Host: This is my copy of the Johnson, Smith, Racine, Wisconsin Catalog. Every boy in America at one time had one. You sent away for jokes, surprises, funny faces, whoopee cushions, and illusions. I sent away for my first Johnson-Smith catalog when I was 10, because I heard you could buy things, strange things, that you dunked in water or planted in your window box, that grew, and grew, and grew.
Roger Willis: What's intuition?
Huge Fortnum: Uh, the stuff you know that you don't know you know?
Roger Willis: That's it. Over a period of time, things gather. Surprises. Your hands get dirty but you don't remember how they got that way. Dust falls on you every day but you don't feel it. But when you get enough dust collected up, there it is. You see it. You name it. And now I feel the weather changing every minute with the skin prickling on the backs of my hands.
Huge Fortnum: Well...
Roger Willis: Now, don't laugh. I'm full up on dust and strange weather.
Huge Fortnum: Well, what do we do about it?
Roger Willis: I don't know. Watch everything. Maybe it's in the way the wind blows those weeds. Or the way the sun burns on the telephone wires. Or the crickets screeching in the grass.
Huge Fortnum: That's not much to go on.
Roger Willis: Then we're sunk and lost.