note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h.zip) the struggles of brown, jones, and robinson: by one of the firm edited by anthony trollope author of "framley parsonage," "the last chronicle of barset," &c. &c. [illustration: jones is vanquished by mrs. morony (chapter xiv). (frontispiece)] [illustration: title page.] reprinted from the "cornhill magazine." with four illustrations. london: smith, elder & co., , waterloo place. . contents i. preface. by one of the firm. ii. the early history of our mr. brown, with some few words of mr. jones. iii. the early history of mr. robinson. iv. nine times nine is eighty-one. showing how brown, jones, and robinson selected their house of business. v. the division of labour. vi. it is our opening day. vii. miss brown pleads her own case, and mr. robinson walks on blackfriars bridge. viii. mr. brisket thinks he sees his way, and mr. robinson again walks on blackfriars bridge. ix. showing how mr. robinson was employed on the opening day. x. showing how the firm invented a new shirt. xi. johnson of manchester. xii. samson and delilah. xiii. the wisdom of poppins. xiv. mistress morony. xv. miss brown names the day. xvi. showing how robinson walked upon roses. xvii. a tea-party in bishopsgate street. xviii. an evening at the "goose and gridiron." xix. george robinson's marriage. xx. showing how mr. brisket didn't see his way. xxi. mr. brown is taken ill. xxii. wasteful and impetuous sale. xxiii. farewell. xxiv. george robinson's dream. chapter i. preface. by one of the firm. it will be observed by the literary and commercial world that, in this transaction, the name of the really responsible party does not show on the title-page. i--george robinson--am that party. when our mr. jones objected to the publication of these memoirs unless they appeared as coming from the firm itself, i at once gave way. i had no wish to offend the firm, and, perhaps, encounter a lawsuit for the empty honour of seeing my name advertised as that of an author. we had talked the matter over with our mr. brown, who, however, was at that time in affliction, and not able to offer much that was available. one thing he did say; "as we are partners," said mr. brown, "let's be partners to the end." "well," said i, "if you say so, mr. brown, so it shall be." i never supposed that mr. brown would set the thames on fire, and soon learnt that he was not the man to amass a fortune by british commerce. he was not made for the guild of merchant princes. but he was the senior member of our firm, and i always respected the old-fashioned doctrine of capital in the person of our mr. brown. when mr. brown said, "let's be partners to the end; it won't be for long, mr. robinson," i never said another word. "no," said i, "mr. brown; you're not what you was--and you're down a peg; i'm not the man to take advantage and go against your last wishes. whether for long or whether for short, we'll pull through in the same boat to the end. it shall be put on the title-page--'by one of the firm.'" "god bless you, mr. robinson," said he; "god bless you." and then mr. jones started another objection. the reader will soon realize that anything i do is sure to be wrong with mr. jones. it wouldn't be him else. he next declares that i can't write english, and that the book must be corrected, and put out by an editor? now, when i inform the discerning british public that every advertisement that has been posted by brown, jones, and robinson, during the last three years has come from my own unaided pen, i think few will doubt my capacity to write the "memoirs of brown, jones, and robinson," without any editor whatsoever. on this head i was determined to be firm. what! after preparing, and correcting, and publishing such thousands of advertisements in prose and verse and in every form of which the language is susceptible, to be told that i couldn't write english! it was jones all over. if there is a party envious of the genius of another party in this sublunary world that party is our mr. jones. but i was again softened by a touching appeal from our senior partner. mr. brown, though prosaic enough in his general ideas, was still sometimes given to the muses; and now, with a melancholy and tender cadence, he quoted the following lines;-- "let dogs delight to bark and bite, for 'tis their nature to. but 'tis a shameful sight to see, when partners of one firm like we, fall out, and chide, and fight!" so i gave in again. it was then arranged that one of smith and elder's young men should look through the manuscript, and make any few alterations which the taste of the public might require. it might be that the sonorous, and, if i may so express myself, magniloquent phraseology in which i was accustomed to invite the attention of the nobility and gentry to our last importations was not suited for the purposes of light literature, such as this. "in fiction, mr. robinson, your own unaided talents would doubtless make you great," said to me the editor of this