Our choice . . . . . . . . . . 25 cents.
Your choice. . . . . . . . . . 35 cents.
—Elgin Burroughs.
The quick wit of a traveling salesman who has since become a well-known merchant was severely tested one day. He sent in his card by the office-boy to the manager of a large concern, whose inner office was separated from the waiting-room by a ground-glass partition. When the boy handed his card to the manager the salesman saw him impatiently tear it in half and throw it in the waste-basket; the boy came out and told the caller that he could not see the chief. The salesman told the boy to go back and get him his card; the boy brought out five cents, with the message that his card was torn up. Then the salesman took out another card and sent the boy back, saying: "Tell your boss I sell two cards for five cents."
He got his interview and sold a large bill of goods.
A young man entered a hat store and asked to see the latest styles in derbies. He was evidently hard to please, for soon the counter was covered with hats that he had tried on and found wanting. At last the salesman picked up a brown derby, brushed it off on his sleeve, and extended it admiringly.
"These are being very much worn this season, sir," he said. "Won't you try it on?"
The customer put the hat on and surveyed himself critically in the mirror. "You're sure it's in style?"