Twenty Years of Hus'ling
economize at their expense.
After discounting his note at the bank, I returned home to see how "the
boy" was getting on.
A few days later I took the agency for another Patent, and gave up the
dropper, which was too hard to sell. An acquaintance joined me, when we
started on what proved to be a red-hot Patent-right campaign, and with
the usual results of all Patent-right schemes.
When ready for a start, we had just about money enough to pay our
expenses to Napoleon, Ohio, where we had decided to go. On arriving
there we took quarters at a first-class hotel, and began "hus'ling" to
find a customer. When we had been there about ten days, the landlord, a
very pleasant little gentleman, called my partner one side, and said he
guessed he would have to ask us for a little money.
"Well," said Frank, "all right, sir; all right, sir. Make out your
cussed old bill. I am not in the habit of being asked for money before I
am ready to leave. However, you can make out your bill, and receipt it
in full, sir!"
"Oh, no, no!" he remonstrated; "I'll do nothing of the kind, sir. It was
not my intention to insult you, Let it go. Let it go. It's all right. I
meant nothing out of the way."
Frank cooled down; and as he passed by me said, _sotto voce_; "I guess
we can stay all summer now, if we want to."
While at Napoleon, we had been in correspondence with several parties in
different towns, who were known to me as traders. After spending two
weeks there, we received a letter requesting us to visit a neighboring
town, where there was a prospect for a good trade. We had succeeded in
selling one Township right, which brought us cash enough for incidental
expenses.
Hence we were unable to pay our hotel bill, and as the landlord was not
in the office when we were ready to go, we simply left a note saying we
would return later.
We were gone two weeks, barely paying expenses, and returned to
Napoleon. Rushing into the hotel office, we grasped the landlord by both
hands, saying: "Did you think we had jumped our board bill, landlord?"
"Well, by golly, I didn't know what to think of it."
"Oh, pshaw! You ought to know us by this time. How are the nice cream
biscuit? Suppose you've got some for tea, haven't you? Guess we'll wash.
Put us down for a good room, landlord. How are the folks, landlord?"
He said he had thought all the time we would turn up again, some day. We
then explained the nature of our business, and told him he needn't be
surprised if we left suddenly at any time; but he could always look for
us back, sooner or later. We remained two weeks longer, with about the
same success that had attended us before.
One day the landlord pulled a chair up by me, in the office, and said
very mildly and pleasantly,
"Mr. Johnston, I have never yet asked you for money, and----"
"No," I quickly interrupted, "you never have, and I certainly respect
you for it. If there is anything on this earth I dislike, it is a
penurious, suspicious, narrow-minded landlord--always dunning his
guests, and treating them like tramps. And I'd leave a man's house as
soon as I could settle up and get out, if I was ever dunned by him."
"Well, I going to say, I never make a practice of dunning gentlemen who
stop with me, and----"
"Well, that's right, landlord, that's right, and you'll make friends, in
the long run, by not doing so. When I get ready to quit a hotel for
good, I've got sense enough to ask for my bill, and then settle in
full--and that is all anyone can ask for. How about the cream biscuit
for supper, landlord?"
He said he guessed they were going to have some; and then asked how
business was, anyway.
I told him our business had almost frightened us.
He said that was good.
Frank, who was sitting behind the stove listening to the conversation,
said, as I passed by him a moment later: "I guess he'll lay still now."
About this time we received a letter from a sewing-machine agent at
Hicksville, saying he would trade a machine for a County right. We left
forthwith, without even bidding the landlord good-bye.
It took us four days to trade for the machine, and money enough to pay
our expenses for that time.
We shipped the machine to Napoleon, and returned there ourselves on the
first train. When we entered the hotel, we both rushed for the
proprietor, saying, as we grasped his hands:
"How are you, landlord? How is everything? Did you think we had left for
good, landlord? Hope you didn't think we had jumped our board-bill?
Guess we'll take a wash. Put us down for a good room, landlord. How are
the cream biscuit? Suppose we'll have some for supper. How are all the
folks?"
He looked a little woe-begone, and said he was glad to see us back; and
he knew we would turn up soon.
The next morning we had the sewing-machine set up in the hotel office.
This seemed to console the landlord somewhat, as it was a brand new
machine.
However, he appeared crest-fallen, a day or two later, when we sold it
for forty dollars cash, and pocketed the money, saying nothing.
In a couple of days we took another sudden departure, for Bryan, Ohio,
where we traded for an old horse, harness and wagon.
The horse proved to be an obstreperous, balky thing, and as contrary as
a mule. I used all of my knowledge of horse-training, with no effect.
One day, just when he had balked, we met some boys near a corn-crib, on
their way home from fishing. One of them had a long fishing-rod and a
stout line, I gave him twenty-five cents for it and asked him to bring
an ear of corn from the field. He did so, and after tying the corn to
the end of the line, I held the pole over the horse's head, and let the
corn hang about two feet from his nose. He started right off, and we had
no further difficulty in persuading him to go.
If we failed to hold the corn in plain sight he would stop at once.
We hacked around over the country, first one holding the pole and then
the other, becoming so accustomed to it that we often wondered what
people were laughing at, as we passed them.
