m the rear of the store. Once more Aaron Shellak was
entertaining the cutting-room staff with a pianissimo rendition of
Godard's _Berceuse_; but even as Abe tiptoed across the showroom to
crush the performance with an explosive "_Koosh!_" the melody ceased.

"That's a genu-ine Amati," Aaron said, "and you could see for
yourself--inside here is the label."

Abe stopped short. The word "Amati" brought back to him the scene of
Felix Geigermann's musicale, and his heart thumped unpleasantly as he
listened to Aaron's exhibition of salesmanship.

"Moreover," Aaron continued, "here is the scroll which it is ever so
much finer as them other fiddles you could buy for fifty _oder_ sixty
dollars. Look at the varnish on the back, Nathan--shines like rubies,
ain't it?"

"What would I do with a fiddle, Aaron?" Nathan Schenkman, the shipping
clerk, asked.

"You I ain't saying at all," Aaron said; "but you got a little boy
Nathan."

"He ain't a year old yet," Nathan interrupted.

"Sure, I know," Shellak went on; "but now is the time, Nathan. You
couldn't begin too early. Look at Kubelik and Kreisler and all them
fellers. When they was eating from a bottle already the old man give 'em
a fiddle to play with, and to-day where are they? In one concert tower
alone, Nathan, them fellers makes from fifty to a hundred thousand
dollars."

He paused so that Nathan might better apprehend the alluring prospect.

"And I'll let you have it for a hundred and fifty dollars, Nathan," he
concluded. "Ten dollars down and two dollars a week till paid. No
interest nor nothing."

At this juncture Abe burst into the cutting room.

"_Nu_, Shellak!" he roared. "What are you trying to do? Skin a poor
feller like Nathan, which he got a wife and a child to support?"

"What d'ye mean, skin him?" Aaron retorted. "I ain't no crook, Mr.
Potash."

"That's all right, Shellak," Abe went on. "I heard every word you are
saying. Come inside; I want to talk to you."

Aaron's face blanched and he trembled visibly.

"But, Mr. Potash----" he began.

"Never mind!" Abe bellowed; "take that fiddle and all that _machshovos_
you got there and come in here."

Abe led the way to the front of the showroom, followed by the
crestfallen Shellak, who deposited fiddle, bow, and case on a sample
table.

"Say, lookyhere, Shellak," Abe said in kindly tones, "what the devil are
you trying to sell a _Schnorrer_ like that a good fiddle? Why don't you
give me a show?"