CHAPTER XV.
Selling Musical Instruments—Trickery and Deception—Looking for Something New—Selling the Roaster—The Canvass.
I got to selling pianos and organs by the merest chance.
I was canvassing with a furniture polish, which was really a very good thing, and one day went into a store where musical instruments were sold, hoping to do a stroke of business. I did, and a very good stroke of business I made of it.
The dealer had some talk with me, apparently liked my style, and finally offered me very good terms to work for him a scheme he had in view. He thought I knew enough about the instrument to handle pianos successfully in the way he proposed.
He had several Beatem pianos, which were listed at a high figure, but which he had obtained at a large discount. So far, he had been unable to sell them, and as he was well known he did not care to manage the fake he thought of suggesting to me. He offered to fix me up in style, and pay my expenses and big wages, if I would go to a city not far away, representing myself as from Beatem and attend to the disposing of a piano through the Woman’s charity organization of the town. I jumped at the chance, and went to Tirbyville, splendidly dressed and in every way well equipped for the scheme.
When the piano had come I called upon the president of the society and made known the fact that I was representing the Beatem Piano Company of New York; that their pianos were of the finest kind, and that the firm had adopted a new way of introducing them. Instead of paying big money to the newspaper men, I had instructions to give the benefit of all the profits to some charitable association; in fact, I was in town for the purpose of giving away some of them now. The instrument was here, on exhibition and trial, and what we wanted to do was to call attention to it. At the same time, of course, we were more than gratified at the chance of doing a little good. I wanted to advertise the pianos, not to sell them; and in order to hurry the affair through as quickly as possible, I was going to offer special inducements to those taking an interest in the matter.
I then stated that the instrument was worth eight hundred dollars, and the best way to determine its destination was to raffle it off at one dollar per chance. I would have eight hundred tickets printed, and the W. C. O. was to have twenty per cent. of the proceeds for managing the affair. As a still greater inducement for the ladies to assist in the scheme for getting the piano before the country, we intended to give a twenty-dollar gold piece to the lady who sold the greatest number of tickets, and ten dollars for the next.
I knew the scheme could not fail. The ladies took hold and worked like beavers, attending to the sale of the tickets, and likewise to the drawing. On my side I saw that an advertisement like this appeared in the regular reading matter of the local papers:
“The finest piano in the world.
“Tirbyville enjoys the reputation of having the finest amateur musical talent of any town in the state, and Beatem Bros. of New York have the reputation of making the best pianos in the United States.
“A representative of this firm is now in our city with one of their samples. In order to introduce their goods he will give away one of their superb instruments.
“It will be raffled off under the auspices of the Woman’s Charity Organization, the tickets selling for the nominal sum of one dollar.
“The piano is a gem, costing eight hundred dollars direct from the factory. It is now on exhibition at Kirby Bros.’ music store, where the musically inclined public is invited to call. Professor S. James Weldon will be there at all hours, ready to explain the merits of the piano, and our citizens will do well to call. The worthy charity organization reaps the benefit of the drawing, and we trust our citizens will liberally subscribe.”
It took about six weeks to work up this scheme, but it paid well. After deducting the twenty per cent. commission, prize money and personal expenses, I went away with about one hundred dollars profit for my employer, who at once sent me to another place to work the racket over again on the same lines.
I succeeded in exhausting his stock of Beatem pianos in this way, largely to his profit, and fairly to my own. When there were no more pianos he tried me on organs, and I remained with him quite a while.
Sometimes I disposed of the organs by the lottery scheme, and sometimes canvassed through the country to sell them outright. Either way I made money out of the proposition.
I remember that I once called on a farmer who, I knew, was a close buyer. He had two buxom daughters, who, besides feeding the chickens, milking the cows, and churning the butter, found time to play “Home, Sweet Home,” on the organ. They had none of their own, and wanted one awfully bad.
I exerted myself to the fullest to make the sale, but did not—until I was almost ready to throw up my hands.
As a last resort I succeeded by a bit of trickery. I took out a piece of paper and began figuring on it, remarking:
“Mr. Farmer, I am going to figure on the actual net manufacturer’s cost of this instrument, and then I may be able to make you another proposition.”
After figuring for a while I said:
“This organ never sold under one hundred and fifty dollars, but if you want it you can have it for one hundred and twelve dollars and forty-five cents. That is just about what it cost, but as I don’t want to take it back to town with me you can have it for that price. You consider the offer while I am out watering my team and when I come back give me your answer.”
With that I started for the door, carelessly thrusting the slip of paper into my pocket. Accidently (on purpose) it fell to the floor, and I went on without noticing it. Of course, he picked up the paper and looked it over, seeing that, according to my own figures, the organ cost just one hundred and five dollars and fifty cents.
Poor, unsuspecting man, when I came back, thinking he had the drop on me, he said:
“Say, young fellow, I’ll give you an even hundred dollars for that organ. What do you say?”
Of course, I hesitated and talked a lot, but finally gave in. The organ stood us, counting freight charges and all, an even eighty dollars.
