Suppose you were a young greenhorn, Durfy--which I'm afraid you aren't--and saw an advertisement in the _Rocket_ saying you could make two hundred and fifty pounds a year easy without interfering with your business, eh?
what would you do ?" "If I was a greenhorn," said Durfy, "I'd answer the advertisement and enclose a stamped envelope for a reply." "To be sure you would! And the reply would be, we'd like to have a look at you, and if you looked as green as we took you for, we'd ask for a deposit, and then allow you to sell wines and cigars and that sort of fancy goods to your friends.

You'd sell a dozen of port at sixty shillings, do you see?
half the cash down and half on delivery.

We'd send your friend a dozen at twelve and six, and if he didn't shell out the other thirty bob on delivery, we'd still have the thirty bob he paid down to cover our loss.

Do you twig ?" Durfy laughed.

"Do you dream all these things," he said, "or how do you ever think of them ?" "Genius, my boy; genius," said Mr Medlock.