“You're the stingiest Peter they is, William Hill,” he cried; “won't let nobody tech your old mumps. My cousin in Memphis's got the measles; you just wait till I get 'em.”
Billy eyed him critically.
“If you was ol'—” he was beginning.
Jimmy thought he saw signs of his yielding.
“And I'll give you my china egg, too,” he quickly proposed.
“Well, jest one tech,” agreed Billy; “an' I ain't a-goin' to be 'sponsible neither,” and he poked out a swollen jaw for Jimmy to touch.
Ikey Rosenstein at this moment was spied by the two little boys as he was Walking jauntily by the gate.
“You better keep 'way f'om here, Goose-Grease,” Jimmy yelled at him; “you better get on the other side the street. Billy here's got the mumps an' he lemme tech 'em so's I can get 'em, so's my papa and mama'll lemme do just perzactly like I want to; but you're a Jew and Jews ain't got no business to have the mumps, so you better get 'way. I paid Billy 'bout a million dollars' worth to lemme tech his mumps,” he said proudly. “Get 'way; you can't have em.”
Ikey had promptly stopped at the gate.
“What'll you take, Billy, to lemme get 'em?” he asked, his commercial spirit at once aroused.