contempt; "any
hours are good enough for <i>your</i> business."

"You are drunk again, Hippus," answered Veitel, thoroughly roused. "How
often have I told you that I will have nothing to do with you when you
come out of the spirit-shop?"

"Indeed!" cried Hippus; "you son of a witch, my visit is at all times an
honor to you. I drunk!" he hiccoughed out; "and with what, you
jack-pudding you? How is a man to get drunk," he screamed out, "when he
has not wherewithal to pay for a glass?"

"I knew that he was without money again," said Veitel, in exasperation.
"I gave you a dollar quite lately, but you are a perfect sponge. It is a
pity to waste a farthing upon you."

"You will prove, though, that it is not at all a pity," answered the old
man, tauntingly; "you will give me ten dollars here on the spot."

"That I will not," cried Veitel. "I am sick of supplying you. You know
our agreement; you are only to have money given you when you do
something for me in return. And now you are not in a condition either to
read or write."

"I am always good enough for you and such as you, even if I had had a
ten times better breakfast," said the old man, more calmly. "Give me
what you have got for me to do. You are become a covetous rascal, but
I'll put up with you. I will forgive your having denied yourself; I will
forgive your having become a presumptuous ass--making a show with lamps
that were meant for your betters; and I will not deprive you of my
advice, provided, be it understood, I duly get my honorarium. And so we
will make peace, my son. Now tell me what deviltry you have in hand."

Veitel pushed a thick parchment toward him, and said, "First of all, you
must look over that, write me out an abstract of it, and tell me what
you think of it. It has been offered me for sale. Now, however, I am
expecting some one, so you must go into the other room, sit down at the
table, and get through your task. When it is done we will talk about the
money."

Mr. Hippus took the heavy deed under his arm and steered toward the
door.

"To-day I am going to oblige you again, because you are a good boy,"
said he, affectionately, lifting his hand to pat Veitel on the cheek.

Veitel tolerated the caress, and was going to shut the door, when the
drunken old man turned round once more, and inquired with a cunning
leer, "So you expect some one, my child? Whom do you expect, little
Itzig? Is it a lad or a lady?"

"It is a money-matter," said V