OUR CANDY SALES

In contemplating the matter of increasing our sales, I got to thinking about candy. Here was a line with a possible turnover of the Lord knows what. I decided to concentrate our efforts on it for a time and see what might be the result.

We handle two reliable brands of package goods which each manufacturer stands behind. There can be no waste or dead stock.

Now it occurred to me that a good way to get the people to buy candy was through the moving picture theater. Most everybody goes to the movies. So I had some coupons printed which read like this on one side:

By RALPH BROADBENT,

With Smith & Smith & McSween, Ionia, Michigan

But it seems to me that those who patronize a theater of this class can't get away from it. They'll read what is flashed on the screen, at any rate, for there is nothing else for them to do.

Now for results. It makes no difference how neat, clean, and modern a store you have or what kind of a salesman you are, people must be first attracted to your store. They must be brought into your place of business. before you can sell them anything. Once they are there, your opportunity is at hand.

I realized this fully, and when people brought in their tickets we got after them promptly and courteously. We made an extra effort to impress the quality of our service We tried to be a little more upon them. prompt and a little more courteous than we had ever been before, and tried to excel in these particulars the service that customers might get in any other place in town.

The movie slides were run Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, thus allowing the people until Saturday night to bring in their tickets; and we advertised thoroughly that on Saturday at 8 P.M. the lucky number would be made known. We asked that every ticket holder be present.

I

Of course we fixed up our store to the best advantage. We had neat, tempting displays of candy which were intended to emphasize and crystallize the advertising campaign. have never known so much talk and interest to be created by so small a cost. Boys and girls particularly were enthusiastic. On Saturday nights children brought their parents, and the store was crowded, I assure you.

I distributed 1500 coupons, costing two and a half dollars. By actual computation 85 per cent of that number were brought into the store. We met this number of customers personally-counting the coupons told the tale. Our candy sales were increased 100 per cent. Not so bad, we think.

A "REDEEMING STATION."*
BY A MICHIGAN DRUGGIST.

My first bunch of ozone was acquired a number of years ago through a "piano contest." The notes were duly paid, the account fully squared, and one would have thought that a man who had paid out three hundred and fifty good round dollars for a piano worth half a hundred would have known enough to have kept away from any more such deals. However, business was slow. Ordinary advertising didn't seem to better it, and my competitors were all running some catchpenny scheme. My brains got to working overtime automatically, it seemed. I wanted to find a way to beat them with their own

weapon.

So it came about I was a very soft material for anybody who would come along and be able to show me how to double my sales without digging too deeply into my meager bank account and all this in spite of the fact that the old piano deal still clung to my mind like a burr to a dog's tail.

And just at the psychological moment I got a letter from a concern which I shall rename the "Consolidated Retail Merchants' Association;" habitat, Detroit, U. S. A. The correspondence was typed on very flashy stationery, and the word "coöperation" stuck out boldly in big type in their "coat of arms."

This team-work-the coöperation-would be between the manufacturer, the jobber, the retailer, and the consumer, a feature that at once arrested my attention.

A POWERFUL IMPRESSION.

The next catch-phrase was "An opportunity for you exclusively." That "exclusive" stuff has never failed to make a powerful impression

on me.

The proposition was such that I felt it could not be passed up without further investigation, so I inquired in Detroit about the firm and

*This paper was awarded the first prize, $15.

found out that it really existed and had an office in a tall building.

After this I wrote them that I was willing to negotiate with their representative, and that if we could agree I might be induced to permit the installation of what they called a "redeeming station" in my store.

It did not take the representative long to appear on the scene. One day a swagger-looking gentleman with a big portmanteau under his arm came in and introduced himself as Mr. Blain, of the C. R. M. A. He at once opened a bombardment of sharp-pointed words, every one of which lodged in my trade-hungry brain. Then he pulled up his heavy artillery.

They were going to advertise my store in every known possible way. My place of business was going to be headquarters during an aggressive campaign. All coupons were to be redeemed over my counter, and every week a prize consisting of $5.00 worth of merchandise would be given to the holder of the largest number of coupons. They were to mail a check to cover this amount right along, and lo and behold! at the end of 26 weeks a 1916model five-passenger gas car worth $750 would be given through me, free of charge, to the lucky top-notcher!

This one feature alone-the gift automobile -would eclipse anything that had ever been pulled off in our city!

in which event the company would be put to the expense of securing a new "redeeming station."

I suggested that I be permitted to pay half of the sum at once and the balance in 60 days. But no; there was no choice. All or nothing. "Well," I said, "I cannot give my check for more than half, but if you will take my note for the balance, I can manage it."

He accepted this offer and the contract was signed. With the check and the note in his pocket he left, and I thought I had made a fine deal.

And then I fell to dreaming-dreaming of how my store would be held in the spotlight for 26 consecutive weeks, and what an enormous increase there was bound to be in my sales. I saw my competitors fading away to nothing, and started to figure out what I should do with the cash that was going to pour into my till.

