Part 1

_Letters from An Old Time Salesman to His Son_

_By R. L. James_

_General Sales Manager, Libby, McNeill & Libby_

Chicago and New York THE DARTNELL CORPORATION 1922

Published by The Dartnell Corporation Dartnell Building Ravenswood and Leland Avenues Chicago, Illinois

All privileges of reproducing illustrations or letter press expressly reserved by the publishers

Copyright 1922 in the United States, Canada and Great Britain

R. L. JAMES Chicago

Printed by The Dartnell Press

CONTENTS

PAGE The Boy Starts Out--Green and Gullible But Full of Pep 9 The Boy Writes That He Has Arrived as a “Regular” Salesman 13 The Boy Thinks the House Should Accept Cancellations 17 The Boy Has Been Promoted to a “Special” Salesman 21 Dad Gives the Boy Some Sound Advice Regarding Team Work 25 The Boy Is Having His Troubles as a Branch Manager 31 Dad Tells the Boy Why It Pays to Advertise 37 Dad Counsels the Boy to Throw Away His Knickers and Put on Long Pants 43 The Boy Has Begun to Solicit Dad's Counsel 49 The Boy Has Told Dad of His Latest Pet “Peeve” 55 The Boy Has Met the Girl--He Sounds Dad Out on Matrimony 61 The Boy Has Been Bragging a Little 67 Dad Warns of the Evil Spirit That Whispers “You Haven't Time” 75 The Boy Is Given an Unfailing Formula for Landing a Bigger Job 81 Hal Is District Manager Now--His Problem Is Winning the Respect of Men 87 Dad Drops in on a Branch Manager and Finds the Spirit of the Time 93 The Boy Gets a Chance to See Himself as Others See Him 99 Dad Tips Off the Boy to a New Job 105 Dad Gets a Lesson from a Trip to the Farm 111 Dad Takes an Interest in the Boy's Big Sales Contest 117 Dad Surrenders When the Boy Lands the Big Job 123

_The Story Behind These Letters_

The most refreshing thing about these letters is that they are real letters, written by a real salesman to a real son. Therein they differ from so many books of this character. There is a certain satisfaction in knowing that what you are reading was written by a man who has been through the mill.

Another refreshing thing about these letters is that they were not written for publication. The motive behind them is an interesting one. Mr. James began his business career as a salesman, calling on the retail trade in small towns. Shortly after a son came to bless his home--a red-headed boy who was christened “Hal.” Like all men who make a success of their profession, Mr. James believed in his work and his dreams of the future for his son always pictured the boy as a traveling salesman. As the boy grew and developed traits of character, what was more natural than that his dad, who shared the boy's problems, should visualize his son with these same peculiar traits running afoul of the same pitfalls and snags that beset the path of every young man in sales work? What was more natural than that he should try to impart to his boy the secrets of his success as a salesman and manager of salesmen, so that the son might use the father's achievement as a short cut?

Through some underground avenue, best known to himself, it came to the attention of the editor of the Libby house-organ that Mr. James--then a department manager--was writing a series of most interesting human letters to his boy. After much persuasion Mr. James agreed to the anonymous publication of these letters--with deletions of a personal character--in the Libby salesman's bulletin. For two years the letters of an old time salesman to his son were the most eagerly read feature of one of the most readable of salesmen's publications.

After the letters had run the gamut from salesman to general sales manager, during the writing of which the author himself had risen to the position of General Sales Manager of his Company, they came to an end. That they had exerted a powerful influence in moulding the character of every Libby salesman there can be no question. No man could read the letters without being the better for having done so. And I feel that Mr. James in permitting the publication of them in book form, so that the message they carry may be spread out beyond the limited confines of the Libby organization and conveyed to every man who sells things, has taken a big step toward fulfilling the obligation which every man owes to his profession. If every salesman could read this book it would do more for the cause of better, cleaner salesmanship than any other one thing.

J. C. ASPLEY, _Editor, “Sales Management Magazine.”_

THE TRAVELING MAN

How many of you remember the golden days of yore When you were an uncouth urchin hanging 'round the village store, When the loafers saved the country--changed the tariff every day 'Mid the fumes of various mixtures of tobacco-labeled hay, How you forgot the colored candles and the tempting cookie can When the door was quickly opened and in walked the Traveling Man.

'Member how some way or other conversation seemed to stop, When he opened up his samples and your eyes would fairly pop At experiences he related as he took his order down, Talked about a three-ring circus--he was better than a clown, How you wondered and you worshiped and resolved to break each ban That would keep you from becoming, some day too, a Traveling Man.

