"It is true," he said, "that if I yielded to your importunities and gave you my daughter, you would thereby have approved yourself a king of _Schnorrers_, of a rank suitable to my daughter's, but an analysis of your argument will show that you are begging the question." "Vat more proof do you vant of my begging powers?" demanded Yankelé, spreading out his palms and shrugging his shoulders. [Illustration: "'VAT MORE PROOF DO YOU VANT?'"] "Much greater proof," replied Manasseh. "I ought to have some instance of your powers. The only time I have seen you try to _schnorr_ you failed." "Me! ven?" exclaimed Yankelé indignantly. "Why, this very night. When you asked young Weinstein for his dead father's clothes!" "But he had already given them away!" protested the Pole. "What of that? If anyone had given away _my_ clothes, I should have demanded compensation. You must really be above rebuffs of that kind, Yankelé, if you are to be my son-in-law. No, no, I remember the dictum of the Sages: 'To give your daughter to an uncultured man is like throwing her bound to a lion.'" "But you have also seen me _schnorr_ mid success," remonstrated the suitor. "Never!" protested Manasseh vehemently. "Often!" "From whom?" "From you!" said Yankelé boldly. "From _me_!" sneered Manasseh, accentuating the pronoun with infinite contempt. "What does that prove? I am a generous man. The test is to _schnorr_ from a miser." "I _vill schnorr_ from a miser!" announced Yankelé desperately. "You will!" "Yes. Choose your miser." "No, I leave it to you," said da Costa politely. "Vell, Sam Lazarus, de butcher shop!" "No, not Sam Lazarus, he once gave a _Schnorrer_ I know elevenpence." "Elevenpence?" incredulously murmured Yankelé. "Yes, it was the only way he could pass a shilling. It wasn't bad, only cracked, but he could get no one to take it except a _Schnorrer_. He made the man give him a penny change though. 'Tis true the man afterwards laid out the shilling at Lazarus's shop. Still a really great miser would have added that cracked shilling to his hoard rather than the perfect penny." "No," argued Yankelé, "dere vould be no difference, since he does not spend." "True," said da Costa reflectively, "but by that same token a miser is not the most difficult person to tackle." "How do you make dat out?" "Is it not obvious? Already we see Lazarus giving away elevenpence. A miser who spends nothing on himself may, in exceptional cases, be induced to give away something. It is the man who indulges himself in every luxury and gives away nothing who is the hardest to _schnorr_ from. He has a _use_ for his money--himself! If you diminish his store you hurt him in the tenderest part--you rob him of creature comforts. To _schnorr_ from such a one I should regard as a higher and nobler thing than to _schnorr_ from a mere miser." "Vell, name your man."