I have always liked to hang around old Doc Edwards’s radio store in the evenings; not, particularly, because of any great interest in radio, for I have a five tube set of my own with which I can pick up everything from Kahoolawe to Nansen Sound and I could just as well stay at home and try for the Eiffel Tower; but it’s the way old Doc Edwards sells ’em that gets me. You see, the “Doctor” comes from Edwards’s days as a veterinary surgeon; but old man Edwards was never at heart a veterinary surgeon, he was in reality a horse trader. When horses got to the point where people began to consider saving the last remaining specimens for zoological gardens and historical societies, Doc Edwards turn…
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