I work a town at a time. I send
on an agent to the next to say that I am coming. I
`Here's the chance of a lifetime,' says he, `no need to
go back to Europe. Here's Europe come to you. Squints,
cataracts, iritis, refractions, what you like; here's the
great Signor Cullingworth, right up to date and ready for
anything!' In they come of course, droves of them, and
then I arrive and take the money. Here's my luggage!" he
pointed to two great hampers in the corner of the room.
"Those are glasses, my boy, concave and convex, hundreds
of them. I test an eye, fit him on the spot, and send
him away shouting. Then I load up a steamer and come
home, unless I elect to buy one of their little States
and run it."
Of course it sounded absurd as he put it; but I
could soon see that he had worked out his details, and
that there was a very practical side to his visions.
"I work Bahia," said he. "My agent prepares
Pernambuco. When Bahia is squeezed dry I move on to
Pernambuco, and the agent ships to Monte Video. So we
work our way round with a trail of spectacles behind us.
"It'll go like clock-work."
"You will need to speak Spanish," said I.
"Tut, it does not take any Spanish to stick a knife
into a man's eye. All I shall want to know is, `Money
down--no credit.' That's Spanish enough for me."
We had a long and interesting talk about all that had
happened to both of us, without, however, any allusion to
our past quarrel.
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