Sometimes, after securing a number of orders, some of them would be turned back to me. The party might die, or go broke, or something else happen, and I usually had some dead wood on my hands about the time I was almost ready to leave.
That gave me little trouble. The frames were very fine, of six-inch, heavy moulding, beautifully fluted and with gilt or oxidized trimmings. So far as looks went, they were worth all you might ask for them, if you left out of account the actual cost of manufacture. I would walk into a man’s place of business and set the frame against something so the light could shine full upon it. Then I would ask:
“What do you think of that for six dollars?”
Customer.—“It’s pretty nice, but don’t try to sell me any today; I haven’t the money.”
Agent.—“Who said I wanted to sell them? I am giving them away.”
Customer.—“How is that?”
Agent.—“I’ll tell you. I am in the picture business, and only furnish frames as an accommodation. I had some thirteen orders turned back on me, and I want to get rid of the frames. Freight is double first-class, and it don’t pay to ship them back. Besides, I haven’t the time to fool with them, and I’m going to close them out regardless. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If I can get thirteen orders in this town I’ll deliver them, just like this, all complete and ready to frame your picture in, for one dollar apiece. And I’ll bet one hundred dollars you never saw a frame of that kind sold under seven dollars.”
Customer (examining the frame and getting interested).—“Well, I must say, that is pretty cheap.”
Agent.—“Cheap? Why, it is virtually giving them away, but I want to get rid of them.”
Customer.—“You go ahead and see what you can do with some one else. In the meantime I’ll see my wife and find out what she thinks about it. You can drop in after dinner for my answer.”