“Oh boys, such a business!” exclaimed Ikey. He was a Jew, and not ashamed of it, often making himself the butt of the many expressions used against his race. On this account he was more than tolerated—he had many friends out of his own faith. “Such a business!” he went on, using his hands, without which he used to say he could not talk.
“Well, what is it now?” asked Dunk with good-humored patience. “Neckties or silk shirts?” for Ikey was working his way through college partly by acting as agent for various tradesmen, getting a commission on his sales. Dunk was one of his best customers.
“Such a business!” went on Ikey, mocking himself. “It is ornaments, gentlemans! Beautiful ornaments from the Flowery Kingdom. Such vawses—such vawses! Is it not, my friend Hashmi Yatta?” and he appealed to the Japanese.
“Of a surely they are beautiful,” murmured the little yellow lad. “There is some very good cloisonne, some kisku, and one or two pieces in awaji-yaki. Also there is some satsuma, if you would like it.”
“And the prices!” interrupted Ikey. “Such bargains! Come, you shall see. It is a crime to take them!”
“What’s it all about?” asked Dunk. “Have you fellows been looting a crockery store?”
“No, it is Hashmi here,” said the Jew. “I don’t know whether his imperial ancestors willed them to him, or sent them over as a gift, but they are wonderful. A whole packing case full, and he’ll sell them dirt cheap.”
“What do we want of ’em?” asked Andy.
“Want of ’em, you beggar? Why they’ll be swell ornaments for your room!”
That was an appeal no freshman could resist.