magazine; "but if i may be allowed an opinion, i do think that in the delicate task of composing memoirs a little assistance may perhaps be not inexpedient." this was prettily worded; so what with this, and what with our mr. brown's poetry, i gave way; but i reserved to myself the right of an epistolary preface in my own name. so here it is. ladies and gentlemen,--i am not a bit ashamed of my part in the following transaction. i have done what little in me lay to further british commerce. british commerce is not now what it was. it is becoming open and free like everything else that is british;--open to the poor man as well as to the rich. that bugbear capital is a crumbling old tower, and is pretty nigh brought to its last ruin. credit is the polished shaft of the temple on which the new world of trade will be content to lean. that, i take it, is the one great doctrine of modern commerce. credit,--credit,--credit. get credit, and capital will follow. doesn't the word speak for itself? must not credit be respectable? and is not the word "respectable" the highest term of praise which can be applied to the british tradesman? credit is the polished shaft of the temple. but with what are you to polish it? the stone does not come from the quarry with its gloss on. man's labour is necessary to give it that beauteous exterior. then wherewith shall we polish credit? i answer the question at once. with the pumice-stone and sand-paper of advertisement. different great men have promulgated the different means by which they have sought to subjugate the world. "audacity--audacity--audacity," was the lesson which one hero taught. "agitate--agitate--agitate," was the counsel of a second. "register--register--register," of a third. but i say--advertise, advertise, advertise! and i say it again and again--advertise, advertise, advertise! it is, or should be, the shibboleth of british commerce. that it certainly will be so i, george robinson, hereby venture to prophesy, feeling that on this subject something but little short of inspiration has touched my eager pen. there are those,--men of the old school, who cannot rouse themselves to see and read the signs of the time, men who would have been in the last ranks, let them have lived when they would,--who object to it that it is untrue,--who say that advertisements do not keep the promises which they make. but what says the poet,--he whom we teach our children to read? what says the stern moralist to his wicked mother in the play? "assume a virtue if you have it not?" and so say i. "assume a virtue if you have it not." it would be a great trade virtue in a haberdasher to have forty thousand pairs of best hose lying ready for sale in his warehouse. let him assume that virtue if he have it not. is not this the way in which we all live, and the only way in which it is possible to live comfortably. a gentleman gives a dinner party. his lady, who has to work all day like a dray-horse and scold the servants besides, to get things into order, loses her temper. we all pretty well know what that means. well; up to the moment when she has to show, she is as bitter a piece of goods as may be. but, nevertheless, she comes down all smiles, although she knows that at that moment the drunken cook is spoiling the fish. she assumes a virtue, though she has it not; and who will say she is not right? well; i say again and again to all young tradesmen;--advertise, advertise, advertise;--and don't stop to think too much about capital. it is a bugbear. capital is a bugbear; and it is talked about by those who have it,--and by some that have not so much of it neither,--for the sake of putting down competition, and keeping the market to themselves. there's the same game going on all the world over; and it's the natural game for mankind to play at. they who's up a bit is all for keeping down them who is down; and they who is down is so very soft through being down, that they've not spirit to force themselves up. now i saw that very early in life. there is always going on a battle between aristocracy and democracy. aristocracy likes to keep itself to itself; and democracy is just of the same opinion, only wishes to become aristocracy first. we of the people are not very fond of dukes; but we'd all like to be dukes well enough ourselves. now there are dukes in trade as well as in society. capitalists are our dukes; and as they don't like to have their heels trod upon any more than the other ones, why they are always preaching up capital. it is their star and garter, their coronet, their ermine, their robe of state, their cap of maintenance, their wand of office, their noli me tangere. but stars and garters, caps and wands, and all other noli me tangeres, are gammon to those who can see through them. and capital is gammon. capital is a very nice thing if you can get it. it is the desirable result of trade. a tradesman looks to end with a capital. but it's gammon to say that he can't begin without it. you might as well say a man can't