An entertaining account of the relations between two partners in a cloak and suit manufacturing business.
d himself at a table in the rear of Wasserbauer's Café and Restaurant.
"Yes, sir, right away!" Louis, the waiter, cried, as he deposited a plate of dill pickles on the adjoining table, at which sat a stout middle-aged person with a napkin tucked in his neck.
"Koenigsberger Klops is good to-day, Mr. Potash," Louis announced.
"Pushing the stickers, Louis, ain't it?" the man at the next table said. "You couldn't get me to eat no chopped meat which customers left on their plates last week already. I never believe in buying seconds, Louis. Give me a piece of roast beef, well done, and a baked potato."
"Right away, Mr. Potash," Louis said, as he passed on to Perlmutter's table. "Now, sir, what could I do for you?"
"Me, I am waiting here for somebody," Morris replied. "Bring me a glass of water and we will give our order later."
"Right away!" said Louis, and hustled off to fill Abe Potash's order, whereat Abe selected a dill pickle to beguile the tedium of wa
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