"Since when did you got such friendly feelings for Italieners, Abe?" Morris inquired satirically. "Never mind!" Abe exclaimed. "You could knock an Italiener all you want, Mawruss, but you could take it from me, Mawruss, when an Italiener's got work to do he don't stand around talking a lot of nonsense instead of attending to business, like some people I know." With this scathing rejoinder Abe trudged off toward the cutting room and Morris proceeded to the office. He had hardly seated himself comfortably at his desk, however, when Abe burst into the room. "That's the way it goes, Mawruss," he cried. "Half the time we sit and _schmooes_ in the showroom and we don't know what goes on in our cutting room at all." "What's the matter now?" Morris asked. "Harkavy has quit us again," Abe replied. "Quit us!" Morris exclaimed. "What for?" "Nothing. All I says to the feller was why them piece goods is on the floor, and he says he is sick and tired and I should get another designer." Morris bit the end off a new cigar and glared ferociously at Abe. "So," he said bitterly, "we lose another designer through you, Abe. What do you think, a designer would stand for abuse the same like a partner, Abe?" "What d'ye mean--abuse, Mawruss?" Abe protested. "I ain't said no abuse to the feller at all; and even if I would, Mawruss, I guess I could talk like how I want to in my own cutting room, Mawruss." Morris rose to his feet. "_Schon gut_, Abe," he said. "Don't ask me I should step right into Harkavy's shoes and work like a dawg till you are finding a new designer, Abe. Them days is past, Abe." "You shouldn't worry yourself, Mawruss," Abe retorted. "The way business is so rotten nowadays, y'understand, we would quick get another designer." "Would you?" Morris cried. "Well, I guess I got something to say about that, Abe. If you think we are going to work to hire a designer which he is getting fired by every John, Dick and Harry, you got another think coming. This time, Abe, I would hire the designer, and don't you forget it." "Did I say I wanted to do it, Mawruss?" Abe asked. "Go ahead and hire him, Mawruss, only one thing I got to ask you as a favour: don't say the feller was my choice, Mawruss; because I wipe my hands from the whole matter." For the remainder of the day Morris and Abe maintained only such speaking relations as were necessary to the conduct of their business, and when Morris went home that evening he wore so gloomy an air that Harry Baskof, who rode up on the elevator with him, was moved to comment. "What's the matter, Mawruss?" he said. "You look like your best customer would be asking an extension on you." "We don't sell such people at all, Harry," Morris said bitterly. "Collections is all right, Harry, but when a feller's got a partner which he is got such a quick temper, understand me, that he fires out the help faster as I could hire 'em--I got a right to look worried. Our designer leaves us to-day."