GENTS:  Your shipment of this date arrived and we must say we
are surprised at the goods which you sent us.  They are in no
respect up to sample which we keep pending a settlement of
any differences which we might have in respects to this matter. 
Yours truly, L. FEINHOLZ. 
Dic LF to RC

“What does that sucker mean, Mawruss?” Abe asked.  “We ain’t sent him no sample of them capes, Mawruss.  We made ’em up according to his instructions, Mawruss.  Ain’t it?”

Morris nodded solemnly and again Abe read the letter.

This time he dashed the note to the floor and grew purple with rage.

“Why,” he choked, “that sucker must mean it the winder sample.”

Again Morris nodded solemnly.

“But a ten-year-old child could tell that them garments ain’t like that winder sample, Mawruss,” Abe went on.

“Sure I know,” Morris replied sadly, “and a district court judge could tell it, too.  Also, a jury by the city court could tell it, Abe; and also, I rung up Henry D. Feldman and asked him if he could take a case for us against Louis Feinholz, and Feldman says that Feinholz is such an old client that he couldn’t do it.  And that’s the way it goes.”

“But them capes was never intended to be the same like that sample, Mawruss,” Abe cried.

“That’s what I told Louis Feinholz when I rung him up after I spoke to Feldman, and Feinholz says he got the goods and he got the sample, and that’s all he knows about it.  Then I asked him if he didn’t say it distinctly we should make up a first-class, expensive winder sample and ship it along with the order, and he says he don’t remember it and that I should show him a writing.”

“Ain’t you got it a writing?” Abe asked.

“I ain’t got no writing about the winder sample, Abe,” Morris replied.  “I only got it a writing about the order.”

“But ain’t you got no witnesses, Mawruss?” Abe asked.

“Witnesses I got it plenty, Abe,” Morris answered.  “And so has Feinholz got it witnesses.  What’s the use witnesses when all Feinholz has got to do is to get Henry D. Feldman to make theayter acting over that sample?  For you know as well as I do, Abe, anyone would see that them garments is doch, anyway, a cheap imitation of that winder sample, Abe.”

At this juncture Jake, the shipping clerk, entered.

“Mr. Potash,” he said, “here comes Margulies’ Harlem Express with them packages what we shipped it the Longchamps Store yesterday.  Should I take ’em in?”

Abe jumped to his feet.

“Did Margulies bring ’em up?” he asked.

“He had ’em just now on the elevator,” Jake replied.

“Wait, I go with you,” Abe said.  Together they walked rapidly toward the freight elevator, which opened into the cutting-room, but before they reached the door a shrill outcry rose from the floor below.

The East Side slogan of woe, “Oi gewalt,” blended with women’s shrieks, and at length came the cry:  “Fie-urr!  Fie-urr!”