Page:The Tales of a Traveller.djvu/73

Rh him to come and see the condition of the stock for himself. Receiving no reply, he wrote again, more urgently than before. Mr. Hagerman finally appeared. What was the trouble? The grower opened a few cases, and showed Mr. Hagerman their contents. The bulbs were badly sprouted.

Mr. Hagerman grasped his Van Dyke beard thoughtfully, reflected a moment, and said:

"Mr. X, don't you see that these Lilies are so vigorous—so vigorous that they started to grow in the cases! Now you just plant them, and they'll take care of themselves."

The grower looked at him in amazement, then answered:

"Mr. Hagerman, you have missed your vocation. You should have been a lawyer instead of a bulb man."

Another incident is just as amusing.

A competitor of Mr. Hagerman, to whom he paid a visit once, happened to have a few Lilium auratum bulbs on his desk.

"What are these?" queried Mr. Hagerman.

"Don't you know them?" replied the other. "Why this is a vegetable plant, imported from France. The French people know how to make a delicious salad of it. The way to do it is this: You parboil them, chop them up, put a little vinegar and oil, and salt and pepper to suit your taste. It makes a dish fit for a king!"

"And what do you call this vegetable?" asked Air. Hagerman.

"Lilium auratum," replied the jester.

"The idea of it!" exclaimed Mr. Hagerman. "I've been selling Lilium auratum for the past ten years, and never saw them."

The sad ending of this prosperous man, as well as of his successor, need not be dwelt upon here.

The humorous incidents that might be related about the traveling men I have met are many, and would fill a book by themselves. A few, however, are amusing enough to demand mention here.

There was an old salesman (one of the pioneers) who was noted for the exuberance of his business zeal, as well as for his marked peculiarities. As an economist, he had no rival in his line. It was said that he could "dine on a cheese sandwich, and sleep under an umbrella." His capacity for hard work was unlimited. It was a matter of daily habit with him to start out at six in the morning, and work until ten or eleven at night.

On one occasion he arrived in a town at eight-thirty in the evening. Upon consulting the time tables, he found that he could leave the town at eleven that night. He had only one customer to see. Why not see him at once? The customer happened to live on the outskirts of the city, and car-lines in those days were in most towns conspicuous by their absence. He started on foot, and reached his customer's place about nine-thirty. The place was already closed. But that made no difference to him. He rang the bell. An upper window opened, and the customer looked out.

"Who's there?" he shouted.

"Good evening, Mr. X," replied the salesman: "it's me. I just got to town, and as I intend to leave at eleven, I thought I'd see you. Say, we have a few cases of bulbs on hand—a surplus, on which I can make you an especially attractive price. How many could you use?"

Mr. X's amusement tempered his resentment at being routed out of bed, and knowing the peculiarities of the man, he dismissed him with a good-natured—

"Nothing tonight. Call some other time."