Interested in spite of himself by the insistent one’s eloquence, Blinn said:
“Well, let me have a look at it.”
“Hi ain’t got it wiv me—yet. But I can give you a look hat it.”
“How can you give me a look at it if you aren’t carrying it with you?” asked the puzzled American.
“Turn your ’ead slow, Guv’ner,” said the Cockney, dropping his voice. “See that fat bloke yonder wiv the gray coat on?” He pointed a cautious finger and sank his voice still lower. “Hit’s in ’is necktie.”
§ 335 Fun for Little Isadore
Mr. Pincus, the delicatessen dealer, was visiting Mr. Rabinowitz, the retailer in second-hand garments at the latter’s flat in Allen Street. To the host came his little son, Isadore, aged six.
“Popper,” he asked, “vould you gif me a quarter?”
“Shure,” said the parent. He hauled a coin from his pocket, dropped it with a generous gesture into the outstretched hand of his offspring and, as the child trotted away, made as if to resume his interrupted conversation with the caller. But Mr. Pincus, who had been observing the byplay with distended eyes was the first to speak:
“Rabinowitz, have you gone crazy or something? Your boy asks you for a whole quarter und right avay you give it to him. What an extravagance!”