Aaron's face blanched and he trembled visibly.
"But, Mr. Potash—" he began.
"Never mind!" Abe bellowed; "take that fiddle and all that machshovos you got there and come in here."
Abe led the way to the front of the showroom, followed by the crestfallen Shellak, who deposited fiddle, bow, and case on a sample table.
"Say, lookyhere, Shellak," Abe said in kindly tones, "what the devil are you trying to sell a Schnorrer like that a good fiddle? Why don't you give me a show?"
The blood surged suddenly to Aaron's face.
"You!" he stammered. "Why, Mr. Potash, I never knew you was interested in violins."
"Sure; why not?" Abe replied. "Let me have a look at it."
First he squinted into the right "eff" hole and he grunted in approval as he spied the label, which read as follows:
| NICOLAUS AMATI CREMONENSIS Faciebat Anno 1670 |