to do we should pick out a few good styles to show
Gershon."

Morris nodded absently. His thoughts were centred on a short old man
with close-cropped beard who at that very moment was turning the corner
of Fifth Avenue and Nineteenth Street. Simultaneously Aaron Kronberg ran
across the street from Sammet Brothers' doorway and clapped the old
gentleman on the shoulder.

"Hello, Uncle Mosha!" he cried. "What are you doing around here?"

"Couldn't I come uptown oncet in a while if I would want to?" Uncle
Mosha replied, somewhat testily.

"Sure, sure," Aaron Kronberg hastened to say. "Did you eat yet?"

"I never eat in the middle of the day," Uncle Mosha said. "I am up here
on business."

"On business?" Aaron repeated. "What for business?"

"I think I sold the house," Mosha replied.

For one brief moment Aaron gazed at his uncle and then he linked his arm
in that of the old man. "Come over to Twenty-third Street and drink
anyhow a cup of coffee," he said, and ten minutes later they entered an
enamelled brick dairy restaurant.

"You say you think you sold the house?" Aaron said, after a waitress had
served them.

Uncle Mosha nodded. He was emptying a cup of coffee in long, noisy
inhalations and at the same time consuming cheese sandwiches with
uncommonly keen appetite--for a man who never ate in the middle of the
day.

"Yes, Aaron," Uncle Mosha said, as he emerged all dripping from the cup,
"I think I sold the house, and I guess I would have another cup
coffee."

"Go ahead," Aaron replied. "But what for you want to sell the house,
Uncle Mosha? It brings you in anyhow a good income."

"A good income for some people, Aaron, but for me not. What is one
thousand a year, Aaron?"

"One thousand a year, uncle, is a whole lot, especially to a man like
you, what lives simple."

"My living expenses is very little, I admit, Aaron," Uncle Mosha
replied, after he had disposed of the second cup of coffee with noises
approximating a bathtubful of soapy water disappearing down the
wastepipe. "I don't make no fuss about my living, Aaron, but you got to
remember, Aaron, that a man couldn't live on living expenses alone.
Oncet in a while a feller likes to take a little flyer in the market and
try and make a few dollars. Ain't it?"

"What!" Aaron exclaimed. This was a phase of his uncle's character that
had never been exposed before.

"Yes, Aaron," Uncle Mosha continued; "living ain't only having a room to
sleep in and