Part 28 (2/2)

And old Wimple carried home the chafing dish to his wife. That minx was certainly shrewd!

It had been a revelation to me to see how much easier it was to sell anything when you demonstrated the article in actual use. I planned to do more demonstration work in the store thereafter. Wilks.h.i.+re told me it was an excellent thing to demonstrate whenever one had an opportunity--”and,” said he, ”let the customer do the thing for himself wherever you can, and he'll feel so pleased with himself that he's pretty likely to buy.”

What was more to the point was that everybody in Farmdale had learned that Dawson Black stocked electrical supplies.

I mustn't forget about those seven store windows which I had hired and trimmed. It set the whole town talking; and the funny part of it was that many people seemed to think I was opening new stores all over the place. The first inkling I got of this was when Blickens, the president of the bank, dropped in, and said: ”Young man, what's this talk I hear about your opening new stores?”

I told him and that seemed to rea.s.sure him. ”Just the same,” he asked, ”that's pretty expensive, isn't it?”

”Well, if you call $20.00 expensive for two weeks' display in seven windows, yes, but I think it's remarkably cheap.”

”Do you mean to tell me that that's all it has cost you?”

”That's all.”

”Well, I congratulate you.” And he left the store. I think his opinion of me was a few notches higher.

Stigler opened up his new store on schedule time, and I had to admit that he had a splendid window display. He had hired a professional window trimmer from a Providence department store to come up and trim the windows for him, and he had done a swell job. He had the window full of all kinds of kitchen goods, everything ten cents. He even had a line of tin buckets, which I knew cost him more than that.

I was looking the place over from my own store--you know it was right next door to me,--I was out on the doorstep, looking at his window, when I saw Stigler walking toward the door. My first impulse was to turn away, but I realized that, if I did, he would think I was spying on him, so I held my ground.

”Well, Neighbor,” he said with his usual sneer, when he came outside, ”havin' a look at what a real store looks like for a change?”

Now, ordinarily my impulse would have been to get mad, but that time for some reason or other I didn't. Instead, I said calmly:

”I was just thinking, Friend Stigler, what a remarkable philanthropist you are.”

”Good value, eh?” he returned, sneeringly.

”Excellent,” I replied; ”in fact, I'm thinking of hiring a lot of women to go in and buy some of your things for ten cents and put 'em in my store to sell over for a quarter.”

I saw a shrewd expression pa.s.s over his face.

”Huh, if you'd only buy right, you could sell right yourself.”

”Exactly what I think,” I laughed. ”Say, Stigler, you make me smile. Do you think you'll be able to get away with that kind of stuff for long?

They'll come and buy your under-cost goods, but they won't buy the rest.”

Stigler turned sharply until he directly faced me. His features were distorted and twitching with rage and his face was pasty white. What he said would have cost him a big fine if he had been working for me! And I laughed in his face, and turned and walked away.

I learned something really valuable then. I learned that, by keeping my own temper, I made the other fellow lose his; and for the first time I realized that Stigler was probably more worried over my compet.i.tion than I was over his.

Somehow I had always had the idea that I was the one to do the worrying and not he, but from that time on I began to feel that it was the other way round. I remembered reading in a magazine a little article--I think it was by Elbert Hubbard--in which it was said that, when you're running a race, and are getting tired, don't get discouraged, because the other fellow is probably even more tired than you are. I believed it was the same in a business race, too.

One thing was certain. My big displays in the seven windows and my exhibition at the fair had thrown Stigler's opening into the shade. A number of people had come in to buy goods they'd seen displayed in the different windows--I had put different goods in each window so far as possible--and it had been good advertising--it had made people think of my store.

I dropped in to see Barlow and told him all about it, and he said, ”Good work--now go after his scalp good and hard. Drive on just as you are doing, push the better-cla.s.s merchandise, give people reasons why they should buy it, tell them how much cheaper it is in the end, and you'll win out.”

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