"P'raps you mean Rabbi Remorse Red-herring," he said feebly, for his voice failed him.
"Ah, yes! Rabbi Remorse Red-herring," said Manasseh. "From all I hear—for I have never seen the man—a king of guzzlers and topers, and the meanest of mankind. Now if you could dine with him you might indeed be called a king of Schnorrers."
Yankelé was pale and trembling. "But he is married!" he urged, with a happy thought.
"THE TREMBLING JEW."
"Dine with him to-morrow," said Manasseh inexorably. "He fares extra royally on the Sabbath. Obtain admission to his table, and you shall be admitted into my family."
"But you do not know the man—it is impossible!" cried Yankelé.
"That is the excuse of the bad Schnorrer. You have heard my ultimatum. No dinner, no wife. No wife—no dowry!"
"Vat vould dis dowry be?" asked Yankelé, by way of diversion.
"Oh, unique—quite unique. First of all there would be all the money she gets from the Synagogue. Our Synagogue gives considerable dowries to portionless girls. There are large bequests for the purpose."