Never seemed he ever worried, life to him was always bright For you'd seen him in the morning and you'd seen him late at night: Altho' he was always working you could always see his smile Wasn't put on--just came natural, catchy, bubbling all the while; You resolved to be just like him, now deny it if you can, Your day dreams were filled with longing just to be a Traveling Man.

Years have passed--you've lived to see all your boyhood dreams come true And now you're doing daily all the things he used to do; Now you know he had his troubles which he smiled thru right along, But it makes your memory dearer--that his life was not all song; And like him you keep a-hustling, glad that you have joined the clan That begets true admiration--Here's to you, A Traveling Man!

--R. L. James

_The Boy Starts Out--Green and Gullible But Full of Pep_

Dear Hal:

Your letter written as you had just finished your first week as a cub salesman was received and I've enjoyed reading it over, two or three times, because it brings out the fact that after all, the game doesn't change a great deal in fundamentals since the time I used to beat the brush.

I notice that you're impressed with the fact that it was pretty easy for the regular salesman Ryan to sell goods, and that you think he's a wonderful salesman. Now, of course, I never met Ryan and I don't doubt from what you say that he is fairly popular with the trade, knows the line and is a hard worker, but from some of the things you say, I'm not exactly sure that Ryan is the man who wrote the first book on salesmanship, but, of course, I may be mistaken. With all due respect to Ryan, you must remember that your company was manufacturing and marketing food products long before Ryan was strong enough to shake a rattle.

Now, I'm not trying to belittle the honest sales effort of yourself or your friend Ryan in the least, but I just want to be sure that you appreciate the fact that your success last week wasn't due 100 per cent to the siren voice of your salesmanship, but that a great big piece of credit was due to the solid foundation on which you were building your sales.

I notice you sort of “bragged” over the fact that you sold only the _best merchants_ in each town and those who were capable of giving orders worth while. If I had to take my choice between five nice new ten dollar bills and five old ragged ones, why, of course, I'd choose the crinkly kind, but if there wasn't any law against my getting both piles, I don't think I'd be so particular, because it has been my experience that the ragged ones can be changed into just as many dimes and quarters as the new ones, and either one is acceptable to the receiving teller when you pass the little black book under the wicket on Saturday.

Now the matter of choice in selling retailers is just the same. With a line like your company has, in the first place you should attempt to place it in a big way in the best stores in the town, but there isn't any game law against selling it to the little fellow around the corner, is there? Nobody in “the house” ever told you to beware of selling the small merchant, did they? You bet they didn't! In fact, every successful business has been founded on the small customer, who afterward grew into the big one. You know when Marshall Field first started in business his store didn't cover a city block, but I suppose there were some two and three-quarters per cent salesmen in those days who thought Field's business was too small to bother with, but if any of those salesmen are still living you can probably find them now acting as a nurse-girl to a wheezy taxicab.

Notice you say Ryan told you the reason he didn't call on some merchants was because there was no use--they couldn't be sold. I'll never forget, the fellow who broke me in as a salesman told me the same thing my first week as we were getting off a train in a little Missouri town that had only two stores in it. He said that the one customer we sold there was the much better merchant of the two and it was no use to go near the other one.

Well, I believed him, and made my one call in the town regularly and received the one order and thought I was doing pretty well until one day, when I called, my customer informed me that he had just sold out to the other merchant across the street and that henceforth there would be only one store there.

Of course, I went over and tried to sell the other fellow, but he naturally wondered why I'd never called before and I didn't have any very good answer. The result was that I was beaten by my own stupidity and I had to call on that fellow for six months before I ever scratched an order book.

Now that is only one of many instances I could tell you, but I've found that there is one thing that, as a salesman, you must never take another man's word for and that is that So-and-So across the street, or around the corner, will not buy. I've always found it a safe rule to call on every man who had his door unlocked and the worst thing that ever happened to me in applying the rule, was to get an occasional turn-down, while I have had the surprise of my life many times, to see what big orders you could get out of a little store.

The longer you sell goods, the more you'll realize that it's a battle from start to finish, but just take it from the old man that you'll have more luck capturing an increase in salary at the end of the year with a whole army of little dough-boy customers on your list than you will by trying to impress the boss with a giant named Goliath who is a single-footer.

Your loving, “DAD.”

_The Boy Writes That He Has Arrived as a “Regular” Salesman_

Dear Hal:

Your mother and I have just finished reading your last letter, and while I realize that you may be getting pretty well fed up on my letters, I cannot help commenting on some of the things you have written about.

