“Ah! Can’t be buyer and seller too. That’s what the Jews say; ain’t it?”
“At least we say truly, if we say so,” answered the old man with a smile.
“Your people need speak the truth sometimes, for they lie enough,” remarked Fascination Fledgeby.
“Sir, there is,” returned the old man with quiet emphasis, “too much untruth among all denominations of men.”
Rather dashed, Fascination Fledgeby took another scratch at his intellectual head with his hat, to gain time for rallying.
“For instance,” he resumed, as though it were he who had spoken last, “who but you and I ever heard of a poor Jew?”
“The Jews,” said the old man, raising his eyes from the ground with his former smile. “They hear of poor Jews often, and are very good to them.”
“Bother that!” returned Fledgeby. “You know what I mean. You’d persuade me if you could, that you are a poor Jew. I wish you’d confess how much you really did make out of my late governor. I should have a better opinion of you.”
The old man only bent his head, and stretched out his hands as before.
“Don’t go on posturing like a Deaf and Dumb School,” said the ingenious Fledgeby, “but express yourself like a Christian—or as nearly as you can.”