I went around to Thompson's store and asked him if he'd give me
work--for Thompson, in the Daily Roar, was advertising for a clerk. He
looked me over long and well, and then enquired: "What can you do? Do
you in anything excel? If you've strong points, just name a few." His
manner dashed my sunny smile, I seemed to feel my courage fall; I had
to ponder for a while my strongest features to recall.
"Well, I a motor boat can sail, and I a 4-horse team can tool; and I
can tell a funny tale and play a splendid game of pool. I'm good at
going into debt and counting chicks before they hatch, and I can roll a
cigarette or referee a wrestling match.
"There was a time," the merchant said, "when qualities like those were
fine; alas, those good old days are dead! The mixer's fallen out of
line! The business houses turn him down, and customers no longer sigh
for one to show them through the town, and open pints of Extra Dry!
The salesman of these modern days must study things he wants to sell,
instead of haunting Great White Ways and painting cities wildly well.
He must be sober as a judge, he must be genial and polite, from
virtue's path he'll never budge, he'll keep his record snowy white.
Into the world of commerce go and mark the ways of business men; forget
the list of things you know and then come here and try again."
In his remarks there was no bile; with sympathy he gently laughed, and
dropped me, with a kindly smile, adown the elevator shaft.