_
After lunch, while they were waiting about in the hall looking at the
pictures, and not quite sure what to do, Mr. Imber of Philadelphia
approached them. "I wonder," he said, "if you would do me a favour. I have
scores of nephews and nieces, and also many friends, in America, to whom I
want to send picture postcards. Now," he continued, "listen here. Here's
seven shillings, one for each of you; and here's a five-shilling piece. Now
I am going to give you each a shilling to buy picture post cards with, and
I want you each to buy them separately--in different shops if you like
--and then bring them back to me, and I'll give the five-shilling piece to
the one who has what I think the best collection. Now off you go."
So they hurried off. Stratford-on-Avon, I may tell you, exists almost
entirely on the sale of picture postcards and Shakespeare relics, and there
was therefore no difficulty in finding seven shops, each with a first-class
assortment.
In this way an hour went very pleasantly, and then the results were laid
before the old gentleman. Of course, there were many duplicates, but each
collection had four or five cards that the others had not. After long
consideration, Mr. Imber handed the five shillings to Mary.
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