"Glad to see you, old man," replied Jerry, "but I've already got a pencil sharpener. I bought it in Chicago, when I was there some time ago. Very similar to yours, isn't it? Well, how's business?" and we then drifted into general talk. I spent about half an hour with him; but, of course, as he already had a pencil sharpener, I couldn't sell him another one. My next call was on Dunn, who ran a clothing store. I knew Dunn by sight, but I didn't think he knew me. I walked up the three flights and back to the rear of the building, and stopped in front of the railing of his office. I waited for two or three minutes, and then a boy came in and asked me what I wanted. "I want to see Mr. Dunn," I said. "What about?" asked the youngster, rather impudently. "You tell him I'm--" and then I hesitated, and I said to myself that I wouldn't tell him I was Dawson Black. "Tell him that a salesman from Dawson Black wants to see him." A minute or two later the boy returned. "Mr. Dunn says whatdeyuh want ter see him for?" "Tell him I want to show him a new pencil sharpener that we have just got the agency for." I was a little bit exasperated. The young demon grinned and said, "A'right," in a funny manner, marched into the private office and returned, it seemed without pausing, saying: "Nuttin' doin'." I hesitated as to what to do, when he added: "'Tain't no use. Boss got a grouch on this mornin'." I remembered the rude reception I had given the Cincinnati pencil sharpener man when he called on me, and the way he had come back at me, and I said to myself that, if I could only see Dunn then I'd give him the same kind of medicine. While I stood there wondering what to do, my wish was gratified, for Dunn's door flew open, and out he came hurriedly. He was short, stout, red-faced man, almost bald, and has bristling red whiskers. "Oh, Mr. Dunn!" I called. He turned around and snapped: "What do you want?" "I am from Dawson Black's--" "Oh, I know all about that. We don't want any pencil sharpeners. Didn't the boy tell you?" "Yes, but--" "Then what the devil are you waiting for?" I gulped and replied, "Nothing." He turned and walked away. Let me confess it. I was afraid of him! I hate to admit it, but I was. I went down the stairs, feeling like a naughty boy who had been spanked--and yet he was altogether in the wrong! That little experience gave me a lot of sympathy for traveling salesmen, and also made me realize that those salesmen who called on me were bigger men than I was. And I realized that Dunn was a bigger man than I was, in spite of his rudeness. I could no more have answered his insolence, the way Downs answered mine, than I could have flown to the moon. That reception knocked most of the heart out of me, and I wasn't very cheerful when I called on Blickens, the president of the bank. I picked him out because I figured that, at least, he would be civil to me. When I told him what I had come for, he said: