The next morning, bright and early, Mr. Smart started out to do business. His first call was on a hardware man with whom he had done considerable business, and from whom he was sure of a warm welcome. He was met by a pleasant young man whose manner seemed to ask, What is your business? He asked for Mr. Braun. Mr. Braun was not down yet but would be in a short time. Would he wait? No; Solomon didn't propose to wait. He was there on business and must attend to his business. Perhaps the young man could wait on him? No, indeed; Solomon didn't come to town to be waited on by clerks. Perhaps he would call again, but he said it with a doubtful tone as if he was not sure that he would patronize a house where the proprietor didn't get around earlier in the morning. Then again he was somewhat indignant that the clerk should not have known him, and when he was asked to leave his name he went off saying it was no matter. Then he called at Sikkor's, wondering if anyone would be in there. Was Mr. Sikkor in? No; did he want to see him personally? Personally! He wanted to see him on business, of course. He would not be at the store that morning, but Mr. Birden was at the desk, yonder, if he would do. Well, it was good to find one proprietor in; and he moved over to Birden's desk, where that gentleman was busy opening the morning's mail. He looked up at the approach of Smart, said “Good morning,” and waited for Solomon to tell his business. “This is Mr. Birden?” “Yes, sir,” pleasantly. Solomon had rather expected him to say, “This is Mr. Smart?” and to hold out his arms, so he was somewhat disconcerted. “I buy goods of your house occasionally.” “Yes? Whereabouts is your place?” “North Portage.” “North Portage, eh? What is the name, please?” “Smart.” “Yes.” Solomon could see that he might as well have said Smith, so far as Birden's seeming to recall it was concerned, and he began to get angry. “How is trade, Mr. Smart?” “Rather dull just at present.” “Sorry to hear that; hope it will improve. You have a memorandum for some of our goods, Mr. Smart? Let me call one of the men to wait on you. Church, look here.” And before Solomon had time to open his mouth he was introduced to Church, who shook hands with him, linked his arm through his, and had him half way to the sample room. They were getting on well till Church asked: “Let me see, Mr. Smart, where is your place?” “North Portage,” said Solomon in his crispest manner. No one seemed to know him, or to remember him five seconds. “Oh, yes; North Portage. Waite goes there. Waite's a good fellow; you like him, don't you?” “I'd like to have him stay at home. I never want to see a drummer.” “Is that so?” and Church looked at him in mild surprise. “Well, what shall we start on first?”