marry unless he has first got a family. why, he marries that he may have a family. it's putting the cart before the horse. it's my opinion that any man can be a duke if so be it's born to him. it requires neither wit nor industry, nor any pushing nor go-ahead whatsoever. a man may sit still in his arm-chair, half asleep half his time, and only half awake the other, and be as good a duke as need be. well; it's just the same in trade. if a man is born to a dukedom there, if he begins with a large capital, why, i for one would not thank him to be successful. any fool could do as much as that. he has only to keep on polishing his own star and garter, and there are lots of people to swear that there is no one like him. but give me the man who can be a duke without being born to it. give me the man who can go ahead in trade without capital; who can begin the world with a quick pair of hands, a quick brain to govern them, and can end with a capital. well, there you are; a young tradesman beginning the world without capital. capital, though it's a bugbear, nevertheless it's a virtue. therefore, as you haven't got it, you must assume it. that's credit. credit i take to be the belief of other people in a thing that doesn't really exist. when you go into your friend smith's house, and find mrs. s. all smiles, you give her credit for the sweetest of tempers. your friend s. knows better; but then you see she's had wit enough to obtain credit. when i draw a bill at three months, and get it done, i do the same thing. that's credit. give me credit enough, and i don't care a brass button for capital. if i could have but one wish, i would never ask a fairy for a second or a third. let me have but unreserved credit, and i'll beat any duke of either aristocracy. to obtain credit the only certain method is to advertise. advertise, advertise, advertise. that is, assume, assume, assume. go on assuming your virtue. the more you haven't got it, the more you must assume it. the bitterer your own heart is about that drunken cook and that idle husband who will do nothing to assist you, the sweeter you must smile. smile sweet enough, and all the world will believe you. advertise long enough, and credit will come. but there must be some nous in your advertisements; there must be a system, and there must be some wit in your system. it won't suffice now-a-days to stick up on a blank wall a simple placard to say that you have forty thousand best hose just new arrived. any wooden-headed fellow can do as much as that. that might have served in the olden times that we hear of, twenty years since; but the game to be successful in these days must be played in another sort of fashion. there must be some finish about your advertisements, something new in your style, something that will startle in your manner. if a man can make himself a real master of this art, we may say that he has learnt his trade, whatever that trade may be. let him know how to advertise, and the rest will follow. it may be that i shouldn't boast; but yet i do boast that i have made some little progress in this business. if i haven't yet practised the art in all its perfections, nevertheless i flatter myself i have learned how to practise it. regarding myself as something of a master of this art, and being actuated by purely philanthropic motives in my wish to make known my experience, i now put these memoirs before the public. it will, of course, be urged against me that i have not been successful in what i have already attempted, and that our house has failed. this is true. i have not been successful. our house has failed. but with whom has the fault been? certainly not in my department. the fact is, and in this my preface i will not keep the truth back from a discerning public, that no firm on earth,--or indeed elsewhere,--could be successful in which our mr. jones is one of the partners. there is an overweening vanity about that man which is quite upsetting. i confess i have been unable to stand it. vanity is always allied to folly, and the relationship is very close in the person of our mr. jones. of mr. brown i will never bring myself to say one disrespectful word. he is not now what he was once. from the bottom of my heart i pity his misfortunes. think what it must be to be papa to a goneril and a regan,--without the cordelia. i have always looked on mrs. jones as a regular goneril; and as for the regan, why it seems to me that miss brown is likely to be miss regan to the end of the chapter. no; of mr. brown i will say nothing disrespectful; but he never was the man to be first partner in an advertising firm. that was our mistake. he had old-fashioned views about capital which were very burdensome. my mistake was this,--that in joining myself with mr. brown, i compromised my principles, and held out, as it were, a left hand to capital. he had not much, as will be seen; but he thought a deal of what he had got, and talked a deal of it too. this impeded my wings. this prevented me from soaring. one