has got to take it—­can’t get around it you see.  Butter don’t stand any show—­there ain’t any chance for competition.  Butter’s had its day—­and from this out, butter goes to the wall.  There’s more money in oleomargarine than—­why, you can’t imagine the business we do.  I’ve stopped in every town from Cincinnati to Natchez; and I’ve sent home big orders from every one of them.’

And so-forth and so-on, for ten minutes longer, in the same fervid strain.  Then New Orleans piped up and said—­

Yes, it’s a first-rate imitation, that’s a certainty; but it ain’t the only one around that’s first-rate.  For instance, they make olive-oil out of cotton-seed oil, nowadays, so that you can’t tell them apart.’

‘Yes, that’s so,’ responded Cincinnati, ’and it was a tip-top business for a while.  They sent it over and brought it back from France and Italy, with the United States custom-house mark on it to indorse it for genuine, and there was no end of cash in it; but France and Italy broke up the game—­of course they naturally would.  Cracked on such a rattling impost that cotton-seed olive-oil couldn’t stand the raise; had to hang up and quit.’

‘Oh, it did, did it?  You wait here a minute.’

Goes to his state-room, brings back a couple of long bottles, and takes out the corks—­says: 

’There now, smell them, taste them, examine the bottles, inspect the labels.  One of ’m’s from Europe, the other’s never been out of this country.  One’s European olive-oil, the other’s American cotton-seed olive-oil.  Tell ’m apart?  ’Course you can’t.  Nobody can.  People that want to, can go to the expense and trouble of shipping their oils to Europe and back—­it’s their privilege; but our firm knows a trick worth six of that.  We turn out the whole thing—­clean from the word go—­in our factory in New Orleans:  labels, bottles, oil, everything.  Well, no, not labels:  been buying them abroad—­get them dirt-cheap there.  You see, there’s just one little wee speck, essence, or whatever it is, in a gallon of cotton-seed oil, that give it a smell, or a flavor, or something—­get that out, and you’re all right—­perfectly easy then to turn the oil into any kind of oil you want to, and there ain’t anybody that can detect the true from the false.  Well, we know how to get that one little particle out—­and we’re the only firm that does.  And we turn out an olive-oil that is just simply perfect—­undetectable!  We are doing a ripping trade, too—­as I could easily show you by my order-book for this trip.  Maybe you’ll butter everybody’s bread pretty soon, but we’ll cotton-seed his salad for him from the Gulf to Canada, and that’s a dead-certain thing.’

Cincinnati glowed and flashed with admiration.  The two scoundrels exchanged business-cards, and rose.  As they left the table, Cincinnati said—­

’But you have to have custom-house marks, don’t you?  How do you manage that?’