CHAPTER XVII.
Adding to Bank Account—Looked Better, Felt Better and Was Better—Selling Encyclopedias—Complete Canvass—Tricky and Persistent—Advertising Schemes—Tricks of the Present Day—Disguises—How Different Business Men Were Worked—Strategy.
Having found a general line of books so profitable to handle, it might be supposed that I would have stuck to that, and not experimented with exclusive work in a single line. I reasoned, however, that a large commission, made just as easily and rapidly as a small one, was a great deal better for the bank account, and so I finally switched off from the general line to the selling of forty dollar encyclopedias. While engaged in this work I made better money, came in contact with a better class of customers, looked better, felt better and was better in bodily appearance and mental condition than I ever was before; and what was far better, I was able to put by and hold on to a far greater portion of my earnings.
In soliciting for encyclopedias I used a horse and carriage, and made a thorough, systematic canvass of every town visited. I first called on the ministers, then the other professional men, including the school teachers, winding up with all the business men that would or could buy.
This is my canvass, word for word, as it occurred. Walking into a store, I would say:
“Are you Mr. Rice?”
Mr. R.—“Yes, sir; that is my name.”
Agent.—“You are the proprietor, I believe?”
Mr. R.—“Yes, sir, I am.”
Agent.—“My name is Weldon; I am representing the Banner people of New York.”
Mr. R.—“In what line?”
Agent.—“Selling their new encyclopedias. I understand you are quite a reader, and I thought I would drop in and see if I could not interest you.”
Mr. R.—“Times are too hard to buy encyclopedias.”
Agent.—“Yes, I know times are hard.”
Mr. R.—“Besides, I am not fixed to take care of a set of that kind. I could not possibly afford it.”
Agent.—“Certainly, if you don’t want them I won’t insist, but—you know what they are, don’t you.”
Mr. R.—“Oh, I guess so.”
Agent.—“And if you had a set in your library you would certainly appreciate them, wouldn’t you?”
Mr. R.—“Of course, I would appreciate them, all right, but there is no use of talking. I can’t even think of buying them now.”
Agent.—“Suppose, Mr. Rice, that in the face of all your excuses, I should give you a chance to get a set for virtually nothing, do you think I could interest you? That is a pretty strong question, but I mean it, every word. I am getting all the best people in town, and I was told to call on you.”
Mr. R. (growing attentive).—“Why, of course, if they didn’t cost anything I would take a set. But I will bet you are not traveling over the country for your health.”
Agent.—“I do not mean that I will absolutely give a set away, but almost so. Give me half a chance and I’ll make you an offer that will do your soul good.”
Mr. R.—“What is your proposition?”
Agent.—“I want to explain a little before I make my proposition. You see, this is a new edition of Banner’s, brought right up-to-date. The company advertised extensively and, figuring on doing a big business, got out seventy thousand sets. This late financial crash happened, and it came near knocking us clear out. It don’t pay to keep the stock on hand, and pay taxes and insurance, so we are going to try and force them out, quick and cheap. Now, I’ll tell you what we are going to do. The regular price of a set is seventy-two dollars, but we have cut that right in two, making it thirty-six. If you order you get the complete set at once, free of expressage, and only have to pay fifty cents a week on them until they are paid for, nothing in advance, and no interest. If that is not almost giving them away I don’t know what is.”
Mr. R.—“I’ll admit that is a fair proposition, but I don’t think I can accept it today.”
Agent.—“It is a good idea for a man to be conservative, but sometimes it is policy to deviate from the regular rule. If you will sift this offer down to a fine point, take every particle of it into consideration, and compare these books with other encyclopedias, you will acknowledge yourself that even if things are not just exactly as you would like to have them, it is worth while taking hold of anyway.”
Mr. R.—“Why do you claim that?”
Agent.—“For various reasons. In the first place, the total cost for so good an article don’t amount to a hill of beans. Even if you paid it all down at once you wouldn’t feel it, let alone paying for it in such little dribs. It is virtually nothing.”
