earth?" asked a Chicago traveler.

Of course they all looked assent.

"Well," said he, "Ed. Smythe told about him the other day, and I know
the man. Ed. had his samples open at the Moody House and called on the
man. Yes, he would go look at them; he wanted a few German goods. He
went there, looked the cards all over (Ed. has three trunks), made a
sheet full of memo's, and said he would write out an order. Ed. called
around about 6 o'clock in the evening. There are two chairs in the
office; the hog sat in one and had his feet in the other; he was
reading a newspaper and kept on reading; Ed. stood around patiently,
as any man can afford to be patient if he is going to get an order. In
the course of half an hour a friend came in and wanted to know of the
hog if he wasn't ready to go somewhere. He jumped up, pushed his books
in the safe, talked to his friend, and ignored Ed. After a while Ed.
said: 'Have you made out your order, Mr. B.?' 'No, sir; I'm not going
to give you an order. I don't intend to buy any more from your house,'
and he walked into Ed. in a way that he evidently thought would
impress his friend that he was a wonderful cuss. Ed. is a good-natured
fellow, and business is business; he didn't open on him then, but he
got even before long. I tell you the smallest man in the world; the
meanest dog in the kennel; the dirtiest whelp I know, is the fellow
who thinks it's brave to abuse a drummer when he has him in his own
store."

This received a universal amen.

"Let me read you a sketch from the _American Grocer_ on 'Smart
Alecks,'" said a man, drawing a copy of that paper out of his pocket.