shouldn't ought to go out in weather like this," Max said. "To a
feller which got it a cough like you, Aaron, it is positively
dangerous, such a damp mees-erable weather which we are having it."

Aaron nodded and smiled at this subtle form of flattery. He possessed
the worst asthmatic cough in the cloak and suit trade, and while he
suffered acutely at times, he could not conceal a sense of pride in its
ownership. It sounded like a combination of a patent automobile alarm
and the shaking of dried peas in an inflated bladder, and when it
seized Aaron in public conveyances, old ladies nearly fainted, and
doctors, clergymen, and undertakers evinced a professional interest,
for it seemed impossible that any human being could survive some of
Aaron's paroxysms. Not only did he withstand them, however, but he
appeared positively to thrive upon them, and albeit he was close on to
fifty, he might well have passed for thirty-five.

"I stood a whole lot of Decembers already," he said, "and I guess I
wouldn't die just yet a while."

As if to demonstrate his endurance, he emitted a loud whoop, and
started off on a fit of wheezing that bulged every vein in his forehead
and left him shaken and exhausted in the chair that Max had vacated.

"Yes, boys," he gasped, "the only thing which seems to ease it is
smoking. Now, you wouldn't believe that, would you?"

Max evidenced his faith by producing a large black cigar and handing it
to Pinsky.

"Why don't you try another doctor, Aaron?" Sam Zaretsky asked. Pinsky
raised his right hand with the palm outward and flipped his fingers.

"I've went to every professor in this country and the old country," he
declared, "and they couldn't do a thing for me, y'understand. They say
as I grow older, so I would get better, and certainly they are right.
This is nothing what I got it now. You ought to of heard me when I was
a young feller. Positively, Max, I got kicked out of four
boarding-houses on account the people complained so. One feller wanted
to make me arrested already, such hearts people got it."

Max Fatkin nodded sympathetically, and thus encouraged Aaron continued
his reminiscences.

"Yes, boys," he said, "in them days I worked by old man Baum on
Catherine Street. Six dollars a week and P.M.'s I made it, but even
back in 1880 P.M.'s was nix. The one-price system was coming in along
about that time, and if oncet in a while you could soak an Italiener
six twenty-five for a five dollar