Mr. R.—“Yes, but I have too many of these little dribs.”
Agent.—“I don’t care how dull times are, how economical a man is, how many irons he has in the fire, or how many obligations he has on hand, there are always little incidental expenses during the month that are met without a murmur.”
Mr. R.—“Even if I bought the books I would still have those outlays.”
Agent.—“You are right, but I want to ask you one question. You make up your mind now to practice economy. If you were walking down the street and felt like drinking a glass of lemonade or smoking a cigar wouldn’t you go right in and spend ten or fifteen cents for the luxury?”
Mr. R.—“Yes, certainly, if I felt like it.”
Agent.—“You play billiards and pool occasionally, do you not?”
Mr. R.—“Yes, frequently.”
Agent.—“And you sometimes lose the game—one can’t always win?”
Mr. R.—“I am no expert; I often lose.”
Agent.—“If some ladies were to come in here now, soliciting for a church charity, you would dig up a couple of dollars without a struggle, wouldn’t you?”
Mr. R.—“Yes, but it’s policy to do that.”
Agent.—“So I acknowledge, but I am just illustrating how money goes. If you felt like dropping in at the theatre you wouldn’t stay away because business was a little slack. You would take your wife and go to the play and enjoy the evening, wouldn’t you?”
Mr. R.—“I do that frequently, but, then, one must have a little diversion.”
Agent.—“That is what I mean by incidental expenses—little matters which bob up without a word of warning. We feel called upon to meet them whether business is good or bad, and in the long run scarcely miss what they have cost. In fact, we don’t allow them to bother us. Now, look at this. Here is something you can be proud to have in your home. Your entire family will enjoy and appreciate it, and it will be a fine addition to your library, which would really be incomplete without it. Consider my proposition critically. You will hardly miss the fifty cents, and before you know it the books will be all paid for. It is the prettiest offer ever made.”
Mr. R.—“Oh, I know that, but I hate to obligate myself now.”
Agent.—“Why, sir, it’s too little a venture to be afraid of. Think of what you are getting, and how you are getting it. It is just like going to the dentist to have your teeth filled. You dread the idea of sitting in the chair, but when it is all over you are awfully glad you have had it done. So with this encyclopedia. When you once get it, and have seen its full merits, you will wonder why you ever hesitated.”
Mr. R.—“But I really have no time to read.”
Agent.—“My dear sir, an encyclopedia is not made to be read like a newspaper or a novel. Its value is as a book for reference. If you have occasion to look at them only once a month it will be worth all the price you pay for it.”
Mr. R.—“Come to think of it, a friend of mine has a set. I can use his when I need them.”
Agent.—“But that is not like having a set of your own. For that matter, you could ask your neighbor to show you his clock, so you could see what time it was; but that is not like owning a clock. You could also borrow your neighbor’s newspaper, but it is not always wise nor convenient to do these things. You cannot always have them when you want them most. Take, for instance, a cold, wet, wintry night, and you at home by a nice, good fire, with wife and children gathered around you. Would you care to leave this cozy room and go out into the stormy night to your neighbor’s library?”
Mr. R.—“Well, no. I guess I will speak to my wife and let you know this afternoon.”
Agent.—“Mr. Rice, that is not business. You know your wife would like the books, and you also know you do not want to be bothered again. Your time is too precious, and so is mine. You can tell me right now as well as this afternoon.”
Mr. R.—“I want the volumes bad enough, but I must have time to consider.”
Agent.—“In order to make you safe I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I will send them to you with the distinct understanding that if your wife don’t appreciate them you can have them for nothing. Is not that fair?”
Mr. R.—“That is fair enough—can’t you come again?”
