carrying on with a rotund personage who was none other than Sam Kupferberg, the well-known Madison Street advocate. 

 "For a greenhorn like him," said Sam, "he certainly done well. He ain't been in the place a year, y'understand, and to-night he marries a relation of his boss and he gets a job as foreman and three hundred dollars in the bargain." 

 The cashier clucked with her tongue. "S'imagine!" she commented. 

 "Mind you," Sam continued, "only this afternoon yet, Seiden tells him he should marry the girl, as this other feller backed out; and he stands out for three hundred dollars, y'understand, and a job as foreman. What could Seiden do? He had to give in, and they're being married right now in New Riga Hall." 

 "S'imagine!" the cashier said again, adjusting her pompadour. 

 "And, furthermore," Sam continued, "the girl is a relation of Seiden's wife, y'understand." 

 "My Gawd, ketch him!" the cashier exclaimed; and Sam Kupferberg grabbed Philip Sternsilver just as he was disappearing into the street. It was some minutes before Philip could be brought to realize that he owed ten cents for his supper, but when he was at length released he made up for lost time. His progress down Allen Street was marked by two overturned pushcarts and a trail of tumbled children; and, despite this havoc, when he arrived at New Riga Hall the ceremony was finished by half an hour or more. 

 Indeed, the guests were gathered about the supper table and soup had just been served, when the proprietor of the hall tiptoed to the bridal table and whispered in Isaac Seiden's ear: 

 "A feller by the name of Sternsilver wants to speak a few words something to you," he said. 

 Seiden turned pale, and leaving half a plateful of soup uninhaled he rose from the table and followed the proprietor to the latter's private office. There sat Philip Sternsilver gasping for breath. 

 "Murderer!" he shouted as Seiden entered. "You are shedding my blood." 

 "Koosh, Sternsilver!" Seiden hissed. "Ain't you got no shame for the people at all?" 

 "Where is my Bessie—my life?" Sternsilver wailed. "Without you are making any inquiries at all you are marrying her to a loafer. Me, I am nothing! What is it to you I am pretty near killed in the 

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