sion of being a man to be let alone. But that impression had no real foundation in fact. Many a traveling man learned from him, to his subsequent benefit, the value of taking a man at his word. In the case of traveling men, his "yes" and "no" meant just what they said; for he would not be annoyed by a persistent knight of the grip under any circumstances, and would therefore put on a curtness of manner as armor against his attacks. Those who knew him intimately (and I had the privilege of being among them) found in Mr. Scott a man of spirit, wit, brilliant conversational powers, and amiability. His wit, indeed, was one of the chief characteristics of the man. On many occasions he kept his friends roaring when in his inimitable way he would relate an incident that might have happened a day or two before in his business. At this moment I recall one or two.
A lady of frugal habits asked him one day his price on Chrysanthemums.
"We have them at all prices, Mrs. Jones," he said. "We have some at fifty cents, fairly good ones at a dollar, some real good ones at a dollar and a half, two, and three. Now which will you have?"
"Why, Mr. Scott, give me a dozen at fifty cents," replied the lady. "I want them for Mr. Jones's grave; and Mr. Jones would certainly object to my paying more."
Another good story is of a Hollander who succeeded in booking an order from Mr. Scott amounting to several hundred dollars. As was the custom in those days, a transaction of this sort was usually cemented by means of the social drink I have previously referred to. Failing to receive the invitation from the Holland gentleman, Mr. Scott offered to do the honors himself, inviting the salesman to a café across the street from his place.
"What'll you have?" asked Mr. Scott.
"Anything, anything," replied the Hollander.
"Would you like a little Holland gin, the real stuff, you know?"
Of course he would. Contrary to the American rules of reciprocating the courtesy, the Hollander smacked his lips and said nothing. Ten minutes later, Mr. Scott suggested a second drink, which was accepted by the Hollander with the same alacrity that had met the first.
On their way back to the greenhouse, the Hollander stopped a moment, as if plunged into deep thought. Finally he uttered:
"Mr. Scott, I thank you very much for your kindness." And thrusting his hand into his pocket, he fished out a nickel, which he offered to Mr. Scott, saying,
"Here, buy yourself a good cigar!"
No doubt the gentleman from Holland, if he still continues traveling in this country, has changed his methods of dealing with his customers on the social end of it, and has perhaps learned that the purchasing power of a nickel is utterly inadequate when it comes to a good cigar.
My intimate acquaintance with Mr. Scott dates back to the time of the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo. Prior to that time, I merely called upon him in my capacity as traveling salesman. His brusque answers discouraged for a time my attempts to get closer to the man of whom I had heard so much, and whom I later learned to admire. It was during the Exposition that I had the first opportunity of meeting him, not in the relation of salesman to buyer, but simply as man to man. It was on the Fair grounds. He was in full charge of the horticultural department. I approached Mr. Scott, remarking that I had nothing to offer him, and that I merely wanted to talk to him on things outside of business matters. He happened at the moment to be in a happy frame of mind, and my approach met with instantaneous success. We talked that evening upon general subjects, my native country, Russia, interesting him greatly. He wanted to know what the Russians were doing in horticulture, and a good many things about the general business conditions. We spoke on literature. Tolstoi and Tourguénieff especially