It was a lucky thing, I thought, that this big concern had picked my store, and I congratulated myself that I had waited for this wave of prosperity and not jumped at something less meritorious.

WATCHFUL WAITING.

Franchise No. 1086 was granted to me, and all I had to do was to wait till the big boom would start. I kept quiet and waited.

Then I waited some more.

The time for the start passed and nothing happened.

Then I got a little restless and was going to inquire when they would be ready; but before I had time to do this the mail brought a registered letter from an attorney in Detroit. This letter contained my note for $62.50, which I had given to Mr. Blain, together with the information that the great C. R. M. A. was hopelessly bankrupt.

The secretary, I was told, had absconded; and with him had gone most of the assets! I was advised to make out a proof of claim and to grant power of attorney for the lawyer who wrote me. This I did, hoping to get back at least a part of the remaining $62.50.

Then I waited again, getting in the end a measly 4 per cent. I got a little satisfaction from reading in the papers that the secretary had been brought back and dealt with according to law, though. I think he got five years in the penitentiary.

And what did I get? I got $62.50 worth of experience-minus 4 per cent.

I got a hunch, too, that this would be the last time I would pay money to a stranger before he delivered the goods. But I had made that resolution before!

One consolation was that I had kept everything quiet, so that very few outsiders knew anything about my little flier in blue sky.

OIL AND OTHER THINGS.*

BY AN OKLAHOMA DRUGGIST.

Investments made by people in all walks of life in that nebulous article slangily referred to as "blue sky" always make interesting reading; therefore the experiences of druggists who have been fortunate enough to accumulate sufficient funds to buy a slice or two of blue dome ought to be greedily devoured.

The writer became a purchaser of this fluffy commodity at a very tender age. His first venture was back in Illinois, when a student. He bought, in company with another luckless student, a county right to put weather strips on the domiciles of the agricultural folks in the central part of that splendid commonwealth.

We gave the promoter twenty-five dollars. for the privilege of doing the hardest summer's work I ever did in my life. My partner was a fair mechanic, and I did the talking.

I have always had a doubt as to whether our work came up to details and specifications, but my partner collected the money and divided honestly with me.

I never called on any of those farmers afterward, having heard some disquieting rumors, and a few real personal criticisms.

A few years after this I found myself established in a good little Kansas town, during the "boom days." Now at this particular time the promoter of new town sites was probably the busiest individual in the whole world. He would plat a city and sell all the lots in from twenty minutes to three days.

BOULEVARD RESIDENCE SITES.

Well, I invested in a few corner lots and some boulevard residence sites in a place I shall call Wealthy City, because that was not

*The man in Oklahoma was awarded the second prize, $10.

its name. The railroad was graded into the town, and the head promoter (Smith!) assured all of us that in a few months the place would be the metropolis of a large and productive section; but-well, the railway changed its route and left Wealthy City miles off the right of way.

The last time I looked at this spot, a stolid German farmer was mowing alfalfa where the First National bank was to have been built on my corner, and the boulevard residence sites had been merged into a cow pasture.

I pass over the next few years with only casual recollections of minor purchases. The salesmen with brand-new popular remediesone gross for $72.50, freight paid and a clock thrown in-these were only the small, petty larceny kind, as compared with the buccaneer methods of the larger promoter.

Then I came to Oklahoma.

Gentle reader, did you ever meet an oil promoter who was really equipped to do business? If you have not, don't make yourself any rash promises as to what you are going to do, or not going to do, with that small "wad" reposing peacefully in the savings bank.

I have known men who had through a lifetime of patient toil and persistent parsimony acquired a reputation that would seem to render them invulnerable; men who would turn down patent rights-lightning-rod, churn, and automatic gate-as easily as a dog will dodge a snowball. But when the real thing in the person of an Oil Promoter unrolled his blueprints and began to talk of sin-clines and anticlines, of Mississippi lime and the cone-formation-these men would stand spellbound until awakened by the promoter showing them where to hurriedly scrawl their names on the dotted line.

Yes, I bought some oil stock in a field where I was assured that it was an utter impossibility to drill a hole in the earth without striking a gusher. I don't know why, but I haven't had any returns yet.

In conclusion, let me say that I do not believe the average druggist is a good investor. He seems to lack the fine discrimination which characterizes the shrewd manipulator; and for this reason, if he is lucky enough to accumulate a little money, the savings bank, an old sock or a hole in the cellar floor may be about the proper place in which to store it.

SUCCESSFUL IN SPITE OF IT!*

BY A MINNESOTA DRUGGIST.

I have certainly bought my share of blue sky. My first venture was back in 1901 when I invested in Texas oil. They called it the "Blue Goose"-left the word "sky" out; and the stock cost me 30 cents a share; par value, $100, fully paid and non-assessable.

