At last I hit upon a plan. I always did hit a plan if I took the time, and that was my weak point. I was apt to waste many precious moments in reflection which should have been used in action.
What I thought of was this:
Through the aid of several different city directories I secured the names of hundreds of saloon-keepers. As a class—outside of their own business, which I do not at all revere—they are a jolly, happy-go-lucky lot of people, who admire what has the appearance of a practical joke, are free with their money, and are on the best of terms with all the world and the rest of mankind.
I wrapped each book in a neat and separate package, and distributed the whole lot so that the three hundred and eighty volumes would reach three hundred and eighty different saloon-keepers on Christmas day, each one priced “One dollar, C. O. D.”
One day ahead I sent out to each individual I had marked as my own a letter like the following:
“Dear Brother:—The good book hath said, ‘There is a time for everything,’ and there is a time to turn from earthly joys and earthly gains and think of those mansions in the skies which one day will be our lot if we only redeem the accepted time. It has well been said, ‘Prepare thy souls for the Resurrection day and the judgment,’ To do this you must read the good book, else you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven.
“I send you today by express a nice pocket edition of the bible. If you think it may save your soul, take it and pay the charges. If you have no confidence in the holy book do not receive it. In any case, God bless you. From
“A Friend.”
About one-third of the bibles were accepted on the first delivery. I took my money, which was more than half profit, and magnanimously presented the express company with the remaining unclaimed packages, suspecting that every one of them would be a dead loss to me.
