"Well," replied the Persian, "if the carpets do not arrive,
the drafts will not arrive either, I suppose."

"And the profits, Father Abraham!" exclaimed the little Jew,
"do you reckon them as nothing?"

"You are right," said another; "goods from Central Asia run a great
risk in the market, and it will be the same with the tallow and shawls
from the East."

"Why, look out, little father," said a Russian traveler,
in a bantering tone; "you'll grease your shawls terribly if you
mix them up with your tallow."

"That amuses you," sharply answered the merchant, who had little
relish for that sort of joke.

"Well, if you tear your hair, or if you throw ashes on your head,"
replied the traveler, "will that change the course of events?
No; no more than the course of the Exchange."

"One can easily see that you are not a merchant," observed the little Jew.

"Faith, no, worthy son of Abraham! I sell neither hops,
nor eider-down, nor honey, nor wax, nor hemp-seed, nor salt meat,
nor caviare, nor wood, nor wool, nor ribbons, nor, hemp, nor flax,
nor morocco, nor furs."

"But do you buy them?" asked the Persian, interrupting
the traveler's list.