In the early days most
of us had English money only, and the villagers used to rook us
frightfully changing it. I remember sending my batman, MacGusgogh, to
a place for eggs, and he came back with the change for my Bradbury
in nickel. I had a good look at it, and on each coin was the mystic
inscription, 'DIHAP,' which is pronounced 'dinar.'
"'MacGusgogh,' I said, 'you pretend to be a Scotsman and yet you've
been diddled. This is Serbian money, and not worth a bean.'
"'Oh the deceitfu' deevils,' said he, 'there's neither truth nor
honesty in the leein' buddies, Sir. But here's your Bradbury, an', at
onny rate, we hae the eggs, Sir, for I paid for them wi' a label off
yin o' they Japaneesy beer bottles. It seemed an awfu' waste to spend
guid siller on folk that dinna ken when they see it.'"
I began to see the possibilities of the money market.
"I was round about there till the Armistice," Jones went on, "then I
drifted by stages to South Russia. All the Eastern countries live by
exchange. Practically the only trade they have is playing tennis with
each others' currency, and the headquarters of the industry in 1918
was South Russia.
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