Dawson Black: Retail Merchant Part 37

They didn't leave anything undone. They didn't make any false moves; while I--I was almost a joke!

CHAPTER x.x.xII

SOME IDEAS ON WINDOW Tr.i.m.m.i.n.g

We had been increasing our sales on men's toilet articles, and were selling anywhere from $5.00 to $10.00 worth of those goods a week. Mind you, not razors, but soap, and talc.u.m powder, and such-like.

La.r.s.en had been studying a book on window tr.i.m.m.i.n.g, and had learned that there were two ways of tr.i.m.m.i.n.g windows. One way was to put in a lot of goods that were a.s.sociated with each other, and another was to put in just one cla.s.s of goods to make a forceful appeal. So, La.r.s.en conceived the idea of a special window trim, using the second idea. We had been in the habit of mixing a number of different kinds of goods in our window.

His idea was just the opposite.

The display was to be of the Middle's razor, which I sold exclusively in our town, and which I thought was the best of all the dollar razors.

Well, La.r.s.en started to tell me his idea; but I told him to go ahead and work it out in his own way.

He got some cheap, dark-blue cloth, and hung it in a semi-circle in the window from top to bottom. Then he covered the floor of the window with the same material. He then got a piece of cardboard and bent it into the shape of a cone about 2 ft. 6 in. at the base, and not above half an inch at the top. This he also covered with the same cloth, placing it in the center of the window. About a foot above the cone he hung a single electric bulb, with a shade over it made of cardboard, and again covered with the cloth. The light was therefore directed full on the top of the cone, and the bulb itself was out of sight. There was no other light in the window. On the apex of the cone he placed one Middle's razor--not in the box--oh, no. He took the razor out of the box, fitted a blade into it and rested it on the top of the cone. On the floor, resting against the cone, was a card which read as follows:

This is the Middle's Razor--the safety razor that really shaves. It is quick, clean, and comfortable to use. I consider this razor such good value that one is sufficient to fill the window. One dollar each.

Come inside and I'll tell you why A Middle's Razor you should buy.

--DAWSON BLACK.

When I saw that window it looked to me like a joke. My looks evidently indicated that to La.r.s.en. I had never been much of a believer in stunts for window tr.i.m.m.i.n.g. I had thought it better to have people come into the store and buy something, than just say what a clever window display we had--and walk by. I was standing outside the window, looking at it, when La.r.s.en joined me.

"You don't like it, no?"

"Well," I said, "it looks to me too--oh, what's the word I want?--oh, you know what I mean--too smart-alecky!" We both laughed. "It isn't dignified enough, you know."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I WAS STANDING OUTSIDE THE WINDOW"]

"Say, Boss," said La.r.s.en, and then he couldn't continue on account of a coughing spell. Poor old La.r.s.en. For several weeks he hadn't been feeling right. He had caught a hard cold and wouldn't rest, and it didn't seem to get any better. It had worried me sometimes, because he wasn't as young as he used to be. I suggested to him that he lay off work for a little while, but he wouldn't hear of it.

When he had recovered from his coughing spell, he said:

"Say, Boss, that book on window tr.i.m.m.i.n.g. It say trim with one line of goods. All razors, or all scissors, make folks stop. If a lot make 'em stop, just one by itself will. Folks'll come across the road to see what it is."

Well, we used the window trim as it was, except that, at the last minute, we changed the sign.

"Do you remember that pencil sharpener salesman that came here?" I asked La.r.s.en. "Remember him telling us about that sale of women's hats, where they could get in only by ticket?"

"No."

"Well, it was a Chicago store. They sold women's hats. On certain days you could get into the store only by ticket, and the store was swamped with people then, because--oh, I don't know why, but they thought that they were favored by getting the ticket. Why not put on the sign that these razors won't be sold until Sat.u.r.day?"

"That's good. But nothing special here-- No new style like in women's hats."

"Well," I said, defending my idea, "the drug stores sell regular candy, special on Sat.u.r.day."

"Yep, but they give special price. We ain't cutting it."

Then La.r.s.en forgot himself and slapped me on the back, saying: "I got it, Boss. Put this razor on sale Friday and Sat.u.r.day only, and give a can of shaving powder to each customer!"

"Heavens, no! Shaving powder sells for 25 cents."

"It costs us only twelve. Razor and soap together don't cost a dollar.

We make profit on it, and--and--they buy more powder soon."

Well, we did it; we added to the sign: "To every purchaser of a Middle Razor, Friday and Sat.u.r.day only, will be given a can of Dulcet Shaving Powder."

I wanted to put a can of the powder in the window as well, but La.r.s.en was against it; and, as it was his show, I let him have his own way with it.

"How many of the razors have we in stock?" I asked.

"We got three dozen last week. We ain't broke the package yet."

"Oh, that'll be plenty," I said. . . .

By ten thirty Friday morning we had sold every Middle's Razor in stock, and I had telegraphed for six dozen more to come by express. As they were made in this State, they should arrive the first thing in the morning. By Friday night I had orders for sixty-four razors,--and I also had had to telegraph for more shaving powder. Well, up to closing time on Sat.u.r.day, we had sold a hundred and fifty-nine Middle's razors! We couldn't supply them, of course, although the six dozen we had ordered came in time, so we merely took orders on Friday afternoon and Sat.u.r.day, and promised to deliver the razors as soon they came. In practically every case, however, we had got the money.

Think of it, a hundred and fifty-nine razors in our town. I couldn't understand why so many people bought them. Also, it had been a revelation to me to find how many women had come in for this bargain offer. Two or three people had come on Thursday to buy it, but we wouldn't sell them. That window certainly had attracted a lot of attention, particularly at night. There had been a number of people around it all the time.

Poor La.r.s.en collapsed altogether from the strain of the two busy days, and had to place himself under the doctor's care.

The next evening I called at the doctor's and he said that La.r.s.en had really a serious illness.

"You don't mean," I said, "that there is any chance that he will--"

The doctor was silent for a minute, pursed his lips, then said slowly: "I don't know. It would not be a serious thing for a young man, but he is not a young man, and he is poorly nourished."

La.r.s.en's absence certainly made Jones and Jimmie and me hustle. In the first place I had to take out that window trim of the Middle's Razor, for, as our sale was over, we did not want to keep the display going. In fact, when I went to see old La.r.s.en, sick as he was, his first weak remark had been, "You took the trim out, Boss?" I told him yes, and added that we had a fine display of enamelware in its place. Mrs. La.r.s.en told me that he had been worrying all day. He seemed a bit easier when I left.

The whole week was a week of trouble. On Tuesday morning Henderson was driving his car past the store and frightened Haywood's old horse (poor thing, I never thought he could move so quickly) so that he bolted and ran his foolish old head through the store window--just after I had my nice display of enamelware ready. It cost me over thirty dollars to get it put right.

I met old Barlow at the elite Restaurant that day and he remarked, "Makes it quite inconvenient doesn't it? Have you telephoned the insurance people about it yet?"

"Insurance people?"

"Yes, plate-gla.s.s insurance people."

I felt the color surging into my face as I answered, "Why, no, I haven't got around to it yet."

As a matter of fact, I didn't even know I could insure my plate-gla.s.s windows. It was another loss I had to bear just because of my ignorance.

There was one funny little incident in connection with the broken window-pane, however, and it came from Jimmie. When I got back to the store, that freckled-face rascal said, "Gee, Boss, I've got a whale of an idea!"

"What is it?" I asked.