Page:The Tales of a Traveller.djvu/89

Rh "I nevver met a b ines man lik yoo ar."

Which translated reads:

"I have your letter. I thank you ever so much for it. I find you ask me for references. I do not have to give references to anybody. If I could not do business without references, I would not have any business. I gave you the order C. O. D. If that does not do you, you can keep your Ferns and

"I never met a business man like you are."

This remarkable piece of business literature came to me in response to a polite letter from me stating that before attending to his mail order I would like to have reference about his business standing, or else cash in advance. The man was undoubtedly honest, and meant well, as the very tone of his indignant letter indicated. The fact that he took such exception to references, regarding the request for them as a serious offence and a reflection upon his honor, simply proves that the man has no conception of business principles. In this case, too, I may have cited an extreme instance; but the illustrations given are sufficient to prove my contention that our credit system, both wholesale and retail, needs modernizing.

John Thorpe and William Scott

Among the eminent figures in the horticultural world a few years ago were John Thorpe of Queens, L. I., and William Scott, of Buffalo. My acquaintance with Mr. Thorpe was slight. I never met him during the years of his prosperity—at the time when he was president of the S. A. F. and O. H., and for years thereafter, when his business success was at its height. I had heard a great deal, however, about Mr. Thorpe, of his profound botanical learning, as well as his numerous peculiarities that seemed rather to enhance than detract from popular appreciation of him. It is said that the great Henry Ward Beecher, the eminent Brooklyn divine, was one of Mr. Thorpe's friends and admirers. Mr. Thorpe's prediction that our Carnation would reach the four-inch dimension has long since been fulfilled.

After severing his connections with Hallock, in Queens, Mr. Thorpe drifted westward. In 1893, during the World's Fair in Chicago, he was placed in charge of the horticultural department. Later on, he managed flower shows in Kansas City, Mo. What his successes or failures were does not concern us at this time. The deplorable fact is that the light of this star was soon dimmed; and as years rolled on adversity fastened its grip more and more firmly upon him, until finally he ended his days in poverty and obscurity. A sad ending of a career that promised so well at its outset. His staunchest admirers have told me time and again that he himself was in a great measure accountable for his downfall.

The name of William Scott will ever remain a pleasant memory to those who, like myself, knew him intimately. Mr. Scott was pre-eminently a man of culture. And by this I mean that his knowledge was not confined to the limits of his own profession, although there, too, he stood at the head. He was a voracious reader of the best world literature, including philosophy, history, zoology, and belles lettres. Such scientists as Darwin and Huxley often engaged his attention late into the night, and that in spite of a hard day's work which would incline many a man in his place to take to his bed and pass into dreamland.

In fiction he confined himself to the classics; and among the English writers Dickens was his great favorite. So great was his fondness for him that he quoted passages from him on all occasions, illustrating his remarks by reference to many of Dickens's characters. Even his den did not escape Dickens's influence, for the walls were lined with cartoons of Pickwick, Micawber, Sairy Gamp, and the rest.

William Scott was a man not easily approachable; short in his answers, pointed in his remarks, at times impatient and brusque in his manner, he gave the