“Is he?” Morris Perlmutter replied.  “Well, he don’t look it when I seen him in the Harlem Winter Garden last night, Abe.  Him and Mrs. Kotzen was eating a family porterhouse between ’em with tchampanyer wine yet.”

“Well, Mawruss,” Abe said, “he needs it tchampanyer wine, Mawruss.  Last month I seen it he gets stung two thousand by Cohen & Schondorf, and to-day he’s chief mourner by the Ready Pay Store, Barnet Fischman proprietor.  Barney stuck him for fifteen hundred, Mawruss, so I guess he needs it tchampanyer wine to cheer him up.”

“Well, maybe he needs it diamonds to cheer him up, also, Abe,” Morris added.  “That feller got diamonds on him, Abe, like ’lectric lights on the front of a moving-picture show.”

“Diamonds never harmed nobody’s credit, Mawruss,” Abe rejoined.  “You can get your money out of diamonds most any time, Mawruss.  I see by the papers diamonds increase in price thirty per cent. in six months already.  Yes, Mawruss, diamonds goes up every day.”

“And so does the feller what wears ’em, Abe,” Morris went on.  “In fact, the way that Hymie Kotzen does business I shouldn’t be surprised if he goes up any day, too.  Andrew Carnegie couldn’t stand it the failures what that feller gets into, Abe.”

“That’s just hard luck, Mawruss,” Abe replied; “and if he wears it diamonds, Mawruss, he paid for ’em himself, Mawruss, and he’s got a right to wear ’em.  So far what I hear it, Mawruss, he never stuck nobody for a cent.”

“Oh, Hymie ain’t no crook, Abe,” Morris admitted, “but I ain’t got no use for a feller wearing diamonds.  Diamonds looks good on women, Abe, and maybe also on a hotel-clerk or a feller what runs a restaurant, Abe, but a business man ain’t got no right wearing diamonds.”

“Of course, Mawruss, people’s got their likes and dislikes,” Abe said; “but all the same I seen it many a decent, respectable feller with a good business, Abe, what wants a little accommodation at his bank.  But he gets turned down just because he goes around looking like a slob; while a feller what can’t pay his own laundry bill, Mawruss, has no trouble getting a thousand dollars because the second vice-president is buffaloed already by a stovepipe hat, a Prince Albert coat and a four-carat stone with a flaw in it.”

“Well, a four-carat stone wouldn’t affect me none, Abe,” Morris said, “and believe me, Abe, Hymie Kotzen’s diamonds don’t worry me none, neither.  All I’m troubling about now is that I got an appetite like a horse, so I guess I’ll go to lunch.”

Abe jumped to his feet.  “Give me a chance oncet in a while, Mawruss,” he protested.  “Every day comes half-past twelve you got to go to your lunch.  Ain’t I got no stomach, neither, Mawruss?”

“Oh, go ahead if you want to,” Morris grumbled, “only don’t stay all day, Abe.  Remember there’s other people wants to eat, too, Abe.”

“I guess the shoe pinches on the other foot now, Mawruss,” Abe retorted as he put on his hat.  “When I get through eating I’ll be back.”