“You bet it is,” says she.
“So,” says he, “I kind of reasoned out that we’d let results tell. Now,” he says, “the kind of argimints that counts is sellin’ argimints. And you got to sell somethin’ hard to sell, and everybody’s got to sell the same thing.”
“Mark Tidd,” says she, “that’s a splendid idee.”
“I was wonderin’ what you could t-tackle,” says he. “It ought to be somethin’ havin’ to do with b-brains.”
“Sure thing,” says she.
“Books, maybe,” says he. “Or maybe s-somethin’ that would be harder ’n books.”
“My husband’s sister’s second daughter,” says she, “sells magazine subscriptions. She says it’s the hardest thing there is—except newspaper subscriptions. She tackled that, but she says it was too much for her.”
“Um!” says Mark. “I bet it wouldn’t be too hard for you.”
“A-hum!” says Mrs. Strubber. “I calc’late I could do it on a pinch.”
“Then,” says Mark, “let’s settle on that-sellin’ n-n-newspaper subscriptions. But what p-paper can you git to let you? It’ll be p-perty hard, won’t it?”