hand. Society matrons in the eastern States can’t get Cleopatra’s Smile for less than ten cents a can, but I’m able to offer it out here for a mere three red cents.”
She thought about it. “Three cents? You will excuse me one moment, señor?” And she went into the adjoining room, with the little boy following her like a shadow.
“A can of tooth powder isn’t a pie safe,” I said to Oscar. “And you had to give away a doll and a toothbrush, plus a seven-cent mark-down on the tooth powder.”
“That’s not the point,” he murmured. “I’m building a clientele, don’t you see? The point of the game is getting them to
want
this stuff. After want comes need, and once they need what you have, all you have to do is supply the demand.”
“Will you remember to ask about the mulberry trees?”
“The what? Yes, yes, of course. And we’ll just see about that pie safe, shall we?” He stuck his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets, looking mighty pleased with himself.
Señora Berreyesa returned and held out her hand. “Three American cents, señor. I will try a can of that powder.”
“You won’t regret it, señora,” he assured her, pocketing the money and presenting her with the can. “And may I add that this is also a superlative remover of the stubborn and unsightly stains caused by the consumption of mulberries? Of which I notice you shall soon have abundance, by the way.”
“Those?” She rolled her eyes. “If we ever see a berry from them, I’ll fall over dead. My husband let Señor Workman plant them, after some crazy talk about silkworms. Chinese shawls growing on trees, he told him.”
“Well, isn’t that just like a man? But I wonder, señora, if you would allow my friend here to collect a couple of leaves from the young trees? She studies such things.”
“You can take the whole damned orchard, as far as I’m concerned,” she said to me. “Please, señora, help yourself. This way.” She scooped up the little boy in her arms and led us out the back door to the garden beyond.
As I walked among the little trees, clipping off a likely-lookingshoot here and there, Oscar cleared his throat. “I couldn’t help noticing that our arrival interrupted preparations for a meal,” he said.
“That’s true, señor, but I can spare the time to speak with you,” Señora Berreyesa lied graciously.
“Ah, but, busy woman as you are, you must frequently suffer interruptions in the course of your culinary duties, and food intended for human consumption may then be unintentionally exposed to the assault of common household pests. I’d like to suggest a means of ensuring that your foodstuffs stay safe and unmolested. Now I happen to have in my wagon a miracle of modern design: the Criterion Patented Brassbound Pie Safe! I believe it may be the answer to all your problems, and if you’ll just step out to the cart and let me demonstrate its assorted features, I’m sure you’ll—”
But Señora Berreyesa had stopped in her tracks, her face registering outrage as the import of his words sank in. “Are you suggesting that I have rats in my kitchen?” she said.
“Uh—why, no, certainly, but—”
She seized his sleeve. “You think I keep a dirty house? You think I leave food lying around to draw rats? You come in here and see.” She dragged him back into the house, and I ran after them hastily, tucking trailing mulberry cuttings into my collecting basket. She gestured dramatically at the row of stone jars, each with its heavy stone lid.
“
There
. That keeps the food safe and cool. There is never any food left lying unprotected in my house, except when annoying little white men come to sell me things.”
Oscar gulped and scuttled for the door. “Point taken, señora, point taken. I’ll just be on my way, I guess. Buenos días.”
“Buenos días, señora, and please excuse the discourtesy,” I said as I followed him. She inclined her head stiffly in acknowledgment. The little boy
She thought about it. “Three cents? You will excuse me one moment, señor?” And she went into the adjoining room, with the little boy following her like a shadow.
“A can of tooth powder isn’t a pie safe,” I said to Oscar. “And you had to give away a doll and a toothbrush, plus a seven-cent mark-down on the tooth powder.”
“That’s not the point,” he murmured. “I’m building a clientele, don’t you see? The point of the game is getting them to
want
this stuff. After want comes need, and once they need what you have, all you have to do is supply the demand.”
“Will you remember to ask about the mulberry trees?”
“The what? Yes, yes, of course. And we’ll just see about that pie safe, shall we?” He stuck his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets, looking mighty pleased with himself.
Señora Berreyesa returned and held out her hand. “Three American cents, señor. I will try a can of that powder.”
“You won’t regret it, señora,” he assured her, pocketing the money and presenting her with the can. “And may I add that this is also a superlative remover of the stubborn and unsightly stains caused by the consumption of mulberries? Of which I notice you shall soon have abundance, by the way.”
“Those?” She rolled her eyes. “If we ever see a berry from them, I’ll fall over dead. My husband let Señor Workman plant them, after some crazy talk about silkworms. Chinese shawls growing on trees, he told him.”
“Well, isn’t that just like a man? But I wonder, señora, if you would allow my friend here to collect a couple of leaves from the young trees? She studies such things.”
“You can take the whole damned orchard, as far as I’m concerned,” she said to me. “Please, señora, help yourself. This way.” She scooped up the little boy in her arms and led us out the back door to the garden beyond.
As I walked among the little trees, clipping off a likely-lookingshoot here and there, Oscar cleared his throat. “I couldn’t help noticing that our arrival interrupted preparations for a meal,” he said.
“That’s true, señor, but I can spare the time to speak with you,” Señora Berreyesa lied graciously.
“Ah, but, busy woman as you are, you must frequently suffer interruptions in the course of your culinary duties, and food intended for human consumption may then be unintentionally exposed to the assault of common household pests. I’d like to suggest a means of ensuring that your foodstuffs stay safe and unmolested. Now I happen to have in my wagon a miracle of modern design: the Criterion Patented Brassbound Pie Safe! I believe it may be the answer to all your problems, and if you’ll just step out to the cart and let me demonstrate its assorted features, I’m sure you’ll—”
But Señora Berreyesa had stopped in her tracks, her face registering outrage as the import of his words sank in. “Are you suggesting that I have rats in my kitchen?” she said.
“Uh—why, no, certainly, but—”
She seized his sleeve. “You think I keep a dirty house? You think I leave food lying around to draw rats? You come in here and see.” She dragged him back into the house, and I ran after them hastily, tucking trailing mulberry cuttings into my collecting basket. She gestured dramatically at the row of stone jars, each with its heavy stone lid.
“
There
. That keeps the food safe and cool. There is never any food left lying unprotected in my house, except when annoying little white men come to sell me things.”
Oscar gulped and scuttled for the door. “Point taken, señora, point taken. I’ll just be on my way, I guess. Buenos días.”
“Buenos días, señora, and please excuse the discourtesy,” I said as I followed him. She inclined her head stiffly in acknowledgment. The little boy
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