Paul the Peddler; Or, The Fortunes of a Young Street Merchant, Jr. Horatio Alger [drm ebook reader TXT] 📗

never likely to rise above a very moderate success. Paul was quite different. He was quick, enterprising, and smart. He was a boy likely to push his way to success unless circumstances were very much against him.

“I'd like to sell more than George Barry,” he said to himself. “I don't know if I can, but I'm going to try.”

The day was half over, and probably the most profitable, so far as business was concerned. Paul had only four or five hours left.

“Let me see,” he said to himself. “I ought to sell six neckties to come up to the average of half a day's sale. I wonder whether I can do it.”

As his soliloquy ended, his quick eye detected a young man glancing at his stock, and he observed that he paused irresolutely, as if half inclined to purchase.

“Can't I sell you a necktie to-day?” asked Paul, promptly.

“I don't know,” said the other. “What do you charge?”

“You can have your choice for twenty-five cents. That is cheap, isn't it?”

“Yes, that's cheap. Let me look at them.”

“Here's one that will suit your complexion,” said Paul.

“Yes, that's a pretty one. I think I'll take it.”

“You have to pay twice as much in the shops,” continued Paul, as he rolled it up. “You see, we have no rent to pay, and so we can sell cheap. You'll save money by always buying your neckties here.”

“The only objection to that is that I don't live in the city. I am here only for a day. I live about fifty miles in the country.”

“Then I'll tell you what you'd better do,” said Paul. “Lay in half a dozen, while you are about it. It'll only be a dollar and a half, and you'll save as much as that by doing it.”

“I don't know but you are right,” said his customer, whom the suggestion impressed favorably. “As you say, it's only a dollar and a half, and it'll give me a good stock.”

“Let me pick them out for you,” said Paul, briskly, “unless there's something you see yourself.”

“I like that one.”

“All right. What shall be the next?”

Finally, the young man selected the entire half-dozen, and deposited a dollar and a half in Paul's hands.

“Come and see me again,” said Paul, “and if you have any friends coming to the city, send them to me.”

“I will,” said the other.

“Tell them it's the first stand south of the Astor House. Then they won't miss it.”

“That's a good beginning,” said Paul to himself, with satisfaction. “Half a day's average sales already, and I've only been here fifteen minutes. Let me see, what will my profits be on that? Three shillings, I declare. That isn't bad, now!”

Paul had reason to be satisfied with himself. If he had not spoken, the young man would very probably have gone on without purchasing at all, or, at any rate, remained content with a single necktie. Paul's manner and timely word had increased his purchase sixfold. That is generally the difference between a poor salesman and one of the first class. Anybody can sell to those who are anxious to buy; but it takes a smart man to persuade a customer that he wants what otherwise he would go without. The difference in success is generally appreciated by dealers, and a superior salesman is generally paid a handsome salary.

“I don't believe George Barry would have sold that man so many ties,” thought Paul. “I hope I shall have as good luck next time.”

But this, of course, was not to be expected. It is not every customer who can be persuaded to buy half-a-dozen ties, even by the most eloquent salesman. However, in the course of an hour more, Paul had sold three more to single customers. Then came a man who bought two. Then there was a lull, and for an hour Paul sold none at all. But business improved a little toward the close of the afternoon, and when it was time to close up, our young merchant found that he had disposed of fifteen.

“My share of the profits will be ninety-three cents,” thought Paul, with satisfaction. “That isn't bad for an afternoon's work.”