In another moment it reopened a bit

  Pinchas put his finger to his nose and smiled reassuringly.   "It shall be all besom," he said.   "And when wilt thou read it to me?"   "Will to-morrow this time suit thee?"   "As honey a bear."   "Good, then!" said Pinchas; "I shall not fail."   The door closed upon him. In another moment it reopened a bit and he thrust his grinning face through the aperture.   "Ten per cent. of the receipts!" he said with his cajoling digito-nasal gesture.   "Certainly," rejoined the actor-manager briskly. "After paying the expenses--ten per cent. of the receipts."   "Thou wilt not forget?"   "I shall not forget."   Pinchas strode forth into the street and lit a new cigar in his exultation. How lucky the play was not yet written! Now he would be able to make it all turn round the axis of the besom. "It shall be all besom!" His own phrase rang in his ears like voluptuous marriage bells. Yes, it should, indeed, be all besom. With that besom he would sweep all his enemies--all the foul conspirators--in one clean sweep, down, down to Sheol. He would sweep them along the floor with it--so--and grin; he would beat time to their yells of agony--so--and laugh; he would beat them over the heads--so--and roar; he would lean upon it in statuesque greatness--so--and thrill; he would sweep away their remains with it--so--and weep for joy of countermining and quelling the long persecution.