cannot touch pitch and not be defiled. i have been untrue to myself in having had any dealings on the basis of capital; and hence has it arisen that hitherto i have failed. i make these confessions hoping that they may be serviceable to trade in general. a man cannot learn a great secret, and the full use of a great secret, all at once. my eyes are now open. i shall not again make so fatal a mistake. i am still young. i have now learned my lesson more thoroughly, and i yet anticipate success with some confidence. had mr. brown at once taken my advice, had his few thousand pounds been liberally expended in commencing a true system of advertising, we should have been,--i can hardly surmise where we should have been. he was for sticking altogether to the old system. mr. jones was for mixing the old and the new, for laying in stock and advertising as well, with a capital of , _l_! what my opinion is of mr. jones i will not now say, but of mr. brown i will never utter one word of disparagement. i have now expressed what few words i wish to say on my own bottom. as to what has been done in the following pages by the young man who has been employed to look over these memoirs and put them into shape, it is not for me to speak. it may be that i think they might have read more natural-like had no other cook had a finger in the pie. the facts, however, are facts still. these have not been cooked. ladies and gentlemen, you who have so long distinguished our firm by a liberal patronage, to you i now respectfully appeal, and in showing to you a new article i beg to assure you with perfect confidence that there is nothing equal to it at the price at present in the market. the supply on hand is immense, but as a sale of unprecedented rapidity is anticipated, may i respectfully solicit your early orders? if not approved of the article shall be changed. ladies and gentlemen, we have the honour to subscribe ourselves, with every respect, your most obedient humble servants, brown, jones, and robinson, per george robinson. chapter ii. the early history of our mr. brown, with some few words of mr. jones. o commerce, how wonderful are thy ways, how vast thy power, how invisible thy dominion! who can restrain thee and forbid thy further progress? kings are but as infants in thy hands, and emperors, despotic in all else, are bound to obey thee! thou civilizest, hast civilized, and wilt civilize. civilization is thy mission, and man's welfare thine appointed charge. the nation that most warmly fosters thee shall ever be the greatest in the earth; and without thee no nation shall endure for a day. thou art our alpha and our omega, our beginning and our end; the marrow of our bones, the salt of our life, the sap of our branches, the corner-stone of our temple, the rock of our foundation. we are built on thee, and for thee, and with thee. to worship thee should be man's chiefest care, to know thy hidden ways his chosen study. one maxim hast thou, o commerce, great and true and profitable above all others;--one law which thy votaries should never transgress. "buy in the cheapest market and sell in the dearest." may those divine words be ever found engraved on the hearts of brown, jones, and robinson! of mr. brown, the senior member of our firm, it is expedient that some short memoir should be given. at the time at which we signed our articles in --, mr. brown had just retired from the butter business. it does not appear that in his early youth he ever had the advantage of an apprenticeship, and he seems to have been employed in various branches of trade in the position, if one may say so, of an out-door messenger. in this capacity he entered the service of mr. mccockerell, a retail butter dealer in smithfield. when mr. mccockerell died our mr. brown married his widow, and thus found himself elevated at once to the full-blown dignity of a tradesman. he and his wife lived together for thirty years, and it is believed that in the temper of his lady he found some alloy to the prosperity which he had achieved. the widow mccockerell, in bestowing her person upon mr. brown, had not intended to endow him also with entire dominion over her shop and chattels. she loved to be supreme over her butter tubs, and she loved also to be supreme over her till. brown's views on the rights of women were more in accordance with the law of the land as laid down in the statutes. he opined that a _femme couverte_ could own no property, not even a butter tub;--and hence quarrels arose. after thirty years of contests such as these mr. brown found himself victorious, made so not by the power of arguments, nor by that of his own right arm, but by the demise of mrs. brown. that amiable lady died, leaving two daughters to lament their loss, and a series of family quarrels, by which she did whatever lay in her power to embarrass her husband, but by which she could not prevent him from becoming absolute owner of the butter business, and of the stock in trade. the two young ladies had not been