stand, neither," Mrs. Zwiebel replied.
"I ask Milton always how he gets along, and he tells me he is doing
fine."

"The boy tells me the same thing," Zwiebel continued, "and yet that
young feller, Ferdy Rothman, comes up to see me about getting a check
for Milton's wages, and he says to me the boy acts like a regular
lowlife."

"Why don't you speak to Milton?" Mrs. Zwiebel broke in.

"I did speak to him, mommer," Zwiebel declared, "and the boy looks at
me so surprised that I couldn't say nothing. Also, I speaks to this
here Ferdy Rothman, mommer, and he says that the boy acts something
terrible. He says that Rothman's got a bookkeeper, y'understand, a
decent, respectable young woman, and that Milton makes that girl's life
miserable the way he's all the time talking to her and making jokes.
Such a loafer what that boy is I couldn't understand at all."

He sighed heavily and went downtown to his place of business. On the
subway he opened wide the _Tobacco Trade Journal_, thrust his legs
forward into the aisle, and grew oblivious to his surroundings in
perusing the latest quotations of leaf tobacco.

"Why don't you hire it a special car?" a bass voice cried as its owner
stumbled over Zwiebel's feet.

"Excuse me," Zwiebel exclaimed, looking up. "Excuse me, Mr. Feigenbaum.
I didn't see you coming."

"Oh, hello there, Zwiebel!" Feigenbaum cried, extending two fingers and
sinking into the adjacent seat. "How's the rope business?"

"I ain't in the rope business, Mr. Feigenbaum," Zwiebel said coldly.

"Ain't you?" Feigenbaum replied. "I thought you was. I see your boy
every oncet in a while down at Rothman's, and he hands me out a piece
of rope which he gets from your place, Zwiebel. I take it from him to
please him."

"You shouldn't do him no favours, Feigenbaum," Zwiebel cried. "That
rope, as you call it, stands me in seventy dollars a thousand, and the
way that boy helps himself, y'understand, you might think it was waste
paper."

"Sure, I know," Feigenbaum answered. "I thought so, too, when I smoked
it. But, anyhow, Zwiebel, I must say that boy of yours is all right."

"What!" Zwiebel cried.

"Yes, sir," Feigenbaum went on, "that boy has improved something
wonderful. And certainly they think a great deal of him down there.
Rothman himself told me that boy will make his mark some day, and you
know what I think, Zwiebel? I think the whole thing is due to that
young lady they got down there, that Miss Levy. Tha