cussion he was convinced of the wisdom of Elkan's plan.

"All right, Elkan," he said at last. "Be down early on Saturday."

"Eight o'clock sure," Elkan replied as he shook Polatkin's hand; "and
by that time I hope you'll congratulate me on my engagement."

"I hope so," Polatkin said.

"Me too," Kapfer added after Polatkin departed; "and I also hope, Elkan,
this would be a warning to you that the next time you get engaged you
should find out the girl's name in advance."

* * * * *

"Yes, siree, sir," said Charles Fischko emphatically, albeit a trifle
thickly. "I guess you made a big hit there, Mr. Kapfer, and I don't
think I am acting previously when I drink to the health of Mrs. Kapfer."
He touched glasses with Max Kapfer, who sat opposite to him at a
secluded table in the Harlem Winter Garden, flanked by two bottles of
what had been a choice brand of California champagne. "Nee Miss Maslik,"
he added as he put down his glass; "and I think you are getting a young
lady which is not only good-looking but she is got also a heart like
gold. Look at the way she treats the servant girl they got there!
Honestly, when I was round there this morning them two girls was talking
like sisters already!"

"That's all right," Kapfer rejoined; "she's got a right to treat that
girl like a sister. She's a nice little girl--that servant girl."

"Don't I know it!" Fischko protested as he poured himself out another
glass of wine. "It was me that got her the job there two years ago
already; and before I would recommend to a family like B. Maslik's a
servant girl, understand me, I would make sure she comes from decent,
respectable people. Also the girl is a wonderful cook, Mr. Kapfer,
simple, plain, everyday dish like _gefuellte Hechte_, Mr. Kapfer; she
makes it like it would be roast goose already--so fine she cooks it. She
learned it from her mother, Mr. Kapfer, also a wonderful cook. Why,
would you believe it, Mr. Kapfer, that girl's own mother and me comes
pretty near being engaged to be married oncet?"

"You don't say!" Kapfer commented.

"That was from some years ago in the old country already," Fischko
continued; "and I guess I ought to be lucky I didn't do so, on account
she marries a feller by the name Silbermacher, _olav hasholem_, which he
is got the misfortune to get killed in Kishinef. Poor Mrs. Silbermacher,
she didn't live long, and the daughter, Yetta, comes to America an
orphan five years ago.