‘Young women,’ said Mr. Hollywell. ‘I found it out quite by accident. I got a lot of complaints from one particular town that our cigarettes had no photos with them. I discovered after a while that a girl in one of the principal shops had hit on a dodge for getting out the photos without apparently injuring the packets. The funny thing was that she never touched the ironclads or the “Types of the soldiers of all nations,” which you might have thought would interest her, but she collared every single actress, and had duplicates of most of them. And she wasn’t an exception. Most girls goad their young men to buy these cigarettes and make collections of the photos. Queer, isn’t it? I can’t imagine why they do it.’ ‘You said just now,’ said Hyacinth, ‘that latterly you hadn’t done quite so well. Did you run out of actresses and battleships?’ ‘No; but one of the Irish firms took to offering prizes and enclosing coupons. You collected twenty coupons, and you got a silver-backed looking-glass--girls again, you see--or two thousand coupons, and you got a new bicycle. It’s an old dodge, of course, but somehow it always seems to pay. However, all this doesn’t matter to you. All I wanted was to show you that there is no use relying on patriotism. The thing to go in for in any business is attractive novelties, cheap lines, and, in the country shops, long credit.’ It was not very long before Hyacinth began to realize the soundness of Mr. Hollywell’s contempt for patriotism. In the town of Clogher he found the walls placarded with the advertisements of an ultra-patriotic draper. ‘Féach Annseo,’ he read, ‘The Irish House. Support Home Manufactures.’ Another placard was even more vehement in its appeal. ‘Why curse England,’ it asked, ‘and support her manufacturers?’ Try O’Reilly, the one-price man.’ The sentiments were so admirable that Hyacinth followed the advice and tried O’Reilly.