I imagine it is just about as much fun for you to get one of my letters as holding a horse in a rain. You probably look on them as containing the proverbial “good advice.” I can almost hear you saying more men have starved to death on good advice than were ever killed on the field of battle.

All of that I'll admit, but words from an old traveler of the road you've just started on is a good deal like castor oil--you kick up a lot of fuss if you have to take it when you're young, but as you grow older you realize that it didn't hurt you a bit and in most cases prolonged the life of your “engine.”

I notice that you have gone just far enough in the selling game to discover that your goods are higher priced than every competitor's; the merchants overloaded; business on the bum; the office manager a crab; the credit man hard-boiled and the plant unappreciative of what a salesman is up against.

Well--now, isn't that just too bad! But doesn't it occur to you that with everything so badly messed up, it is strange that the firm continues to worry along and pay dividends on its stock, year after year? Of course, the buyer tells you your prices are too high--otherwise he wouldn't be the buyer, but would more probably be rolling barrels of salt around in the basement for a living--you don't expect him to ask you to add a little to the price, do you? And man alive!--if the goods would sell themselves your company could replace you with a post-card.

Last, but not least, they thought best to hire a 1922 model eight-cylinder salesman, like you (you scamp) instead of trying to get by with a two-cylinder flivver that isn't a self-starter.

Business is bum, eh? I'm sorry you told me because that's the cry of the quitter and I hate to think you would make a phonograph record of yourself. Business is bad for some people all the time and similarly, business is good for others most of the time. Now I'm willing to admit, understand, that there are business lulls in all lines, but if you'll trace back the origin of that expression, I'll wager you'll find the thought was first expressed by one of those hotel lobby lizards who got used to the buyer hunting him up during the recent period of big demand and small supply. To the fellow who really loves the game (and if you don't you shouldn't be in it) the changed conditions, or the lull, if you prefer that name, only means more “turndowns” which can be overcome by “more calls” and at the end of the day, he finds he's been too busy to notice that lull and his order-book may reflect smaller orders, but gee--he's got a lot of 'em!

And the office Manager's a crab; and the credit man hard-boiled;--well now, what do you think of that! Of course, the Office Manager should be a mind-reader and overlook it when you send in claims without the proper information, or reports only half-filled out, but somehow or other he isn't--no, he's just human like all the rest of us--has a lot to do and the company don't pay him for “guessing” at things you do.

The credit man is another good friend and a salesman's safety valve. Both of 'em are the easiest men in the world to get popular with, but you have to do your share and come clean. Sloppy reports and incorrect information may be the easiest way out for the moment, but they never fool these “watch dogs of the exchequer,” and after all, if it were not for them, your pay check wouldn't come out so regularly.

Now you're wrong again, when you think the plant superintendent doesn't appreciate your problems. He gives them really more thought than you do, for you have only one house to work with, while he has to try to answer the demands of six hundred salesmen.

Now, Old Top, I expect you think I have stepped on you pretty hard in this letter, but I haven't intended to. If you weren't my own boy, I imagine I'd expect less of you, but it's pretty hard for the old man, knowing that a great big red-headed human dynamo, with hair on his upper lip, would bear even the earmarks of a whiner, not to appeal to your better judgment by making fun of the petty trials that every red-blooded salesman has gone through and graduated from, just like you got over the nursing bottle, measles and mumps.

But, anyway--read this letter twice, then remember, I'm laying a little bet on you and am anxious to get your next letter.

Your loving, “DAD.”

_The Boy Thinks the House Should Accept Cancellations_

Dear Hal:

For the past few months I have allowed your mother to do all the letter-writing from this end; in fact, Mother has become a pretty important factor around here since she has been given the vote. She insists that the home be in her name and my insurance in her name, so I've consented, and further allowed her to carry my religion in her name.

My chief reason for not writing sooner is that I wanted to wait until you had graduated into a “jobbing” salesman, because I knew you would eventually do so, and that with the new job would come new problems to talk about.

Yes, the jobbing game is quite a little different from selling the retailer, and I am glad to note that you have already found that the average jobber buyer is generally a pretty thorough business man, quite cold and calculating, and is more susceptible to quality and price than he is to a salesman's personality, funny stories or the odor of “moonshine.”

Note you say you think that your company is making a mistake in not accepting cancellations of contracts with certain of their jobbing customers who have been pretty hard hit on sugar declines, and that you're afraid your company will not do much business with those customers again, on account of refusing to “accommodate” them.

Say--Boy--just how do you get that way?

You think your company should bear “part” of the load, eh? You know one trouble with you aggressive, red-blooded, two-fisted “kids” (as you'll always be to me, Red) is that you don't look backward or forward far enough.

