Abe and Mawruss: Being Further Adventures of Potash and Perlmutter. Glass Montague

      Morris laughed mirthlessly. His discarded plan for renewing his acquaintance with Uncle Mosha had involved the pretence that he was seeking to interest the old gentleman in the Home for Chronic Invalids, Independent Order Mattai Aaron, of which fraternity Morris was an active member; and Uncle Mosha's apparent distaste for organized charity proved rather disconcerting.

      "You're a poor guesser, Mr. Kronberg," he said.

      "Then you are connected with some charity. Ain't it?" Uncle Mosha continued.

      Morris denied it indignantly.

      "Gott soil hüten," he said. "My name is Mr. Perlmutter and I am in the cloak and suit business."

      "Oh, I remember now!" Uncle Mosha cried. The news that Morris was no charity worker restored him to high good-humour.

      "I remember you perfect now," he said, shaking hands effusively with Morris. "You got a partner by the name Potash, ain't it?"

      "That's right," Morris replied.

      "And what brings you over here in this nachbarschaft?" Uncle Mosha inquired.

      Morris looked from Uncle Mosha to the tarnished brass plate on the side of the tenement-house door. It read as follows: