Twenty years a fakir

by S. James Weldon

At times he made two trips through the section of the country, if it seemed likely to prove profitable. On the first trip he was careful what he said and did, so that there would be nothing to interfere with his coming again. He then carried the “Pain Balm,” good for internal as well as external application. He seldom attempted to sell a bottle, but left it with every responsible person he could get to accept the trust. The understanding was that if the individual meantime had found no need for the article, or did not care to purchase, Munson was to take it back on his next call. The price was one dollar a bottle, and the holder was at liberty to try the medicine in case he had need of it, and if it did not prove satisfactory the bottle could still be returned, provided the contents were not one-quarter gone.

Usually, when the doctor came, at the expiration of about three weeks, three-fourths of the bottles would be returned. Even at that the scheme was good for ordinary profits, and when used in connection with street faking in the towns it helped the business amazingly.

I have said that I had some knowledge of music. The doctor carried several instruments with him, and when we had practiced together for about a week we were able to give quite an interesting entertainment, not only drawing, but holding a large concourse of people. After that there were several methods of handling them. Before we had been traveling together a month I knew them all and one or the other of us would do the work, just as it happened.

For instance: The crowd gathered and we started in by announcing to the good people that to every one who patronized us we would give a piece of pie.

Then I gave a strong talk on the merits of the medicine, and began to offer it for sale. It was a very cold day if I had not struck some purchasers in the audience, who had a quarter of a dollar—or fifty cents—to throw away, and a curiosity to see what the “pie” looked like. With every bottle or package I sold I would take the quarter received, add another to it, and place them in an envelope. This was done before their eyes, and as I threw the money in a little box I would remark, “There goes a piece of pie.”

After selling a dozen or fifteen packages at a quarter each, I would call up every man who had made a purchase and return his quarter, with the other quarter added to it, remarking as I did so:

“There, sir, is your piece of pie.”

I would then start selling fifty-cent packages, and with every one sold would put the money, and an extra half, in the box as before, and subsequently returning the double portion.

Apparently, we had money in inexhaustible quantities, and were willing to scatter it freely. By this time the crowd was entirely with us. We had what some people call the magnetic influence firmly established, and the closer the people packed together the stronger it worked. The man who does not believe in the possibility of getting something for nothing is a rara avis; most any gudgeon will bite at the idea of doubling his money without risk or labor. I would begin to sell one dollar packages, adding two dollars to every one sold, and on calling the customers up to the carriage I returned them their dollars.

By this time I had the crowd worked up to the proper pitch, and I would start to selling five-dollar and ten-dollar packages. With the money received for each five-dollar package I would place a ten-dollar gold piece, and with every ten dollars a twenty-dollar gold piece, the people supposing, of course, that it was going to be “pie.” You will notice I made no promise beyond that of giving them “pie,” and to that word they attached their own significance.