fixed for the wedding and I got to have twenty-five dollars."
"What d'ye mean, to-morrow is fixed for the wedding?" Fatkin retortedindignantly. "Do you want to get married on my money yet?"
"I don't want the money to get married on," Sternsilver protested. "Iwant it for something else again."
"My worries! What you want it for?" Fatkin concluded, with a note offinality in his tone. "I would _oser_ give you twenty-five cents."
"'S enough, Fatkin!" Sternsilver declared. "I heard enough from youalready. You was the one which got me into this _Schlemazel_ and nowyou should get me out again."
"What do you mean, getting you into a _Schlemazel_?"
"You know very well what I mean," Philip replied; "and, furthermore,Fatkin, you are trying to make too free with me. Who are you, anyhow,you should turn me down when I ask you for a few days twenty-fivedollars? You act so independent, like you would be the foreman."
Hillel nodded slowly, not without dignity.
"Never mind, Sternsilver," he said; "if my family would got a relation,y'understand, which he is working in Poliakoff's Bank and he is got torun away on account he is missing in five thousand rubles, which it isthe same name Sternsilver, and everybody in Kovno--the childreneven--knows about it, understand me, I wouldn't got to be so stuck upat all."
Sternsilver flushed indignantly.
"Do you mean to told me," he demanded, "that I got in my family such aman which he is stealing five thousand rubles, Fatkin?"
"That's what I said," Hillel retorted.
"Well, it only goes to show what a liar you are," Sternsilver rejoined."Not only was it he stole ten thousand rubles, y'understand, but thebank was run by a feller by the name Louis Moser."
"All right," Fatkin said as he started up his sewing-machine by way ofsignifying that the interview was at an end. "All right, Sternsilver;if you got such a relation which he _ganvered_ ten thousand rubles,y'understand, borrow from him the twenty-five dollars."
Thus Sternsilver was obliged to amend his resolution by substitutingJersey City for Philadelphia as the seat of his new start in life; andat half-past eleven that evening, when the good ferryboat _Cincinnati_drew out of her slip at the foot of Desbrosses Street, a short,thick-set figure leaned over her bow and gazed sadly, perhaps for thelast time, at the irregular sky-line of Manhattan. It was Sternsilver.
* * * * *
When Mr. Seiden arrived at his factory the following morning he foundhis entire force of operators gathered on the stairway and overflowingon to the sidewalk.
"What is the matter you are striking on me?" he cried.
"Striking!" Hillel Fatkin said. "What do you mean, striking on you, Mr.Seiden? We ain't striking. Sternsilver ain't come down this morning andnobody was here he should open up the shop."
"Do you mean to told me Sternsilver ain't here?" Seiden exclaimed.
"All right; then I'm a liar, Mr. Seiden," Hillel replied. "You asked mea simple question, Mr. Seiden, and I give you a plain, straightforwardanswer. My _Grossvater_, _olav hasholam_, which he was a very learnedman--for years a rabbi in Telshi--used to say: 'If some one tells youyou are lying, understand me, and----"
At this juncture Seiden opened the factory door and the entire mob ofworkmen plunged forward, sweeping Hillel along, with his quotation fromthe ethical maxims of his grandfather only half finished. For the nextquarter of an hour Seiden busied himself in starting up his factory andthen he repaired to the office to open the mail.
In addition to three or four acceptances of invitations there was adirty envelope bearing on its upper left-hand corner the mark of athird-rate Jersey City hotel. Seiden ripped it open and unfolded asheet of letter paper badly scrawled in Roman capitals as follows:
"December 12.
"I. SEIDEN:
"We are come to tell you which Mr. Philip Sternsilver is gone out West to Kenses Citter. So don't fool yourself he would not be at the wedding. What do you think a fine man like him would marry such a cow like Miss Bessie Saphir?
"And oblige yours truly,
"A. WELLWISHER."
For at least a quarter of an hour after reading the letter Mr. Seidensat in his office doing sums in mental arithmetic. He added postage oninvitations to cost of printing same and carried the result in hismind; next he visualized in one column the sum paid for furnishingBessie's flat, the price of Mrs. Seiden's new dress--estimated;caterers' fees for serving dinner and hire of New Riga Hall. The totalfairly stunned him, and for another quarter of an hour he remainedseated in his chair. Then came the realization that twenty-fivecommission houses, two high-grade drummers, and at least fivecustomers, rating L to J credit good, were even then preparing toattend a groomless wedding; and he spurred himself to action.
