"Ask yourself if that is fair. The wages I pay my men are sufficient to enable them to maintain a home decently, to bring up their families decently, and perhaps, if they are wise and thrifty--only, mind you, if they are wise and thrifty--to make a small provision for old age, when they are no longer able to work. Their hours are long enough to give them just a little leisure, which they can employ partly in reasonable amusement and partly in intellectual improvement. I have gone thoroughly into these matters, and know what I am talking about. Men who do their work honestly--and I employ and will keep no others--have a right to fair wages and a little leisure, and I decline to grind my men down after the fashion of the extreme political economist. The contract I have just completed was tendered for in an open market. My tender was the lowest and was accepted. I make a considerable sum of money out of it, and each of my men contributes a mickle toward it. They believe I have treated them fairly, and I am certain they have treated me fairly. Upon those lines I intend to make my way. Your sweater is a political economist. I am not a sweater. It is the course I pursued in France, and by it I laid the foundation of what may prove to be a great fortune. I am tendering now for other contracts, and I shall obtain my share, and shall pursue precisely the same course. Mr. Moss, you and I are Jews. At a great disadvantage because of the nature of your business, which I myself once intended to follow, you have made yourself respected in the town in which you reside. I, on my part, wish to make myself respected here. Surely there is no race in the world to which it is greater honor, and should be a greater pride, to belong than the Jewish race; and by my conduct through life I trust I shall do nothing to tarnish that honor or lower that pride. It may or may not be for that reason that I decline to follow the political economist to the depths into which he has fallen." Mr. Moss' eyes gleamed; Aaron had touched a sympathetic chord; the men shook hands and smiled cordially at each other. "When you were in Gosport," said Mr. Moss, "I ought to have asked you to go into partnership with me." "If you had made me the offer," responded Aaron, "I'm afraid I should have accepted it." "Lucky for you that I missed my opportunity. It is a fortunate thing that you went to France when you did." "Very fortunate. It opened up a new career for me; it restored my dear wife to health; my son was born there." "About the poor child I brought to you in Gosport, Cohen; we have never spoken of it." "That is true." "Did the lawyers ever write to you again?" "Never." "And I have heard nothing. The iron box I gave you--you have it still, I suppose?" "I have it still." "I have often wondered what it contains, and whether the mother will ever call for it."