1072 
THE RURAL* NEW-YORKER 
August 2S, 1913. 
Woman and the Tree Agent 
Getting the Signature. — I am re¬ 
ferred to you by the horticulturist of the 
State Experiment Station at Geneva for 
information concerning the rating and 
reputation of the Whiting Nursery Co. 
I have owned this place since childhood ; 
we have resided here for the past 24 con¬ 
secutive years, and I am confident that 
anyone here would freely rate us as very 
quiet, truthful, and strictly honest citi¬ 
zens, though far from wealthy. By life¬ 
long, strict economy I have always met 
every obligation, and am a firm believer 
and follower of the unwritten command¬ 
ment : “Thou shalt pay thy debts.” One 
morning in May a man drove into the 
rear yard of our home and talked a long 
time with my husband. When the latter 
came into the house I learned he had 
signed an agreement to take six plum 
trees from the Whiting Co. for $5, to be 
paid for July 15tli, by which time he ex¬ 
boss,” etc. My last words to him as he 
drove away were that I refused those 
trees, and he was leaving them at the 
company’s risk. The next morning the 
first man drove into my neighbor’s yard, 
learned from her that I really was the 
owner of this property, then drove in 
here. He did not come to the house, or 
seek to find any 'person here. 
A Forcible Planting. —He saw the 
trees where they were lying on the 
ground (and had lain there since I re¬ 
fused them 24 hours before). He drove 
up to the barn, hitched his horse, entered 
the barn, hunted up a spade, came back 
down to the trees, and began to dig in the 
side of my garden, which had been plowed 
and recently planted. (He dug up two 
hills of beans not yet up). 
The Impudent Agent. —Then I went 
out and demanded to know what he was 
doing. He said, “‘taking care of those 
pected to have work in the canning fac¬ 
tory. Common sense and intuition both 
told me at once that it was a swindle, 
the varieties being America, Chabot, Sul¬ 
tan, Shiro, Waugh and Oriental. The 
Experiment Station writes me: “Cer¬ 
tainly they are not worth even the usual 
price which we pay for commercial 
plums” (15 to 20 cents each). The agent 
had represented to my credulous, trusting 
husband (to whom an agent could sell $5 
worth of ray dolls), that the trees were 
very new and superior introductions, im¬ 
mune from black knot and curculio sting, 
etc., etc. 
A Woman’s Rebellion. —Perhaps it 
was because economy had had to be bit¬ 
terly strict last Spring, perhaps because it 
was the third utterly useless bargain ray 
husband had made in the last 10 months, 
but anyway, for the first time in my life 
I flatly rebelled, and said those trees 
should never be planted on my land. As 
it was impossible to locate the agent by 
that time I immediately wrote a strictly 
truthful, but polite, note addressed to 
the Whiting Co., saying that I was the 
owner and responsible person of these 
premises, and wished to be straightfor¬ 
ward. That I wished that order can¬ 
celled as we could not pay for it. my hus¬ 
band having been out of work for the past 
eight months, and having no bright pros¬ 
pects for the future. That we were now 
under heavy obligations for plain ex¬ 
penses incurred ; also that we already had 
a good-sized plum orchard (20 or more 
trees) of fine varieties, for the fruit of 
which there was no sale (and could not 
even be given away). I posted this letter 
so that it must have reached its destina¬ 
tion within a few hours. 
Rejecting the Trees. —This was on 
Friday. No word of reply came, but 
early in the morning of the following 
Wednesday another man drove in with 
those trees. lie asked if Mr. B. lived 
here. I said : “Yes. but he does not own 
this place,” and that I had written last 
week to the company explaining the mat¬ 
ter. and that I would not have those trees. 
Repeatedly I commanded him to take 
those trees from my premises, but with¬ 
out avail. “He would have to see the 
trees.” I said: “This is my place and 
those trees will not be planted in my 
ground. I wrote to the company and ex¬ 
plained that fact, and that I was the re¬ 
sponsible person here and could not buy 
those trees.” lie replied in a very smug 
tone: “You wrote to the company at 
-, didn't you?” “Certainly,” I re¬ 
plied. “Well, I was here, and they had 
to send your letter back here to me, and 
it didn’t reach me till after the trees had 
been shipped,” and he kept on digging. 
I commanded him again and again to stop 
digging, to which he paid no attention, 
but began to tuck the trees in the trench. 
After another unheeded command I 
stooped down, snatched the trees out 
and flung them back where he took them 
from. He was furious. I told him 
again to take his trees from my prem¬ 
ises as they would never be paid for here, 
lie said they should stay here, and would 
be paid for, “the law would see to that.” 
He threw the spade violently on the 
ground, did not even notice my command 
to put it back where he found it, went 
and got his horse and drove away fairly 
raging. lie was evidently determined to 
make me accept the trees and be respon¬ 
sible for them. He also supposed I was 
alone, I presume, but my son and his wife 
live with us, and she was right here 
through all the incidents, though not seen 
by the men. 