He ran to the telephone, but as he grabbed the receiver from the hookhe became suddenly motionless.
"_Nu_," he murmured after a few seconds. "Why should I make a damnfool of myself and disappoint all them people for a greenhorn likeSternsilver?"
Once more he sought his chair, and incoherent plans for retrieving thesituation chased one another through his brain until he felt that hisintellect was giving way. It was while he was determining to call thewhole thing off that Hillel Fatkin entered.
"Mr. Seiden," he said, "could I speak to you a few words something?"
He wore an air of calm dignity that only a long rabbinical ancestry cangive, and his errand in his employer's office was to announce hisimpending resignation, as a consequence of Seiden's offensiveindifference to the memory of Hillel's grandfather. When Seiden lookedup, however, his mind reverted not to Hillel's quotation of hisgrandfather's maxims, but to Sternsilver's conversation on the day ofthe betrothal; and Hillel's dignity suggested to him, instead ofdistinguished ancestry, a savings-bank account of two hundred dollars.He jumped immediately to his feet.
"Sit down, Fatkin," he cried.
Hillel seated himself much as his grandfather might have done in thehouse of an humble disciple, blending dignity and cond
escension in justthe right proportions.
"So," he said, referring to Mr. Seiden's supposed contrition for theaffront to the late rabbi, "when it is too late, Mr. Seiden, you aresorry."
"What do you mean, sorry?" Mr. Seiden replied. "Believe me, Fatkin, Iam glad to be rid of the feller. I could get just as good foremen ashim without going outside this factory even--for instance, you."
"Me!" Fatkin cried.
"Sure; why not?" Seiden continued. "A foreman must got to be fresh tothe operators, anyhow; and if you ain't fresh, Fatkin, I don't know whois."
"Me fresh!" Fatkin exclaimed.
"I ain't kicking you are too fresh, y'understand," Seiden said. "I amonly saying you are fresh enough to be a foreman."
Fatkin shrugged. "Very well, Mr. Seiden," he said in a mannercalculated to impress Seiden with the magnitude of the favour. "Verywell; if you want me to I would go to work as foreman for you."
Seiden with difficulty suppressed a desire to kick Hillel and smiledblandly.
"_Schon gut_," he said. "You will go to work Monday morning."
"Why not to-day, Mr. Seiden?" Hillel asked.
Seiden smiled again and this time it was not so bland as it wasmechanical, suggesting the pulling of an invisible string.
"Because, Fatkin, you are going to be too busy to-day," Seiden replied."A feller couldn't start in to work as a foreman and also get marriedall in one day."
Hillel stared at his employer.
"Me get married, Mr. Seiden! What are you talking nonsense, Mr. Seiden?I ain't going to get married at all."
"Oh, yes, you are, Fatkin," Seiden replied. "You are going to getmarried to Miss Bessie Saphir at New Riga Hall, on Allen Street,to-night, six o'clock sharp; otherwise you wouldn't go to work asforeman at all."
Hillel rose from his chair and then sat down again.
"Do you mean to told me I must got to marry Miss Bessie Saphir before Ican go to work as foreman?" he demanded.
"You got it right, Fatkin," Seiden said.
"Then I wouldn't do no such thing," Fatkin retorted and made for thedoor.
"Hold on!" Seiden shouted, seizing Fatkin by the arm. "Don't be a fool,Fatkin. What are you throwing away a hundred dollars cash for?"
"Me throw away a hundred dollars cash?" Fatkin blurted out.
"Sure," Seiden answered. "If you would marry Miss Bessie Saphir youwould not only get by me a job as foreman, but also I am willing togive you a hundred dollars cash."
Fatkin returned to the office and again sat down opposite his employer.
"Say, lookyhere, Mr. Seiden," he said, "I want to tell you something.You are springing on me suddenly a proposition which it is somethingyou could really say is remarkable. Ain't it?"
Seiden nodded.
"Miss Bessie Saphir, which she is anyhow--her own best friend would gotto admit it--homely like anything, Mr. Seiden," Fatkin continued, "isgoing to marry Sternsilver; and just because Sternsilver runs away, Ishould jump in and marry her like I would be nobody!"
Seiden nodded again.
