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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Peter: a novel of which he is not the hero"

It is quite the same, only over one shop we hang
three gilt balls: on the other we nail a sign which reads:
'Financial Agents.' And it is the same Jew, remember, who stands
behind both counters. The first Jew is overhauled almost every day
by the police; the second Jew is regarded as our public-spirited
citizen. So you see, my young friend, that it is only a question
of the amount of money you have got whether you loan on rings or
railroads."
"And whether the Christian lifts his hat or his boot," laughed
Peter.
Cohen leaned his elbows on his plump knees and went on, the
slender glass still in his hand, from which now and then he took a
sip. Peter sat buried in his chair, his cigar between his fingers.
Jack held his peace; it was not for him to air his opinions in the
presence of the two older men, and then again the tailor had
suddenly become a savant.
"Of course, there are many things I wish were different," the
tailor continued in a more thoughtful tone. "Many of my people
forget their birthright and force themselves on the Christian,
trying to break down the fence which has always divided us, and
which is really our best protection.


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