Part 2 (1/2)
”When I entered the store, I went straight to the proprietor and told him without introducing myself (a merchant does not care what your name is) what my line of business was. It was Sat.u.r.day afternoon. I would rather go out making business on Sat.u.r.day than any other day because the merchant is doing business and is in a good humor, and you can get right at the point. Of course, you must catch him when he is not, for the moment, busy.
”'Can't do anything for you, sir, I fear,' said he. 'Hereafter we are going to buy that line direct from the factories.'
”I saw that the proprietor himself was prejudiced, and that the one thing to do was to come straight back at him. 'Where do you suppose my hats come from?' said I. 'My factory is the leading one in New Jersey.' I was from Chicago although my goods, in truth, were made in Orange Valley.
”'Will you be here Monday?' he asked. This meant that he wanted to look at my samples. The iron was hot; then was the time to strike.
”'Sorry, but I cannot,' I answered. 'But I'll tell you what I'll do.
My line is a specialty line--only fine goods--and I'll bring in a small bunch of samples tonight about the time you close up.' Merchants like to deal with a man who is strictly business when they both get to doing business. Then is the time to put friends.h.i.+p and joking on the shelf.
”That night at ten o'clock I was back at the store with a bundle under my arm. The man who is too proud to carry a bundle once in a while would better never start on the road. The proprietor whispered to the hat buyer--I overheard the words--'Large Eastern factory'--and together they began to look at my samples. The new buyer went to the shelves and got out some of the goods which had come from my house to compare with my samples,--which were just the same quality. But, after fingering both, he said right out to the proprietor: 'There's no comparison. I've told you all along that the factory was the place to buy.'
”I booked my order--it was a fat one, too--solid case lots.
”'Shall I s.h.i.+p these from Orange Valley or Chicago?' I asked.
”'Why do you ask that?' asked the proprietor.
”'Because you have bought a bill from a firm you have dealt with for twenty years, Blank and Company of Chicago, that I represent, and I do not want one who has favored me to pay any extra freight. You will pardon me, I'm sure, for not telling you the whole truth until now; but this was the only way in which I could overcome your prejudice.'”
”That's one on me,” said the merchant. ”Come--boys, you are in on this too--I'll buy the smokes.”
Many traveling men make mistakes by steering shy of cranks. The so- called crank is the easiest man to approach, if only you go at him right.
Once I sat at dinner with two other traveling men who were strangers to me--as strange as one traveling man ever is to another. This is not, however, very ”strange,” for the cosmopolitan life of the road breeds a good fellows.h.i.+p and a sort of secret society fraternity among all knights of the grip. My territory being new, I made inquiry regarding the merchants of a certain town to which I intended to go.
”Don't go there,” spoke up one of my table companions. ”There's no one there who's any good except old man Duke and he's the biggest crank on earth. He discounts his bills,--but Lord, it's a job to get near him.”
Some men on the road are vulgar; but will not this comment apply to some few of any cla.s.s of men?
”My friend,” said companion number two, looking straight at the man who had just made the above remarks, ”I've been on the road these many years and, if my observation counts for anything, those we meet are, to a great extent, but reflections of ourselves. True, many call Mr.
Duke peculiar, but I have always got along with him without any trouble. I consider him a gentleman.”
I went to the ”old crank's” town. As I rode on the train, louder than the clacking of the car wheels, I heard myself saying over and over again: ”_Those we meet are, to a great extent, but reflections of ourselves._”
When I went into the old gentleman's store, he was up front in his office at work on his books. I merely said, ”Good morning, sir,” and went back and sat down by the stove. It's never a good thing to interrupt a merchant when he's busy. He, and he alone, knows what is most important for him to do. Maybe he has an urgent bill or sight draft to meet; maybe he has a rush order to get off in the next mail; maybe he is figuring up his profit or his loss on some transaction.
Then is not the time to state your business if you wish to make your point. The traveling man must not forget that the merchant's store is a place of business; that he is on the lookout for good things and just as anxious to buy good goods advantageously as the salesman is to sell them; and that he will generally lend an ear, for a moment at least,--if properly approached--to any business proposition.
After a while, the old gentleman came back to the stove and, as he approached, politely said to me, ”Is there something I can do for you, suh?”
I caught his southern accent and in a moment was on my guard. I arose and, taking off my hat--for he was an old gentleman--replied: ”That remains with you, sir,” and I briefly stated my business, saying finally, ”As this is my first time in your town and as my house is perhaps new to you, possibly, if you can find the time to do so, you may wish to see what I have.” Recalling that one of my table companions had said he considered him a gentleman I was especially careful to be polite to the merchant. And politeness is a jewel that every traveling man should wear in his cravat.
”I shall see you at one thirty, suh. Will you excuse me now?” With this the old gentleman returned to his office. I immediately left the store. The important thing to get a merchant to do is to consent to look at your goods. When you can get him to do this, keep out of his way until he is ready to fulfil his engagement. Then, when you have done your business, pack your goods and leave town. What the merchant wants chiefly with the traveling man is to _do business_ with him.
True, much visiting and many odd turns are sometimes necessary to get the merchant to the point of ”looking,” but when you get him there, leave him until he is ready to ”look.” Friends.h.i.+ps, for sure, will develop, but don't force them.
At one twenty-nine that afternoon I started for the ”old crank's”
store. It was just across the street from my sample room. I met him in the middle of the street. He was a crank about keeping his engagements promptly. I respect a man who does this. The old gentleman looked carefully, but not tediously, at my goods, never questioning a price.
In a little while, he said: ”I shall do some business with you, suh; your goods suit me.”