"Another thing, Mr. Seiden," Hillel went on. "What is a hundred dollars?My _Grossvater_, _olav hasholam_--which he was a very learned man, foryears a rabbi in Telshi----"
"Sure, I know, Fatkin," Seiden interrupted. "You told me that before."
"--for years a rabbi in Telshi," Hillel repeated, not deigning tonotice the interruption save by a malevolent glare, "used to say: 'Soonmarried, quick divorced.' Why should I bring _tzuris_ on myself bydoing this thing, Mr. Seiden?"
Seiden treated the question as rhetorical and made no reply.
"Also I got in bank nearly three hundred dollars, Mr. Seiden," heconcluded; "and even if I was a feller which wouldn't be from such finefamily in the old country, understand me, three hundred dollars isthree hundred dollars, Mr. Seiden, and that's all there is to it."
Seiden pondered deeply for a minute.
"All right, Fatkin," he said; "make it a hundred and fifty dollars_und fertig_."
"Three hundred dollars _oder_ nothing!" Fatkin replied firmly; andafter half an hour of more or less acrid discussion Fatkin agreed toaccept Miss Bessie Saphir plus three hundred dollars and a job asforeman.
* * * * *
An inexplicable phase of the criminal's character is the instinct whichimpels him to revisit the scene of his crime; and, whether he was ledthither by a desire to gloat or by mere vulgar curiosity, PhilipSternsilver slunk within the shadow of an L-road pillar on Allen Streetopposite New Riga Hall promptly at half-past five that evening.
First to arrive was Isaac Seiden himself. He bore a heavily ladensuitcase, and his face was distorted in an expression of such intensegloom that Sternsilver almost found it in his heart to be sorry for hislate employer.
Mrs. Seiden, Miss Bessie Saphir, and Mrs. Miriam Saphir next appeared.They were chattering in an animated fashion and passed into the hall ina gale of laughter.
"Must be he didn't told 'em yet," Sternsilver muttered to himself.
Then came representatives of commission houses and several L to Jcustomers attired in appropriate wedding finery; and as they enteredthe hall Sternsilver deemed that the pertinent moment for disappearinghad arrived. He left hurriedly before the advent of two high-gradesalesmen, or he might have noticed in their wake the dignified figureof Hillel Fatkin, arrayed in a fur overcoat, which covered a suit ofevening clothes and was surmounted by a high silk hat. Hillel walkedslowly, as much in the realization that haste was unbecoming to abridegroom as on account of his patent-leather shoes, which were half asize too small for him; for the silk hat, fur overcoat, patent-leathershoes, and dress suit were all hired, and formed Combination WeddingOutfit No. 6 in the catalogue of the Imperial Dress-suit Parlour onRivington Street. It was listed at five dollars a wedding, but theproprietress, to whom Hillel had boasted of his rabbinical ancestry,concluded to allow him a clerical discount of 20 per cent. when hehesitated between his ultimate selection and the three dollarCombination No. 4, which did not include the fur overcoat.
The extra dollar was well invested, for the effect of Combination No. 6upon Miss Bessie Saphir proved to be electrical. At first sight of it,she dismissed forever the memory of the fickle Sternsilver, who, at thevery moment when Bessie and Hillel were plighting their troth, regaledhimself with _mohnkuchen_ and coffee at a neighbouring cafe.
He sat in an obscure corner behind the lady cashier's desk; and as heconsumed his supper with hearty appetite he could not help overhearingthe conversation she was carrying on with a rotund personage who wasnone other than Sam Kupferberg, the well-known Madison Street advocate.
"For a greenhorn like him," said Sam, "he certainly done well. He ain'tbeen in the place a year, y'understand, and to-night he marries arelation of his boss and he gets a job as foreman and three hundreddollars in the bargain."
The cashier clucked with her tongue. "S'imagine!" she commented.
"Mind you," Sam continued, "only this afternoon yet, Seiden tells himhe should marry the girl, as this other feller backed out; and hestands out for three hundred dollars, y'understand, and a job asforeman. What could Seiden do? He had to give in, and they're beingmarried right now in New Riga Hall."
"S'imagine!" the cashier said again, adjusting her pompadour.
"And, furthermore," Sam continued, "the girl is a relation of Seiden'swife, y'understand."
