“I’ll have them all at a price.”
“Yes, I understand what that means—at your price, about a quarter of their value.”
The Jew regarded the speaker with a half angry glance.
“I give the utmost I can afford at all times—to my friends especially. Indeed, Mishter Peace, I often lose by my purchases; bishness ish pad—there are no buyers, money is tight. You don’t know how hard it is to get rid of goods, some especially. Now, there’s that presentation cup—vat can I do with it? See the risk I run in——”
“Get out!” cried Peace, testily. “Put it in the melting pot—risk be hanged. You can’t gammon me, you old sinner.”
“Oh, Lord! to hear him talk, it’s as good as a play,” said the Jew, once more rubbing his hands together. Then, suddenly changing his tone, he said—
“Tell ye vat I’ll do—give you fifty pounds for the lot.”
“Very kind of you, I’m sure. Fifty pounds for goods that are worth a hundred and fifty in weight of the silver alone.”
“Ah! but you forget the solder—you never thought of the solder. Besides I must have some little profit. I can’t live on air.”
Peace knew perfectly well, when he paid a visit to the establishment, that there would be a long time lost in haggling before he could get a moderately fair offer from Isaac. He had come prepared for this.