brought up to the ways of the counter; and as mr. brown was not himself especially expert at that particular business in which his money was embarked, he prudently thought it expedient to dispose of the shop and goodwill. this he did to advantage; and thus at the age of fifty-five he found himself again on the world with , _l_. in his pocket. at this period one of his daughters was no longer under his own charge. sarah jane, the eldest of the two, was already mrs. jones. she had been captivated by the black hair and silk waistcoat of mr. jones, and had gone off with him in opposition to the wishes of both parents. this, she was aware, was not matter of much moment, for the opposition of one was sure to bring about a reconciliation with the other. and such was soon the case. mrs. brown would not see her daughter, or allow jones to put his foot inside the butter-shop. mr. brown consequently took lodgings for them in the neighbourhood, and hence a close alliance sprung up between the future partners. at this crisis maryanne devoted herself to her mother. it was admitted by all who knew her that maryanne brown had charms. at that time she was about twenty-four years of age, and was certainly a fine young woman. she was, like her mother, a little too much inclined to corpulence, and there may be those who would not allow that her hair was auburn. mr. robinson, however, who was then devotedly attached to her, was of that opinion, and was ready to maintain his views against any man who would dare to say that it was red. there was a dash about maryanne brown at that period which endeared her greatly to mr. robinson. she was quite above anything mean, and when her papa was left a widower in possession of four thousand pounds, she was one of those who were most anxious to induce him to go to work with spirit in a new business. she was all for advertising; that must be confessed of her, though her subsequent conduct was not all that it should have been. maryanne brown, when tried in the furnace, did not come out pure gold; but this, at any rate, shall be confessed in her behalf, that she had a dash about her, and understood more of the tricks of trade than any other of her family. mrs. mccockerell died about six months after her eldest daughter's marriage. she was generally called mrs. mccockerell in the neighbourhood of smithfield, though so many years had passed since she had lost her right to that name. indeed, she generally preferred being so styled, as mr. brown was peculiarly averse to it. the name was wormwood to him, and this was quite sufficient to give it melody in her ears. the good lady died about six months after her daughter's marriage. she was struck with apoplexy, and at that time had not been reconciled to her married daughter. sarah jane, nevertheless, when she heard what had occurred, came over to smithfield. her husband was then in employment as shopman at the large haberdashery house on snow hill, and lived with his wife in lodgings in cowcross street. they were supported nearly entirely by mr. brown, and therefore owed to him at this crisis not only obedience, but dutiful affection. when, however, sarah jane first heard of her mother's illness, she seemed to think that she couldn't quarrel with her father fast enough. jones had an idea that the old lady's money must go to her daughters, that she had the power of putting it altogether out of the hands of her husband, and that having the power she would certainly exercise it. on this speculation he had married; and as he and his wife fully concurred in their financial views, it was considered expedient by them to lose no time in asserting their right. this they did as soon as the breath was out of the old lady's body. jones had married sarah jane solely with this view; and, indeed, it was highly improbable that he should have done so on any other consideration. sarah jane was certainly not a handsome girl. her neck was scraggy, her arms lean, and her lips thin; and she resembled neither her father nor her mother. her light brown, sandy hair, which always looked as though it were too thin and too short to adapt itself to any feminine usage, was also not of her family; but her disposition was a compound of the paternal and maternal qualities. she had all her father's painful hesitating timidity, and with it all her mother's grasping spirit. if there ever was an eye that looked sharp after the pence, that could weigh the ounces of a servant's meal at a glance, and foresee and prevent the expenditure of a farthing, it was the eye of sarah jane brown. they say that it is as easy to save a fortune as to make one; and in this way, if in no other, jones may be said to have got a fortune with his wife. as soon as the breath was out of mrs. mccockerell's body, sarah jane was there, taking inventory of the stock. at that moment poor mr. brown was very much to be pitied. he was a man of feeling, and even if his heart was not touched by his late loss, he knew what was due to decency. it