A Man of Samples. Something about the men he met "On the Road" Part 6
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"Are you going there?" he asked.
I said I was.
"I'll go with you." This suited me. We saw no look of surprise on Whipper's face. I went straight to the point. "I can't sell the rifles at $4.60, Mr. Whipper, unless I know some one else has quoted that price; if they have, I'll meet it."
"Just scratch them off," said he, as calm as a day in June.
"But has any one given you such a figure?"
"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies. If I can get them at $4.60 I will take them."
I could get nothing more out of him and we started back. On the way we met Tom, Whipper's book-keeper. I asked him what it meant. "Oh," said he, laughing, "I guess the old man thinks he can get them at $4.60, but we have so many on hand, perhaps it's only his way of canceling the item." And that was all I ever got from them about it.
CHAPTER VII.
I parted with Blissam at the hotel, he going to the South and I West, and about 7 o'clock that evening I reached B--. I had often heard our traveling man speak of the hotel here, and the popularity it had among salesmen, so I was prepared to find the smoking room tolerably well filled when I went in there after supper. There were half a dozen or more in one group, who seemed to be on the best of terms, and I listened to their talk. I found that they were discussing the mistakes of the s.h.i.+pping and stock clerks, and of course that touched me upon a tender spot, and I was all attention.
"Some of our boys used to make the most absurd mistakes," said one talker; "but the old man was about as bad as any of them. I remember getting most mighty scared once. I had been entry clerk and s.h.i.+pper and jack-of-all-trades in the house. One night's mail brought us back a letter we had mailed, with the notation of the postmaster, 'No such man here.' Taylor, the boss, took the mail, calling out to the book-keeper, 'f.a.gue, I guess we've got a mistake on you this time.'
f.a.gue looked at it, saying, 'I don't believe I've made a mistake, but if I have I must stand it.' The envelope was torn open and the address on the bill was the same as that on the outside, John Smith, New Castle, Ind. Then I was sent to the order book, but the order there was New Castle, Ind. Taylor was getting mad. I was told to find the original order, which I did, and discovered that it was from John Smith, New Carlisle, Ind. Says Taylor, 'There's altogether too many mistakes here. Now these goods are lying at New Castle, and will have to be ordered back; the chances are Smith will refuse to receive them, and we will lose at least $75. The man that made that mistake ought to be known; if we owe him anything he can have it in the morning, and then let him be discharged. What do you say, Dewey?' 'It's a bad mistake,' said Dewey, the partner, 'and we are making a good many, but it's pritty hard to discharge a man. Let us see who made it, and show him how much loss it causes us, and give him a pritty good scolding.'
'No,' said Taylor, 'he ought to be discharged; d--n him, he ain't fit to be around a store; if we owe him anything pay him up, and let him go; it will be a lesson to the rest. 'Billy,' turning to me, 'bring the book here so we can see who made that mistake.' Now I was mighty afraid that I had done it. I had been doing that work, more or less of the time, and I trembled as if I had the ague. And in looking at it before, I had paid no attention to the writing. I went back to the desk for the book, and brought it to Taylor. Dewey came over to look at it as Taylor opened the book and found the place. 'H--l,' said Taylor, 'I did it myself!' Jerusalem! but I felt good! 'Well,' said Dewey, 'if we owe you anything you'd better take it.' I was just about dying to holler. The next day all the boys knew it, and Taylor was mighty quiet for several weeks after that."
"I came near losing a customer once," said another man, "by a little carelessness. I went into his store in a great hurry; sold him a bill, and collected pay for a previous one. I neglected to enter the collection on my book and also to report to the house. They s.h.i.+pped the goods ordered, but supposing that I had not collected amount due from him, inclosed a statement of account with a 'please remit' at the bottom. No bull ever flew at a red rag quicker than he flew at that statement, and he wrote a saucy letter, saying he had paid me, and he didn't like being dunned for a paid bill, etc., etc. You all know just how a small man will act under those conditions. They forwarded his letter to me and I acknowledged my carelessness; I wrote him taking all the blame on my shoulders, and explaining how the mistake happened. But his Irish was up, and in a few weeks he went into the store, still talking 'bigitty,' proposing to settle up and quit. The book-keeper took his money, handing him back his change and a receipt.
