"I always paid prompt my bills. Ain't it?" M. Garfunkel asked.
"Sure, Mr. Garfunkel," Abe replied. "_That_ you did do it. But ninety
days is three months, and ourselves we got to pay our bills in thirty
days."
"However," Morris broke in, "that is neither there nor here. A good
customer is a good customer, Abe, and so _I'm_ agreeable."
This put the proposition squarely up to Abe, and he found it a difficult
matter to refuse credit to a customer whose check for two thousand
dollars was even then reposing in Abe's waistcoat pocket.
"All right," Abe said. "Go ahead and pick out your goods."
For two solid hours M. Garfunkel went over Potash & Perlmutter's line
and, selecting hundred lots of their choicest styles, bought a
three-thousand-dollar order.
"We ain't got but half of them styles in stock," said Morris, "but we
can make 'em up right away."
"Then, them goods what you got in stock, Mawruss," said Garfunkel, "I
must have prompt by to-morrow, and the others in ten days."
"That's all right," Morris replied, and when M. Garfunkel left the store
Abe and Morris immediately set about the assorting of the ordered stock.
"Look a-here, Mawruss," Abe said, "I thought you was going to see about
that girl for my Rosie."
"Why, so I was, Abe," Morris replied; "I'll attend to it right away."
He went to the telephone and rang up his wife, and five minutes later
returned to the front of the store.
"Ain't that the funniest thing, Abe," he said.
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