behoved him now as a widower to forget the deceased lady's faults, and to put her under the ground with solemnity. this was done with the strictest propriety; and although he must, of course, have been thinking a good deal at that time as to whether he was to be a beggar or a rich man, nevertheless he conducted himself till after the funeral as though he hadn't a care on his mind, except the loss of mrs. b. maryanne was as much on the alert as her sister. she had been for the last six months her mother's pet, as sarah jane had been her father's darling. there was some excuse, therefore, for maryanne when she endeavoured to get what she could in the scramble. sarah jane played the part of goneril to the life, and would have denied her father the barest necessaries of existence, had it not ultimately turned out that the property was his own. maryanne was not well pleased to see her sister returning to the house at such a moment. she, at least, had been dutiful to her mother, or, if undutiful, not openly so. if mrs. mccockerell had the power of leaving her property to whom she pleased, it would be only natural that she should leave it to the daughter who had obeyed her, and not to the daughter who had added to personal disobedience the worse fault of having been on friendly terms with her father. this, one would have thought, would have been clear at any rate to jones, if not to sarah jane; but they both seemed at this time to have imagined that the eldest child had some right to the inheritance as being the eldest. it will be observed by this and by many other traits in his character that mr. jones had never enjoyed the advantages of an education. mrs. mccockerell never spoke after the fit first struck her. she never moved an eye, or stirred a limb, or uttered a word. it was a wretched household at that time. the good lady died on a wednesday, and was gathered to her fathers at kensal green cemetery on the tuesday following. during the intervening days mr. jones and sarah jane took on themselves as though they were owners of everything. maryanne did try to prevent the inventory, not wishing it to appear that mrs. jones had any right to meddle; but the task was too congenial to sarah jane's spirit to allow of her giving it over. she revelled in the work. it was a delight to her to search out hidden stores of useless wealth,--to bring forth to the light forgotten hoards of cups and saucers, and to catalogue every rag on the premises. the house at this time was not a pleasant one. mr. brown, finding that jones, in whom he had trusted, had turned against him, put himself very much into the hands of a young friend of his, named george robinson. who and what george robinson was will be told in the next chapter. "there are three questions," said robinson, "to be asked and answered.--had mrs. b. the power to make a will? if so, did she make a will? and if so, what was the will she made?" mr. brown couldn't remember whether or no there had been any signing of papers at his marriage. a good deal of rum and water, he said, had been drunk; and there might have been signing too,--but he didn't remember it. then there was the search for the will. this was supposed to be in the hands of one brisket, a butcher, for whom it was known mrs. mccockerell had destined the hand of her younger daughter. mr. brisket had been a great favourite with the old lady, and she had often been heard to declare that he should have the wife and money, or the money without the wife. this she said to coerce maryanne into the match. but brisket, when questioned, declared that he had no will in his possession. at this time he kept aloof from the house and showed no disposition to meddle with the affairs of the family. indeed, all through these trying days he behaved honestly, if not with high feeling. in recounting the doings of brown, jones, and robinson, it will sometimes be necessary to refer to mr. brisket. he shall always be spoken of as an honest man. he did all that in him lay to mar the bright hopes of one who was perhaps not the most insignificant of that firm. he destroyed the matrimonial hopes of mr. robinson, and left him to wither like a blighted trunk on a lone waste. but he was, nevertheless, an honest man, and so much shall be said of him. let us never forget that "an honest man is the noblest work of god." brisket, when asked, said that he had no will, and that he knew of none. in fact there was no will forthcoming, and there is no doubt that the old woman was cut off before she had made one. it may also be premised that had she made one it would have been invalid, seeing that mr. brown, as husband, was, in fact, the owner of the whole affair. sarah jane and maryanne, when they found that no document was forthcoming, immediately gave out that they intended to take on themselves the duties of joint heiresses, and an alliance, offensive and defensive, was sworn between them. at this time mr. brown employed a lawyer, and the heiresses, together with jones, employed