He counted the change and pushed it back, saying, 'That ain't right.'
The boss stood near, taking all the tongue-las.h.i.+ng, but feeling as if his cup would run over if the book-keeper had now been guilty of making a mistake. He took the change, ran it over hastily, and saw that it was correct. This was nuts. 'It seems,' said he, 'you occasionally make mistakes, Mr. B., so you ought to make allowance for others. It is a devilish smart man who never makes a mistake, and a devilish mean one who will not make allowances for the mistakes made by another.' 'Oh, I'm mean, am I,' said B.; 'well, I pay my bills.'
'So do other people; you're not the only man who pays.' But B. went off on his high horse. The next time I went there I could'nt touch him with a ten-foot pole, but the trip after he came around all right."
"I wish I had no collecting to do," said a man near me; "I can sell goods, but collecting is the deuce-and-all. I envy the New Yorkers who don't have any collecting to do. Their business is to sell, and the house collects."
"But when we do have to look after an account." said a man whom I had set down as a New Yorker from the first, "it is always a tough one.
Not long ago our house told me to stop at a town to see one Berry & Co., who had let two drafts come back, and then had written an impudent letter. They had given us an order for about $700 worth of goods, but they are quoted light, and the old man concluded he'd send on a part of it, and when that was paid send another part, and so on.
They refused to pay because they did not get all the goods ordered, and when asked for a report of their condition refused to give one, saying parties could find out about them from Dun or Bradstreet. I presented the account and was told they wouldn't pay until they had to. I reasoned with them, but the fellow was a big-head, and the more I talked the worse he acted. I finally told him I was sent there to get the money or put the account in the hands of an attorney, and went out saying I would be back again at a given hour and I hoped they would be ready to settle up. I went to the other dealers there whom I knew and they all said the fellow hadn't a leg to stand on in court. I went back in the afternoon, and after getting another tongue las.h.i.+ng, he gave me a check, but told me I had lied, as he handed it to me. I haven't wanted to punch any one in years as I did him, but I gave him my opinion of him in a few words, and he won't soon forget it, either.
Now, you Western men don't have that kind of trouble in your collecting."
"No," said a grocer, "our men never say they will not pay; it's the other way; they say they will and then don't. Seems to me I could get along with a man who said he wouldn't but could be made to. I could do something there; but the fellow who solemnly a.s.sures you he will send in a large remittance next week, and then doesn't, is a hard one to manage."
"Do you want to know who, in my opinion, is the smallest man on earth?" asked a Chicago traveler.
Of course they all looked a.s.sent.
"Well," said he, "Ed. Smythe told about him the other day, and I know the man. Ed. had his samples open at the Moody House and called on the man. Yes, he would go look at them; he wanted a few German goods. He went there, looked the cards all over (Ed. has three trunks), made a sheet full of memo's, and said he would write out an order. Ed. called around about 6 o'clock in the evening. There are two chairs in the office; the hog sat in one and had his feet in the other; he was reading a newspaper and kept on reading; Ed. stood around patiently, as any man can afford to be patient if he is going to get an order. In the course of half an hour a friend came in and wanted to know of the hog if he wasn't ready to go somewhere. He jumped up, pushed his books in the safe, talked to his friend, and ignored Ed. After a while Ed.
said: 'Have you made out your order, Mr. B.?' 'No, sir; I'm not going to give you an order. I don't intend to buy any more from your house,'
and he walked into Ed. in a way that he evidently thought would impress his friend that he was a wonderful cuss. Ed. is a good-natured fellow, and business is business; he didn't open on him then, but he got even before long. I tell you the smallest man in the world; the meanest dog in the kennel; the dirtiest whelp I know, is the fellow who thinks it's brave to abuse a drummer when he has him in his own store."
This received a universal amen.
"Let me read you a sketch from the _American Grocer_ on 'Smart Alecks,'" said a man, drawing a copy of that paper out of his pocket.
"It's called, 'Solomon Smart visits the City.'"
CHAPTER VIII.
Solomon Smart, of New Portage, O., dealer in general merchandise and country produce, had been in business three years, but had never, until the present occasion, visited the city where the larger share of his purchases came from.