In a few days we arrived at Napoleon, drove up in front of the hotel,
jumped out, ordered our horse put out, rushed in, grabbed the proprietor
by the hands, with--"How are you, landlord? Did you think we had jumped
our board bill this time? How are the folks? Guess we'll take a wash.
Put us down for a good room, landlord. Any cream biscuit for supper
to-night?"
He said: "By gol, I didn't hardly know what to think of it, this time;
but I thought perhaps you would turn up, after a while."
He seemed delighted that we had brought a horse and wagon with us, and
we tried to sell it to him. He would have bought, only that the
fish-pole-and-corn scheme had to be kept up, to make the horse go.
After about three days we again left; and then succeeded in making a
very fair trade, coming into possession of a handsome pair of horses,
harness and carriage, and two hundred and fifty dollars in cash, for six
County rights.
We then traded the old horse for a small pony, which we sold for twenty
dollars, and started for Napoleon, arriving there after an absence of
about ten days.
We drove up to the hotel, ordered our horses put out, rushed in as
usual, took the proprietor by the hand, and said:
"You just about thought we had quit you for good, this time, didn't
you? Guess we'll take a wash, landlord. Put us down for a good room. How
about the cream biscuit? Folks all well? Landlord, did you notice our
team? It's the finest in the land. Have 'em taken good care of. By Jove!
We're glad to get home once more. You're looking fine, landlord. Have a
cigar?"
He put on a sickly smile, and after lighting a cigar, said he knew we
would come back; and asked how our business was.
We told him it had been a little slack, on account of its being so hard
to get money. We staid there a week longer, and tried every conceivable
plan to force the landlord to ask us for money, but he never mentioned
it during our stay. We sold our team and carriage for three hundred
dollars cash, and put the money in our pockets, without ever mentioning
our hotel bill, or acting as though we considered ourselves his debtors.
Then we made returns to the patentees for their share of the profits on
the sales we had made.
The landlord proved himself the "sort of mettle" for our business; and
at last one day I stepped up to him, reached out my hand, and said:
"Well, landlord, I guess we'll have to leave you for good."
He shook my hand warmly, but looked uneasy and bewildered.
He talked, undertaking to let his conversation drift towards the matter
of our indebtedness. Finally I got the floor, and talked at lightning
speed, paying him so many compliments, in the presence of his guests,
that he was completely non-plussed, and at a loss to know how to act.
Suddenly, seeming to realize that something of much importance had
escaped my memory, I said: "By the way, landlord, we haven't settled our
bill, yet. How much do we owe you? Make out the bill. Mighty lucky I
thought of it."
"By gracious, that's so! That's a fact. You haven't paid your bill yet,
have you? Oh, well, I knew it would be all right, anyhow."
After paying up in full, we received loud praise from him, and his
assurance that the best his house afforded would never be too good for
us, whenever we saw fit to stop with him; and said if we would stay a
week longer he would have cream biscuit every meal.
CHAPTER XIV.
OUR TRIP THROUGH INDIANA--HOW I FOOLED A TELEGRAPH OPERATOR--THE OLD
LANDLORD SENDS RECIPE FOR CREAM BISCUIT--OUR RETURN TO OHIO--BECOMING
AGENTS FOR A NEW PATENT--OUR VALISE STOLEN--RETURN TO FT. WAYNE--WAITING
SIX WEEKS FOR PATENT-RIGHT PAPERS--BUSTED--STAVING OFF THE WASHERWOMAN
FOR FIVE WEEKS--"THE KID" AND 'DE EXCHANGE ACT'--HOW THE LAUNDRY WOMAN
GOT EVEN WITH US--THE LANDLORD ON THE BORROW--HOW WE BORROWED OF
HIM--REPLENISHING OUR WARDROBE--PAYING UP THE HOTEL BILL.
We then made a trip through Indiana, and met with virtually no success
at all; and very soon paid out almost our last dollar for actual
expenses.
One day we had occasion to go to a small station to take the cars for
Fort Wayne, when the telegraph operator left his office for a few
minutes to go after the mail.
I stepped to the instrument, called the Toledo office, and sent a
message to our late landlord at Napoleon, as follows:
"Send to my partner and me two dozen cream biscuit to Fort Wayne,
express prepaid. We need them."
After checking the message _dead head_, signed my name, and returned to
the waiting-room.
When the operator returned, the Toledo office, whose duty it was to
transfer the message to Napoleon, called him up and asked who Johnston
was; and wanted to know further, why his message should be dead-headed.
The operator answered that he knew nothing about it, and didn't think it
was his business to inquire into other people's affairs. They told him
he had better wake up and know what he was doing; and said it was his
duty to collect pay for messages, and not send them for nothing. I
listened attentively to what passed between them; but finally our side
won by his saying that he wanted them to understand he was running that
office himself, and needed no advice.
The next day after reaching Fort Wayne, we received a letter from the
landlord, in which he stated that it would be impossible for him to
send cream biscuit by express, but said: "Please find enclosed the
recipe for making them." We gladly accepted it, and had the pastry cooks
at different hotels make them for us, which greatly pleased every one
else who partook of them, besides ourselves. Later on, I made use of the
recipe by presenting it to my aunt, Mrs. Frances E. Owens, and it has