Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 257, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 October 1911 — Pointer for the ‘Follow Up'Man [ARTICLE]

Pointer for the ‘Follow Up'Man

Waste and Iron Age.’ But the* Dakota letter gets me.” Mrs. Grind looked over his shoulder as he sat down and tore open the envelope of the letter, which did seem to be addressed in a feminine hand- Its penmanship was good—that of an educated woman—and from their reading of it several thing were evident. The writer had spotted Mr. Grind as an eminent authority on waste of alt kinds; she lived In a stock country, whose people' were mostly on the move, and, as she expressed It* “lived out of tin cans;” and she wanted to find out how and where to sell these tin cans, with which her country was cluttered and which were going to waste. Further, she was not greatly blessed with the goods of this world and would “find life more enjoyable” If she could discover a market for bones and cattle and badger hair, with which the prairies were covered; she had boys and teams, but no markets.

“Now, I don’t care what you say” [and as the eyes of the readers met Mr. Grind could see that his wife was half laughing and .half crying] .“that’s a real pitiful letter. Dear old soul! With all her boys and teams —tin cans, bones, and hair, all around—-but no place to send ’em to. I can just see her In the Dakota ranch, with old clothes on and cracked knuckles, writing here and there, trying to follow up this business that makes money from thrown away things—ls one only knows where to sell ’em—and supposing you know all about it because you wrote as if you did.’’ “But she’s not so far out of the way as these so-called business men who have been writing to me,” interposed Grind, “for the last three years on the supposition that I’m a wholesale dealer in all kinds of waste products.” Now this Ms. Grind once, when in a desperate moment, needing an overcoat, slid over a raft of fanciful topics and selected “Rags-Old-Iron” for his subject, wrote it up, sold it, and got an overcoat big enough to flop around his heels. Those “follow-up” fellows saw the article, got his address from the city directory, and for two or three years have been trying to sell him carloads of iron and other metals, rags, burlaps, and all the castoffs mentioned in his article. They are the same fellows who advertise thus: . “WANTED—Position, where the abilities of a first class follow-up man, a business getter, will be appreciated; have made a study of letter forms and correspondence, %nd when I once get on the trail of a man he cannot escape.”' “I don’t think you have anything on me.” announced Grind Jr., who had entered, in his new high school graduation suit. “I’m still getting letters from ' four business colleges which commenced to send me circulars when I graduated from grammar school four years ago, inviting me to take special summer courses, special winter courses, and what-not to make up for my deficiencies in writing, spelling, and arithmetic. You’d think some of those guys would wake up after three or four years and say to themselves, ‘Jimmy Grind, Jr., must be quite a lad by this time. He’s either got through high school and kaows how to write a fair letter, multiply twelve times twelve, and spell two syllable words, or made up his mind somewhere near what he wants to make of himself. So I guess I'll quit trim at him and save my shots for somebody I know something about.’ ” Out of this conference on tho hit or miss follow-up methods as applied to one small family it may be that the business may get at least one pointer toward practical reform. In short, you follow-up men revise yon lists once in a while. The Dakoti woman tells her own story of strurgling in the dark for information and something to “make life more enjoyable,” but you are supposed to be business men. 8o don’t shoot in the dark until you get gray. Wake up and find out how many of your shots really hit anybody.