Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 157: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

By BENJAMIN R. SHER birds you read of in the magazines who become Presidents and million- aires by comin’ down to work regularly, in the same place, for fifty years before the whistle blows, not eatin’ lunch and sayin’ “yes, sir” with a great salaam to the boss every time they get a cut in salary. But all of ’em that I ever knew that never looked at a clock.either couldn’t tell time or there was no clock in the place where they worked. And those fellers that came down before sunrise and waited for the janitor to sweep them out did so to be in a warm place while dodgin’ collectors. Every feller that I know that now owns tenement houses changed jobs every few weeks and took with him at least a list of the firm’s best customers. The Southern Motor Company of New Orleans handled flivvers exclusively. Trucks, sedans, touring cars and coupés, and in B tise 5 it if you will about all those those days a salesman got twenty-five dol- lars a sale regardless— and Ill tell the world sellin’ was a tough job. Every man who wanted a car either had a friend who was 2 flivver salesman or knew of one who was facin’ the sheriff, and nothing but a sale could save him. There were ten author- ized dealers in the town and all hungry for business. The factory kept us strictly to one price and it meant the can for any one caught tryin’ to get around it in any way. it was a case of survival of the fleetest as they say in highbrow circles. Any man who could speak any language and who could finance himself until he sold a car could get a job as a flivver salesman. A feller that worked in the post office sellin’ stamps was considered a regular humdinger for sales experience. The front half of the ground floor of the company’s building was occupied by the sales force. About a dozen were seated in 947 Ccomicboooks CO)