"Well, that was a clever sale," said the hat man, "but you have, you know, as much trouble sometimes holding an old customer in line as you do in selling a new one. For my own part, whenever a customer gets clear off the hook, I let him swim. You have a great deal better luck casting your fly for new fish than you do in throwing your bait for one that has got away from you. My rule is, when a man is gone—let him go. But, as long as I have him on the hook, I am going to play him.
"When I was down in New Orleans a few seasons ago, one of my old customers said, 'Look here, I don't see any use of buying goods from you. I can buy them right home just as cheaply as you sell them to me, and save the freight. This freight item amounts to a good deal in the course of a year. See, here is a stiff hat that I buy for twenty-four dollars a dozen that is just as good as the one that you are selling me for the same money. Look at it.' He passed it over to me. I rubbed my hand over the crown and quickly I rapped the derby over my fist knocking the crown clean off it. I threw the rim onto the floor and didn't say a word. This play cost me a new hat but it was the best way I could answer my customer's argument. After that, my customer was as gentle as a dove. He afterwards admitted that he liked my goods better but that he was trying to work me for the difference in freight."
"The clerk can always give you a good many straight tips," spoke up one of the boys.
"Yes, and you bet your life he does his best to queer you once in a while, too!" said the clothing man. "I know I had a tough tussle with one not a great while ago down in Pittsburgh. Last season I placed a small bunch of stuff in a big store there. I had been late in getting around but the merchant liked my samples and told me that if the goods delivered turned out all right he would give me good business this season.
"Now, my house delivers right up to sample. A great many houses do not, and so merchants go not on the samples they look at but according to the goods delivered to them. It is the house that delivers good merchandise that holds its business, not the one that shows bright samples on the road and ships poor stuff.
"I went up to my man's store—this was just a few weeks ago—and asked him to come over with me.
"'My head clothing man,' said my customer, 'does not like your stuff. I might as well be frank with you about it.' 'What objection has he to it?' said I. 'He says they don't fit. He says the trimmings and everything are all right and I wish they did fit because your prices look cheap to me.' 'Well, let's go over and see about that,' said I. 'There's no one in the world more willing and anxious to make things right than I am if there is anything wrong.' I didn't know just what I had to go up against. The man on the road gets all the kicks.
"Once in a while there is a clerk who puts out his hand like the boy who waits on you at table and if pretty good coin is not dropped in it or some favor shown him, he will have it in for you.
"My customer and I walked over to where the clerk was and I came right out, and said, 'Johnny, what's the matter with this clothing you've received from me? Mr. Green (the merchant) here tells me you say it doesn't fit. Let's see about that.'
"The clerk was slim and stoop-shouldered. The tailor to his royal highness could not have made a coat hang right on him.