Now let's look back a little. 'Way back last Spring your company came out with their opening prices on the goods they sell for Fall Delivery. On account, primarily, of the experience of the Wholesale Grocers over a long period of years, these jobbers bought, and why? Because they wanted to assure themselves of your company's quality and against the possibility of an advance in cost after the goods were packed. That was their reason and now, why did your company contract? Because they wanted to assure themselves of a market for a certain per cent of their pack so that their operations would not be so speculative.

You know, no business that is purely speculative is fundamentally sound.

Now this contract arrangement between your company and the jobber was not philanthropic on either side. For years this custom has existed in the industry and has been found to be fashioned along the lines of sound economics. It is not a one-sided proposition by any means, for, if it were, it would not have obtained over all these years. Sometimes it has worked to the advantage of the canners, but just as often it has worked to the advantage of the jobber, depending entirely on conditions beyond the control of either. While both canners and jobbers may have been laying up treasures in heaven for years, neither has so far had sufficient prestige with the management to cause the rain, sun and frost to act just right for the proper development of fruit and vegetables, but under the contract system, both are protected as far as possible to be fair to both parties.

Now, Red, remember the entire commercial fabric of our nation is built up on confidence, and confidence can obtain only just so long as the integrity of the business world is maintained by the recognition of the validity of a contract entered into in good faith between buyers and sellers.

All right--now this year, as usual, after making these contracts with their wholesale grocer friends, your company invested its money in tin cans, sugar, boxes, other supplies and materials, contracted for acreage, labor and everything else, bought a large amount of their supplies long before they really needed them, but they must necessarily take no chances on failure. They borrowed money at prevailing high rates to finance it.

Now listen, son, do you remember when you were about nine years old, you wanted me to buy you a shot gun and a lot of other fool-killer arrangements, and you thought I was awfully hard-hearted because I wouldn't get 'em for you? I would have liked to have gratified your desires, but, boy--it wasn't good business. So, also, the cancellations--your company would like to “accommodate” their friends by canceling their contracts if it would help them, but it isn't good business. If they did so, they would be morally bound to cancel every contract, if requested, because they should not do it for a few unless willing to do it for all--they must treat all alike.

You know, everyone admires liberality, and similarly, most people like to be liberal, but don't get away from the fact that in business you can be liberal only up to a certain point, and after that it becomes damfoolishness; and don't worry about losing the friendship of the customer requesting cancellation. Any business man will admire you for being a business man instead of a jelly-fish. He knows he has no good business reason for expecting you to cancel and, son, you'll always make more friends than enemies when you've the nerve to stand up under fire when you're in the right.

Your loving, “DAD.”

_The Boy Has Been Promoted to a “Special” Salesman_

Dear Hal:

Yes, I will admit that it begins to look like I never write you any more except when you get a promotion, but I wouldn't advise you to figure on that too closely, because sometimes I'm liable to fool you.

As a matter of fact I'm not much for writing letters except when I have something to say, and when you were a little fellow I found that while you were susceptible to suggestions and advice, you were very quick to resent overdoses, so I've come to look on my letters a good deal like beef extract--a little of it in a whole cup of hot water is a nice thing, but no one relishes the idea of consuming a sixteen-ounce jar at one sitting.

I was interested in your announcement that you had been appointed a “special representative” and will travel out of Chicago doing missionary work. I wonder if you used that word “missionary” advisedly, or if it merely dropped out as a careless expression. Regardless of that, I'm sure you used the right word, for as I understand it, that's just exactly what a “special representative” should be, but I am wondering if you are sure you really understand the full meaning of the word.

The usual adaptation of the word “missionary” as used in business circles is, “one who is sent out to generate, extend and foster business and all things pertaining thereto, on a certain product.”

Now, the same relative difference exists between a salesman and a “special representative” as does between a common or garden variety of preacher and a missionary, but the big trouble is a great many people fail to analyze that difference, which accounts for so many failures in the ranks of special representatives and church missionaries.

Now, if you'll go to the trouble to drop around theoretically, to a “Home for Indigent (sounds like ‘indiligent,’ don't it?) Business and Religious Missionary Failures,” you'd find after talking with Exhibit A and B their ideas of a missionary are a sort of a combination hand-shaking, chicken-eating, solicitous, dignified, well-dressed hombre, who sort of exhaled good will and felicitations, who didn't have any duties in particular, but just traveled around “for the good of the cause.” And, of course, it goes without saying that that's the reason why they're inmates of the Home.

It's true that a missionary is a sort of supersalesman, but it means “salesman plus” rather than “graduate salesman.”