Part 11 (1/2)

”With this the old man turned on me and said:

”'Looker here, young man, I've told you twict that I don't want to buy any of your goods. Now, you just get them in your grip and get them out of here right quick; if you don't I'll throw them out and you with them.'

”Well, the old duffer was a little bigger than I was, and I didn't want to get into any trouble with him; not that I cared anything about having a sc.r.a.p with him, but I thought that the firm wouldn't like it, and if they got onto me they'd fire me. So, without saying a word, I began to pack my goods together.

”About that time a customer came in who wanted to buy a pair of shoes.

Some of my samples were still on the counter near the shoe shelves.

The old man, with a sweep of his hand, just cleaned the counter of my samples and there I was, picking them up off the floor and putting them into my grip. I felt like hitting him over the head with a nail puller but I buckled up the straps and started sliding the grip along,--it was so infernally heavy--to the front door.

”Before I got to the front door, he came up and took the grip out of my hand and piled it out on the sidewalk and gave me a shove. Then he went back to show the customer the pair of shoes.

”I was just a boy then--was just nineteen--and this was the first man I'd called on.

”'If they're all like this,' thought I to myself, 'I believe I'll go back home and sell them a pair at a time to the boys I know who ”come in” for them.'

”I lugged that grip back to the hotel, hungry as I was. There was ice on the sidewalk but I was sweating like a mule pulling a bob-tailed street car full of fat folks. I was almost famished but I went to my room and cried like a child. My heart was broken.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”My stomach was beginning to gnaw, but i didn't dare go out”]

”But after awhile my nerve came back to me, and I thought, surely all the merchants I call on won't be like that man,--and I washed up and went down to supper. After eating something I felt better. At the supper table I told an old traveling man, who was sitting at the table with me, about the way I'd been treated.

”'Well, come on, my boy, and I'll sell you a bill tonight. That old fellow is the meanest dog in Iowa. No decent traveling man will go near him. As a rule, you'll find that merchants will treat you like a gentleman. The best thing you can do is to scratch that old whelp off the list. Of course you know,' said he, giving me advice which I needed very much, 'you'll often run up against a man who is a little sour, but if you sprinkle sugar on him in the right kind of way, you can sweeten him up.'

”You know how it is, boys, even now, all of us like to give a helping hand to the young fellow who's just starting out. I would almost hand over one of my customers to a young man to give him encouragement, and so would you. We've all been up against the game ourselves and know how many things the young fellow runs up against to dishearten him.

”As I think of my early experiences, I recall with a great deal of grat.i.tude in my heart the kind deeds that were done for me when I was the green first-tripper, by the old timers on the road. My new friend took me down the street to one of his customers and made him give me an order. That night I went to bed the happiest boy in Iowa.”

With this one of the boys called a waiter. As we lit our cigars my friend Moore, who was next to tell his story, said, ”Well, boys, here's to Our First Experiences.”

CHAPTER VIII.

TACTICS IN SELLING.

The man on the road is an army officer. His soldiers are his samples.

His enemy is his compet.i.tor. He fights battles every day. The ”spoils of war” is _business_.

The traveling man must use tactics just the same as does the general.

He may not have at stake the lives of other men and the success of his country; but he does have at stake--and every day--his own livelihood, a chance for promotion--a partners.h.i.+p perhaps--and always, the success of his firm.

Many are the turns the salesman takes to get business. He must be always ready when his eyes are open, and sometimes in his dreams, to wage war. If he is of the wrong sort, once in a while he will give himself up to sharp practice with his customer; another time he will fight shrewdly against his compet.i.tor. Sometimes he must cajole the man who wishes to do business with him and at the same time, especially when his customer's credit is none too good, make it easy for him to get goods s.h.i.+pped; and, hardest of all, he must get the merchant's attention that he may show him his wares. Get a merchant to _looking_ at your goods and you usually sell a bill.

In the smoking room of a Pullman one night sat a bunch of the boys who, as is usual with them when they get together, were telling of their experiences. The smoker is the drummer's club-room when he is on a trip. On every train every night are told tales of the road which, if they were put in type, would make a book of compelling interest.

The life of the traveling man has such variety, such a change of scene, that a great deal more comes into it than mere buy and sell.

Yes, on this night of which I speak, the stories told were about tussles that my friends had had to get business.

As the train rounded a sharp curve, one of the boys, who was standing, b.u.mped his head against the door post. A New York hat man who saw the ”broken bonnet,” said, ”Your cracked cady reminds me of one time when I sold a bill of goods that pleased me, I believe, more than any other order that I ever took. I was over in the mining district of Michigan.

That's a pretty wide open country, you know. My old customer had quit the town. He couldn't make a 'stick' of it somehow. I had been selling him exclusively for so long that I thought I was queered with every other merchant in the town. But the season after my customer Hodges left there, much to my surprise, two men wrote into the house saying they would like to buy my goods. My stuff had always given Hodges'