I should be glad to supply you with some more tea when this is gone." "Well, you can call if you are round this way.

If I like it, I will try you again." Frank's spirits rose.
His profits on the pound of tea were twelve cents.

This was not much, certainly, but it was a beginning.
At the next three houses he sold nothing, being rather rudely rebuffed at one.

At the fourth house, the servant called her mistress, a kind, motherly-looking woman, who seemed to regard Frank with more interest than his merchandise.
"I hope you are succeeding well," she said, kindly.
"This is my first day," said Frank, "and I have made one sale." "I have a son who is an agent like you, but he didn't begin so young.
He is now traveling in the West." "What is he selling ?" asked Frank, with interest.
"Dry goods.

He travels for a wholesale house in New York." "I suppose he is a young man." "Yes; he is twenty-five, but he began at nineteen in a small way.