Potash Perlmutter | Page 4

as security for
twelve hundred, and when I get through with paying DeWitt C.
Feinholtz, his son-in-law, what is the bank's lawyer, there wouldn't be
enough left from that twelve hundred dollars to pay off my operators."
"That's the way it is when a feller's short of money," Noblestone said.
"Now, if you would got it a partner with backing, y'understand, you

wouldn't never got to be short again."
With this introductory sentence, Noblestone launched out upon a series
of persuasive arguments, which only ended when Morris Perlmutter
had promised to lunch with Zudrowsky, Harry Federmann and
Noblestone at Wasserbauer's Café and Restaurant the following
afternoon at one o'clock.
For the remainder of the day, Philip Noblestone interviewed as much of
the cloak and suit trade as he could cover, with respect to Morris
Perlmutter's antecedents, and the result was entirely satisfactory. He
ascertained that Morris had worked his way up from shipping clerk,
through the various grades, until he had reached the comparative
eminence of head cutter, and his only failing was that he had embarked
in business with less capital than experience. At first he had met with
moderate success, but a dull season in the cloak trade had temporarily
embarrassed him, and the consensus of opinion among his competitors
was that he had a growing business but was over-extended.
Thus when Noblestone repaired to the office of Zudrowsky & Cohen at
closing time that afternoon, he fairly outdid himself extolling Morris
Perlmutter's merits, and he presented so high colored a picture that
Zudrowsky deprecated the business broker's enthusiasm.
"Say, looky here, Noblestone," he said, "enough's enough. All I want is
a partner for my son-in-law which would got common sense and a little
judgment. That's all. I don't expect no miracles, y'understand, and the
way I understand it from you, this feller Morris Perlmutter is got a
business head like Andrew Carnegie already and a shape like John
Drew."
"I never mentioned his name because I don't know that feller at all,"
Noblestone protested. "But Perlmutter is a fine business man, Mr.
Zudrowsky, and he's a swell dresser, too."
"A feller what goes to a bank looking for accommodations,"
Zudrowsky replied, "naturally don't put on his oldest clothes,
y'understand, but anyhow, Noblestone, if you would be around here at

half past twelve to-morrow, I will see that Harry gets here too, and we
will go down to Wasserbauer's and meet the feller."
It was precisely one o'clock the following day when Morris Perlmutter
seated himself at a table in the rear of Wasserbauer's Café and
Restaurant.
"Yes, sir, right away!" Louis, the waiter, cried, as he deposited a plate
of dill pickles on the adjoining table, at which sat a stout middle-aged
person with a napkin tucked in his neck.
"Koenigsberger Klops is good to-day, Mr. Potash," Louis announced.
"Pushing the stickers, Louis, ain't it?" the man at the next table said.
"You couldn't get me to eat no chopped meat which customers left on
their plates last week already. I never believe in buying seconds, Louis.
Give me a piece of roast beef, well done, and a baked potato."
"Right away, Mr. Potash," Louis said, as he passed on to Perlmutter's
table. "Now, sir, what could I do for you?"
"Me, I am waiting here for somebody," Morris replied. "Bring me a
glass of water and we will give our order later."
"Right away!" said Louis, and hustled off to fill Abe Potash's order,
whereat Abe selected a dill pickle to beguile the tedium of waiting. He
grasped it firmly between his thumb and finger, and neatly bisected it
with his teeth. Simultaneously the pickle squirted, and about a quarter
of a pint of the acid juice struck Morris Perlmutter in the right eye.
"Excuse me," Abe cried. "Excuse me."
"S'all right," Morris replied. "I seen what you was doing and I should of
ordered an umbrella instead of a glass of water already."
Abe laughed uproariously.
"Dill pickles is uncertain like Paris fashions," he commented. "You
could never tell what they would do next."

"I bet yer," Morris replied. "Last year people was buying silks like they
was crazy, y'understand, and this year you would think silks was poison.
A buyer wouldn't touch 'em at all, and that's the way it goes."
Abe rose with the napkin tucked in his neck, and carrying the dish of
dill pickles with him, he sat down at Morris' table, to which Louis
brought the roast beef a moment later.
"I seen you was in the cloak and suit business as soon as I looked at
you," Abe said. "I guess I'll eat here till your friends come."
"Go ahead," Morris replied. "It's already quarter past one, and if them
fellers don't come soon, I'm going to eat, too."
"What's the use