Benjamin Franklin was a troll 01-13-2014, 09:50 PM
#1
Keep in mind that in the 1700's, one dollar was worth like $40 or something.
In 1728, Dr. Franklin opened his own printing shop in Philadelphia.
One day a lounger stepped into his shop, and, after looking over the articles, asked: “What is the price of that book?” holding it up in his hand.
Benjamin had commenced to keep a few books on sale. “One dollar,” answered Franklin’s apprentice. “One dollar,” repeated the lounger. “Can’t you take less than that?” “No less; one dollar is the price.”
Waiting a few moments and still looking over the book, he said, at length: “Is Mr. Franklin at home?” “He is in the printing office.” “I want to see him; will you call him?” Franklin was called. “Mr. Franklin, what is the lowest price you will take for this book?” at the same time holding up the book.
“One dollar and a quarter,” answered Franklin, who had heard the lounger’s discussion with his apprentice. “One dollar and a quarter! Your young man asked but a dollar.”
“True,” answered Franklin, “and I could have better afforded to take a dollar then, than to have been called from my business.”
The customer seemed puzzled for a few moments, but, finally, concluded that Franklin was joking.
He had not been taught to place so great value upon time. “Time is money,” Dr. Franklin would later write. “Come, now, tell me just the lowest you will take for it,” the lounger said.
“One dollar and a half.” “A dollar and a half! Why, you offered it yourself for a dollar and a quarter.”
“True, and I had better taken the price then, than a dollar and a half now,” retorted Benjamin with a good deal of spirit.
The buyer got the truth into his head at last, paid the price of the book, and sneaked away, with the rebuke lying heavily on his heart.
Ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Franklin was a troll.
'Murica!
In 1728, Dr. Franklin opened his own printing shop in Philadelphia.
One day a lounger stepped into his shop, and, after looking over the articles, asked: “What is the price of that book?” holding it up in his hand.
Benjamin had commenced to keep a few books on sale. “One dollar,” answered Franklin’s apprentice. “One dollar,” repeated the lounger. “Can’t you take less than that?” “No less; one dollar is the price.”
Waiting a few moments and still looking over the book, he said, at length: “Is Mr. Franklin at home?” “He is in the printing office.” “I want to see him; will you call him?” Franklin was called. “Mr. Franklin, what is the lowest price you will take for this book?” at the same time holding up the book.
“One dollar and a quarter,” answered Franklin, who had heard the lounger’s discussion with his apprentice. “One dollar and a quarter! Your young man asked but a dollar.”
“True,” answered Franklin, “and I could have better afforded to take a dollar then, than to have been called from my business.”
The customer seemed puzzled for a few moments, but, finally, concluded that Franklin was joking.
He had not been taught to place so great value upon time. “Time is money,” Dr. Franklin would later write. “Come, now, tell me just the lowest you will take for it,” the lounger said.
“One dollar and a half.” “A dollar and a half! Why, you offered it yourself for a dollar and a quarter.”
“True, and I had better taken the price then, than a dollar and a half now,” retorted Benjamin with a good deal of spirit.
The buyer got the truth into his head at last, paid the price of the book, and sneaked away, with the rebuke lying heavily on his heart.
Ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Franklin was a troll.
'Murica!
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