"Not on your life. You don't know why it is I have the old man so solid. I've got the hooks on him good and hard, you know."
"Well, how's that?"
"Oh, it came about this way," said he. "When I was down in Kansas City a few years ago, when I had finished selling Ruby,—as I always called him, you know—(he came in from out in the country to meet me this time) I asked him how my little sweetheart was getting on. She, you know, was his little daughter Leah. She was just as sweet as she could be,—great big brown eyes and rich russet cheeks, black curls, bright as a new dollar and sharp as a needle.
"'O, she iss a big goil now,' said my friend Ruby. 'Say,' said he, 'who vass dot yong feller in the room here a few minutes ago?' He referred to a young friend of mine who had chanced to drop in. 'De reeson I ask iss I am huntin' for a goot, reliable, hart-workin' Yehuda (Jewish) boy for her. I vant her to get married pretty soon now. She iss a nice goil, too.'
"'How about a goy (Gentile), Ruby?' said I.
"'No, that vont vork. Kein yiddishes Madchen fur einen Goy und keine Shickse fur einen yiddishen Jungen.' (No Hebrew girl for a Gentile boy; no Gentile girl for a Hebrew boy.)
"'All right, Ruby,' said I. He was such a good, jolly old fellow, and while he was a man in years he was a boy in actions,—and Ruby was the only name by which I ever called him. Nothing else would fit. 'All right, Ruby,' said I, 'I believe I just know the boy for Leah.'
"'Veil, you know vat I will do. I don'd care eef he iss a poor boy; dot is all ride. I haf money and eef I ged the ride boy for my goil, I vill set him op in peezness. Dot's somet'ing for you to vork for— annodder cost'mer,' said he—the instinct would crop out.
"Well, sir, I've got to make this story short," said Johnny, pulling out his watch. "I found the boy. He was a good, clean-cut young fellow, too, and you know the rest."
"You bet your life I do," said Sam. "Two solid customers that buy every dollar from you."