Our ceramic friend was faced with kissing his investment goodbye—and probably with making a job in the pottery for a good restaurant man—with throwing good money after bad, or with getting into the cafeteria business.
He figured this business ought to pay. Somewhere, he knew, his brother-in-law had gone wrong. Just where, he believed he could find out.
So he took over the business. Brother-in-law stayed on, leaving the new owner free to observe.
And he did nothing but observe for a solid week.
Each night he made a list of the points in managing which had come up in the course of the day's work.
In a week's time he had an accurate list of all the actual jobs of managing, as all bills except for gas and light and rent were paid and a profit and loss statement was taken each week.
Then he arranged the list in order of natural importance.
It began with marketing and checking bills with deliveries, and ended with counting the money and depositing it in the bank.
"Hold on," he thought, "this isn't such a long way from running a pottery. What am I in this business for?"
"Because," he answered, "I want to leave as much of that money in the bank as possible, and mark it down as profit."