at
least two savings-bank accounts and kept in his pocket a bundle of bills
as large as a roll of piece goods.

"That's all right," Flaxberg cried with a forced grin. "I ain't
surprised you are pretty near blinded when you are coming into the
daylight out of the cutting room. It's dark in there like a tomb."

"I bet yer," Elkan said fervently.

"You should get into the air more often," Flaxberg went on. "A feller
could get all sorts of things the matter with him staying in a hole like
that."

"_Gott sei dank_ I got, anyhow, my health," Elkan commented.

"Sure, I know," Flaxberg said as they reached the street; "but you must
got to take care of it too. A feller which he don't get no exercise
should ought to eat well, Lubliner. For instance, I bet yer you are
taking every day your lunch in a bakery--ain't it?"

Elkan nodded.

"Well, there you are!" Flaxberg cried triumphantly. "A feller works all
the time in a dark hole like that cutting room, and comes lunchtime he
_fresses_ a bunch of _Kuchen_ and a cup of coffee, _verstehst du_--and
is it any wonder you are looking sick?"

"I feel all right," Elkan said.

"I know you feel all right," Flaxberg continued, "but you look something
terrible, Lubliner. Just for to-day, Lubliner, take my advice and try
Wasserbauer's regular dinner."

Elkan laughed aloud.

"Wasserbauer's!" he exclaimed. "Why, what do you think I am, Mr.
Flaxberg? If I would be a salesman like you, Mr. Flaxberg, I would say,
'Yes; eat once in a while at Wasserbauer's'; _aber_ for an assistant
cutter, Mr. Flaxberg, Wasserbauer's is just so high like the Waldorfer."

"That's all right," Flaxberg retorted airily. "No one asks you you
should pay for it. Come and have a decent meal with me."

For a brief interval Elkan hesitated, but at length he surrendered, and
five minutes later he found himself seated opposite Harry Flaxberg in
the rear of Wasserbauer's cafe.

"Yes, Mr. Flaxberg," he said as he commenced the fourth of a series of
dill pickles, "compared with a salesman, a cutter is a dawg's
life--ain't it?"

"Well," Flaxberg commented, "he is and he isn't. There's no reason why a
cutter shouldn't enjoy life too, Lubliner. A cutter could make money on
the side just so good as a salesman. I am acquainted already with a
pants cutter by the name Schmul Kleidermann which, one afternoon last
week, he pulls down two hundred and fifty dollars yet."

"Pulls down two hundred and fifty dollars!" Elkan