“I do not intend he shall,” said the man, reaching down and picking the dog up bodily by the scruff of his neck.  “What is the matter, old fellow?” he continued, twisting the dog’s head so that he could look into his eyes.  “Wanted to make a meal of me?—­ too bad.  Your little daughter, of course, Mr. Kling?  A very good breed of dog, my dear young lady—­just a little nervous, and that is in his favor.  Now, sir, make your excuses to your mistress,” and he placed the terrier in her arms.

The child lifted her face toward his in delight.  Most of the men whom Fudge attacked either shrunk out of his way or replied to his attentions with a kick.

“You love dogs, don’t you, sir?” she asked.  Fudge was now routing his sharp nose under her chin as if in apology for his antics.

“I am afraid I do, and I am glad you do—­they are sometimes the best friends one has.”

“Yes,” broke in Kling, “and so am I glad.  Dot dog is more as a brudder to my Masie, ain’t he, Beesvings?  And now you run avay, dear, and play, and take Fudge vid you and say ‘Good morning’ to Mrs. Cleary, and maybe dot fool dog of Bobby’s be home.”  He stooped and kissed her, caressing her cheek with his thumb and forefinger, as he pushed her toward the door, and again turned to the stranger.  “And now, vot about dot chair you got in your hand?”

“Oh, the chair!  I had forgotten that you had asked.  Your little daughter drove everything else out of my head.  Let me have a closer look.”  He swung it round to get a nearer view.

“The legs—­that is, three of them—­are Chippendale.  The back is a nondescript of something—­I cannot tell.  Perhaps from some colonial remnant.”

“Vot’s it vorth?”

“Nothing, except to sit upon.”

Otto laughed—­a gurgling, chuckling laugh, his pudgy nose wrinkling like a rabbit’s.

“Ain’t dot funny!” and he rubbed his fat hands.  “Dot’s true.  Yes, I make it myselluf—­and five oders, vich vas sold out of a lot of olt furniture.  I got two German men down-stairs puttin’ in new legs and new backs; dey can do anyting.  Nobody but you find dot out.  I guess you know ’bout dot china—­I must look into dot.  Maybe some mens on Fifth Avenue buy dot china—­dey never come in here because dey tink dey find only olt furniture.  And now about dot dressing-case.  Don’t you sell it.  I find somebody pay more as I can give, and you pay me for my trouble.  I lend you tventy—­yes, I lend tventy-five dollars on it.  Vill dot be enough?”

“That will be enough for a week, after I pay what I owe.”

“Vell, den, ven dot is gone ve tink out someting else, don’t ve?  I look it all over last night.  It is all right—­ no breaks anyvere.  And dot tventy-five only last you a veek!  Vy is dot?  Vot board do you pay?” His interest in the visitor was increasing.

“Eight dollars with my meals, whenever my landlady is on time.”

“Eight dollars!  Dot voman’s robbin’ you.  Eight dollars!  She is a skin!”