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Rh that direction. A man handling ventilating machines must possess some technical knowledge; must know something about the construction of the machine, its workings, etc. He must be ready to suggest points advantageous to the grower contemplating a change in or introduction of ventilating apparatus. The same holds true about steam-traps and boilers. Unless a man is well posted and knows fully what he is talking about, mere skill in salesmanship will avail him nothing. I made an attempt in this direction, trying to study up things, to read all I could upon the subject, including pamphlets issued by Mr. Hippard and his competitors, and the trade advertisements of all of them; but the actual technical knowledge was lacking.

J. D. Carmody of Evansville "Which is Near Posey County" The advertisements of one of our competitors attracted my especial attention. It was that of J. D. Carmody of Evansville, Ind., "which is near Posey County." His advertisements were remarkably unique, and models of their kind; so much so, indeed, that the little magazine "Printers' Ink," a journal devoted exclusively to advertising matter, quoted some of them as gems in an advertising line. My older friends in the business doubtless recall his inimitable style of diction and spelling. "Mr. Editur," he would begin, "I take me pen in me hand to let you know that I have the best bilers on erth, that if me friends will buy one of me bilers, they will use one ton of coal, and if they buy two of me bilers, they will use two tons of coal, and if they buy three of me bilers, they will have coal to sell."

His "picture" would invariably accompany his ads. One picture in particular remains in my memory. It was that of a young boy dressed in a pair of knee breeches, held up by one home-made suspender, and with a conspicuous patch on the seat. Underneath was the inscription: "This is me picture. A back view of a stern reality." His advertisements were concluded with: "Me name is J. D. Carmody, and I live in Evansville, Ind., which is near Posey County." Another advertisement pictured him riding astride a bullock. This one bore the label: "A Posey County stud—on my way home from the Carnation Association."

At the banquet given by the Indianapolis florists during the convention where the ill-fated "Nelson" was exhibited, it devolved upon Mr. Carmody to be toast-master of the evening. His wit was the life of the occasion. Every speaker on the program was introduced in some unique manner. Mr. Carmody took occasion to tell his numerous friends at the festal board of his own experiences in the nether regions. In his most solemn manner, with never a smile to indicate that he had any intention of being funny, he told us how his Satanic Majesty met and conversed with him.

"Who are you?" asked his Satanic Majesty.

"Don't you know me?" replied Mr. Carmody. "I'm J. D. Carmody, from Evansville, Ind., which is near Posey County."

"Oh, to be sure. I've heard about you! You're the man who ventilated our place, with your hothouse contraptions. Why, I'm sure all the imps and little devils will be glad to see you and welcome you."

His reference to a few other gentlemen whom his Satanic Majesty welcomed as favored guests created quite an uproar in his audience.

At another flower show, where Mr. Fairbanks, Vice-President of the United States, made a few remarks, Mr. Carmody was chosen to respond. And how well he responded! He told his audience that he was proud to trace his ancestry away back to an honorable line of gardeners. Why, the first progenitor himself, Mr. Adam, was a gardener, acquiring his experience in the Garden of Eden.

On that same evening, a circle of friends gathered at a cafe to partake of the hospitality provided by the generous florists of Indianapolis. Mr. Carmody was the informal toastmaster of the occasion, and he called upon everybody present