'Order, order, gentlemen,' said the Parnass. 'Don't you see from this insolent letter how right I was? The rascal threatens to drag us to the Christian Courts, that's clear. All that about Jerusalem is only dust thrown into our eyes.'
'Grave-dust,' murmured Straumann.
'Order! He is a dangerous customer.'
'Shopkeeper,' corrected Straumann.
The Parnass glared, but took snuff silently.
'I don't wonder he laughed at us,' said Straumann, encouraged. 'Bi-weekly by a member. Ha! ha! ha!'
'Mr. President!' Barzinsky screamed. 'Will you throw that laughing hyena out, or shall I?'
Straumann froze to a statue of dignity. 'Let any animalcule try it on,' said he.
'Shut up, you children, I'll chuck you both out,' said Ephraim Mendel in conciliatory tones. 'The point is—what's to be done now, Mr. President?'
'Nothing—till the end of the year. When he offers his new subscription we refuse to take it. That can't be illegal.'