Est. Yesterday · Delivered Free
Trade, mind and machine, taught the old way. Free lessons in marketing, sales, pricing and psychology, each told as a story and sealed with a verse.
Trying is Free, Ignoring is Costly
Every letter, newest first. One lesson at a time, told as a story, hidden in a riddle, sealed with a verse.
Psychology
Two nurserymen, the same loam and the same nine estimates, and the four lines one of them wrote at the foot of the page. Letter No. 221 from Ben B. Tilley, on why a customer who cannot refuse you cheaply will go quiet instead.
Mindset
Two basket makers, the same osiers and the same soaking trough, and the forty steps one of them stopped walking after a Saturday in February. Letter No. 220 from Ben B. Tilley, on why a fault that costs you a minute twenty times a day is the dearest thing in your shop.
Pricing
Two confectioners, the same sugar and the same copper pans, and the price card one of them read against his invoices four times a year. Letter No. 219 from Ben B. Tilley, on why the prices nobody argues about are the ones quietly going wrong.
Sales
Two tilers, the same ladders and the same slipped pantiles, and the quarter of an hour one of them stayed on the roof before he came down. Letter No. 218 from Ben B. Tilley, on the work that is only ever cheap while you are already there.
Marketing
Two turners, the same lathe and the same beech, and the ruled book one of them kept by the door for a year. Letter No. 217 from Ben B. Tilley, on why the requests you cannot fill are the only free market research you will ever be handed.
Technology
Two chimney sweeps, the same flues and the same vans, and the three months of bank statements one of them read with a pencil four times a year. Letter No. 216 from Ben B. Tilley, on why a tool paid for by the month is a decision you renew every month by saying nothing.
Psychology
Two bootmakers, the same lasts and the same waxed thread, and the card one of them hung above his cheapest pair. Letter No. 215 from Ben B. Tilley, on why a customer will refuse the option that would say the wrong thing about him.
Mindset
Two curriers, the same hides and the same tan pits, and the spike of orders one of them cleared on the first Monday of every month. Letter No. 214 from Ben B. Tilley, on why the oldest thing on your list is waiting to be decided rather than done.
Pricing
Two blind makers, the same holland cloth and the same eight shillings a blind, and the day book one of them ruled into two columns. Letter No. 213 from Ben B. Tilley, on why your price must carry the days nobody pays you for.
Sales
Two range setters, the same foundry list and the same smoky kitchen, and the one who named the range he would set in his own mother's house. Letter No. 212 from Ben B. Tilley, on why a customer who cannot judge your trade is waiting to be told which one you would have.
Marketing
Two scythe makers, the same crucible steel and the same ironmongers, and the eleven pounds one of them spent on men who could not buy from him at all. Letter No. 211 from Ben B. Tilley, on advertising to the people your stockists sell to rather than to the stockists themselves.
Technology
Two driving instructors, the same car and the same booking arrangement on a screen, and the evening one of them spent receiving every message the machine would send in his name. Letter No. 210 from Ben B. Tilley, on why the words your tools send out were written by a stranger and read as your own voice.
Psychology
Two auctioneers, the same rostrum and the same five in the hundred, and the one who spent an hour each month writing to men he hardly knew. Letter No. 209 from Ben B. Tilley, on why the work you have not got is decided in rooms your closest friends never enter.
Mindset
Two bookbinders, the same calf and the same brass tools, and the one who shut his shop at seven whatever stood unfinished on the bench. Letter No. 208 from Ben B. Tilley, on why a day with a named end is the only day that can be arranged.
Pricing
Two limeburners, the same stone and the same coal, and the shilling a ton one of them gave away before the sentence was finished. Letter No. 207 from Ben B. Tilley, on what a reduction actually takes out of your year.
Sales
Two glasshouse builders, the same red deal and the same price to the shilling, and the five dates one of them pencilled on the back of his estimate. Letter No. 206 from Ben B. Tilley, on the deadline already sitting in your customer's own year.
Marketing
Two steeplejacks, the same ropes and ladders, and the three lines in the county directory one of them walked in to read. Letter No. 205 from Ben B. Tilley, on the records other people keep about you, and the enquiries a wrong one quietly costs.
Technology
Two window cleaners, the same nine hundred houses and the same round kept on the same screen, and the file one of them took out in his first week and never needed. Letter No. 204 from Ben B. Tilley, on why records you have never once taken out of a machine are on loan rather than in your possession.
Psychology
Two coppersmiths, the same sheet copper and the same tin, and the eleven old preserving pans one of them asked to borrow for a fortnight. Letter No. 203 from Ben B. Tilley, on why a small favour asked of a customer binds them more surely than a large one given.
Mindset
Two saddlers, the same oak-bark leather and the same Thursday round, and the two lines one of them wrote inside his order book before the first week. Letter No. 202 from Ben B. Tilley, on setting the length and the measure of a trial before you begin it.
Pricing
Two ropemakers, the same hemp and the same price a fathom, and the fourteen days one of them wrote on every order. Letter No. 201 from Ben B. Tilley, on why the wait for your money is part of your price.
Sales
Two carpenters, the same seasoned oak and the same day rate, and the estimate one of them held back until the Saturday night. Letter No. 200 from Ben B. Tilley, on being first to reply and last to price.
Marketing
Two fishmongers, the same boats and the same ice house, and the Friday cart one of them announced a single time. Letter No. 199 from Ben B. Tilley, on why a thing said once has barely been said at all.
Technology
Two tree surgeons, the same ropes and the same chipper, and the form one of them filled in himself on the first Monday of every month. Letter No. 198 from Ben B. Tilley, on why an automatic thing that has stopped gives no sign, and must be made to prove it ran.
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