Agent.—“I just want to show you the advantages of this offer and then I’ll go. In the first place, take the Blewtanical encyclopedia. It costs from seventy-five to one hundred and fifty dollars. Dippleton’s costs from seventy-five to ninety-five, and Judson’s, eight volumes, costs fifty-six dollars. The Monarch, in six volumes, costs sixty dollars; and the Mercury, in nine volumes, forty dollars; while the Peerless, the smallest standard encyclopedia, and only in three volumes, costs thirty-eight dollars. Now, mine is in twelve large volumes. It is four years later than any of the others, has all their merits, and more new features than all the rest put together. It is recognized as the standard edition all over the world, and I am offering it to you for less money than you can buy the cheapest of the others, and on such terms that you cannot afford to miss the chance.”
Mr. R.—“But are not the others just as good?”
Agent.—“Perhaps—as far as they go. I am not running them down, understand. One of our greatest presidents was once addressing a literary society on the subject of books. Speaking of this class, he said there were no words strong enough to tell the merits of a good encyclopedia. Of course, if you bought any of those other editions, you would be getting good books, but they are a few years behind and cost so much more money. It is just like putting six coats of paint on a house when two will answer the same purpose.”
Mr. R.—“How is it you can sell yours so much cheaper than the others?”
Agent.—“Because we are satisfied with larger sales and smaller profits. Our work is in no way inferior to the others; in fact, all authorities consider it superior, and my terms are so reasonable.”
Mr. R.—“I should think you were taking big chances.”
Agent.—“That is the very reason we interview reliable parties only. Formerly, when one bought an encyclopedia, paying a fancy price for it, he would have to give a mortgage on house, business, wife, children and almost everything he possessed. He’d have to sign promissory notes with a judgment clause, and you know what that means. He would have to pay ten per cent. interest, pay for expressage, and receive only one volume at a time. Under this proposition you don’t sign notes, you pay no interest, no expressage, make no advance payments, give no security, and get the complete set of twelve volumes at one time.”
Mr. R.—“How do I know that you are telling the truth?”
Agent.—“I am surprised at that question. Don’t the thing look fair, right on the face of it? I offer to ship you a complete set, free of charge, and then give you one whole year in which to pay for them. Just think, my dear sir, could I afford to make misrepresentations on these conditions? You are a business man, and so am I. Do you think I’d sell you one thing and ship you another?”
Mr. R.—“And you say it is a very late edition?”
Agent.—“Yes, sir, modernized and right up to date.”
“Mr. R.—“Any maps?”
Agent.—“Certainly, sir. One hundred and nineteen maps, 13,000 illustrations, 17,000 pages, 57,000 separate and distinct subjects, 16,000,000 words, and an atlas department which represents every country in the known world. This department, by the way, is more extensive than any single atlas. It takes you into every spot on the face of the earth, from the diamond fields of Africa to the orange groves of Florida. It also gives a biographical sketch of all the notables of the various nations, something no ordinary atlas does. The whole encyclopedia is complete in every department. It gives the origin of every language, the history of the world’s religious and political developments, origin and growth of secret societies, manners and customs of all nations, treats broadly of architecture, mechanism, arts and science, taking you into a thousand channels heretofore unheard of. The illustrations are the great drawing card. In the department of mechanics, for instance, if you read the description of an article and do not understand it, you could turn to the illustration and see it, plain as daylight. Besides all these features it has an extra department, giving all the speeches made by our leading politicians during the late campaign.”
Mr. R. (jokingly).—“But I can’t read.”
Agent.—“You don’t have to, Mr. Rice. This is the parrot edition. Just open one of the volumes and it speaks for itself.”
Mr. R.—“I have a dictionary. I think I can make that do.”
Agent.—“For heaven’s sake, man, don’t compare an encyclopedia to a dictionary. One is a collection of words only; the other a complete compendium of subjects. In fact, the encyclopedia is both, combined in one. A dictionary gives you no information except on single words. There is absolutely no comparison.”
Mr. R.—“But I never take time to read.”
