The Sale of Les Epinards.
I had noticed in a farm paper the advertisement of an auction sale of Percheron horses to be held at the farm of a breeder in an adjoining state. I slipped down there a few days before the date of sale, and picked out a nice looking, two-year-old stallion and on the day of sale bid $320 and the horse was sold to me. A pedigree was thrown in, but as it was written in the English language and the horse had a common, pronounceable name, I discarded it and christened him Les Epinards. At that time I didn’t know what Les Epinards meant, but remembered having seen it somewhere. I shipped him to a small town and started in to organize a company to buy him for $2,800. The pedigree proposition bothered me until I heard Billie was organizing a company in the next county. He very kindly lent me a pedigree that he had in his trunk which answered very well for Les Epinards. It was natural for me to say that the Epinards were celebrated breeders over in France who always named their horses after themselves. The name and the horse made a hit, and in six weeks’ time I had the signatures of ten farmers each for $280, four of them good, and the others just well enough known to the banker to cut down his discount 15 per cent. As it was a joint note, the banker realized in full and I came out of the sale in this fashion:
| Price to company | $2,800 | |
| EXPENSES | ||
| Paid for the horse | $320 | |
| Freight | 12 | |
| Bank discount | 420 | |
| Board | 60 | |
| Paid cappers | 150 | |
| Groom | 55 | |
| Feed | 18 | 1,035 |
| Profit | $1,765 | |
Now that’s what Tummy would call “financial acumen.” I bought a horse at an auction sale for $320, shipped him to another county in the same state and sold him for $2,800. It gradually dawned on me that there was more money in the selling than there was in the breeding and raising. Tummy was a wise boy, but I was beginning to learn a few things myself.
The same paper published the following, October 1, 1905:
The Sale of Transmigrator.
The easy money I made on the sale of Les Epinards as narrated in the last issue, emboldened me to try a new dodge. A fair was being held in Winnipeg. While there I fell in with a horse breeder who had a number of Percherons on his farm, some distance to the east of that town. At his invitation I visited the farm and was somewhat surprised at the prices he quoted for fine-looking stallions. One two-year-old of necessary size and shape he offered me for $300. It was not any part of my business to tell him who I was, and I am inclined to think he took me for a farmer from the states. In the horse peddling business the less people know about you the better and easier it is for the peddler, so I never corrected him. I bought the horse, imported him across the imaginary line dividing the two countries duty free by making affidavit he was to be used exclusively for breeding purposes and by satisfying the authorities with the pedigree furnished me by the Canadian that he was a pure-bred animal.
With the rich selected feed my groom knew how to mix, helped along with artistic grooming and care, Transmigrator—the name he was to be known by—waxed fat and sleek. I could truthfully say he was imported, but as he was a bit shy on prize winnings I could not harp much on that score. Blue ribbons were cheap, however, and when we decked him out with a supply of them, he looked as fit as the majority of horses I sold for certain importers. Inasmuch as his pedigree was written in English, and certified to by officials with easy names to pronounce, I resolved to give the company a bargain, and put his price at $2,500. I always did believe in being generous. I might just as easily have sold for $3,000, but I threw off $500 on account of the understandable pedigree.
The company which bought the horse came near going to pieces after I had secured the names of six farmers to the notes. A busybody in that community insisted on making me a cash offer of $1,000. Of course, there was no profit in that for me and I was perfectly right in refusing his offer. What’s the use of farmers being educated to the beauties of the company plan which benefits the bankers, the peddlers, the groom, and the cappers, if we are going to sell the horse direct for cash. It’s only the farmers that make the money by the cash or direct way of buying a stallion. I never met a peddler who was looking out for the farmers’ interests. They are in the business to improve the quality of horses and incidentally increase the size of their own bank rolls.
This reprobate even went so far as to actually buy a stallion from a breeder for $975, and I must confess he was a good judge, for he certainly got an excellent animal. My horse, however, had one advantage—he had a longer name and was imported. On two occasions I felt like quitting. Only four of the signers of the joint note could be trusted for a peanut, so the banker said, and he insisted on my getting two additional names acceptable to him. This was not an agreeable task, and I worked like a Trojan, persuading the members of the company that it was a more sensible thing to sign notes due in two years for $2,500 at only six per cent. interest rather than to pay $1,000 cash for a horse that possibly might die as soon as paid for. I will not repeat in cold print the arguments I used—they might be considered foolish by my readers. The fact remains, however, I did get six good names on that note and four fillers, making ten signers, who each agreed to pay me $250 for Transmigrator. They could have bought a better horse for $1,000 cash from breeders, within 100 miles. I made fair wages by the transaction, as may be seen from the following: