rettes and make collections of the photos. Queer, isn't it? I can't
imagine why they do it.'

'You said just now,' said Hyacinth, 'that latterly you hadn't done quite
so well. Did you run out of actresses and battleships?'

'No; but one of the Irish firms took to offering prizes and enclosing
coupons. You collected twenty coupons, and you got a silver-backed
looking-glass--girls again, you see--or two thousand coupons, and you
got a new bicycle. It's an old dodge, of course, but somehow it always
seems to pay. However, all this doesn't matter to you. All I wanted was
to show you that there is no use relying on patriotism. The thing to go
in for in any business is attractive novelties, cheap lines, and, in the
country shops, long credit.'

It was not very long before Hyacinth began to realize the soundness of
Mr. Hollywell's contempt for patriotism. In the town of Clogher he
found the walls placarded with the advertisements of an ultra-patriotic
draper. 'Feach Annseo,' he read, 'The Irish House. Support Home
Manufactures.' Another placard was even more vehement in its appeal.
'Why curse England,' it asked, 'and support her manufactures?' Try
O'Reilly, the one-price man.' The sentiments were so admirable that
Hyacinth followed the advice and tried O'Reilly.

The shop was crowded when he entered, for it was market day in Clogher.
The Irish country-people, whose manners otherwise are the best in
the world, have one really objectionable habit. In the street or in a
crowded building they push their way to the spot they want to reach,
without the smallest regard for the feelings of anyone who happens to
be in the way. Sturdy country-women, carrying baskets which doubled the
passage room they required, hustled Hyacinth into a corner, and for a
time defeated his efforts to emerge. Getting his case of samples safely
between his legs, he amused himself watching the patriot shopkeeper and
his assistants conducting their business. It was perfectly obvious that
in one respect the announcements of the attractive placard departed
from the truth: O'Reilly was not a 'one-price man,' He charged for every
article what he thought his customers were likely to pay. The result was
that every sale involved prolonged bargaining and heated argument. In
most cases no harm was done. The country-women were keenly alive to the
value of their money, and evidently enjoyed the process of beating
down the price by halfpennies until the real value of t