another. there could be no possible doubt as to mr. brown being the owner of the property, however infatuated on such a subject jones and his wife may have been. no lawyer in london could have thought that the young women had a leg to stand upon. nevertheless, the case was undertaken, and brown found himself in the middle of a lawsuit. sarah jane and maryanne both remained in the house in smithfield to guard the property on their own behalf. mr. brown also remained to guard it on his behalf. the business for a time was closed. this was done in opposition both to mr. brown and maryanne; but mrs. jones could not bring herself to permit the purchase of a firkin of butter, unless the transaction could be made absolutely under her own eyes; and, even then, she would insist on superintending the retail herself and selling every pound, short weight. it was the custom of the trade, she said; and to depart from it would ruin them. things were in this condition, going from bad to worse, when jones came over one evening, and begged an interview with mr. brown. that interview was the commencement of the partnership. from such small matters do great events arise. at that interview mr. robinson was present. mr. brown indeed declared that he would have no conversation with jones on business affairs, unless in the presence of a third party. jones represented that if they went on as they were now doing, the property would soon be swallowed up by the lawyers. to this mr. brown, whose forte was not eloquence, tacitly assented with a deep groan. "then," said jones, "let us divide it into three portions. you shall have one; sarah jane a second; and i will manage the third on behalf of my sister-in-law, maryanne. if we arrange it well, the lawyers will never get a shilling." the idea of a compromise appeared to mr. brown to be not uncommendable; but a compromise on such terms as those could not of course be listened to. robinson strongly counselled him to nail his colours to the mast, and kick mr. jones downstairs. but mr. brown had not spirit for this. "one's children is one's children," said he to robinson, when they went apart into the shop to talk the matter over. "the fruit of one's loins, and the prop of one's age." robinson could not help thinking that sarah jane was about as bad a prop as any that ever a man leant on; but he was too generous to say so. the matter was ended at last by a compromise. "go on with the business together," said robinson; "mr. brown keeping, of course, a preponderating share in his own hands." "i don't like butter," said jones. "nothing great can be done in butter." "it is a very safe line," said mr. brown, "if the connection is good." "the connection must have been a good deal damaged," said robinson, "seeing that the shop has been closed for a fortnight. besides, it's a woman's business;--and you have no woman to manage it," added he, fearing that mrs. jones might be brought in, to the detriment of all concerned. jones suggested haberdashery; robinson, guided by a strong idea that there is a more absolute opening for the advertising line in haberdashery than in any other business, assented. "then let it be haberdashery," said mr. brown, with a sigh. and so that was settled. chapter iii. the early history of mr. robinson. and haberdashery it was. but here it may be as well to say a few words as to mr. robinson, and to explain how he became a member of the firm. he had been in his boyhood,--a bill-sticker; and he defies the commercial world to show that he ever denied it. in his earlier days he carried the paste and pole, and earned a livelihood by putting up notices of theatrical announcements on the hoardings of the metropolis. there was, however, that within him which nature did not intend to throw away on the sticking of bills, as was found out quickly enough by those who employed him. the lad, while he was running the streets with his pole in his hand, and his pot round his neck, learned first to read, and then to write what others might read. from studying the bills which he carried, he soon took to original composition; and it may be said of him, that in fluency of language and richness of imagery few surpassed him. in person mr. robinson was a genteel young man, though it cannot be said of him that he possessed manly beauty. he was slight and active, intelligent in his physiognomy, and polite in his demeanour. perhaps it may be unnecessary to say anything further on this head. mr. robinson had already established himself as an author in his own line, and was supporting himself decently by his own unaided abilities, when he first met maryanne brown in the regent's park. she was then walking with her sister, and resolutely persisted in disregarding all those tokens of admiration which he found himself unable to restrain. there certainly was a dash about maryanne brown that at certain moments was invincible. hooped petticoats on the back of her sister looked like hoops, and awkward hoops. they were angular, lopsided, and