of prices.
One day George Eggleston stood behind a box of fine fresh eggs talking with Bob Parker from whom he rented his stand when a customer came up. "How much are eggs?" "Six dollars." "What, a box ? " " No, a dozen." " Give me a dozen." Some- thing in the little trade struck Parker, who delighted in waggery, as a little ludicrous ; probably it was the indifference with which the customer bought eggs, paying as cheerfully six dollars a dozen as six dollars a box. And the plot of a little joke instantly arose in his mind. "George," said he, when the customer had gone, " you will never make anything in this business if you don't keep better posted in prices." " How so ?" demanded Eggleston. " Why, here you are selling eggs at six dollars a dozen, when the regu- lar price everywhere is eighteen dollars," responded Parker, " But I know where I can get all I want at three dollars," said Eggleston. " That's it," replied Parker. " You haven't the business sense that tells a man how to make avail of his opportunities." Parker then turned to speak to a friend ; but one ear wag open to Eggleston's doings as a dapper little man of family stepped briskly up and began negotiations "Hello, George, those are nice eggs; how do ye sell 'em." "Well," replied Eggleston, somewhat slowly and demurely, "eggs are a little up this morn- ing; those are eighteen dollars a dozen." "All right," said the little man, " I'll take two dozen." And he laid down the thirty-six dollars far less grudgingly than the average Boston man would have given tliirty-six cents for an equal quantity of the same commodity.
Potatoes were scarce and high at San Francisco during the winter of 1848-9, and as there had been scurvy in the mines they were specially desired. The Hawaiian Islands crop had been bought and eaten, and the ground had been hoed over a second time for what had been left the first ; for prior to this last operation there was not a potato for s
