In taking orders I always gave the customer a duplicate slip of his contract. This, among other conditions, stated that articles were to be delivered according to agreement with the agent, who had positive instructions to make no misrepresentations, and that a countermand would not be received under any circumstances; that any failure to deliver would be charged up against me. You see, this duplicate was a great ice breaker when I called around with my pictures or books and expected the money. Occasionally I ran across an individual who would try to back out. In such a case I would insist on leaving the article anyway, and would say, “Oh, that’s all right. If you can’t conveniently spare the money now I will call around and see you again before I leave town. You can pay me then.” Without waiting for an answer I would turn on my heel and walk rapidly away. The next day I would call again. If the money was still slow to come I would say, “I will call tomorrow morning and I wish you would please have the amount ready for me then. I want to leave by an afternoon train.” If I called the third time and found no money I would rise in my wrath—real or pretended as the case might be—and call his attention to every clause in the duplicate contract he held. If that would not win him over I would wind up with a tongue lashing and perhaps threaten to have him arrested. I most generally brought an unwilling customer to time by the third visit, though, of course, there were cases in which no plan would win. Sometimes I would succeed by arousing sympathy, where no other method would have been of any effect. I would argue that a man had no right to order an article, and put one to a great expense and loss of time, unless he expected to accept and pay for it when delivered. In traveling with the troupe I found far less trouble in making deliveries and collections than I had done when by myself. The whole business was such a public affair, and delivery and collection followed so soon after the order was given, that few thought of refusal. A large proportion of the orders were secured in the public hall, the rest being obtained in canvasses made by members of the troupe during the day time. They were also supposed to do their own delivering and collecting, though I was often called in to attend to difficult or delicate cases. By the way, to show you that the life of a fakir is not all devoted to business, but that it has also its romantic side, I may as well introduce a little occurrence which happened under my observation during the season that my company was on the road.