sumed an air of such dignity, not
to say majesty, that to Abe, it seemed as though he had never rightly
known his partner until that moment.

"Now look on the other side of that label," Morris cried.

Once more the label went the rounds and after Emil Pilz had examined it
he put on his hat and made for the elevator. Almost on tiptoe Professor
Ladislaw Wcelak followed him, while Aaron repaired to the cutting room
and packed up his belongings, preparatory to forsaking a career as
cutter for one of music.

At length only old man Hubai remained.

"What are you waiting for?" Morris demanded.

"Me poor man," Hubai said. "Me no got carfare, me no got _Trinkgeld_, me
no got nothing."

Morris handed him a quarter and he shuffled off toward the backstairs.
Meantime Abe staggered to his feet and passed his hand over his
forehead.

"Tell me, Mawruss," he said, "what is all this about?"

"It's just what I says just now, Abe," Morris exploded. "That expert
seen the wrong fiddle. The fiddle you gave Geigermann is no more three
hundred years old than I am."

"Why ain't it?" Abe asked.

For answer Morris handed him the label. On the obverse side Abe read the
inscription:

Nicolaus Amati Cremonensis Faciebai Anno 1670.

"Now turn it over," Morris said; and Abe described on the reverse side a
familiar oval mark bearing the following inscription:

Allied Printers Trades Council, Union Label, New York City.

CHAPTER SEVEN

BROTHERS ALL

"What is the use talking, Mawruss?" Abe Potash protested. "The feller
couldn't even talk ten words English at all."

"Sure, I know," Morris Perlmutter admitted; "but he would quick learn."

"Quick learn!" Abe exclaimed. "What d'ye mean, quick learn? Nowadays I
never seen the like! A greenhorn comes over here from Russland which he
is such an iggeramus he don't know his own name, understand me; and he
expects right away to get a job in a cloak-and-suit concern uptown,
where they would learn him how he should talk English and at the same
time pay him ten dollars a week. Actually, Mawruss, them fellers thinks
they are doing you a favour if they ruin ten garments a day on you in
exchange for learning 'em English. Me, when I come over from Russland, I
was _oser_ so _grossartig_. I was glad to got a job learning on shirts
in a subcellar and the boss boards me for wages. I got an elegant bill
of fare, too, I bet yer, Mawruss. Every day for dinner is salt herring
and potatoe