We had been increasing our sales on men's toilet articles, and were selling anywhere from $5.00 to $10.00 worth of those goods a week. Mind you, not razors, but soap, and talcum powder, and such-like.

Larsen had been studying a book on window trimming, and had learned that there were two ways of trimming windows. One way was to put in a lot of goods that were associated with each other, and another was to put in just one class of goods to make a forceful appeal. So, Larsen conceived the idea of a special window trim, using the second idea. We had been in the habit of mixing a number of different kinds of goods in our window. His idea was just the opposite.

The display was to be of the Middle's razor, which I sold exclusively in our town, and which I thought was the best of all the dollar razors. Well, Larsen started to tell me his idea; but I told him to go ahead and work it out in his own way.

He got some cheap, dark-blue cloth, and hung it in a semi-circle in the window from top to bottom. Then he covered the floor of the window with the same material. He then got a piece of cardboard and bent it into the shape of a cone about 2 ft. 6 in. at the base, and not above half an inch at the top. This he also covered with the same cloth, placing it in the center of the window. About a foot above the cone he hung a single electric bulb, with a shade over it made of cardboard, and again covered with the cloth. The light was therefore directed full on the top of the cone, and the bulb itself was out of sight. There was no other light in the window. On the apex of the cone he placed one Middle's razor—not in the box—oh, no. He took the razor out of the box, fitted a blade into it and rested it on the top of the cone. On the floor, resting against the cone, was a card which read as follows:

When I saw that window it looked to me like a joke. My looks evidently indicated that to Larsen. I had never been much of a believer in stunts for window trimming. I had thought it better to have people come into the store and buy something, than just say what a clever window display we had—and walk by. I was standing outside the window, looking at it, when Larsen joined me.

"You don't like it, no?"

"Well," I said, "it looks to me too—oh, what's the word I want?—oh, you know what I mean—too smart-alecky!" We both laughed. "It isn't dignified enough, you know."

"I WAS STANDING OUTSIDE THE WINDOW""Say, Boss," said Larsen, and then he couldn't continue on account of a coughing spell. Poor old Larsen. For several weeks he hadn't been feeling right. He had caught a hard cold and wouldn't rest, and it didn't seem to get any better. It had worried me sometimes, because he wasn't as young as he used to be. I suggested to him that he lay off work for a little while, but he wouldn't hear of it.

When he had recovered from his coughing spell, he said:

"Say, Boss, that book on window trimming. It say trim with one line of goods. All razors, or all scissors, make folks stop. If a lot make 'em stop, just one by itself will. Folks'll come across the road to see what it is."

Well, we used the window trim as it was, except that, at the last minute, we changed the sign.

"Do you remember that pencil sharpener salesman that came here?" I asked Larsen. "Remember him telling us about that sale of women's hats, where they could get in only by ticket?"

"No."

"Well, it was a Chicago store. They sold women's hats. On certain days you could get into the store only by ticket, and the store was swamped with people then, because—oh, I don't know why, but they thought that they were favored by getting the ticket. Why not put on the sign that these razors won't be sold until Saturday?"

"That's good. But nothing special here— No new style like in women's hats."

"Well," I said, defending my idea, "the drug stores sell regular candy, special on Saturday.""Yep, but they give special price. We ain't cutting it."

Then Larsen forgot himself and slapped me on the back, saying: "I got it, Boss. Put this razor on sale Friday and Saturday only, and give a can of shaving powder to each customer!"

"Heavens, no! Shaving powder sells for 25 cents."

"It costs us only twelve. Razor and soap together don't cost a dollar. We make profit on it, and—and—they buy more powder soon."

Well, we did it; we added to the sign: "To every purchaser of a Middle Razor, Friday and Saturday only, will be given a can of Dulcet Shaving Powder."

I wanted to put a can of the powder in the window as well, but Larsen was against it; and, as it was his show, I let him have his own way with it.

"How many of the razors have we in stock?" I asked.

