ces, knows his profit on them. "Last Year's Nests" is by a
well-known author, and contains some elements of popularity. The
literary adviser has written a beautiful and scholarly appreciation of
it, one of the lady stenographers has declared it grand, and the
salesman, if he is given to reading anything beyond the title-page,
says it's a corker. He starts out with it; along with a trunkful of
other books, to be sure, but our sympathies are wholly with the
"Nests," and it is only its career that we shall follow.

He may be one of a force of salesmen, each of whom has his own
territory. One may visit only the larger cities, Boston, New York,
Philadelphia, Pittsburg, Chicago; another may take in the smaller
towns along this route; another, the Middle West, Southern or
Southwestern territory. Still another, the cities west of Chicago,
including those on the Pacific coast. Houses publishing competitive
lines and non-copyright books have other methods and machinery for
distribution. I speak only for the copyright salesman, and not to be
too prolix, take only the copyright novel as an illustration of the
day's work.

The salesman arrives at a town, say Chicago. He goes to the hotel,
orders his trunks and sample tables sent to his room. The tables are
set up--well-worn pine boards on trestles and covered with sheeting.
He unpacks his trunk and arranges his books on the tables as
effectively as his artistic sense permits. Then he visits his
customers and makes appointments that cover a full week. Previous to
his arrival his office had informed the booksellers of his coming,
inclosing a catalogue. This the bookseller handed to a clerk to be
marked up. The clerk had gone over their stock of this particular
publisher's books and had marked opposite each title in the catalogue
the number of copies on hand. Armed with this catalogue the bookseller
keeps his appointment at the room of the traveller. [It ought to be
mentioned in passing that this is a purely hypothetical case, invented
for the purposes of illustration. The clerk who marks up the
catalogue in advance of the salesman's arrival is as fictitious as the
bookseller who keeps his appointment promptly. Perhaps this delightful
uncertainty is another of the many influences that make the book
business, from the writing of the manuscript to the reading of the
printed book, so fascinating.]

In the salesman's room the customer examines the new books, asks
questions, hears argum