Agent.—“You can’t make me believe that. The life and push of our country come from men who read. The hustlers who get to the front are men who read, and all solid business men are well posted. Now, you are one of the solid business men of the town, and I know you could not be where you are unless you were well informed. I can tell the educated man the moment I see him.”
Mr. R.—“You are getting along too fast. I don’t pose for an educated man.”
Agent.—“I should hate to call you a prevaricator, but they say around here that you are a great bookworm, and where there is smoke there is sure to be a little fire.”
Mr. R. (feeling complimented).—“How are your books bound?”
Agent.—“In fine Russia leather, gilt-edged. They are designed for first-class libraries only.”
Mr. R.—“And the collections?”
Agent.—“You can remit through the banks. The First National will be our agent here.”
Mr. R.—“Shall I remit weekly?”
Agent.—“Oh, you can drop your fifty cents in a cigar box and send it in once a month. With business men like you that is all right.”
Mr. R.—“Well, I might as well take a set now and be done with it. I see you will stick to me like a porous plaster to a lame back until I do.”
If I had gone through the entire argument after this fashion with every purchaser I would not be alive now. Thank goodness, they were not all quite so hard on a fellow as Mr. Rice; and yet, when I began canvassing in the book business, do you know who I practiced on? The toughest customer I could find, one who was able to buy, but from whom I felt certain I would not get a red cent.
I would argue on the good points of the work I was selling, and do all in my power to get an order, even though nine times out of ten I failed. Of course, when I got through I was terribly wound up, but I knew that my time had not been lost. I found out the weak points of my argument, and on the second customer I could correct my errors. I would keep this up for several days. It gave me good, practical experience, and in a short time I had a canvass strong enough to face anybody, and success followed me like a tramp does the odor of a good dinner.
I found that it paid to advertise. On coming into a town I would visit the newspaper offices and pay for little personal paragraphs, announcing my arrival and stating my business. This served to introduce me. By reading the following samples you will see that I desired to impress the people with the belief that I was a man of great importance, and I generally succeeded. The Stormville Banner, for instance, would say:
“Mr. S. J. Weldon, representing prominent publishing houses in New York, is in the city, having arrived last night. During his stay he will endeavor to interest the literary people of Stormville by introducing the latest edition of Banner’s encyclopedia, of which 70,000 copies have been sold. He makes a most novel proposition, and ought to be well received and do a flourishing business. Mr. Weldon bears the enviable reputation of being the most successful agent in his line in the United States and Canada, his sales so far this year footing up to the enormous sum of over five thousand sets.”
Here is another:
“Prof. S. J. Weldon, the gentleman who is with us this week selling Banner’s encyclopedia, recently wagered one hundred dollars with a gentleman of Hilt City, which town is twice as large as ours, and where he sold seventy sets, that he would be equally successful in Stormville. Which will win the wager? That depends on which of the two towns prove the more appreciative.”
This advertisement I used when I came across two rival towns. It worked up a patriotic excitement and assisted greatly in making sales. Another effective article read as follows:
“Prof. S. James Weldon, president of one of New York’s largest literary clubs, arrived in the city last evening. He furnishes the new edition of Banner’s encyclopedia and will call on our professional and business men in the interests of that magnificent work. Afterwards he will organize here a branch club of his parent society, the object being educational advancement and social intercourse. Gold prizes will be given the members making the best progress, and twice a year the local assembly will be represented at the grand lodge by two delegates. Once a year the grand lodge takes a tour around the world. Prof. Weldon was one of the party the last trip, and says they were royally entertained by their foreign friends. He will, in a few days, call a private meeting of our leading citizens and address them in the interest of the enterprise.” This ad. always gave me a wonderful prestige.
