ession in the market--I thought a man who didnt keep up
with trends and conditions unfitted for a place in the businessworld.
Besides, I didnt expect to be straitened indefinitely and I believed in
being ready to take proper advantage of opportunity when it came.

As a man may devote the graver part of his mind to a subject and then
turn for relaxation to a lighter aspect, so I had for years been
interested in a stock called Consolidated Pemmican and Allied
Concentrates. It wasnt a highpriced issue, nor were its fluctuations
startling. For six months of the year, year in and year out, it would be
quoted at 1/16 of a cent a share; for the other six months it stood at
1/8. I didnt know what pemmican was and I didnt particularly care, but
if a man could invest at 1/16 he could double his money overnight when
it rose to 1/8. Then he could reverse the process by selling before it
went down and so snowball into fortune. It was a daydream, but a
harmless one.

Satisfying myself Consolidated Pemmican was bumbling along at its low
level, I reluctantly prepared to resume Miss Francis' pump. It seemed
less heavy as I wound the hose over my shoulder and I felt this wasnt
due to the negligible quantity I'd expended on Mrs Dinkman's grass. I
just knew I was going to have a successful day. I had to.

In moments of fancy I often think a salesman is more truly a creative
artist than many of those who arrogate the title to themselves. He uses
words, on one hand, and the receptivity of prospects on the other, to
mold a cohesive and satisfying whole, a work of Art, signed and dated on
the dotted line. Like any such work, the creation implies thoughtful and
careful preparation. So it was that I got off the bus, polishing a new
salestalk to fit the changed situation. "One of your neighbors ..." "I
have just applied ..." I sneered my way past those houses refusing my
services the day before; they couldnt have the Metamorphizer at any
price now. Then it hit my eyes.

Mrs Dinkman's lawn, I mean.

The one so neglected, ailing and yellow only yesterday.

It wasnt sad and sickly now. The most enthusiastic homeowner wouldnt
have disdained it. There wasnt a single bare spot visible in the whole
lush, healthy expanse. And it was green. Green. Not just here and there,
but over every inch of soft, undulating surface; a pale applegreen where
the blades waved to expose its underparts and a rich, dazzling emerald
on top. Even the runners, sinuously