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A Rose Of The Ghetto
by
“B–b–b–ut,” sputtered the bewildered parent, “I know Leibel myself. I see him every day. I don’t want a Shadchan to find me a man I know–a mere hand in my own workshop!”
“Your talk has neither face nor figure,” answered Sugarman, sternly. “It is just the people one sees every day that one knows least. I warrant that if I had not put it into your head you would never have dreamt of Leibel as a son-in-law. Come now, confess.”
Eliphaz grunted vaguely, and the Shadchan went on triumphantly: “I thought as much. And yet where could you find a better man to keep your daughter?”
“He ought to be content with her alone,” grumbled her father.
Sugarman saw the signs of weakening, and dashed in, full strength: “It’s a question whether he will have her at all. I have not been to him about her yet. I awaited your approval of the idea.” Leibel admired the verbal accuracy of these statements, which he had just caught.
“But I didn’t know he would be having money,” murmured Eliphaz.
“Of course you didn’t know. That’s what the Shadchan is for–to point out the things that are under your nose.”
“But where will he be getting this money from?”
“From you,” said Sugarman, frankly.
“From me?”
“From whom else? Are you not his employer? It has been put by for his marriage day.”
“He has saved it?”
“He has not spent it,” said Sugarman, impatiently.
“But do you mean to say he has saved fifty pounds?”
“If he could manage to save fifty pounds out of your wages he would be indeed a treasure,” said Sugarman. “Perhaps it might be thirty.”
“But you said fifty.”
“Well, you came down to thirty,” retorted the Shadchan. “You cannot expect him to have more than your daughter brings.”
“I never said thirty,” Eliphaz reminded him. “Twenty-seven ten was my last bid.”
“Very well; that will do as a basis of negotiations,” said Sugarman, resignedly. “I will call upon him this evening. If I were to go over and speak to him now, he would perceive you were anxious, and raise his terms, and that will never do. Of course you will not mind allowing me a pound more for finding you so economical a son-in-law?”
“Not a penny more.”
“You need not fear,” said Sugarman, resentfully. “It is not likely I shall be able to persuade him to take so economical a father-in-law. So you will be none the worse for promising.”
“Be it so,” said Eliphaz, with a gesture of weariness, and he started his machine again.
“Twenty-seven pounds ten, remember,” said Sugarman, above the whir.
Eliphaz nodded his head, whirring his wheel-work louder.
“And paid before the wedding, mind.”
The machine took no notice.
“Before the wedding, mind,” repeated Sugarman. “Before we go under the canopy.”
“Go now, go now!” grunted Eliphaz, with a gesture of impatience. “It shall all be well.” And the white-haired head bowed immovably over its work.
In the evening Rose extracted from her father the motive of Sugarman’s visit, and confessed that the idea was to her liking.
“But dost thou think he will have me, little father?” she asked, with cajoling eyes.
“Any one would have my Rose.”
“Ah, but Leibel is different. So many years he has sat at my side and said nothing.”
“He had his work to think of. He is a good, saving youth.”
“At this very moment Sugarman is trying to persuade him–not so? I suppose he will want much money.”
“Be easy, my child.” And he passed his discoloured hand over her hair.
Sugarman turned up the next day, and reported that Leibel was unobtainable under thirty pounds, and Eliphaz, weary of the contest, called over Leibel, till that moment carefully absorbed in his scientific chalk marks, and mentioned the thing to him for the first time. “I am not a man to bargain,” Eliphaz said, and so he gave the young man his tawny hand, and a bottle of rum sprang from somewhere, and work was suspended for five minutes, and the “hands” all drank amid surprised excitement. Sugarman’s visits had prepared them to congratulate Rose; but Leibel was a shock.