MEETING PROF. CARTER—THE MUSIC SCHEME—FLOWERS AND NOVELTIES—THE
LADIES—THE SOAP RACKET—STREET GAGS AND JOKES—THE SINKING VESSEL.
I did not allow myself to be troubled over the disappearance of the
other members of the Milton Combination. In such an affair every tub has
to stand on its own bottom, and I had no visible baggage which the hall
owner could attach, or any irate landlord claim as his own until all
scores were paid.
I went around to the hotel and coolly informed the proprietor that the
manager and his partner had skipped, leaving my salary unpaid, but that,
fortunately, I had enough to settle my own modest bill for the night,
and that if he chose I would pay it then and there. Despite his ill
humor over the loss of a few dollars, I think I must have succeeded in
arousing his sympathy, for he touched my purse but lightly, and treated
me pleasantly enough.
It is quite possible I would have gone with the rest of the Combination,
or started out on a moon-light journey by myself, had it not been that I
wanted to see more of that fakir. I knew now that he was stopping at the
same hotel, and thought I recognized in him a kindred spirit, with whom
it might be well to confer. He came in half an hour or so after I did,
and, being in high good humor over his evening’s work, I did not find
him at all hard to approach.
Of course, at the outset, I was cautious about letting him see my
motive, and I opened the conversation by saying in a jocular manner that
I had to thank him for breaking up our show. The people were not going
to pay to see it when they could get something as good or better outside
for nothing.
“See here, pard, you don’t mean to say you’re in earnest? I’m business
to the hub, you understand; but I meant just what I told them over there
when I said I wouldn’t make a sale after you began. How hard are you up
against it? I’m willing to make a fair divvy.”
He put his hand in his pocket as he spoke, and I guess he actually meant
it.
I told him I was all right and that he needed to feel no concern. I had
been opposed to the venture here from the start, and was not at all
averse to a separation from my companions, as I was about tired of the
show business, anyhow.
I answered some questions which he asked; and then, in turn, grew a
little inquisitive. By this time we had got back in the corner, with no
one to hear us if we talked in a moderate tone, and he spoke very
freely.
He admitted that he had made a very fair evening’s work of it. The pens
he sold at twenty-five cents a dozen cost him thirty-five a gross, and
the boxes and penholders were not sufficiently expensive to make a very
large hole in his profits. He thought perhaps he would remain in the
place at least for another day. “The pen business,” he said, “is only a
side line, to work in the evenings, and I haven’t covered the town yet
in my canvass.”
“Then you don’t confine yourself to the sale of pens?” I asked. I had
supposed the profits of the evening were sufficient to satisfy almost
any man.
“Not by a jug full,” he answered; “you’ve only got one life at your
finger ends, and if you want them to stick fast to much of anything
you’ve got to keep moving. And then, you’re liable at any moment to
strike a town that has been worked on some particular racket, and you’ve
got to have another up your sleeve. I have half a dozen of them. If a
place isn’t ripe for one, another is sure to win.”
“Good! You are just the man I have been wanting to see. Don’t you need
an apprentice? I have never done much open-air talking to a crowd, but I
have always had an idea that I would be great at something of that
kind.”
My blunt proposition took him somewhat aback; but he saw that I was in
earnest, and looked me over.
“My friend, you appear as though you might be cut out for a business
man. I don’t, as a rule, need any help, but if you have a little money,
and think I can do you any good, I don’t mind giving you a start. I
can’t do anything with you in this town, though. You have given them all
an idea of what your line of business is, and for the present couldn’t
change the opinion. You couldn’t give away a box of pens and throw in a
dime. You’ll have to wait till we get to the next place. Then you’ll
find out pretty quick what you are good for.”
I was well enough satisfied with this, as the night before our haystack
had been uncomfortable, and I had a feeling that I not only wanted a
good night’s rest, but that I had earned it, and the following day I
rested, accordingly.
“Do you know anything about music?” my companion asked, as we prepared
to leave the place.
I answered that I did; that I had some knowledge of notes, was
particularly apt at catching up a tune by ear, and even had a smattering
knowledge of the piano and violin.
