“Let me pick them out for you,” said Paul, briskly, “unless there's something you see yourself.”
“I like that one.”
“All right. What shall be the next?”
Finally, the young man selected the entire half-dozen, and deposited a dollar and a half in Paul's hands.
“Come and see me again,” said Paul, “and if you have any friends coming to the city, send them to me.”
“I will,” said the other.
“Tell them it's the first stand south of the Astor House. Then they won't miss it.”
“That's a good beginning,” said Paul to himself, with satisfaction. “Half a day's average sales already, and I've only been here fifteen minutes. Let me see, what will my profits be on that? Three shillings, I declare. That isn't bad, now!”
Paul had reason to be satisfied with himself. If he had not spoken, the young man would very probably have gone on without purchasing at all, or, at any rate, remained content with a single necktie. Paul's manner and timely word had increased his purchase sixfold. That is generally the difference between a poor salesman and one of the first class. Anybody can sell to those who are anxious to buy; but it takes a smart man to persuade a customer that he wants what otherwise he would go without. The difference in success is generally appreciated by dealers, and a superior salesman is generally paid a handsome salary.
“I don't believe George Barry would have sold that man so many ties,” thought Paul. “I hope I shall have as good luck next time.”