I would have backed my
tables with an order for the whole shop, so sure was I that they
could not be beaten. The idea! With the fit of righteous indignation
upon me, I went out and sold every other furniture-dealer in
Titusville a bill of tables; not one of them escaped. At night,
when I had sent the order home, I set out for Oil City, so as to
lose no valuable time.
It was just the same there. For some reason they were suspicious of
the extension tables, yet they wanted nothing else. I had to give
ironclad guarantees that they were as represented, which I did
impatiently enough. There was a thunder storm raging at the time.
The lightning had struck a tank, and the burning oil ran down a
hill and set the town on fire. One end of it was burning while I
was canvassing the other, mentally calculating how many extension
tables would be needed to replace those that were lost. People
did not seem to have heard of any other kind of furniture in that
country. Walnut bed-steads, marble-top bureaus, turned washstands--they
passed them all by to fall upon the tables with shrill demand.
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