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MATED BY A WAITER
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142 THE KING OF SCHNORRERS.

to his liking ; they were oak panelled, and crammed with the most expensive objects of art and luxury. The walls of the drawing-room were frescoed, and from the ceiling depended a brilliant lustre, with seven spouts for illumination.

Having sufficiently examined the furniture, Manasseh grew weary of waiting, and betook himself to Belasco's bed- chamber.

" You will excuse me, Mr. Belasco," he said, as he entered through the half open door, " but my business is urgent."

The young dandy, who was seated before a mirror, did not look up, but replied, " Have a care, sir, you well nigh startled my hairdresser."

"Far be it from me to willingly discompose an artist," replied Manasseh drily, " though from the elegance of the design, I Venture to think my interruption will not make a hair's-breadth of difference. But I come on a matter which the son of Benjamin Belasco will hardly deny is more press- ing than his toilette."

" Nay, nay, sir, what can be more momentous?"

"The Synagogue ! " said Manasseh austerely.

"Pah! What are you talking of, sir?" and he looked up cautiously for the first time at the picturesque figure. "What does the Synagogue want of me? I pay my finta and every bill the rascals send me. Monstrous fine sums, too, egad — "

" But you never go there ! "

" No, indeed, a man of fashion cannot be everywhere. Routs and rigotti play the deuce with one's time."

"What a pity!" mused Manasseh ironically. "One misses you there. 'Tis no edifying spectacle — a slovenly rabble with none to set the standard of taste."

The pale-faced beau's eyes lit up with a gleam of interest.

" Ah, the clods ! " he said. " You should yourself be a