CHAPTER II

In less than ten days the new firm of Potash & Perlmutter were doing business in Abe Potash’s old quarters on White Street with the addition of the loft on the second floor.  Abe had occupied the grade floor of an old-fashioned building, and agreeable to Morris’ suggestion the manufacturing and cutting departments were transferred to the second floor, leaving Abe’s old quarters for show-room, office and shipping purposes.  It was further arranged that Abe’s share of the copartnership work should be the selling end and that Morris should take charge of the manufacturing.  Both partners supervised the accounting and credit department with the competent assistance of Miss R. Cohen, who had served the firm of Vesell & Potash in the same capacity.

For more than a year Morris acted as designer, and with one or two unfortunate exceptions, the styles he originated had been entirely satisfactory to Potash & Perlmutter’s growing trade.

The one or two unfortunate exceptions, however, had been a source of some loss to the firm.  First, there were the tourists’ coats which cost Potash & Perlmutter one thousand dollars; then came the purple directoires; total, two thousand dollars charged off to profit and loss on the firm’s books.

“No, Mawruss,” Abe said, when his partner spoke of a new model, which he termed the Long Branch Coatee, “I don’t like that name.  Anyhow, Mawruss, I got it in my mind we should hire a designer.  While I figure it that you don’t cost us nothing extra, Mawruss, a couple of stickers like them tourists and that directoire model puts us in the hole two thousand dollars.  On the other hand, Mawruss, if we get a good designer, Mawruss, all we pay him is two thousand a year and we’re through.”

“I know, Abe,” Morris replied, “but designers can turn out stickers, too.”

“Sure, they can, Mawruss,” Abe went on, “but they got a job to look out for, Mawruss, while you are one of the bosses here, whether you turn out stickers or not.  No, Mawruss, I got enough of stickers already.  I’m going to look out for a good, live designer, a smart young feller like Louis Grossman, what works for Sammet Brothers.  I bet you they done an increased business of twenty per cent. with that young feller’s designs.  I met Ike Gotthelf, buyer for Horowitz & Finkelbein, and he tells me he gave Sammet Brothers a two-thousand-dollar order a couple of weeks ago, including a hundred and twenty-two garments of that new-style they got out, which they call the Arverne Sacque, one of Louis Grossman’s new models.”

“Is that so?” said Morris.  “Well, you know what I would do if I was you, Abe?  I’d see Louis Grossman and offer him ten dollars a week more than Sammet Brothers pays him, and the first thing you know he’d be working for us and not for Sammet Brothers.”

“You got a great head, Mawruss,” Abe rejoined ironically.  “You got the same idee all of a sudden what I think about a week ago already.  I seen Louis Grossman yesterday, and offered him fifteen, not ten.”