Some of Mrs. Tupper’s neighbors were inclined to joke at first at her appetite for bulletins, her belief in experts, and her rigid insistence on pure-bred stock and poultry.  They admit now that her faith has been justified.

If Mrs. Tupper had trod in the well-worn neighborhood ruts, she would have marketed her produce by the country-store-commission-man-retailer-consumer route; but again she did not.  From the first she planned to plug the leakage of farm profits in middlemen’s commissions.  When she had anything to sell, she put on a good-looking tailored suit, a becoming hat, smart shoes and gloves, and went to the city to talk to ultimate consumers.

    The consciousness of being dressed appropriately—­not expensively or
    ornately—­is a valuable aid to the farm saleswoman, Mrs. Tupper
    thinks.

“If a salesman comes to me shabbily dressed or flashily dressed, I can’t give him a fair hearing,” she said.  “I may let him talk on, but I decide against him the instant I look at him.  So I reasoned that a trim, pleasing appearance would be as valuable an asset to me as to the men who sell pickles, insurance, or gilt-edged bonds.  It would mean a favorable first impression and open the way to show samples and make a sales talk.

“If I tried to interview a prospective customer handicapped by the consciousness that my skirt hung badly or that my shoes were shabby, not only would I be timid and ill at ease, but my appearance would suggest to the city buyer the very slipshodness and lack of reliability he fears in buying direct from the farm.

“I go strong on attractive samples.  It would be useless to try for fancy prices if I brought honey to town in mean-looking cases or rusty cans.  A slight drip down the side of a package might not be proof positive of poor quality, but it would frighten away a careful buyer.  Likewise, I do not illustrate my egg sales talks with a sample dozen of odd sizes and shapes.  It is needless to add that goods delivered to customers must be of the same quality and appearance as the samples, and that one must keep one’s promises to the dot.  A little well-directed enterprise will land a customer, but only good service can hold him.”

When the current wholesale price of honey was $3 a case, Mrs. Tupper’s comb honey has been in demand at from 20 to 30 cents a pound.  She disposes of every pound to private customers and to one grocery store which caters to “fancy” trade.  She sells eggs from her 400 Anconas at from 4 to 6 cents more a dozen than the country store is paying its patrons who bring in eggs and “take them out in trade.”

Mrs. Tupper figured that if a trademark has advertising pull for a manufacturing concern, it would help the farm business.  She christened her 10 acres “Graceland Farm,” and this name is stamped on everything that leaves her