The Rejected Bill. — I expected the 
agent would appear for his $5, but he did 
not. About a week later a bill came from 
the Boston office of the Whiting Co. 
(dated July 20), reading: 
“Your bill for nursery stock delivered 
last Spring, payable on delivery, is now 
past due. The amount is $5. Will you 
please remit to us at this office?” 
I freely admit that Dir. B. signed Ins 
name to an agreement, but I do contend 
that the company was very promptly no¬ 
tified that he was not “good” for the pur¬ 
chase (as he has no property of any 
kind),*'and I refused all responsibility. I 
believe the sale to have been a swindle, 
and have the views of the station horti¬ 
culturist to support me. 
The Indignity of It. — I have always 
struggled to keep free of debt. but. I can¬ 
not. to save me, regard this matter as a 
debt. The trees are still lying (dead, of 
course) on my ground, it is true. Sev¬ 
eral have said to me: “You ought never 
to have let them leave the trees on your 
place.” What more could I do? They 
paid no attention to my repeated com¬ 
mands, and I hadn’t a Gatling gun or 
knowledge to use it if I had had one. And 
I have been an invalid for over 11 years 
so I could not do more physically, than I 
did do. As it was I was ill for weeks 
afterward, from the indignity. My fam¬ 
ily have been rather shocked by my de¬ 
cided stand on the matter (and I am thor¬ 
oughly surprised at myself) saying: “Far 
better pay the $5 and avoid trouble, scan¬ 
dal, a suit,” etc. I admit the sum is 
paltry, and it. seems, indeed, like “Much 
ado about nothing,” but it is the princi¬ 
ple of the matter. I would grudge even 
five cents to a swindler. And every time 
I think of that agent it “riles” me as 
Josiah Allen’s wife would say. I feel 
that / deserve redress, for trespass, if 
anyone does. A country woman. 
R. N.-Y T .—We congratulate “A Country 
Woman” on her action in this case. This 
is an old game of Whiting’s. If there 
were more men in this country with half 
the spunk this woman showed such games 
would be quickly ended. Further remarks 
on page 1060. 
The Song Music Fraud. 
We have received about 25 letters re¬ 
cently from people who have been fleeced 
by the song music fakers. The follow¬ 
ing letter is typical of many others. This 
woman asks us not to identify her, but 
her case can be duplicated many times. 
Please give me your opinion on the 
enclosed verses, as to whether they are 
worthy of being published. They, with 
the song enclosed, were sent by me to 
the - Company. They wrote, ac¬ 
cepting the words of the song as “both 
original and clever,” and sent a contract 
for me to sign with a request for $40.50 
to cover cost, etc. I then wrote the paper 
in which I saw the advertisement. The 
reply I received spoke very well for the 
company. I sent the $40.50. They sent 
me a copy of the music which seemed 
suitable. After several months it was 
suitably published and I received copies. 
They said they “had every confidence 
in the song.” I received the copyright. 
They “hoped their first royalty statement 
to me would exceed my highest expecta¬ 
tions” and enclosed a contract for the 
enclosed “Linger Love” “on which they 
had been working” with a request for 
$36.45 (another 5 per cent off) with 
which to proceed with the publication. I 
wrote saying I would let the one song 
finance the other, and have never re¬ 
ceived any reply, though I have written 
and requested one, twice. 
There is no more thankless job in the 
world than that of acting as candid friend 
and critic to a would-be poet. The truth 
compels us to say that this poetry has 
little or no value and would not be con¬ 
sidered for a moment by any publication 
with pretensions to literary merit. We 
all have some weak spots through which 
a designing fraud can reach our pocket 
book, and this spot is usually marked 
plainly by vanity. Some good women 
will be fooled by the old and familiar 
description of themselves as “the beau¬ 
tiful and accomplished,” etc. The most 
sensible persons on earth will usually 
give up at extravagant praise for their 
poetry—no matter how poor it may be. 
These music publishers know this soft 
side of human nature, and they will 
usually praise anything you send them. 
They charge enough to make a great 
profit on their work and probably not 
one in 500 of these songs will ever bring 
any income. It is the easiest sort of 
an easy game and usually played on 
sentimental women or “poetic” young 
men. After the publisher gets your 
money you can do nothing about it. The 
paper mentioned in this letter as carry¬ 
ing the advertisement is one of the 
well-known magazines for women. The 
editor of this paper ought to be ashamed 
of herself for encouraging “poets” to pay 
$40 and more for music. 
“Do you love sister Clara, Mr. Simp¬ 
son?” asked the little brother frankly of 
the caller. “Why, Willie, what a funny 
question!” replied the astounded Mr. 
Simpson. “Why do you ask that?” “Be¬ 
cause she said last night she’d give a 
dollar to know, and I need the dollar.”— 
Credit Lost. 
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The Rural New-Yorker, 333 West 80th 8t., N. Y. 
