'May it be an atonement for us all!' interrupted Peleg the pawnbroker.
'We must beg him not to destroy religion,' repeated the _Parnass_.
'I thought Mr. Gabriel had done that,' said the _Gabbai_.
'He is only a minister. He has no worldly tact.'
'Then, why don't _you_ go?' said Solomon Barzinsky.
'I have too much worldly tact. The President's visit might seem like an appeal to authority. It would set up his bristles. Besides, there wouldn't be me left to appeal to. The congregation must keep some trump up its sleeve. No, a mere plain member must go, a simple brother in Israel, to talk to him, heart to heart. You, Barzinsky, are the very man.'
'No, no, I'm not such a simple brother as all that. I'm in the same line, and he might take it for trade jealousy.'
'No, no, I'm not worthy to be the _Sheliach Tzibbur_!' (envoy of the congregation).
The _Parnass_ reassured him as to his merits. 'The congregation could not have a worthier envoy.'
'You, with your fine grown-up daughters!' cried Barzinsky.
'And these gentlemen must await you here,' said the President, tapping his snuffbox incongruously at the 'here,' 'in order to continue the sitting if you fail.'
'I can't wait more than a quarter of an hour,' grumbled various voices in various keys.
Peleg departed nervously, upborne by the congregational esteem. He returned without even his own. Instead he carried a bulky barometer.
'You must buy this for the synagogue, gentlemen,' he said. 'It will do to hang in the lobby.'
The _Parnass_ was the only one left in command of his breath.
'Well, it isn't any good to _me_,' retorted Peleg angrily.
'Then why did you buy it?' cried the _Gabbai_.
'It was the cheapest article I could get off with.'
'But you didn't go to buy,' said the _Parnass_.
'I know that--but you come into the shop--naturally he takes you for a customer--he looks so dignified; he strokes his beard--you can't look a fool, you must----'
'Be one,' snapped the _Parnass_. 'And then you come to us to share the expenses!'
'It'll do to tell you there's a storm when the chimney-pots are blowing down,' suggested the _Parnass_ crushingly.
'Put it in your window--you'll make a profit out of it,' said Mendel.
'Not while Simeon Samuels is selling them cheaper, as with his Sabbath profits he can well afford to do!'