"My Gawd, ketch him!" the cashier exclaimed; and Sam Kupferberg grabbedPhilip Sternsilver just as he was disappearing into the street. It wassome minutes before Philip could be brought to realize that he owed tencents for his supper, but when he was at length released he made up forlost time. His progress down Allen Street was marked by two overturnedpushcarts and a trail of tumbled children; and, despite this havoc,when he arrived at New Riga Hall the ceremony was finished by half anhour or more.
Indeed, the guests were gathered about the supper table and soup hadjust been served, when the proprietor of the hall tiptoed to the bridaltable and whispered in Isaac S
eiden's ear:
"A feller by the name of Sternsilver wants to speak a few wordssomething to you," he said.
Seiden turned pale, and leaving half a plateful of soup uninhaled herose from the table and followed the proprietor to the latter's privateoffice. There sat Philip Sternsilver gasping for breath.
"Murderer!" he shouted as Seiden entered. "You are shedding my blood."
"_Koosh_, Sternsilver!" Seiden hissed. "Ain't you got no shame for thepeople at all?"
"Where is my Bessie--my life?" Sternsilver wailed. "Without you aremaking any inquiries at all you are marrying her to a loafer. Me, I amnothing! What is it to you I am pretty near killed in the street lastnight and must got to go to a hospital! For years I am working for youalready, day in, day out, without I am missing a single forenooneven--and you are treating me like this!"
It was now Seiden's turn to gasp.
"What d'ye mean?" he cried, searching in his coat pocket. "Ain't youwrote me this here letter?"
He produced the missive received by him that morning and handed it toSternsilver, who, unnoticed by the excited Seiden, returned it withouteven glancing at its contents.
"I never seen it before," he declared. "Why should I write printing?Don't you suppose I can write writing, Mr. Seiden?"
"Who did send it, then?" Seiden asked.
"It looks to me"--said Sternsilver, who grew calmer as Seiden becamemore agitated--"it looks to me like that sucker Fatkin writes it."
"What!" Seiden yelled. "And me I am paying him cash three hundreddollars he should marry that girl! Even a certified check he wouldn'taccept."
Although this information was not new to Sternsilver, to hear it thusat first hand seemed to infuriate him.
"What!" he howled. "You are giving that greenhorn three hundred dollarsyet to marry such a beautiful girl like my Bessie!"
He buried his face in his hands and rocked to and fro in his chair.
"Never mind, Sternsilver," Seiden said comfortingly; "you shouldn'ttake on so--she ain't so beautiful; and, as for that feller Fatkin----"
"You are talking about me, Mr. Seiden?" said a voice in the doorway.
Sternsilver looked up and once again Wedding Outfit Combination No. 6conquered; for assuredly, had Fatkin been arrayed in his workingclothes, he would have suffered a personal assault at the hands of hislate foreman.
"Mr. Seiden," Fatkin continued, "never mind; I could stand it somebodycalls me names, but Mr. Latz wants to know what is become of you forthe last quarter of an hour. Mr. Latz tells me during November alone hebuys from us eight hundred dollars goods."
"Us!" Seiden cried, employing three inflections to the monosyllable.
Before Seiden could protest further, however, Sternsilver had recoveredfrom the partial hypnosis of Combination No. 6, and he gave tongue likea foxhound:
"_Oe-ee tzuris!_" he wailed.
"_Koosh!_" Fatkin cried, closing the door. "What do you want here?"
"You know what I want," Sternsilver sobbed. "You are stealing from methree hundred dollars."
Fatkin turned to Seiden and gazed at him reproachfully.
"Mr. Seiden," he said, "what for you are telling me that Sternsilverwouldn't get a cent with Bessie? And you are trying to get me I shouldbe satisfied with a hundred dollars yet. Honestly, Mr. Seiden, I amsurprised at you."
"_Schmooes_, Fatkin!" Seiden protested. "I never promised to give himnothing. Dreams he got it."
Sternsilver rose from his seat.
"Do you mean to told me that a greenhorn like him you would give threehundred dollars," he asked, "and me you wouldn't give nothing?"
"You!" Fatkin bellowed. "What are you? You are coming to me throwing abluff that you got a relation by the name of Sternsilver, which he_ganvers_ ten thousand rubles from Moser's Bank, in Kovno; and thisafternoon yet, I find out the feller's name was Steinsilver--notSternsilver; which he ain't got a relation in the world, y'understand.Faker!"
Sternsilver nodded his head slowly.
