"I made no answer to this but began packing my grip. The old man tried
to write me so fast that he broke the points off his pencil and the
clerk's. While he sharpened his pencil I kept on packing. He took hold
of my hand and made a curious sign, saying, 'Wait.' But I went right
on until the old man had written: 'Don't pack up. I will buy some
goods from you because I feel sorry for you.'

"'Thank you, sir,' I wrote, 'but I am no charity bird; I want to sell
goods only to those who appreciate my values. Charity orders are
always small ones and a small one will not be sufficient for me to
give you the exclusive sale.' That was a clincher, for when a merchant
sees a good thing he will overbuy, you know, just to keep his
competitor from having a chance at it. I started again packing.

"'I really like your goods and will buy a nice bill if you will sell
no one else in town,' wrote the old man nervously. 'I was only joking
with you.'

"Just as I had finished writing down my order, never having spoken a
word to old Jenkins, a traveling man friend came in and said, in his
presence: 'Hello, Billy! How are you?'

"'Pretty well, thank you,' said I.

"'What! Can you hear and talk?' half yelled the old man.

"'To be sure,' I wrote back, 'but it would have been impolite to talk
to you; because you said, as I drew near the window, you didn't wish
to _listen_ to a traveling man this morning. Thank you for your order.
Good-bye.'