BETTY COMES HOME
When I got down to breakfast one morning the Mater was there with a
letter in her hand which had a Florida post-mark on it. Her face was
very grave.
"Hullo, Mater," I said; then, noticing the envelope, "Nothing wrong, I
hope?"
"Why, no; but I've got a little disappointment for you."
"Betty isn't sick again?" I asked anxiously.
"Now, don't worry, my dear," she said; "but I want you to let me tell
you"--here she hesitated and looked at me for a moment, then shook her
head sorrowfully and under her breath said, "Poor boy!"
"Good gracious, Mother, tell me quickly what it is!"
"There, there, sit down."
I sat down. My throat felt parched. Mother's remarks made me think all
kinds of dreadful things had happened to my Betty. She stood behind my
chair and put her arms on my shoulders and said: "Well, my poor boy,
your time of ease will soon be over. Betty will be home next Wednesday."
I felt as if a ton of bricks had been taken off my chest, and at once
forgave Mother for her joke.
I had just bought three electric vacuum cleaners, and Larsen thought I
was crazy.
"Retail at thirty-five dollars!" he said.
"Cost me twenty-two," I retaliated.
"H'm!"
"Besides," I continued, "remember that we are going to dominate the
electrical supply field."
"And toilet articles--don't forget them," Larsen laughed.
That was his hobby; and it was a hobby that meant dollars and cents to
me, for that business was growing steadily all the time.
We had even added toilet soap, because we had been asked for it several
times. People came in to leave their safety razors to be sharpened and
then bought a stick of shaving soap, and also asked if we had any toilet
soap. So, right or wrong, we had gone into it. Martin had the right
idea. "If you can make profit out of it it's all right."
Coming back to our vacuum cleaners, I had felt that we ought to have
everything electrical, just so that we could dominate the field. I might
have been wrong in my reasoning, but that was how it struck me. I had
asked Martin if he didn't agree with me.
"I most surely do, Mr. Black," he said. "I think you have the right idea
on that, and I think you will sell some vacuum cleaners." He pursed his
lips, a habit he had when thinking, then added, "And, even if you don't
sell them, you can make a good profit out of them."
Larsen shot him a questioning look.
"In fact," continued Martin, "when you think it over, you might decide
not to bother to sell them at all, but just rent them during the spring
cleaning time, which is coming on very soon. You ought to be able rent
them for a dollar a day, without any trouble. I think that in sixty days
you can rent those machines so that they wouldn't cost you anything."
That was on Monday, and in the evening we had quite an interesting
discussion at our "directors'" meeting.
Jones suggested that we could send a man to work the vacuum cleaners,
and then, while he was in the house he could sell the woman other
things.
"That certainly is a very interesting suggestion," said Martin, "and
possibly could be worked. But there's one difficulty. All the ads. of
the vacuum cleaner show women and children operating the machine. If we
suggested that a man ought to work it, they might wonder what is wrong
with the machine--or with us. Besides, Mr. Black, don't you think it
would take us too much from our regular work, so that, either there or
here, we would have to have extra help?"
After I thought the matter was dropped, Martin said, "Do you think that
one dollar is sufficient to charge for a day's use of that machine?
Don't you think we can get two dollars just as easily? Also remember
that, if the machine has been out one day, from our point of view it
becomes unsalable as a new machine."
"Do you think they will stand for that much?" asked Jones.
"Oh, yes," I chimed in, "I'm sure they will. It is going to save the
women two or three days' work; and, as you know, many people hire a man
or woman to come for a day to beat the rugs, and they can't get anybody
under two dollars a day, and it usually takes them a day to do the job."
So we decided to charge two dollars a day for the rent of the vacuum
cleaners.
Charlie Martin suggested that we ought to get up an ad. for the sweeper
service. I thought that Fellows ought to do it, but Charlie was so
insistent that I told him to go ahead with it.
Jimmy gave us an idea which I thought was pretty good. "Say, Boss," he
said, "couldn't we sell baseball goods?"
"Barlow has always handled those," I said, "and--and--" I trailed off to
nothing, because I realized that, because Barlow handled these, it was
no reason why I should not, and, if I stopped handling everything he
did, I would have very few goods in the store. I had had to give up the
idea of farm implements, because of the big hold he had on that
business, and the amount of money it required to carry the necessary
stock.
"I'm captain of the Little Tigers," broke in Jimmie, "and if yer put in
baseball goods, why I can get all our gang to buy from here--and, say, I
know a couple o' kids that would like to go and see the captains of the
other kids' teams around here--especially if you were to give a little
rake off."
We all laughed--except Larsen. "That's one of the best suggestions
Jimmie ever give us," he said, "Let his pals sell for a commission. They
get business we never get."
Here Martin broke in, "I know a house in Boston that would supply us
with all the catalogs we wanted, and we could sell from catalog if
necessary, and they would give us a substantial discount for any orders
we sent them."
"Write to them, Charlie," I said, "and see what they'll do."
What a tremendous lot of different lines there are which a retail store
can handle--even if only for a brief season each year--and make some
profit out of them! But you sure do have to keep on the jump to think of
them all. I know my store would never have been handling the number of
lines that we had then, if it hadn't been for the Monday meetings. These
meetings seemed to tone up all of us, and, once we had gone on record to
do something, we seemed to strive hard to live up to it, so that we
wouldn't let the other fellows have the laugh on us, which they
certainly would if we had fallen down. It was at that meeting that I
suggested a motto. It was this:
"Eternal humping is the price of Success."
I asked Charlie Martin what he thought of it. He said, "It's fine, and
if you used the word _vigilance_ instead of _humping_--why you would be
only about twenty-five hundred years behind the fellow who originated
it!"
The day Betty was to return I was at the station at 3:30, although her
train wasn't due 'till 3:55--and then the train was fifteen minutes
late! How I fumed and fretted at the inefficiency of our railroad
service, but I forgot all that when the train finally puffed into the
station, and Betty tripped out of the car, right into my arms. I can't
express the happiness I experienced--all the hundred and one things we
had to talk over--all the foolish little stunts we did, just like a
couple of kids--but both of us supremely happy! I extend my heartfelt
commiseration to those poor benighted wights who don't possess a wife.