"Faker, am I?" he said. "All right, Mr. Fatkin; if I am a faker I willshow you what I would do. You and this here Seiden fix it up betweenyou, because I am all of a sudden sick in the hospital, that you stealaway my Bessie and the three hundred dollars also. _Schon gut!_ I wouldsue you both in the courts _und fertig_!"
"Sternsilver is right, in a way," Seiden said, "even though he is abum. What for did you write me this letter, Fatkin?"
"Me write you that letter, Mr. Seiden!" Fatkin protested as he lookedat the document in question. "Why, Mr. Seiden, I can't write printing.It is all I can do to write writing. And, besides, Mr. Seiden, untilyou are telling me about getting married, the idee never enters my headat all."
There could be no mistaking Fatkin's sincerity, and Seiden turned toSternsilver with a threatening gesture.
"Out!" he cried. "Out of here before I am sending for a policeman togive you arrested."
"Don't make me no bluffs, Seiden!" Sternsilver answered calmly. "Eitheryou would got to settle with me now _oder_ I would go right upstairsand tell them commission houses and customers which you got there allabout it. What do you take me for, Seiden--a greenhorn?"
"Fatkin," Seiden commanded, "do you hear what I am telling you? Takethis loafer and throw him into the street."
"Me?" Fatkin said. "What are you talking nonsense, Mr. Seiden? I shouldthrow him into the street when I am standing to lose on the coat aloneten dollars!"
Seiden looked at Fatkin and the validity of his objection was at onceapparent.
"_Nu_, Sternsilver," he said. "Be a good feller. Here is five dollars.Go away and leave us alone."
Sternsilver laughed aloud.
"You are talking like I would be a child, Seiden!" he said. "Either youwould give me cash a hundred dollars _oder_ I would go right awayupstairs to the customers."
Seiden turned to Fatkin.
"Fatkin," he said, "I am giving you this evening three hundred dollars.Give him a hundred dollars and be done with it."
"What d'ye mean, me give him a hundred dollars, Mr. Seiden?" Fatkindemanded. "They ain't my customers."
At this juncture the proprietor of the hall opened the door.
"Mr. Seiden," he said, "everybody is through eating; so, if you wouldgive me the key to the suitcase which you got the cigars and _Schnapps_in, Mr. Seiden, I would hand 'em around."
"I'll be there in a minute," Seiden replied. He turned to Sternsilverand made one last appeal. "_Nu_, Sternsilver," he said, "would youtake a check?"
"_Oser_ a _Stueck_," Sternsilver declared; but, although for fiveminutes he maintained his refusal, he finally relented.
"Well, Mr. Seiden," he said, offering his hand, "I congradulate you."
Seiden refused the proffered palm and started for the door. Before hereached it, however, Fatkin grabbed him by the arm.
"At such a time like this, Mr. Seiden," he said, "you couldn't affordto be small."
Once more Sternsilver held out his hand and this time Seiden shook itlimply.
"No bad feelings, Mr. Seiden," Sternsilver said, and Seiden shruggedimpatiently.
"You, I don't blame at all, Sternsilver," he said. "I am making from myown self a sucker yet. A feller shouldn't never even begin with hiswife's relations."
* * * * *
At the end of a year Hillel Fatkin left the employ of the SanspareilWaist Company to embark in the garment business on his own account.Many reasons contributed to this move, chief of which was the arrivalof a son in Fatkin's household.
"And we would call him Pesach," Hillel said to his mother-in-lawshortly after the birth of his heir, "after your Uncle Pesach Gubin."
"My Uncle Pesach Gubin!" Mrs. Miriam Saphir protested. "What are youtalking nonsense, Hillel? That lowlife is Mrs. Seiden's uncle, not myuncle."
"Your cousin, then," Hillel continued. "What's the difference if he'syour cousin _oder_ your uncle--we would call the boy after him, anyhow."
"Call the boy after that drinker--that bum! What
for? The feller ain'tno relation to me at all. Why should we call the precious lamb afterBeckie Seiden's relations?"
"Do you mean to told me," he said, "that Pesach Gubin ain't no relationto Bessie at all?"
Mrs. Saphir nodded and blushed.
"The way families is mixed up nowadays, Hillel," she said, "it don't dono harm to claim relation with some people."
Her face commenced to resume its normal colour.
"Especially," she added, "if they got money."
The Competitive Nephew Page 3
