He found the corkscrew in the dresser drawer--it always gets there, though it is supposed to be in the sideboard drawer in the dining-room--and when he got back the others had read most of the printed papers.
'I don't think it's much good, and I don't think it's quite nice to sell wine,' Dora said 'and besides, it's not easy to suddenly begin to sell things when you aren't used to it.' 'I don't know,' said Alice; 'I believe I could.' They all looked rather down in the mouth, though, and Oswald asked how you were to make your two pounds a week.
'Why, you've got to get people to taste that stuff in the bottle.

It's sherry--Castilian Amoroso its name is--and then you get them to buy it, and then you write to the people and tell them the other people want the wine, and then for every dozen you sell you get two shillings from the wine people, so if you sell twenty dozen a week you get your two pounds.
I don't think we shall sell as much as that,' said Dicky.
'We might not the first week,' Alice said, 'but when people found out how nice it was, they would want more and more.

And if we only got ten shillings a week it would be something to begin with, wouldn't it ?' Oswald said he should jolly well think it would, and then Dicky took the cork out with the corkscrew.

The cork broke a good deal, and some of the bits went into the bottle.

Dora got the medicine glass that has the teaspoons and tablespoons marked on it, and we agreed to have a teaspoonful each, to see what it was like.
'No one must have more than that,' Dora said, 'however nice it is.' Dora behaved rather as if it were her bottle.