The greatest objection I had to handling musical instruments was that the work was not sufficiently “rapid and devilish.” I think I rather preferred to handle organs, because I made more sales, even if the profits were so much less on three or four of them than on one piano. A hundred dollars coming at the end of three or four weeks was not as enticing as less money, coming by closer installments.
It was a money-maker for me, but I eventually grew tired of the business. There was too much hard work in handling those large, heavy organs, and besides the disadvantage of traveling in all kinds of weather and putting up with inferior accommodations in farm houses, made it more than unpleasant. I drove into town one day determined at least to take a little lay-off and figure on something that would be more to my liking—perhaps go back to street selling again.
It generally happened that when I quit one thing another showed up right at my hands. Probably it was because I was looking for it.
Quite accidentally I came across a canvasser. He actually tried to obtain my subscription to that, at one time, highly popular journal, The Weekly Rooster, and if I had not been too much in the same line myself I think he might have made it.
We had quite a talk about the paper, from his point of view, and I decided to try my hand at it, for a time at least.
I found more trouble in making arrangements than I had anticipated. I would have to be trusted to handle quite an amount of money, and the firm required a bond or strong references.
I had no references nor bondsmen whom I cared to give, but I ultimately arranged by putting up a cash deposit, and after quite a lengthy correspondence, during which I was several times tempted to throw up my hands, I secured sample copies and a certified subscription book and went to work.
The “Rooster” was a twenty page illustrated paper, the subscription price being six dollars, in advance, per year. As special inducements, fifty-two paper back novels—one with each issue of the paper—were offered, and a set of six cloth bound volumes. If preferred, however, they took installments of fifty cents per month, and that was the liberal proposition I principally worked on. Very little trickery was necessary to obtain orders.
For my “mark” I first selected a well-known individual, well up in public esteem; say, for instance, a merchant of high standing. Walking into his place of business I would say to one of the clerks near the door, “Is the proprietor in?”
“Yes, sir. Yonder is Mr. Denim.”
Agent (walking up to the proprietor).—“Pardon me, but are you Mr. Denim?”
Mr. D.—“That’s my name, sir.”
Agent.—“I am representing the Weekly Illustrated Rooster of New York and I want to put you down for a year’s subscription.”
Mr. D.—“Don’t want it. I’m taking too many papers now.”
Agent.—“Let me explain a little. The former manager of our paper died some months ago, and while the matter was kept up to its former high standard the business end was neglected, subscriptions expired without any effort to obtain renewals, and consequently half of our advertising got away from us. Now, a new man has taken hold, enlarged the paper, added new departments, and is offering special inducements in order to build up again. I am under contract to get seventeen thousand new subscribers in this state, and I’ll get them, if I have to give things away myself and be discharged for it.”
Mr. D. (growing interested).—“What sort of a paper is it?”
When you bring a man into the confidential history of a thing he at once begins to imagine that in some way he must belong to it.
Agent.—“It is a beautiful, clean, twenty paged paper, illustrated, and with sixteen departments. The news covers every form and condition of life, with accurate and thrilling pictures of the passing show. The bulk of the articles are of an editorial nature, being instructive, interesting and amusing. We have sixty-seven special correspondents in all parts of the world, who contribute regularly each week; and special articles are given from the best known pens in the universe. It is far above all contemporaneous sheets and costs no more.”
Mr. D.—“How much a year?”
Agent.—“Only six dollars.”
Mr. D.—“Isn’t that a little high?”
Agent.—“It might be considered so for the paper alone, but when you take into consideration the fact that we give with each yearly subscription the entire ‘Rooster Series’ of fifty-two novels, by all the standard authors, books which would cost you twenty-five to fifty cents at the regular news dealers, the price is reasonable enough, after all. Don’t you think so?”
Mr. D.—“I’ll admit that it is a nice offer, but I guess I’ll have to pass it by this time.”
Agent.—“You are one of the pillars of the town, and I hate to let such a good man go.”
Mr. D.—“There are plenty of good men here besides me.”
Agent.—“Yes, I know; but not the same, either. You are recognized as one of the leaders, and your name heading my list would give me a prestige.”
Mr. D. (smiling).—“How do you know I am one of the leaders?”
Agent.—“I was told so by another prominent citizen. I’ll tell you what I’ll do with you, Mr. Denim; I will give you free of charge a set of six elegant, cloth bound volumes, all standard works, if you will subscribe for the paper. Of course, this is a confidential proposition, for the sake of obtaining your influence and to have your name at the top of my list.”
Mr. D.—“All right, then. Put my name down.”
This little scheme of tickling a man’s vanity worked every time when the individual approached had any vanity at all to tickle. As I usually averaged ten subscribers every day my profits ought to have been highly satisfactory—and so they were for some months, and it was only when there was a change in the liberal policy of the Rooster, including the cutting down of commissions fifty per cent., and also taking away the premiums, that I thought it time to take hold of something else. By this time I had a fair little bank account.
I had acquired the taste of canvassing for reading matter, and from this on to reading matter I stuck, save at odd times when I picked up again almost any old thing and made it pay while I looked around and drew breath. I believe my next venture was in selling bibles, and I dropped into it while corresponding with eastern houses with a view to selling their books. While awaiting developments in that line this new one came to my hand.