"I would go to the camp meetings and festivals, sing a few songs, get the people warmed up with a good sermon, and then sell hundreds of song books in the end."
"Wonderful!" from Sidney.
"I am going to the HNRTYU convention at Timberdale Thursday, and I thought you'd like to go along," he said, artfully.
"Couldn't very well do it, unless you got them to hold the convention over until next week."
"You will not take me seriously, regardless of my success," he complained. "Now yesterday I sold a pile of song books, and today I am sending the man his share of the money. I could do you some good with the book you are general agent for, if you would increase my commission to seventy-five cents a copy, and lower the price to a dollar."
"If you wrote the publishers, they might give you the books free of charge, providing you agreed to pay the freight on arrival, and not let the railroad company come back on them later for it," soliloquized Sidney.
He went to Timberdale the next day, and the office saw no more of him for a week.
"When will Mr. Coleman return?" Mrs. Lautier would inquire every day. "I certainly do miss him."
"He's our mascot, our jest. I miss him also," said Sidney, and they both spoke of him at some length.
Mrs. Lautier was also a sociable person about the office, Sidney was coming to appreciate more each day. She was from New Orleans, and a creole. She had personality, and a way that won all who were near her. She was slender and very dark, and, although only thirty-nine, was almost white-haired, which contrasted beautifully with her dark skin. Her eyes were small and bead-like, while she was affectionate by nature. Her make-up was in keeping with the position she held as matron at one of the local Negro colleges. When she spoke, her voice struck the ear musically. She was a widow.