"We got three dozen last week. We ain't broke the package yet."

"Oh, that'll be plenty," I said. ...

By ten thirty Friday morning we had sold every Middle's Razor in stock, and I had telegraphed for six dozen more to come by express. As they were made in this State, they should arrive the first thing in the morning. By Friday night I had orders for sixty-four razors,—and I also had had to telegraph for more shaving powder. Well, up to closing time on Saturday, we had sold a hundred and fifty-nine Middle's razors! We couldn't supply them, of course, although the six dozen we had ordered came in time, so we merely took orders on Friday afternoon and Saturday, and promised to deliver the razors as soon they came. In practically every case, however, we had got the money.

Think of it, a hundred and fifty-nine razors in our town. I couldn't understand why so many people bought them. Also, it had been a revelation to me to find how many women had come in for this bargain offer. Two or three people had come on Thursday to buy it, but we wouldn't sell them. That window certainly had attracted a lot of attention, particularly at night. There had been a number of people around it all the time.

Poor Larsen collapsed altogether from the strain of the two busy days, and had to place himself under the doctor's care.

The next evening I called at the doctor's and he said that Larsen had really a serious illness.

"You don't mean," I said, "that there is any chance that he will—"

The doctor was silent for a minute, pursed his lips, then said slowly: "I don't know. It would not be a serious thing for a young man, but he is not a young man, and he is poorly nourished."

Larsen's absence certainly made Jones and Jimmie and me hustle. In the first place I had to take out that window trim of the Middle's Razor, for, as our sale was over, we did not want to keep the display going. In fact, when I went to see old Larsen, sick as he was, his first weak remark had been, "You took the trim out, Boss?" I told him yes, and added that we had a fine display of enamelware in its place. Mrs. Larsen told me that he had been worrying all day. He seemed a bit easier when I left.The whole week was a week of trouble. On Tuesday morning Henderson was driving his car past the store and frightened Haywood's old horse (poor thing, I never thought he could move so quickly) so that he bolted and ran his foolish old head through the store window—just after I had my nice display of enamelware ready. It cost me over thirty dollars to get it put right.

I met old Barlow at the Élite Restaurant that day and he remarked, "Makes it quite inconvenient doesn't it? Have you telephoned the insurance people about it yet?"

"Insurance people?"

"Yes, plate-glass insurance people."

I felt the color surging into my face as I answered, "Why, no, I haven't got around to it yet."

As a matter of fact, I didn't even know I could insure my plate-glass windows. It was another loss I had to bear just because of my ignorance.

There was one funny little incident in connection with the broken window-pane, however, and it came from Jimmie. When I got back to the store, that freckled-face rascal said, "Gee, Boss, I've got a whale of an idea!"

"What is it?" I asked.

"Why not put a big sign in the window offering a ten per cent. reduction?"

"That's a silly idea. Why should we do that?"

"You don't get me, Boss," he said. "Here!" and he handed me a brick.

"What am I to do with this?" I asked in surprise. "Hit people on the head as they go by the store, grab their money and give them a dishpan in its place?"I feared Jimmie would burst if I didn't let him finish his story.

"Put the brick in the window, Boss," he said excitedly, "then stick a sign on it saying, 'Who threw this brick through our window, and knocked ten per cent. off the price of everything?'"

It sounded silly; but, somehow, it interested me. I think the thing that interested me most was that Jimmie should be looking for some way to turn misfortune into profit. At any rate, I put that sign in the window just as Jimmie suggested, with the added line that, as soon as the window was repaired, prices would go back to normal.

I believe that Jimmie spent every minute of his spare time out of the store telling people to come and see his big selling idea, for numbers of people said to me, "Yes, I heard about your window with the brick from your errand boy—smart kid that!" and then they would grin. It got me some business, and started a lot of talking. I remembered what Barlow had once said: "Keep them talking about you; and be thankful when people pitch into you. Nobody ever bothers to kick a dead dog." I was mighty glad it had not been our other window, though, for that had contained a splendid show of electrical household goods.

