"One moment," Morris protested. "I ain't saying anything about that bumbum dish, Abe. All I meant that if you give _me_ such a high-price present when _I_ get married, that's all the more reason why we should give a high-price present to a customer what we will make money on. I ain't no customer, Abe." "I know you ain't," said Abe. "You're only a partner, and I don't make no money on you, neither." Morris shrugged his shoulders. "What's the use of wasting more time about it, Abe?" he said. "Go ahead and buy a present." "Me buy it?" Abe cried. "You know yourself, Mawruss, I ain't a success with presents. You draw the check and get your Minnie to buy it. She's an up-to-date woman, Mawruss, while my Rosie is a back number. She don't know nothing but to keep a good house, Mawruss. Sterling silver bumbum dishes she don't know, Mawruss. If I took her advice, you wouldn't got no bumbum dish. Nut-picks, Mawruss, from the five-and-ten-cent store, that's what you'd got. You might appreciate them, Mawruss; but a sterling silver----" At this juncture Morris took refuge in the outer office, where Miss Cohen, the bookkeeper, was taking off her wraps. "Miss Cohen," he said, "draw a check for twenty-five dollars to bearer, and enter it up as a gratification to Hyman Maimin." At dinner that evening Morris handed the check over to his wife. "Here Minnie," he said, "Abe wants you should buy a wedding present for a customer." "What kind of a wedding present?" Mrs. Perlmutter asked. "Something in solid sterling silver, like that bumbum dish what Abe gave us." "But, Mawruss," she protested, "you know we got that bonbon dish locked away in the sideboard, and we never take it out. Let's give 'em something useful." "Suit yourself," Morris replied. "Only don't bother me about it." "All right," Mrs. Perlmutter said. "Leave me the name and address, and I'll see that they send it direct from the store. I'll put one of your cards inside." "And another thing," Morris concluded. "See that you don't hold nothing out on us by way of commission." Mrs. Perlmutter smiled serenely. "I won't," she said, in dulcet tones. * * * * * It was the fourth day after Potash & Perlmutter's receipt of the wedding invitation. When Morris Perlmutter entered the private office he found Abe Potash in the absorbed perusal of the _Daily Cloak and Suit Record_. Abe looked up and saluted his partner with a malignant grin. "Well, Mawruss," he said, "I suppose you sent that present to Hyman Maimin?" "I sent it off long since already," Morris replied. "I hope it was a nice one, Mawruss," Abe went on "I hope it was a real nice one. I'm sorry now, Mawruss, we didn't spend fifty dollars. That would have made it an even seven hundred, instead of only six hundred and seventy-five, that Hyman Maimin owed us." "What d'ye mean?" cried Morris.