Yes and No

By BARRY PAIN.

RS. DOWSE, greengrocer, maintained that Mrs. Meakin owed her two pounds three shillings and fourpence. Mrs. Meakin disputed certain items in the account, and declared that until these were amended she would not pay one penny. Finally resort was had to the Law.

The Law asked Mrs. Dowse severely: "Do you say that on September second you sold this lady two pounds of tomatoes? Yes or no."

"Can't be answered that way," said Mrs. Dowse.

"Surely. Why not?"

"Because if you believe me and my books, then I did sell her two of toms. on September second; but if you'd sooner believe her word, then I made her an unintentional present of the fruit."

There was laughter. Mrs. Dowse won.

And afterwards a smart reporter got a word or two with her.

"Do you never say 'Yes' or 'No'?" he asked.

"I'm not given to it," said Mrs. Dowse.

"What did you say when your husband asked you to marry him?"

"Say? I said we could but try it."

The next day there was an amusing paragraph about Mrs. Dowse in two actual newspapers. She read it with considerable satisfaction. The advertisement for which you pay is good; the advertisement for which you don't pay is better.

"Ah," said Mrs. Dowse to her two sons, who assisted her in the shop, "that ought to bring people into the shop. Once I get them here, I can make them come back again. The trouble has been to make a start."

Mrs. Dowse had formerly worked in her husband's business in one of the nearer suburbs. The business had grown rapidly. Three years after his death she was able to sell it at a very good price. She began to look round for another opportunity.

She finally acquired a shop at a derelict price in the north-west of London. There seemed to be no competition to fear, and the people in the neighbourhood mostly had a little money to spend. She put the shop in order, and made no great expenditure on its outer glories.

Then came a blow. Before her premises were opened, Messrs. Multiple and Co. opened one of their large branch establishments little more than a quarter of a mile away from her. Messrs. Multiple's shop had a much more imposing and decorative frontage than Mrs. Dowse's. It had every kind of exotic luxury for sale. It had an excellent motor van. It was beautifully organised. The consequence was that people patronised the establishment of Messrs. Multiple, and for the most part left Mrs. Dowse's shop alone.

She made her way, but very slowly. In some respects she had an advantage over the big shop. Her expenses were less. She paid less for labour. She had a very useful connection with some small growers in that suburb less than ten miles away, and she could buy from them without the intervention of middlemen. She also bought at Covent Garden, and her elder son was a first-rate buyer. She could frequently give her customers produce fresher and better at a lower price than they could get from Messrs. Multiple. But, as she said, the trouble was to get the customers into the shop. Messrs. Multiple's establishment looked to be altogether of a better class.

The newspaper paragraphs proved an even better advertisement than Mrs. Dowse had expected. They called the attention of ladies in the neighbourhood to the fact that they had in a shop quite close to them a woman who never used the words "Yes" and "No." Logically, that was no particular reason why they should buy their brussels sprouts from her. But it aroused their curiosity, and they could hardly investigate without making a purchase. Mrs. Dowse smilingly told them that these newspapers did exaggerate so, but at the same time she was careful not to answer one of their questions by "Yes" or "No." The sons were also in the plot, and played up properly.

"It's true enough," said the eldest to an inquiring customer. "I've never known mother to give 'Yes' or 'No' to a question in my life."

But to her new customers she gave better quality and lower prices than Messrs. Multiple had been giving them. She also gave full weight and sometimes overweight.

"I'm going there regularly in the future," said Mrs. Smith. "The last lot I had from Messrs. Multiple was stale and dear, and half an ounce under weight in the pound. Nothing to make a fuss about, but, all the same, I don't like it. Mrs. Dowse may be a bit of a crank, but she knows her job, and she's an honest woman."

Mrs. Smith told all this to Mrs. Brown, and she likewise in time transferred her custom to Mrs. Dowse. Mrs. Brown's friend Mrs. Robinson said to her: "What! Do you go to that funny little shop?"

"Yes, rather," said Mrs. Brown. "Everybody's going there now. The woman's a perfect scream. She won't say 'Yes' or 'No' to a question. There were long articles about it in one of the newspapers. Just come along in with me and I'll show you."

"Good morning," said Mrs. Brown in the shop. "Have you, by any chance, seen my little girl go past?"

"Well, I have and I haven't," said Mrs. Dowse.

"Well, it must be one or the other, mustn't it? "

"What I mean, mum, is that I saw her go past the door, and then I looked again, and it was some other little girl."

Whereat Mrs. Robinson was so delighted that she bought Victoria plums, and they were very much better than the weary and bloomless fruit that she had been getting from Messrs. Multiple.

Once or twice, after her shop had been crowded all the morning, Mrs. Dowse put up her somewhat shabby shutters at midday and chalked on them: "Sold out. More to-morrow."

It need hardly be said that this did not escape the notice of the manager at Messrs. Multiple's. He was losing customers, his sales were going down, and he sent in reports to the head office. He complained bitterly of the goods that were being supplied to him, and said that they did not give him a chance. He did not think that Mrs. Dowse had any capital to speak of—in which he was entirely mistaken—and that a month or six weeks of steady underselling might put her out of action.

It did nothing of the kind. Mrs. Dowse was perfectly frank to her customers.

"They're selling these things very much cheaper down the road," she said. "They're not the same quality as mine, but they're selling them for less than they cost. If I wanted to do them an injury, I'd recommend you to try there."

After a lapse of some months a gentleman called from Messrs. Multiple's head office and desired to see Mrs. Dowse. He was shown into the parlour at the back of the shop.

"Good morning, Mrs. Dowse," he said. "I'm from Messrs. Multiple, and I'm going to be perfectly frank with you. There's no room for two shops like yours in this neighbourhood. We're simply cutting one another's throats, and it's not worth while."

"I've not noticed much wrong with my throat," said Mrs. Dowse. "But what were you suggesting?"

"If you stop here you'll be frozen out. We've got the capital, and we can do it. But it will cost us less to make you a fair offer. We'll give you a profit of twenty per cent. on what you paid for this little shanty, and with that a clever woman like you will soon pick up a better business elsewhere."

Mrs. Dowse shook her head. "I made this business," she said. "It wasn't a business before I came here, you know. But the thing's grown, and I could do with a bigger shop, if you care to sell yours."

"That, of course, is ridiculous. We've spent a lot of money on that place. If you don't like my offer, tell me what you would like."

She told him.

"I'll submit it to the directors," he said, "but of course you haven't an earthly chance."

"Don't let them be too long about it," said Mrs. Dowse. "I may want more in a few months' time."

After he had gone, Mrs. Dowse instructed her sons to look out for a new opening in some other district.

"What!" said the eldest. "You don't think they'll pay all that, do you?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Dowse, forgetting that this was the word she never used.

And they did.