At the present day the publishers take a larger hand in scheming than formerly, yet the principal methods remain much the same. For instance. Books are advertised at a high price, but at the same time an offer is made to place a few sets with certain leading citizens at a greatly reduced figure. No information is given in regard to terms, but prospective purchasers are invited to write for particulars. Those letters of inquiry are sent to agents traveling for the house, and one of them drops into the town and tells Mr. Customer that he has made a special trip from New York or Chicago to see him personally. In the interview the agent brings all his batteries to bear; broadsides, mostly loaded with flattery, are poured into the victim’s ear, and generally a sale is landed. The neatest dodge I have ever seen is one originated by a Chicago firm. Coupons are given to the amount of the purchase, which are good at certain stores for ten per cent. of the price of any article purchased there, such an arrangement having been made with the merchants who are in the field to draw custom. If a man buys a fifty dollar set of books the company gives him fifty dollars worth of coupons. He buys, say five dollars worth of goods. He would pay four dollars and fifty cents in cash and fifty cents in coupons, thereby in the end virtually getting his books free. If the merchant would stand that the customer surely could.
Canvassing in the larger cities is very hard work, more so than in the smaller towns. So many of the office buildings have a sign hung up like the following:
“No Agents or Canvassers Allowed.”
I have worked such places in the garb of an express messenger, and though the janitor may have suspected my visits were unduly long he gave me no trouble. I have used the clerical uniform, both in such places and in small towns, with good effect. When I visited a town that was a railroad division point the garb of a railroad man suited me to a charm. I would pose as an eastern railroader on a lay-off, making a tour of the country and canvassing to help out.
In working the smaller towns I found that a rumor circulated to the effect that I was a foreign detective on the trail of some noted criminal was of great assistance. It would work a sort of undercurrent in my favor and give me prestige with a customer I otherwise could not get. It was really amusing at times to watch the crowds whispering to each other and sizing me up as I walked down the street. The thought of having a real live detective in their midst would always arouse their curiosity.
Thus, in selling books, and especially encyclopedias, I varied my canvass to suit my respective locations.
I found that I had to be constantly on the watch to adapt the method of my approach to the nature of the individual. One man had to be taken by storm; another would surrender only after the slow process of a long continued siege. With some I made a strong argument upon subjects with which they were not supposed to be intimately acquainted; with others I had to call attention to the very points which they oftenest touched in their every-day life. With lawyers I had to confine my remarks a great deal to legal questions and debates; with doctors, to medicine and surgery; with ministers, to theology and the sciences and it was generally safe to ply a school teacher with such things as art, poetry and the classics, or a newspaper man with matters of general information. For merchants I had a little song about free trade or tariff, income taxes, imports and exports, the price of grain and the like, and to mechanics, blacksmiths and builders I talked of machines and materials. Again, there were others who seemed to want to get away as far as possible from the grooves in which their own lives were running, and these people I had at a decided disadvantage unless their range of reading was a great deal wider than that of the average of their class.
Here is an instance of my manner of approaching customers:
I would walk rapidly into a man’s office, as though it was the place I had been looking for all the time. I would state that I was directed to him as a gentleman well versed in literature and learning, and as that sort of sympathy was what I desired to meet in my business I thought I would run in as I was passing by, see him, introduce myself, and promise him a call by and by. Then I would start for the door, but stop as I turned the knob, make some suggestion in regard to his being considered authority on literature, start for the door again, and draw him into questioning me, asking me of what books I was speaking, and the like. Then I was safe. If I could get a man who was able to purchase to ask me questions, and then listen to what I had to say, I was reasonably certain of a sale.
A man who can buy, and won’t buy, is like the bird that can sing and won’t sing. If you can once get him interested, and continue the argument without in any way exciting his anger, he can be made to buy. In handling a hard customer I found it a good plan sometimes to continue talking, without giving him much chance to say a word. I paid no attention to the objections he offered, knowing that in most cases they were of no weight with him, but only made as a pretext to get rid of me. I just kept on with my argument, and pretty soon he would be apt to come to time and think perhaps I was talking sense after all. If I felt him slipping through my fingers I talked all the harder, until, perhaps, the man would give me an order for the sake of my pure audacity and to get rid of me.
