This head (he then saw) surmounted a small, sharp-eyed man
who sat tilted back in a swivel chair, in a corner which seemed
the nerve centre of the establishment. The large pigeon-holed
desk in front of him was piled high with volumes of all sorts,
with tins of tobacco and newspaper clippings and letters.
An antiquated typewriter, looking something like a harpsichord,
was half-buried in sheets of manuscript. The little bald-headed man
was smoking a corn-cob pipe and reading a cook-book.

"I beg your pardon," said the caller, pleasantly; "is this
the proprietor?"

Mr. Roger Mifflin, the proprietor of "Parnassus at Home," looked up,
and the visitor saw that he had keen blue eyes, a short red beard,
and a convincing air of competent originality.

"It is," said Mr. Mifflin. "Anything I can do for you?"

"My name is Aubrey Gilbert," said the young man. "I am representing
the Grey-Matter Advertising Agency. I want to discuss with you
the advisability of your letting us handle your advertising account,
prepare snappy copy for you, and place it in large circulation mediums.
Now the war's over, you ought to prepare some constructive campaign
for bigger business."

The bookseller's face beamed. He put down his cook-book,
blew an expanding gust of smoke, and looked up brightly.

"My dear chap," he said, "I don't do any advertising."