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, assisted 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 constituted 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 anticipations 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?”
“Smart.”
“Yes.” Solomon could see that he might as well have said Smith, so far
as Birden's seeming to recall it was concerned, and he began to get
angry.
“How is trade, Mr. Smart?”
“Rather dull just at present.”
“Sorry to hear that; hope it will improve. You have a memorandum for
some of our goods, Mr. Smart? Let me call one of the men to wait on you.
Church, look here.”
And before Solomon had time to open his mouth he was introduced to
Church, who shook hands with him, linked his arm through his, and had
him half way to the sample room. They were getting on well till Church
asked: “Let me see, Mr. Smart, where is your place?”
“North Portage,” said Solomon in his crispest manner. No one seemed to
know him, or to remember him five seconds.
“Oh, yes; North Portage. Waite goes there. Waite's a good fellow; you
like him, don't you?”
“I'd like to have him stay at home. I never want to see a drummer.”
“Is that so?” and Church looked at him in mild surprise. “Well, what
shall we start on first?”
Solomon wasn't prepared to start on anything. It wasn't at all the way
he had expected to get started. He didn't like being pushed from one
proprietor to another, and then to a mere clerk, and to have that man
take it for granted that he was going to buy without any coaxing or
figuring. He was disappointed. He expected to have bought a bill here,
but there were other stores of the same kind in Toledo, and he believed
he'd punish these fellows for their indifference by going somewhere
else. Good idea! He would act on it.
He told Church that he guessed he wouldn't leave an order just then;
maybe he would come in again. Church coaxed him a little then, but it
was too late. Solomon was bound to go, and off he started for a notion
house.
The proprietor was in the office, shook hands with him, asked about
trade and crops and finally proposed to show him some goods. This was
more to Solomon's taste, and he bought readily, but he was disgusted
to see that prices were no lower than the traveling man had sold at.
He mentioned this to Shaw. “Lower? Of course not. We can't ask you one
price in Toledo and another in North Portage. My man carries my stock
into your store, lets you see the goods, quotes you prices and posts
you.”
“But his expenses are big; it costs you nothing to sell me now.”
“His expenses come out of my pocket; not out of yours. I would be mighty
glad if traveling men were done away with; but it would be a saving to
me, not to you.”
This rather staggered Solomon, for it upset one of his hobbies. As
he was finishing, and about to say “good-by” to Mr. Shaw, he saw the
book-keeper whisper into that gentleman's ear and turn away.
“By the by, Mr. Smart, my book-keeper tells me he has had some
correspondence with you over deductions made in remittances. These
little things are very annoying, and while the amount in dollars and
cents is nothing, still business ought to be done in a business way.”
Smart began to feel very hot.
“The book-keeper tells me that your last bill ran nearly two months over
time, and that you not only refused to pay interest, but did not pay
express on your remittance. Now, Mr. Smart, this is not right. Our place
of business is Toledo, not North Portage; our bills are due here, not
there; and if we allow them to run sixty days after due we are loaning
you money, and ought to be paid for the use of it.”
“I don't get interest from my customers,” said Solomon.
“That's your business and theirs. You do not sell them on a jobber's
profit. We deal with you as a business man, and in a business way. I
think I know just how you feel,” said Shaw, pleasantly; “when I began
business I felt the same way. I squeezed every cent that I could from
the men I bought from; but I discovered that it was poor policy. I
saved a few cents and lost the good will of the house, which was worth
dollars. I speak of all this in a kindly way, and to avoid future
misunderstandings. Don't you think of any thing else? No? Well, good-by,
I am glad you called and hope to do more with you in the future.” And
before Solomon knew it he was bowed out.
But he was boiling with rage. He was particularly angry with himself. He
had stood there and taken the lecture as if he was a boy. It was in
his mind to cancel the order just given to Shaw, but that gentleman had
dismissed him so politely and smoothly that he hadn't had time to do it.
It had never seemed possible to him that he would have listened to
such a lecture as that without giving back as good as he got, and then
sending the man and his goods to---, a place where there is no insurance
against fire.
In no very happy frame of mind his next call was on his dry-goods house.
Mr. Luce met him, when he introduced himself, decidedly coldly. Solomon
began to think that he would go to some other house with his order
rather than leave it here. But before he made a move to go out Mr. Luce
asked, “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“I don't know as there is.”
“Our Mr. Goodnow did not stop at your place the other day because of
your habit of returning goods. While we would be glad to do business
with you, we cannot allow anyone the privilege of ordering goods and
then returning them at our expense, if he happens to change his mind. I
do not try to make Eastern houses shoulder my mistakes, if I make any in
ordering goods, and I don't see why I should bear your burdens.”