Sensitiveness was a quality I absolutely discarded, substituting what some people would call cheek and gall of the purest and most unadulterated grade.
Did I always make people buy? Well, not always; but with fair subjects at least two out of ten would succumb, and in the encyclopedia business that would mean big money for a working day.
As a rule, a man is less easy to sell to than a woman. A woman is more accustomed to buying just as she has the money and opportunity. A man usually makes up his mind in advance, goes at his leisure to some local merchant and makes his deliberate selection. An agent drops in on him when all thought of making a purchase is far from him. There’s the rub. I might have to go around such a man cautiously for half an hour to get him interested.
To do so successfully his curiosity must be aroused and his attention fixed. I would ask him if he had ever heard such and such a passage in a certain story. Then I would quote some very beautiful and touching extracts, or comical ones, which would make him laugh. In some way I started him in a desire to see the books. Then I was safe.
Perhaps the most pitching part of all my arguments was where I used flattery. If given in the right place and in the proper proportions, like the axe and the chicken, it always reached the neck.
It is not always easy for an agent or canvasser to gain an entrance to a private house, unless he uses some trick or wile to fit the occasion. Usually I found it the best plan to leave a sample volume at my first call, never offering to go beyond the door, and stating to the lady that it was for her husband to look at, but it would be a gratification if she would examine it herself. If the book excites the least interest the way will be opened for a subsequent call. I have appeared at the door, when my ring was answered, as just drawing a big bunch of letters from my pocket. Accidently dropping two or three of them on the porch, I would politely ask the lady of the house if I could not assort them on a table. Believing that I had one for her she would invite me in. I was the inventor, I believe, of the envelope addressed to “the lady of the house,” but I always had my little sample package, or nicely printed table of contents, addressed to the lady personally. Having gained an entrance, I presented this and then stated my business, finding little trouble in securing an audience.
Once, when I was trying to sell some books to a man, I had him interested, as I thought, but could not close the deal. While talking to him he pulled out his pipe and prepared for a smoke. Taking a cigar from my pocket I said, “My friend, try a twenty-five cent cigar.”
The thought of smoking a twenty-five cent cigar pleased him. He took it with a smile; the weed did the work; I got the order. After that I always carried a few good cigars in my pocket.
Another time I remember going into a place of business and telling the proprietor I had just come from Hartsburg, his former home—I posted myself on the points before calling—and that while there I had met General Ball, who sent his regards. He had requested me to call and show his old friend what I had so interested the people of Hartsburg. In fact, he had given me a note of introduction—here I fumbled unsuccessfully in my pocket—but it seemed to have been mislaid, over which I appeared to be very much distressed. But I went through my canvass all right. I had gained the man’s attention and sold him a set of encyclopedias.
A great many of the people would put me off until I came around again. With a general line of books I could use the closing out racket or the fire sale dodge. With encyclopedias I had a different story, explaining, perhaps, that this would be my last trip under present conditions. Before I could come again the international copyright law would go into effect. The last congress had passed a law whereby a copyright in another country held good in this, and when the law began to operate there would be a cash royalty of sixty per cent. to be paid on all copyrighted works. We had thirty thousand sets on hand and to avoid this large outlay on royalty we were going to unload a large portion at the mere cost of production, and by taking advantage of my offer now there would be a saving of one hundred per cent. This was always safe, because the international copyright law has been talked of for a hundred years, and today not one man in a thousand has any accurate knowledge of what the law amounts to, or how it affects the publishing business.
Alertness once got me an order for the most expensive and finest edition of the Banner encyclopedia. I approached a Mexican gentleman of education and wealth, but his manner was such that I had little hope. Incidentally, I asked his name. It happened to be the same as that of a noble Mexican general, whose biography was given in the book. I called his attention to the fact, and suggested that they were branches from the same family tree. Perhaps they were. At any rate he thought so and ordered a set with an eye to having the recorded history of his genealogy. So much for knowing what was in the books I sold.