THE “CHIEF” SALESMAN.
THE next morning Joshua went round with his roommate to his new place of
business. The shop was a small one, with a moderate stock of fancy
goods. There was one little circumstance that attracted his attention.
His employer’s name was Remington, but the name on the sign was
JOHN FORBES.
“I thought this was your store,” said he, a little surprised.
“So it is.”
“But your name isn’t Forbes.”
“Oh,” said Remington, “you noticed the sign. That’s easily explained. I
bought the business of Mr. Forbes, but as his name was well known in the
neighborhood, I thought it best to keep the old name. Do you see?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“You see it isn’t a large place,” said Mr. Remington, as they entered,
“but I do a pretty good business. What do you think, now, that my clear
profits were last year?”
“Two thousand dollars,” hazarded Joshua, who was used to the small
incomes of a country trader.
“Six,” answered Mr. Remington.
“What, six thousand dollars?”
“Certainly. You see we turn our goods over quickly. This isn’t the busy
season, but that will soon be here, and then the store will be crowded
with customers from morning till night.”
As the entire stock in trade probably did not exceed two, or at most,
three thousand dollars in value, this was rather a hard statement to
believe; but then Joshua was fresh from the country, and rather
unsophisticated.
Mr. Remington gave his new clerk some instructions as to the locality of
the goods, and the prices, and he took his place behind the counter,
proud of being a city salesman. He was not compelled to work very hard.
There was seldom more than one customer in the store at a time, and none
bought heavily.
“It’s rather quiet this morning,” said Mr. Remington, laying down the
morning paper, over which he had spent an hour without interruption.
Joshua assented.
“You see it isn’t the busy season. That makes a great difference.”
“I suppose it does.”
“You’d hardly know the place two months hence. You must make up your
mind to work, then, Drummond. They’ll keep you running, I assure you.”
Joshua was not particularly fond of work, as we know, but it occurred to
him that it would not be quite so dull if he had more customers to wait
upon, and was rather enlivened by the prospect of a busier time.
When half-past twelve came, his employer said, “I’m going to dinner. I
shall be gone an hour. When I come back, you can go.”
So Joshua was left alone. He felt a little hungry himself. Still he had
a feeling of importance in being left in sole charge of the store. As
there was nothing else in particular to do, he went to the desk, and
wrote the following letter to his friend, Sam Crawford, in New York:
“CHICAGO, Sept. --, 186--.
“DEAR SAM:--I seize a few moments from business”--Joshua wrote this with
great complacence--“to write you an account of how I am getting along. I
have not been a week in Chicago, yet am already chief salesman in one of
the principal stores here.” (I am afraid our friend Joshua purposely
exaggerated in this statement.) “I like my employer very much, and he
seems to have taken a great fancy to me. His nephew was very anxious to
obtain the situation, but he seemed to think I had good business
abilities, and gave it to me instead.
“I have been about the city some, and like it. I think I shall make it
my home, and some time Mr. Remington will probably take me into
partnership. I am writing at noon, when we have few customers. I like
this store better than yours. I am sorry we are not in the same city, as
I should like to go round with you. Last evening I played a game of
billiards with Mr. Remington. He said I did finely for the first time,
and thinks I would make an excellent player.
“But I must leave off to wait on a customer”--it was an old woman, who
wanted a paper of pins--“and must close for this time.
“Your friend,
“JOSHUA DRUMMOND.
“P. S.--Have you seen anything of the old man since I left New York?
Don’t let anybody know I am in Chicago. I only get twelve dollars a week
now”--this again was a slight exaggeration--“but I expect to have my
salary raised soon.”
When Sam received this letter, it surprised him, and I am not quite sure
whether he was entirely pleased with his friend’s good fortune.
“Well, that beats all!” he exclaimed, “that such a greenhorn as Joshua
Drummond should get a situation in Chicago within a week; at twelve
dollars a week, too! Why, he don’t know a cane from a broomstick, and
yet he gets half as much again as I do. Chicago must be a good place to
go. If such a greenhorn can get twelve dollars, I ought to get eighteen
or twenty. I wonder whether it would pay me to go out there.”
It will be seen that Sam had no suspicion of the falseness of Joshua’s
statements. In fact, he did not give him credit for the ability to
deceive him. He really thought, therefore, that Joshua obtained the sum
he claimed. Still he had prudence enough not to give up a certainty for
an uncertainty, and contented himself with writing Joshua to look round,
and, if he saw an opening for a clerk with several years’ experience, to
let him know.
“I would be willing to come for my present salary--twenty dollars a
week,” he wrote. “My present employer is willing I should go away until
I am twenty-one, when I will come back, and go into partnership with
him. He thinks it will be of advantage to me to become acquainted with
Western trade. Besides, I should like to be with you. We might room
together, you know.”
This was adroitly written, so that Joshua need not doubt the truth of
representations he had made in New York. They answered the purpose. So
the two were mutually deceived by the representations of the other.
It made Joshua feel rather important to have Sam apply to him for a
situation, and he at once wrote back, saying that he would let him know
at once if he heard of any vacancy. “But I am afraid,” he added, “that
we can’t room together. The fact is, I and Mr. Remington room together,
and he would be disappointed to have me leave him. But you might get a
room in the same house. They change eight dollars a week board; it is
nicer than your boarding place in New York, though that will do very
well.”
“That Remington must be a fool!” thought Sam. “He seems perfectly taken
up with Joshua, and I am sure he’s about as stupid a fellow as I ever
set eyes on.”
You see Sam and Joshua were intimate friends, and intimate friends are
very apt to notice each other’s faults, and to judge them most severely,
are they not? What is the use of having friends if you can’t abuse them?
So the result was that Sam, toiling in an obscure Eighth avenue store
for eight dollars a week, felt very much wronged to think that Joshua
had at one bound stepped into a more desirable situation than himself.
If he could only have known the real state of the case, and how much
Joshua had exaggerated the advantages of his position, he would have
been very much comforted. If he had been a disinterested friend he would
have rejoiced at the good fortune of Joshua; but then he was not
disinterested.
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