“Lowestoft?” suggested the stranger, adjusting the mouthpiece of his pipe.

“Yes, dot Lowestoft.  If you come in yesterday and say, ’Have you any olt cups and saucers and olt soup tureens?’ I say:  ’Yes—­help yourselluf.  Take your pick for tventy-five cents each for de cups and saucers.’  You see, I pay nudding and I get nudding.  Dot give me an idea!  How vould you like to go round de store vid me and pick out de good vuns?  Dot von’t take you long—­vait a minute—­I give you dat money.”

“I should not be of the slightest value, and if you are loaning me the twenty-five dollars on any other basis than the worth of the dressing-case, I would rather not take it.”

“Oh, I have finished vid de loan.  Vot I say I say.”  He thrust his hand into a side pocket, from which he drew a flat wallet.  “And dere is de money.  I give you a receipt for de case.”

“No, I do not want any receipt.  I am quite willing you should keep it until I can either pay this back or you can loan me some more on it.”

“Vell, den, I don’t vant no receipt for de money.  Here comes a customer.  Don’t you go yet.  I know her.  She comes most every day.  She only vants to look around.  Such a lot of peoples only vants to look around.  Dey don’t know vat dey vant and you never have it.  No, it ain’t no customer—­it’s Bobby.”

The door was burst open, and a boy in a blue jumper, his cap thrust so far back on his head that it was a wonder it didn’t fall off, cried out: 

“Say!  One of the sideboards is stuck on the iron railing and we can’t get it furrards or back.  Them two weiss-beers ye got down-stairs can’t lift nothin’ but full mugs.  Send somebody to help.”  And the door went to with a bang.

Kling was about to call for assistance when Hans —­one of the maligned—­shuffled in from the rear of the store, carrying a wooden image very much in want of repair.

“Oh, dots awful good you brought dot!  Set it here on dis chair—­now you go avay and help vid dem sideboards.  See here vunce, mister.  You see, dey vas makin’ de altar over new, and one of de mens come to me last week and he says:  ’Mister Kling, come vid me and buy vot ve don’t vant.  De school is too small, and some of de children got no place to sit down in.  Ve got to sell sometings, and maybe now ve don’t vant dem images.’  And so I buy dem two and some olt vestments dat my Masie make so good as new, vid patches.  Now, vot can I do vid dis—?”

Again the door was burst open, shutting off all possibility for conversation.  Bobby’s voice had now reached the volume of a fog-horn.  “What do ye take us fur out here—­lobsters?  Dad and I can’t wait all day.  He’s got to go down to Lafayette Place for a trunk.”

Kling looked at his companion, as if to see what effect the talk had had upon him, and broke out into a suffocating chuckle.  “Dot’s vot it is all day long—­ don’t you yonder I go crazy?  First it is sideboards and den it is vooden saints.  Here you, Bobby!  Come inside vunce!  I vant to ask you sometings.”