Rochefoucauld saw that the others were still hesitating, so he raised the fertilizer ladle again.
"Buy a 'Flying Cart' today and you get this with it. Extremely useful!"
Mm, in truth, farmers who bought a cart tomorrow would also get a ladle, but he would put on a troubled look and say that he had violated company regulations, and that the other party absolutely must not spread the word.
Very soon, two more farmers from relatively well-off families said they wanted to buy one.
After that, these few men loaded the Honeycomb Briquettes they had bought onto the Wheelbarrows and, under everyone's envious gazes, pushed them home with relaxed ease. That night, Rochefoucauld stayed at the home of Lord Elvigne, the petty noble in the village.
He had only sold four Wheelbarrows today. That was still far from enough.
He had mortgaged all his shares in the Coal Industry Company and become the agent for the "Universal Flying Cart" in southern Reims.
If he could not sell two hundred Wheelbarrows every month, he would lose money.
The next day, Rochefoucauld once again came to the front of the church to begin selling Wheelbarrows, only to discover that the place was especially lively today, as though someone was holding a wedding. At three in the afternoon, the sound of bells rang out from the church.
This usually meant that the newlyweds had sworn their vows before the altar, and the priest had also given them his blessing. The first step of the wedding was complete.
Sure enough, amid the sounds of Organ, trumpet, and Lute, a young man of fifteen or sixteen, dressed in a brand-new double-breasted coat and dark blue breeches, led a rather sturdy horse out of the church.
The bride on horseback was about the same age as