DELMORE SCHWARTZ
525
class about this. The management
IS
trying to cheat an old
man."
"This poet is a radical," said the assistant manager, seeing
his opportunity to win a complete victory. "You heard what he
just said: middle class. He is a radical."
"c.I.O." called the balcony wit, with a rising inflection on
the 0, as one would say "I'll be seeing
you."
The audience
giggled, enchanted by this, and the cry was taken up immedi–
ately.
"c.I.O. c.I.O. c.I.O." came various voices throughout the
house.
Cornelius recognized that nothing more could be done with
the audience. He went over to the old musician, still seated upon
the floor and drying his glasses again, for he was still weeping.
"Look, old man," said Cornelius, "There's nothing to be
done about this. You'd better come with me."
"No," said Weingarten, categorically.
Cornelius meditated with himself for a moment and then
said: "Listen, 1 will give you half of the jackpot. Come on before
you're arrested."
"Call a cop," cried the same voice that had previously made
this suggestion.
"No," said Weingarten, "I don't want your money. 1 want
mine. Give me my money," he said towards the assistant
manager.
Cornelius considered matters with himself again and came
to a decision. Easy come, easy go, he s'aid to himself, and then he
told the old musician that he could have the whole jackpot. The
manager protested immediately but Cornelius took the bills
from his pocket and began to count them out and give them to
the musician who accepted them with a guilty look and trem–
bling hands.
The audience 'saw what was happening and applauded
vigorously, not because it was genuinely moved, but because it
felt that it ought to applaud. Such applause is heard at public
gatherings when an abstraction too vacuous is mentioned or
tribute is paid to a man long dead. The assistant manager, trying
to
move in on Cornelius's credit, came over to shake hands with
