Twenty years a fakir

by S. James Weldon

A man who can buy, and won’t buy, is like the bird that can sing and won’t sing. If you can once get him interested, and continue the argument without in any way exciting his anger, he can be made to buy. In handling a hard customer I found it a good plan sometimes to continue talking, without giving him much chance to say a word. I paid no attention to the objections he offered, knowing that in most cases they were of no weight with him, but only made as a pretext to get rid of me. I just kept on with my argument, and pretty soon he would be apt to come to time and think perhaps I was talking sense after all. If I felt him slipping through my fingers I talked all the harder, until, perhaps, the man would give me an order for the sake of my pure audacity and to get rid of me.

Sensitiveness was a quality I absolutely discarded, substituting what some people would call cheek and gall of the purest and most unadulterated grade.

Did I always make people buy? Well, not always; but with fair subjects at least two out of ten would succumb, and in the encyclopedia business that would mean big money for a working day.

As a rule, a man is less easy to sell to than a woman. A woman is more accustomed to buying just as she has the money and opportunity. A man usually makes up his mind in advance, goes at his leisure to some local merchant and makes his deliberate selection. An agent drops in on him when all thought of making a purchase is far from him. There’s the rub. I might have to go around such a man cautiously for half an hour to get him interested.

To do so successfully his curiosity must be aroused and his attention fixed. I would ask him if he had ever heard such and such a passage in a certain story. Then I would quote some very beautiful and touching extracts, or comical ones, which would make him laugh. In some way I started him in a desire to see the books. Then I was safe.

Perhaps the most pitching part of all my arguments was where I used flattery. If given in the right place and in the proper proportions, like the axe and the chicken, it always reached the neck.

It is not always easy for an agent or canvasser to gain an entrance to a private house, unless he uses some trick or wile to fit the occasion. Usually I found it the best plan to leave a sample volume at my first call, never offering to go beyond the door, and stating to the lady that it was for her husband to look at, but it would be a gratification if she would examine it herself. If the book excites the least interest the way will be opened for a subsequent call. I have appeared at the door, when my ring was answered, as just drawing a big bunch of letters from my pocket. Accidently dropping two or three of them on the porch, I would politely ask the lady of the house if I could not assort them on a table. Believing that I had one for her she would invite me in. I was the inventor, I believe, of the envelope addressed to “the lady of the house,” but I always had my little sample package, or nicely printed table of contents, addressed to the lady personally. Having gained an entrance, I presented this and then stated my business, finding little trouble in securing an audience.

Once, when I was trying to sell some books to a man, I had him interested, as I thought, but could not close the deal. While talking to him he pulled out his pipe and prepared for a smoke. Taking a cigar from my pocket I said, “My friend, try a twenty-five cent cigar.”

The thought of smoking a twenty-five cent cigar pleased him. He took it with a smile; the weed did the work; I got the order. After that I always carried a few good cigars in my pocket.

Another time I remember going into a place of business and telling the proprietor I had just come from Hartsburg, his former home—I posted myself on the points before calling—and that while there I had met General Ball, who sent his regards. He had requested me to call and show his old friend what I had so interested the people of Hartsburg. In fact, he had given me a note of introduction—here I fumbled unsuccessfully in my pocket—but it seemed to have been mislaid, over which I appeared to be very much distressed. But I went through my canvass all right. I had gained the man’s attention and sold him a set of encyclopedias.