Vilas County news. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1896-1927, 1904-11-14

and Magic Liniment-four big bottles,
cost me nineteen cents, filled and la
beled-that'll gather in every half
dollar in jay town. The spiel that
carries that framed it up myself
say, it's a dream! I believe it'd go here
in New England. One O. these days
I'm planning to throw in about six
cents worth more alcohol into the
four bottles, and strike for the prohibit
ton regions.
"Well, as [ was insinuatlng, fifty
cents is good deal Of money. It's
safer to have a twenty-five cent line,
ten cents is safer still, and you'll
strike some forsaken places-or even
pretty live towns, between pay day S
where a nickel specially is the best
you can do. generally go loaded for
all of EN-; and say, it's amazing, the
difference you'll find between towns,
in up-to-dateness! / can name you
places where the return ball is a sure
seller yet, and where whistling bal
looms. that you can buy for dollar and
half a gross, would bring a dime if a
mans conscience would let him
charge it. There are Southern vii
lagos where, seems like, they're suffer
ing for paper caps, just such dinky it
tie bits of foolishness as YOU pull out
of bonbons. The safest stock in the
South, though, is printed fortunes,
with photographs of your future hus-
band or wife, The fortunes cost sew
enty-five cents a thousand and the
photographs cost 81 a thousand
Wrap lrp one of each with a little
cake of soap, and it'll do your heart
good to see the dimes come in.
'"The combination package goes well
in the South, too. Say you put in a
songbook that costs you three-qUar-
tiers of cent; look-back, that shows
what's going on behind and beside
you; whistling balloon; the fortune
and the photograph, with a cake OF
soap that you call corn salve if you
work the town the second night; a pa
per hat; a book of recipes; a key
chain and a piece of jewelry. The
lot figures up eleven cents, and it's
good for twenty-five. Speaking OF
jewelry-you can get an assortment,
$50 bang-up pieces, for $5-reminds
me that you don't want to specialize
on that, in the South, anywhere but in
co1ored settlement. The white
folks take it too seriously. knew a
smart Aleck from Cincinnati went
down into North Georgia with buggy
load of brass and glass, and did land
office business for three nights. The
fourth night his first customers, that
he'd left nearly fifty miles back in the
hills, reappeared on the scene and
they made him give back the money
and swallow the goods. Not any OF
that for me! I'd be afraid the breast
pins would scratch as they went
down.
For a moment strove to divert the
flood of Renaissance. "Why aren't
YOU in st. Louis operating a conces-
sion at the Fair?" l asked.
Cant see anything in it, my friend
the fakir responded seriously. First
place, concessions cost money. Next,
there's too much competition-on the
outside I mean. With the hotels and
restaurants choking people and taking
it away from EN-, there's nothing left
for an artist who prefers to coax 'em
into giving up of their own accord.
I won't play the strong-arm game, and
it looks to me that that's the ST. Louis
fashion. Besides, I don't need ST.
Louis. Talk about your fairs, here's
a list of more than 7O0-ffty-six of
'em right here in New England-that
take place between July and Novem-
Der in different parts of this great and
glorious country, and all that a smart
man needs to do is to lay out his
route and get busy. Chances are
that, what with the fairs and the
beaches, and good old Boston to fall
back upon, I'll be working in these six
States until snow flies"
Selling medicine?' | suggested.
Later in the season, maybe. A
medicine spiel doesn't seem to go in
hot weather, somehow, unless you
have some kind of sideshow to help
hold the crowd. The Indian medi-
cine men have spoiled people for
straight business. I'd have to hire a
fellow who picks a banjo and sing a
comic song, anyway, and If l ever got
as far as that into the show business l
might go farther and bury tent. I
have thought some of animals" my
friend admitted, rather difidently, it
seemed.
"Animals?"
"Uh-huh,' he nodded. "Say, do you
realize that you can bury an eight-foot
python for $40, and a staving big ALI
gator for $3.50 Yes, I know they
amt animals, but they're snakes-or
is an alligator a fish? Well, anyhow,
you can get leopards or lions, or cats,
or pumas for $40 apiece, and mon
keys for $3.50 up, and you might be
1~S Is