"Herman," said a Poydras street merchant clothier, addressing his clerk, "haf ye sold all of dose overgoats vat vas left over from last vinter?"
"No, sir; dere vas dree of dem left yet."
"Vell, ye must sell 'em right avay, as de vinter vill not last, you know, Herman. Pring me one uf de goats and I vill show you somedings about de pisness. I vill dell you how ve vill sell dem out, und you must learn de pisness, Herman; de vinter vas gone, you know, und ve hav had dose goats in de store more as seex years."
An eight-dollar overcoat was handed him by his clerk, and smoothing it out, he took a buckskin money purse from the showcase, and, stuffing it full of paper, dropped it into one of the pockets.
"How, Herman, my poy," he continued," vatch me sell dat coat. I haf sold over dirty-fife uf dem shust de same vay, und I vant to deech you de pisness. Ven de next gustomer comes in de shop I vill show de vay Rube Hoffenstein, my broder in Detroit, sells his cloding and udder dings."
A few minutes later a negro, in quest of a pair of suitable cheap shoes, entered the store. The proprietor advanced smiling, and inquired:
"Vat is it you vish?"
"Yer got any cheap shoes hyar?" asked the negro.
"Blenty of dem, my frent, blenty; at any price you vant."
The negro stated that he wanted a pair of brogans, and soon his pedal extremities were encased in them, and a bargain struck. As he was about to leave, the proprietor called him back.
"I ain't gwine ter buy nuffin else. I'se got all I want," said the negro, sullenly.
"Dot may be so, my dear sir," replied the proprietor, "but I shust vants you to look at dis goat. It vas de pure Russian vool, und dis dime last year you doan got dot same goat for dwenty-five dollars. Mine gracious, clothing vos gone down to noding, and dere vas no money in de pisness any longer. You vant someding dot vill keep you from de vedder, und make you feel varm as summer dime. De gonsumption vas goin round, und de doctors dell me it vasthe vedder. More dan nine beoples died roun vere I lif last veek. Dink of dot. Mine frent, dot goat vas Russian vool, dick and hevy. Vy, Misder Jones, who owns de pank on Canal streed, took that goat home mit him yesterday, and vore it all day, but it vas a leetle dight agross de shoulders, und he brought it pack shust a vile ago. Dry it on, my dear sir. Ah! dot vas all right. Mister Jones vas a rich man, and he liked dot goat. How deep de pockets vas, but it vas a leetle dight agross de shoulders."
The negro buttoned up the coat, thrust his hands in the pockets, and felt the purse. A peaceful smile played over his face when his touch disclosed to his mind the contents of the pockets, but he choked down his joy and inquired:
"Who did you say wore this hyar coat?"
"Vy, Mister Jones vot owns de bank on Canal streed."
"What yer gwine to ax fur it?"
"Dwenty dollars."
"Dat's powerful high price fur dis coat, but I'll take it."
"Herman, here, wrap up dis goat fur the schentleman, and throw in a cravat; it will make him look nice mit de ladies."
"Nebber mind, I'll keep the coat on," replied the negro, and pulling out a roll of money, he paid for it and left the store.
While he was around the next corner moaning over the stuffed purse, Hoffenstein said to his clerk:
"Herman, fix up anudder von of dose goats de same vay, and doan forget to dell dem dot Mister Jones vot runs de pank on Canal streed vore it yesterday."