was one of the kind that was always making kicks that he might get a
few dollars rebate. I stood this sort of work for a few seasons but I
finally got tired of it and, besides, I learned that the more I gave
in to him the more I had to yield. A few years ago when I was
traveling in Wisconsin, I went into his store and before he let go of
my hand he began: 'Ah, that last bill was a holy terror. Why doesn't
your house send out good goods? Why, I'll have to sell all those goods
at a loss, and I need them, bad, too. They aint no use of my tryin' to
do no more business with you. I like to give you the business, you
know, but I can't stand the treatment that the house is giving me.
They used to send out part of their goods all right, but here lately
it is getting so that every item is just rotten.'

"I let Sam finish his kick and, as I started out the door I merely
said, 'All right, Sam, I'll see you after awhile and fix this up all
right. I want to go down and work on my samples a little.'

"As I saw him pass on the other side of the street going home to
dinner, I slid up to his store and took all his last shipment from his
shelves and stacked them in the middle of the floor. About the time I
had finished doing this he came back.

"'Why, what are you doing?' said he.

"'Well, I'll tell you, Sam. I don't want you to have anything in the
house that doesn't suit you, and I would a great deal rather than you
would fire all this stuff back to the house. Look up and see the
amount of freight charges you paid on them. Meantime I'll run down to
the hotel and get my book and make you out a check for whatever it
comes to. Come on down to the corner with me anyway, Sam. Let's have a