“Why don't you send what I order? I didn't order the blue print I
returned the other day.”
“Mr. Goodnow is very positive that you did order it. It is always
possible that the small sample he carries with him appears differently
to a man than the goods do when seen in the whole piece. And a man might
occasionally be expected to make a mistake, as you did the other day
when you wrote us to send you three gross of corsets, when you intended,
you said afterward, to order but three dozen. But in the last three
bills bought of Goodnow you have sent back goods, and it is not possible
that he made such mistakes. Then you deduct from bills, though made out
at prices agreed upon.”
“The last cambrics were billed half a cent too high,” said Solomon.
“Then you shouldn't have ordered them. The time to make prices is when
you are buying. We have a price for every article in our stock; if you
ask it we will give it to you, and then you are at liberty to order or
not, as you think best; but if you send us an order for cambrics and
say nothing about the price you have no right to express them back to
us because our price happens to be different from what you expected. You
could have learned our price before ordering, and not having done so,
you ought to be man enough to stand to your own action.”
“You claim to sell as low as any one, don't you?”
“We do, and are ready to quote our prices so they can be compared
with others when called upon to do so. But we all cut occasionally for
reasons of our own, and I prefer to make prices when selling goods, not
after they are delivered. Some time ago you returned by express a few
trinkets. You knew that Mr. Goodnow would be at your place in a short
time, and you might easily have waited until seeing him before returning
the goods, but you evidently thought you were punishing us and showing
your grit by rushing them back by express. I assure you it does not add
to your reputation as a business man. I thought I would mention these
points to you because they are important in our relations, and unless
the men you buy from feel pleasantly towards you there is every reason
to suppose that you will be the loser.”
“I guess I can buy all the goods I want,” said Solomon; “I've not been
troubled that way yet.” And he walked off, with a surly “Good day.”
He had never bought but one bill of the other dry goods house, and did
not like their traveling man; but now he would have bought of Old Nick
rather than buy of Luce. He went over to Keeler's and again introduced
himself (the task was getting as disagreeable as it was monotonous),
saying he wanted to buy some goods. The gentleman made an excuse to
go to the desk for a moment, and Solomon knew it was to consult the
reference book as to his standing; having found that satisfactory he
proceeded to show him through the stock. The goods were not nearly
so much to his taste as was Luce's stock, but he bought lightly, and
considered that he was punishing Luce.
After dinner he called again at the hardware store, and this time found
Mr. Braun there. He was greeted cordially when he gave his name, but
imagine his feelings when, after a few remarks, Braun said: “What's the
matter with you people down at North Portage about axes? We wrote
you that four of the last six you returned were in no way covered by
warrants; some were broken in solid steel, some were ground thin and had
to bend, and one had never even been out of your store. We can't ask any
factory to take back such goods from us, it wouldn't be right; and we do
not make enough profit on a dozen axes to stand such a loss.”
“If you give a warrant you ought to stand up to it.”
“We do stand up to it, every time; and we do a good deal more than that.
But you do not stand up to it. You take back goods not covered by a
warrant and expect us to stand the loss.”
“Well, if my customers bring them back I must take them or lose their
trade.”
“That's your business, not mine. I don't care what you take back or do
not take, but I object to your taking them back and then shifting all
the burden over to us. We have charged your account with the cost of
making these axes good.”
“Well, that's the last time you'll ever have a chance to do that.”
“We can't help that; right is right. It's a small affair, but the thing
has to stop some time, and it had better be stopped now.”
Solomon pulled out his wallet, “How much is my balance here?”
Braun turned him over to the book-keeper, who took his money and gave
him a receipt. As he walked out he did not hear the remark of Braun to
the clerk: “He's one of those smart Alecks that have to be sat down on
occasionally, but I guess I gave him a lesson.”
He bought his hardware of another house; he bought his groceries of a
new firm; he didn't buy any boots and shoes at all, because the clerk
did not take hold of him just right, and he reached home the next
morning a tired, soured and disgusted man. He told his wife that he had
been a fool to spend money when he might have stayed at home and bought
of traveling men. “I tell you,” said he, “a man's a mighty sight more
independent when buying in his own store. The drummers are red hot for
orders, and you can squeeze them down. Then you've got your stock to
look at, and see costs, etc., and the men feel you're doing them a favor
to give them an order; but, by George, they think they're doing you a
favor to sell you in their own stores. I'm done going to town.”
I saw Mr. Smart a few weeks ago, and he gave me his report of his trip:
“I learned something,” he added; “I believe I can make more money by
having the wholesale houses my friends than I can by making them mad
at me, and now we get along first rate. I guess Luce is one of the best
friends I've got, but I was all-fired mad at him that time, I tell you.
And what made me the hottest was that I felt the old man was right.”