I took 100 shares, and up to date they never tried to assess me; neither have I received any dividend checks.

My next was California oil-"Unlimited Crude"--and 100 shares cost me $25. Shortly after I bought, our manager, it was reported, stole all our funds and committed suicide.

That was the end of Unlimited Crude. My next plunge was in 1905—Colorado asphaltum. A college chum discovered a lake of asphaltum out there, and he had to have 10 associates to file claims. So on the strength of old acquaintance (which should sometimes be forgot) I invested $50. He took my $50,

and another $50 from my doctor, and lived high on the combination in a near-by city until it was gone. Nothing ever came of the ven

ture.

A SILVER MINE.

Then I tried silver mining in Quebec. A man who was formerly in the banking business. in my home county discovered this mine. He told me the silver was sticking out of the ground so you could walk on it, like on a sidewalk. We sent a committee up there to look it over, the scouting party consisting of a lawyer and a banker. They reported everything as represented, so we bought a controlling interest in the mine. My share cost me $250.

This mine never paid out, because a firm of sharks owned the adjoining property, and they got busy and cut a tunnel underground and took out most of our silver.

I next bought two shares of stock at par in the R Chemical Co., a manufacturing pharmaceutical concern, and in a year or so after I received notice from the court that I had been assessed an amount equal to the face value of my stock. I paid a lawyer $10 to fight the claim, and he got away with it; so I did not have to come across.

Sandwiched in between, I bought one share of stock, value $100, in our local telephone

*This paper wins the third prize, $5.

company. This has paid me $4 in dividends in ten years.

I TURNED TO LAND.

Wearying somewhat of oil and industrials, I next tried land. My first venture was 120 acres of swamp at $23 an acre. This land is still there, and I still own it.

Shortly after buying the swamp I went out to Sunny Alberta, the guest of a big land company, and invested in 160 acres of the King's domain, which I was told could be irrigated— and nice regular rows of stakes were set out to prove it. I must frankly confess, however, that I made money on this. It cost me $9 an acre, and a year later I sold it for $15, cash. But following this I suffered a relapse: I went back to oil-Oklahoma oil, this time. A newspaper advertisement caught me, as did also, a little later, a man gray-haired and venerable, who talked like a preacher.

Nevertheless, in spite of my blue-sky proclivities, I have made money. I own my store building and a $5000 home, have a $1700 automobile, hold a block of stock in a bank, discount my bills, and don't owe a cent. More than that, I own a farm worth $200 an acre— and have raised six children.

So, after all, my occasional blue-sky debauches haven't handicapped me much.

I hope I am wild-cat broke, though. But you can never tell. I have hoped so before.

MILLIONAIRES MADE WHILE YOU WAIT.

BY AN OHIO DRUGGIST.

Back in 1906 I started to work in a drug store. The proprietors were both men up in the fifties and both were connected with our local banks in an official capacity; so it can be imagined that they were conservative in the investments they made.

Bringing the mail from the post-office one day I noticed an envelope that had printed on the front of it some such legend as this: "Now Is the Time To Invest."

Later in the day that same envelope, yet unopened, was deposited in the waste basket, and next morning when I made the fire the envelope was carefully tucked away in my inside pocket. At my first opportunity I opened

this mysterious package and found an advertisement from the Telepost Company, then being financed. This advertisement told how the Morse Telegraph and the Bell Telephone had made each man who invested only a small amount at the beginning into a rich man; and those who had "plunged" at the start were now many times millionaires.

Each day for a week I read the entire booklet through, and all the time I wanted to buy some of that marvelous stock which would be sure to make me a rich man.

Then came another letter, telling that all who bought at the beginning would be given, free of charge, two "convertibles," and that in a very few years these same convertibles would be worth as much as the stock, leaving the investor with three times as much salable stock as he had purchased in the beginning.

All that looked so good to me that I decided to buy what I could-the astonishing sum of three shares. And as it was to be paid for in ten monthly payments, I sent the required $3 each month.

All the time great "bulletins" kept coming to me, advising that I should buy more stock; but I decided that to be a rich man was good enough; I didn't particularly care to be a millionaire so soon in my career.

Finally I paid up in full and was sent three handsome certificates: one for the stock and two for the "convertibles." Then my interest was drawn to other things and I lost track of Telepost. Later it was merged with some other telephone or telegraph company, and they began to call for new subscriptions. "Surely," the letters said, "surely the incorporation of Telepost with the strong X Company will be productive of great results!"

But I remained strictly neutral and awaited developments.

Finally, in order to get an estimate of the value of my stock, I wrote to a New York broker, and he offered me two dollars and forty cents for the entire outfit, or about 27 cents a share, if the "convertibles" were counted!

I am planning on having those shares framed, and shall then hang them on the wall, along with the other diplomas that I have; for they certainly show-well, several things.