"Herman," said a Poydras street merchant clothier, addressing his clerk, "haf ye sold all of dose overgoats vat vas left over from last vinter?"
"No, sir; dere vas dree of dem left yet."
"Vell, ye must sell 'em right avay, as de vinter vill not last, you know, Herman. Pring me one uf de goats and I vill show you somedings about de pisness. I vill dell you how ve vill sell dem out, und you must learn de pisness, Herman; de vinter vas gone, you know, und ve hav had dose goats in de store more as seex years."
An eight-dollar overcoat was handed him by his clerk, and smoothing it out, he took a buckskin money purse from the showcase, and, stuffing it full of paper, dropped it into one of the pockets.
"How, Herman, my poy," he continued," vatch me sell dat coat. I haf sold over dirty-fife uf dem shust de same vay, und I vant to deech you de pisness. Ven de next gustomer comes in de shop I vill show de vay Rube Hoffenstein, my broder in Detroit, sells his cloding and udder dings."
A few minutes later a negro, in quest of a pair of suitable cheap shoes, entered the store. The proprietor advanced smiling, and inquired:
"Vat is it you vish?"
"Yer got any cheap shoes hyar?" asked the negro.
"Blenty of dem, my frent, blenty; at any price you vant."
The negro stated that he wanted a pair of brogans, and soon his pedal extremities were encased in them, and a bargain struck. As he was about to leave, the proprietor called him back.