“Good. All that won’t hurt you just now. I have been working the cheap
music racket by daylight, and it has not turned out so badly. I expect
to do a bigger business in the next place, though, and I’ll work it in a
different way. My pens are all sold out, and I’ll have no side lines to
sell till I meet my next lot.”
At that I asked him some questions about the music business, and he
briefly explained.
In these degenerate days music, like everything else, has become cheap.
In the times I am speaking of sheet music commanded a pretty stiff price
at retail; and if we could only sell enough of it there was a chance for
an enormous profit, even when sold away below regular rates, and there
were chances to buy at wholesale “cheap” sheet music which cost but a
song.
All this my companion, whose name was Carter, explained as we went
along. There was really so little of a “fake” about what he proposed to
do that I hardly believed he would have the success he seemed to
anticipate.
Nevertheless, it all worked to a charm. The town selected was just large
enough to have a number of amateur pianists and vocalists, and not
sufficiently extensive for a store which kept sheet music in any great
quantity.
There was a piano in the parlor of the hotel where we opened up, and
almost the first act of Carter was to thump it vigorously, and after
what looked to be quite an artistic fashion. He had me plaster the town
with bills and posters which we found there in a bundle awaiting us,
announcing the presence of Prof. Carter and an immense stock of the most
popular and fashionable music, which, in consequence of business affairs
calling him to the east, he would sell on the easiest terms. Music for
which the stores usually charged from thirty-five cents to several
dollars he would sell at from fifteen up to seventy-five cents. And he
had a list of the very choicest selections, which would be sold even
lower. The names of the most classical and popular pieces were given,
and it was also announced that the Professor could be consulted on
musical matters, and the choice of pieces for consecutive practice,
during his short stay.
For the first few days the ladies came flocking in, and usually bought
from three to six pieces. Sometimes we sold as high as ten selections to
one lady.
I soon saw that “The Professor” had a fair knowledge of his business,
although, no doubt, his musical acquirements were somewhat superficial.
The advice he gave gratuitously was sometimes equal to a high-priced
lesson, and I wondered why he did not make an effort to follow the
profession after a legitimate and exclusive manner. But he would not
have been a fakir had he done that; and I confess he was one of the best
all-round men I ever saw.
While he had a fair stock of the popular, catchy songs of the day, I
noticed the price of it was the nearest to that marked by the
publishers; while his greatest efforts to sell were made along the lines
of “classical gems,” and easy selections, which he would rapidly arrange
together as a graduated system of practice. These pieces cost him the
least of any in the lot. He could generally gauge pretty accurately the
musical acquirements of a lady, and once she entered into conversation
with him he was pretty sure to sell, not only the one piece she had
thought of buying, but half a dozen or more.
I was of some slight assistance in the music deal, but the part I had to
play related to something else, of which, in the start, I knew little or
nothing, but under the rapid instructions of the Professor I soon
comprehended sufficiently to elicit his strong approval.
He had along with the music a nice little line of fancy feathers,
flowers and other little novelties, which he placed in my charge, and
though I had never handled such things before, it is an actual fact that
the end of the first day found me talking as glibly about them as any
milliner in the land. When the last customer had departed Carter turned
to me and observed:
“No use, Jim, you’ve got it in you, and you’ll never be anything else.”
“Else than what?” I inquired.
“A fakir. Anyone who can talk up female fixtures and furbelows as you
have done, without knowing any more about them than you do, and never
make a break, is bound to scratch his mark. From the way you manipulate
the dainty things you might have the touch for a slight-of-hand
performer and magician, but with that smooth tongue of yours I fancy you
have chosen about right.”
I suppose I blushed at his praise, but tried to take it as a matter of
course, and asked what he would have done if customers had refused to
call.
“Oh, called on them, if I thought the town was worth the working.
Otherwise, I would have shifted my base and tried something else. A man
should always try to have a little money where he can get hold of it in
case of need, and keep a dodge or two ahead of his customers, so that if
one fails to work he’ll have another to bring on.”
“But no dodge ought to fail,” I put in. “If you have the thing the
people want they are bound to buy it; and if they don’t want it now,
make them want it by the time you get through. That is my idea of the
business.”