Wednesday I had dinner again with Roger Burns. He told me that the chain store for which he was manager had opened in good shape, and that on the opening day they had given a clock calendar to the visitors as a souvenir. It had been a cheap clock in a metal frame, so made that it would either hang on the wall or stand on a shelf, while attached to it below was a year's calendar. Above the clock had been written the slogan:

"All the time is the right time to buy kitchen goods from the New England Hardware Company."

Below the face of the clock was the address and Roger Burns' name as manager.

Roger said something, that night, that interested me mightily.

"One reason why chain stores make a success is that they try to dominate the field in one direction. For example, look at the five-and-ten-cent stores. Notice how they all dominate any other store of their kind. They have something distinctive and unusual about them. Notice the places of the big drug and tobacco chain-store systems. They dominate in some particular way!"

That word "dominate" stuck in my mind. "How do you purpose to dominate?" I asked of Roger.

"Well, in one way we are dominating in the brush field now. At our new store here, I have a bigger variety of household brushes than all the other stores put together. We have anything in the way of a brush that you want; and they're all good ones, too. ... Most people dominate in some way," he continued. "Mr. Barlow dominates for miles around in agricultural implements."

"And I?" I said.

"Well, you are hardly dominating yet, but you could, if you wanted to, in electrical domestic goods and men's toilet goods."

"Good Heavens," I said, "they're both side lines!"

"Exactly," he said, "but you were the first in town to push those side lines, so you scooped up the new trade for that kind of goods; and, if any one gets after your scalp, you might dominate in those lines. Marcosson, our general sales manager, says that the first in the field can dominate it if he will vigorously push his advantage. Think of all the well-known advertised things—the people whose names are most familiar to you—those which practically dominate their field—are those which were there first."

After we had smoked another cigar, we parted, but all the way home, that one word, "domination," stuck in my mind. I had what I had thought were two profitable side lines; while other people—people who should know—looked upon them as something which was exclusively mine. Domination! I wondered if I could develop some special lines, such as electrical and toilet goods, which I could consistently and persistently push until every one in town would naturally connect my name with those goods whenever they wanted to buy them.

There's quite a fascination about the word "domination," isn't there? Everybody dominates in some way. There was Hardware Times! They dominated in the trade-journal field. Roosevelt dominates in aggressiveness. Edison dominates in electrical inventions. Burbank dominates in growing things. Jimmie—let's see what Jimmie dominated in—well, I guess Jimmie dominated in freckles. George Field, I should say, would dominate in good nature. I thought it would be interesting to have a little game with myself in looking at people and stores and places and find out in what way they dominated and see if from this kind of observation I could find out not only in what they dominated, but how and why they dominated!

When I got home I tried for an hour to write slogans, such as "If it's electrical you can get it at Black's;" "Go to Black's for a white deal;" "You naturally think of Black's when you think of toilet goods;" and such-like, but I didn't think much of them, when I got through.

There was one thing, however, that I decided on—and that was to increase my stock of those goods with which I meant to dominate the field. I would always have them on show and advertise them as consistently as my small advertising allowance would permit.

It surely had been a dreadful week with Larsen sick. I never knew how much I had been leaning on him. When he came back, I was resolved, to look after him better than I had done before. I guess there are a lot of bosses, the same as I, who really don't realize how valuable their employees are to them until they have lost them. Some employees probably dominate—there's that word dominate again!—in some phase of the store's activities in such an unobtrusive way that their work is not appreciated as it should be. The trouble is that the good worker is usually a poor self-advertiser, while the clever self-advertiser often cannot deliver the goods that he is advertising. I determined that, if ever I got a really big store with a lot of help, I would find some way of knowing what every one did, so that the fellow that did things would not be pushed to one side by the fellow who merely elevated himself with talk.Just as I was going to bed I had an inspiration, and I found what I would try to dominate in—SERVICE!