Going to the city was something to which he had long looked forward.
He had dreamt of it when he was a clerk; he had eagerly questioned the traveling men about it, and his old employer always told marvelous tales when he returned from his annual trip.
When the old man died, and Solomon, a.s.sisted by his father-in-law, was enabled to buy the stock, he began to arrange for a business trip to the city, but somehow every plan he made was interfered with and came to naught. It was a source of great grief to him that he could not carry out his plans.
"If I could only get to Toledo," he often said to his wife, "I could save at least 10 per cent on prices, and I could pick up job lots of things at big discounts. All the jobbing houses have odds and ends that they are willing to sell at anything they can get, in order to get rid of the stuff. I hate to buy of drummers. It costs piles of money to keep them on the road, and the men that buy of them have to pay it."
Solomon, as may be supposed, was not popular with traveling men. His contempt for them was expressed openly, and his opinion of their being a curse to retailers was usually the first thing he told them, after be had looked at their cards. Some of them argued the matter with him.
Some of the more independent members of the profession told him he was a blank fool. But those who called regularly let him say his say and then squeezed an order from him, keeping their opinion of him for use outside his store.
His peculiar opinion of traveling salesmen was not his only peculiarity. Most of "the boys" on the road mentioned him as "Smarty Smart," because of certain tendencies he had of making reductions in prices, of marking off charges for cartage or boxing, or of returning goods because he had changed his mind after buying them.
Solomon didn't intend to be mean; he fancied he was only standing up for his rights, and if he occasionally took a little more than his conscience told him was his "rights," he soothed that by saying to himself that the house wanted to sell him so mighty bad they would stand it.
Let a man be const.i.tuted as Solomon was and his "smartness" grows on him. He has an idea that every house he buys from is trying to get unfair advantage of him, and that he must present a bold front or he will be imposed upon. He always magnifies his importance as a buyer, and fancies that every order he sends in is met with a hand-organ and treated to champagne.
So when he finally saw his way clear to making the long-wished-for visit, some of his pleasantest antic.i.p.ations were the welcomes he expected from the heads of the wholesale houses, and the invitations he would receive to dine and wine with them. But he did not propose that they should pull the wool over his eyes. He would show them that he was no "greeny," and that he knew what was what.
He carried two large empty valises with him to bring home as much of his purchases as possible as baggage, and when he reached the city hotel late in the evening the clerk sized him up as easily and as accurately as if he had known him for ages, and sent him to one of the poorest rooms in the house most unceremoniously.
The next morning, bright and early, Mr. Smart started out to do business. His first call was on a hardware man with whom he had done considerable business, and from whom he was sure of a warm welcome. He was met by a pleasant young man whose manner seemed to ask, What is your business? He asked for Mr. Braun. Mr. Braun was not down yet but would be in a short time. Would he wait? No; Solomon didn't propose to wait. He was there on business and must attend to his business.
Perhaps the young man could wait on him? No, indeed; Solomon didn't come to town to be waited on by clerks. Perhaps he would call again, but he said it with a doubtful tone as if he was not sure that he would patronize a house where the proprietor didn't get around earlier in the morning. Then again he was somewhat indignant that the clerk should not have known him, and when he was asked to leave his name he went off saying it was no matter.
Then he called at Sikkor's, wondering if anyone would be in there. Was Mr. Sikkor in? No; did he want to see him personally? Personally! He wanted to see him on business, of course. He would not be at the store that morning, but Mr. Birden was at the desk, yonder, if he would do.
Well, it was good to find one proprietor in; and he moved over to Birden's desk, where that gentleman was busy opening the morning's mail. He looked up at the approach of Smart, said "Good morning," and waited for Solomon to tell his business.
"This is Mr. Birden?"
"Yes, sir," pleasantly.
Solomon had rather expected him to say, "This is Mr. Smart?" and to hold out his arms, so he was somewhat disconcerted.
"I buy goods of your house occasionally."
"Yes? Whereabouts is your place?"
"North Portage."
"North Portage, eh? What is the name, please?"
A Man of Samples. Something about the men he met "On the Road" Part 6
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