“And a very good one it is; only, sometimes, receipts don’t balance
expenditures, and then it is about time to quit and try something else.
I can talk as well as the next, but I have an occasional failure myself.
It looks as though business would last here for several days yet. By
that time we will be pretty well out of sorts, and I’ve a nice stock of
soap coming for the next stand. If you want to try your hand I’ll let
you do the talking, and see what you can do with it.”
The professor was right in his predictions. The ladies who patronized us
the first day sent others on the second, and returned themselves on the
third. When we left, it was with the good will of the entire community,
and no inconsiderable quantity of their coin.
When Professor Carter changed from music and millinery to soap he did
not think it at all necessary to change his name at the same time.
Indeed, his name was on the packages, and the article he put out was a
successful curiosity. By the time we got to work he had drilled me
thoroughly on its history and merits.
It was known as Doctor Carter’s Peerless Soap-salve. It could be used
for either a soap or a salve; the total cost of manufacturing it,
without wrappers, was less than five cents a cake. I know that it sold
freely at twenty-five.
We had a little preliminary practice before reaching the town which was
to be the scene of operations, and I appeared before the crowd confident
in my ability, and anxious to test the glibness of my tongue. The doctor
had given me the patter he usually employed, and of course I expected to
use it as an outline, subject to alteration as occasion permitted or
required. He carried a violin, and it did not take long to draw a crowd.
There was, of course, no haste in getting to the sales. I began by
telling what the soap-salve was good for. I gave them a little
historical lecture on all soap in general, and this soap in particular.
Finally, to illustrate how far a small portion would go, I took a large
sponge, which had been passed around for examination. As the doctor
handed it to me he concealed in it a cake of soap. From another cake I
had made a few shavings, and having poured a little water over the
sponge the amount of lather I made appear from those shavings was a
caution; and the crowd was about in shape to appreciate the story I then
told, which was about as follows:
“More than that, gentlemen and ladies—for I see there are a few of the
latter in the audience, and I wish there were more—I want to tell you
how the lives of four hundred people were, on a memorable occasion,
saved by this very identical soap.
“I was on a large steamship, on my way to England. Upon a beautiful
morning, when the sun had been shining brightly in the heavens, and
dancing in great waves over the white-crested billows, peace and harmony
and happiness prevailing among the passengers, a sudden and severe wind
storm came up. Black clouds overcast the sky, and the wind blew so
strong that the huge vessel was tossed about as though a mere toy.
“Every one on board became excited. Women screamed and fainted. Down in
the cabin a group was gathered to pray for safe deliverance from the
wrath of the hurricane. We were doomed. In a few moments the vessel ran
upon hidden rocks, the boilers exploded, and our ship was on fire.
“There we were, on a burning vessel, stranded upon the rocks, and far,
far from shore. Death and a watery grave stared us in the face. Can you
imagine our despair?
“No time was to be lost. We must act, and act quickly. The life boats
were lowered; but they could not hold all the passengers, so that we had
to shift as best we could. I helped the women, and some of the men, into
the boats, and then found, to my horror, there was no room for me.
“I picked up my valise, which was filled with this soap, grabbed the
gang-plank of the vessel, and jumped into the ocean.
“My valise had no sooner struck the water than the soap began to foam.
The bubbles grew, and kept increasing in size until they resembled a
mountain of snow. Would you believe it? Every one of those four hundred
heart-broken passengers jumped on that huge lump of lather and floated
safely to shore.
“Now, my friends, was not that wonderful? So happy were they all when
they landed that they chipped in a dollar each, every man ordering a
cake sent to his address as soon as I could receive a fresh supply to
replace that lost in their salvation.
“But tonight, my friends, I am not going to charge you a dollar a cake.
You have not yet been ship-wrecked, though it is as well for you to
prepare. Twenty-five cents is all that I shall ask you, and then you
will be ready for the direst extremity and the darkest emergency.
“Now, then, who takes the first cake?”
“You do,” shouted a voice from the crowd, and the laugh was on me.
Nevertheless, I accepted the turn so readily, and put it aside so
neatly, that it was all the better, since I had the crowd with me.
Before the evening was over the stock was sold out slick and clean.
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