“See here, young fellow,” he interrupted without giving me a chance to talk, “I don’t want you to bother me. That’s the trouble with you fellows. You just bore the life out of a man. Get out of here as quick as you can.” With that he pointed to the door. “Well, sir,” I said, “I will go. But I did not come up here to sell you anything. I wanted to engage an attorney in a matter that involves a great deal of money. One of the large concerns in your city is about to fail. My brother, who is a jobber in Chicago, has a claim against this firm, and, as I was coming here, he telegraphed me to look after it. I was advised to call on you, and came in with the intention of giving you the case. I am glad I found you out in time. I certainly would not throw a thousand dollars into the hands of a man too ungentlemanly to allow me to state my business. All the time I was speaking he was rubbing his hands together in an excited manner and was ready to apologize, but when done I walked off as rapidly as I could. To this day he is probably regretting the loss of a big fee. I hope so, and that it made him more polite in the future. Shortly after this I called on a colored grocer of the name of White, who was busy with some customers when I entered. Looking up he asked me what line I was in, and I told him, “The Banner Encyclopedia.” “Well,” he said, in a smart-Aleck tone, “I don’t want your ’cyclopedy.” “But I have a special proposition to make and will drop in again when you are not so busy.” “Look heah,” he answered, “yo’ needn’t come ag’in; I kain’t wase no time on you fellows, and I wouldn’t buy books from an agent nohow.” “I am not selling books, sir,” I replied. “I am getting up an encyclopedic directory of prominent business men. But excuse me, Mr. White, I didn’t know the proprietor here was a colored man, and as we don’t care to have niggers in our directory I’ll not bother you any more.” This last remark cut him deeply, but he had insulted me and I felt I had a right to answer him back. I think I showed him the difference between a colored gentleman and a nigger, if he never knew it before. At another time I called on a physician, and when I explained my business he said to me with a pitying smile: “So you are selling books, eh? Well, young man, you have my sympathy. You are the most useless article to be imagined, and you don’t seem to know it.” “Sympathy to the devil,” I exclaimed, angered more by his manner than his words. “Look at me and see if I need your sympathy. Here am I, with a fine tailor-made suit, a fifty dollar overcoat, patent leather shoes, diamonds all over me, traveling over the country, stopping at first-class hotels, having a good time and making money hand over fist. Does that look as though I needed your sympathy?”