A Man of Samples. Something about the men he met "On the Road" Part 9

CHAPTER X.

I left Mr. Bell, and went a square farther down the street to a hardware store, where our house had occasionally done some business. I was very familiar with the firm's name, and had heard a great many stories of Mr. Harris, the buyer. There was an air of push and prosperity in the store, and when I inquired for the buyer I was shown into the office. There were two men at the desks, and a man lying on a lounge; the latter proved to be the man I wanted.

"I don't feel like doing any business just now," said he, "come in after dinner."

This was pleasanter than to be told not to come in at all, so I made another call on the street, but did no business. As I took my place at the dinner table a man opposite me (we two were alone) nodded, and asked if I was selling hardware, saying he had seen me come out of Mr.

Bell's. I told him my business, and he gave me his card: Tibbals, of Meriden, Conn. I've seen many handsomer men than Tibbals, but I have not often met one who was better company. He had been on the road, so he said, for twenty years, selling plated ware, and I expect "Rogers Bro., 1847," was tattooed all over him.

"Have you sold Harris?" he asked.

"No, he told me to come in after dinner."

"What a lazy fellow he is! That man is the laziest one on my route. I took his order this morning while he lay on a lounge. I asked him if he was sick, and he said he was not, but he was tired. Great Scott!

just think of a man getting tired doing nothing."

I saw Tibbals liked to talk, so I led him on to more details about Harris.

"Some folks are lucky," said he. "When I came out here in '65 Harris was a traveling man, but the next January he was given an interest.

The house was old, rich, well known and well liked. They carried everything in stock from a bar of iron to a knitting-needle. Harris took the books and gradually got to be the buyer. He used to have some ambition, but for the ten years last past he takes the world as easy as if he was a fat old dog."

"Do they still make money?"

"No, I guess not. They don't buy as they used to, and they are always grumbling. But other men have made lots of money here in these twenty years and didn't have one-tenth the start Harris had."

"Does he drink?"

"Of course he does. Great Scott! when did you ever see a lazy cuss that didn't drink? I've often gone over to the billiard-room and taken his order there. I believe, by thunder, he would leave a customer any time if a crony came for him to go off on a good time."

I do like to hear an old traveling man. If he has the inclination he can give one lots of points. Tibbals went on:

"I ran across a man in Seebarger's the other day that I used to know in Toledo and Cleveland. He was stock man twenty years ago and ten years ago, and is to-day. He's a first-rate man; solid, reliable, competent; he seems to be content, and he used to seem content. But how, in the name of H. C. Wilc.o.x, can a man be so satisfied with himself? I don't understand it. I should want to be going up or down; I wouldn't be a setting hen all my life."

"You have seen many houses go up and down," I said.

"Well, I have. I remember a Detroit concern that in '65 had a nice, small trade, but each year seemed to be doing better, until I used to think they were about the sharpest set on my route. Business was always good, and the goose was away up. One of the partners built the nicest house in the city, and lived like a baron. But, by hokey, he's on the road selling goods to-day, and another man lives in his nice house."

"What brings them down?"

"Big head, almost altogether. They get the big head; they fancy they are all Claflins or Stewarts, and they suddenly drop through a hole.

It's almighty hard to be successful and not take to wors.h.i.+ping yourself. And the younger men fall into the trap easier than the old ones do or did. Take such a man as Wm. Bingham, of Cleveland; I don't see any change in him in twenty years. Yet the house has grown to be a very large and very successful one. Did you ever know Tennis?"

"No, I did not."

"In '65, Tennis & Son seemed to be the booming firm in hardware there.

They were rich and had a big trade. The old man died, the boys ran through the business so fast that you couldn't catch it with a gun.

Oh, I've seen a good many fellows go under in twenty years."

"And you think it's always their own fault?"

"Not always. I've seen some mighty good fellows go down. I remember a Toledo concern--good workers, good habits, living economically, but '76 pinched them to the wall. I tell you it's hard to see such men fail. It's like death to them. They fight against it until it's no use fighting longer, and it's pitiful to meet them."

"How is plated ware?" I asked, to be sociable.

"Like all other ware, mighty hard to sell. There's several Rogers, all genuine, but I'm the head one. Our goods are the best known and the best, but if another 'Rogers' offers 2 1/2 per cent, better, off goes my customer. Do you have folks so confounded close?"

I a.s.sured him, laughingly, that I had.

"Well," said he, "it's funny. I'm not so all-fired close when I buy a suit of clothes; I don't leave a man if he won't throw in a pair of suspenders; but dealers will go back on their best friend for a tooth-pick. I'd like to sell a line of goods like Chris Morgan's, where the price isn't mentioned."

After dinner I called on Harris and found him scolding the boys in the store-room. I saw he was irritable, and would have gone out if I could, but he saw me and I had to advance.

"D--n those Eastern fellows," said he, vindictively, "I'd like to wring their necks."

I had to appear interested and ask why.

"Because they're such infernal fools. Here's a case of 150 pounds just in by express with $3.37 charges; could have come by Merchants Dispatch for 69 cents. But the fool clerks they have down there have the most insane idea about express, and every little while will shove something like this in on us."

"Can't you charge it back?"

"D---d if I don't!"

He went into the office and ordered the book-keeper to charge up the difference. I could sympathize with him. As stock clerk I had seen many a box come in from the East by express that we were in no hurry for, and that was never ordered to be so sent. The parties doing most of this are not in New York stores, but at the factories. In the small towns where most factories are, express and freight bills are paid once a month in a lump, and the clerks and s.h.i.+ppers do not see the cost of each s.h.i.+pment. This makes them careless as to such charges, and to receive or send a big box by express is a matter that does not need a second thought. But in the cities, where each package is paid for when delivered, the clerks soon learn how express charges count up, and they do not s.h.i.+p so carelessly.

Perhaps I said something of this to Harris, but he finally turned to me sharply and said, "What are you selling?"

I handed him my card again.

"Oh, yes; well, we don't need any."

Goodness! How disappointed I was! I guess I looked it, for he added, "Unless you've got some d--d low prices."

I a.s.sured him I had, and made up my mind to give him only our ordinary figures; I had heard our senior say once that the man who talked this way was never a very close buyer.

Just at this moment a very pert young man came in at the office door, walked up to Harris, handed out his card in a way that pushed me to one side, and said:

"Mr. Harris, we've got the best butcher knife there is in the market."

"Better than Wilson's?"

"Yes, sir; better than anybody's."

"How does your price compare with Wilson's?"

"We are about the same."

"Then I don't want it. Wilson's are good enough for me."