Бетти Смит - Maggie-Now

['73] "She gets personal service yet," whispered one girl to another. He went into the dentist's lavatory and brought out a threelegged stool. They stood a second, the stool between them, and looked steadily at each other.

She sat apart from the rest on the low stool. Claude's eyes roved over the others but alv,~a~7s came back to rest on her. She wore a plainly made, russet-colored dress.

It was high in the neck and had long sleeves and a full skirt. Her thick, straight, dark brown hair was in two braids wound around her head. He thought her mouth was too wide but then he realized it was not foreshortened by lipstick. In fact, she wore no makeup and no ornaments.

She's as wholesome, he thou kit, as an apple on an India'~-s?'mmer afternoon.

She felt his interest. Oh, why, she moaned, didn't 1 wear my blue dress with the lace collar and cuffs and my rhinestone neck1dee and a hat, and I moist plot lipstick on hereafter so my mouth don't look so big.

He stood up and tapped the edge of the table with his pencil. The jingle-jangle of the bracelets stopped suddenly and the waves of scent seemed to settle in the room like a fog.

"This is a course in salesmanship. Salesmanship is the art of using friendly persuasion to induce people to buy merchandise that they are quite certain they do not Avant." He paused. The "class" looked stunned. This unnerved him. He didn't know it was their way of paying absolute attention. He continued. "To sell, one must have a product and," he paused, "personality." He looked at Maggie-Novv.

"This is our product." He picked up one of the small books. "This is The Book of Everything."

There was a rustle among the girls and a perfumed murmur of "Everything?' "Everything," he said fimlly.

From somewhere, he got a stack of matted colored litho,raphs. He held one up. "It tells you how to set a table for guests." The picture showed a table with a lace cloth and candles and American beauty roses and silver and crystal with a turkey on a platter and champagne in a cooler. "How to fix a stopped-up sink." He showed a picture of a naked sink. "How to dress a

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baby." They saw a pink and blue and golden chernh in a lacebedecked bassinette. "How to clean wallpaper. ."

Then he showed them the pictures as transferred to the book. There was some disappointment. In the book, the illustrations were two by four inches and in black and white.

After extolling the book and illustrations, he went into the sales approach. "The best time to approach the prospect is after dinner when he is relaxed and in a mellow mood." One of the men raised his hand.

"(question?" asked Claltde Bassett.

"I work in the afternoon," said the man.

"He means after supper," explained one of the other men.

"Of course," said Claude "Thank you." He continued.

"After supper, then. You hold the book in the crook of your arm. . so. You ring the bell or knock on the door and greet the prospect with a pleasant smile. Your approach is: 'I am. .'" He looked at Maggie-Now.

"What's your name`" he asked.

"Me?" she said.

"Please."

"Margaret Moore."

Now, he thought, I know how, she books. 1 knave the so~`n`1 of her voice and I know her name.

"You smile, then, and say: 'I am Margaret Moore. I live down the block a way and I came over to see how you folks are getting along.' Allow the prospect to talk, and then, as if by the way, mention the book…."

The hour dragged on. I^1ATO of the men sitting on the floor played a surreptitious game of odds-and-evens with their fingers. The old man was sound asleep, legs spread out, back against the wall and snoring in rhythm to the rise and fall of Claude's voice. The fourth man sat with his chin in his hand staring moodily at the pattern of the oilcloth covering the floor. Maggie-Now sat with her hands loosely clasped in her lap with a serene half smile on her lips. The other girls leaned forward tensely, staring at Claude, not hearing a word he said, but trying subconsciously to project themselves as desirable females to the attractive male.

At last, Claude got to the heart of the matter: making money. He told them that the first lesson was free. There would be four more at a quarter a lesson. At the end of that time, each would be given a certificate and a copy of The Book of Everything, ~ 17s:1

free. They would then go forth and sell the book for two dollars. With that money, they'd get two books from him at the salesman's price of one dollar per copy. They'd sell these and buy four; sell those, buy eight. . sixteen. .

thirty-two. . s~xtyfour. . And so on into infinity, it seethed. And all for an initial investment of one dollar and a little spare time!

Maggie-Now recalleci the time in her childhood when she had tried pyramiding her capital. She had a weekly allowance of five cents. Wishing merely to double her money, she bought ten pretzels from the cellar pretzel baker at the wholesale price of two for a cent. She borrowed her mother's market basket, stuck a stick in the end, put the pretzels on the stick and sold the ten that afternoon in Cooper's Park.

It seemed easy to double her money again. The next day after school, she bought twenty pretzels and managed to sell them although she had to stay out longer. The next day v. as Saturday. She debated whether to take her profit and quit or go on. She bought fony pretzels. She sold two.

Then the rains came. It rained three days. The pretzels got soggy and MaggieNow lost not only her profit but her initial investment of five cents. In addition, her father had been angry and made her eat most of the pretzels in lieu of bread, for almost a week. Remembering, she laughed aloud.

Claude looked up Prickly. "You are amused, I\liss Moore-' he asked.

"No. I was just remembering the pretzels."

"The zvEat-" he asked, astonished. He tilted his head sharply to hear better.

"The pretzels." (Only she pronounced it the Brooklyn wav Pretzels.)

He threw his head hack and burst into laughter. The men laughed. The girls stirred and the room was full of jingle-jangle and disturbed layers of perfume.

One of the men said "She's full of life."

Another answered. 'Yeah. I wish my wife. ." He put away the disloyal thought. 'Anyway, my wife's a hard worker."

The other girls relaxed their tense attitude of sweet attentivencss. They knew they had lost. This Miss Margaret Moore had captured the handsome teacher's interest and attention. They

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whispered to each other under the laughter of the men.

"I wouldn't be found dead in a tacky dress like hers."

"I bet she made it herself."

"Yeah. Without a pattrin, too."

"And that old-time hair comb she's got!"

"I couldn't be forward like her. I'd sooner die a old maid."

Claude tapped for silence. "All who wish to continue, please remain to register."

It seemed that everyone tried to get out of the door at once. When the smoke had settled that is, when the waves of scent stopped swirling and the jingle-jangle died away there were five people left behind: three women, the old man and MaggieNow.

Oh, well, thought one of the women, maybe the old man has a nice son I can get to meet.

Another, about thirty with graying hair, thought: He might have a brother. . a little younger.

The third one wiped her glasses and thought: It's hard for a decent girl to get a chance to meet a decent man any man. Just the same, though, it's better to sit here nights than to sit alone in that hall room of mine.