lumpy. but maryanne wore her hoops as a duchess wears her crinoline. her well-starched muslin dress would swell off from her waist in a manner that was irresistible to george robinson. "such grouping!" as he said to his friend walker. "such a flow of drapery! such tournure! ah, my dear fellow, the artist's eye sees these things at a glance." and then, walking at a safe distance, he kept his eyes on them. "i'm sure that fellow's following us," said sarah jane, looking back at him with all her scorn. "there's no law against that, i suppose," said maryanne, tartly. so much as that mr. robinson did succeed in hearing. the girls entered their mother's house; but as they did so, maryanne lingered for a moment in the doorway. was it accident, or was it not? did the fair girl choose to give her admirer one chance, or was it that she was careful not to crush her starch by too rapid an entry? "i shall be in regent's park on sunday afternoon," whispered robinson, as he passed by the house, with his hand to his mouth. it need hardly be said that the lady vouchsafed him no reply. on the following sunday george robinson was again in the park, and after wandering among its rural shades for half a day, he was rewarded by seeing the goddess of his idolatry. miss brown was there with a companion, but not with sarah jane. he had already, as though by instinct, conceived in his heart as powerful an aversion for one sister as affection for the other, and his delight was therefore unbounded when he saw that she he loved was there, while she he hated was away. 'twere long to tell, at the commencement of this narrative, how a courtship was commenced and carried on; how robinson sighed, at first in vain and then not in vain; how good-natured was miss twizzle, the bosom friend of maryanne; and how robinson for a time walked and slept and fed on roses. there was at that time a music class held at a certain elegant room near osnaburgh church in the new road, at which maryanne and her friend miss twizzle were accustomed to attend. those lessons were sometimes prosecuted in the evening, and those evening studies sometimes resulted in a little dance. we may say that after a while that was their habitual tendency, and that the lady pupils were permitted to introduce their male friends on condition that the gentlemen paid a shilling each for the privilege. it was in that room that george robinson passed the happiest hours of his chequered existence. he was soon expert in all the figures of the mazy dance, and was excelled by no one in the agility of his step or the endurance of his performances. it was by degrees rumoured about that he was something higher than he seemed to be, and those best accustomed to the place used to call him the poet. it must be remembered that at this time mrs. mccockerell was still alive, and that as sarah jane had then become mrs. jones, maryanne was her mother's favourite, and destined to receive all her mother's gifts. of the name and person of william brisket, george robinson was then in happy ignorance, and the first introduction between them took place in the hall of harmony. 'twas about eleven o'clock in the evening, when the light feet of the happy dancers had already been active for some hour or so in the worship of their favourite muse, that robinson was standing up with his arm round his fair one's waist, immediately opposite to the door of entrance. his right arm still embraced her slight girdle, whilst with his left hand he wiped the perspiration from his brow. she leaned against him palpitating, for the motion of the music had been quick, and there had been some amicable contest among the couples. it is needless to say that george robinson and maryanne brown had suffered no defeat. at that moment a refreshing breeze of the night air was wafted into the room from the opened door, and robinson, looking up, saw before him a sturdy, thickset man, with mottled beefy face, and by his side there stood a spectre. "it's your sister," whispered he to maryanne, in a tone of horror. "oh, laws! there's bill," said she, and then she fainted. the gentleman with the mottled face was indeed no other than mr. brisket, the purveyor of meat, for whose arms mrs. mccockerell had destined the charms of her younger daughter. conduct baser than that of mrs. jones on this occasion is not perhaps recorded in history. she was no friend of brisket's. she had it not at heart to forward her mother's views. at this period of their lives she and her mother never met. but she had learned her sister's secret, and having it in her power to crush her sister's happiness, had availed herself of the opportunity. "there he is," said she, quite aloud, so that the whole room should hear. "he's a bill-sticker!" and she pointed the finger of scorn at her sister's lover. "i'm one who have always earned my own living," said robinson, "and never had occasion to hang on to any one." this he said knowing that jones's lodgings were paid for by mr. brown. hereupon mr. brisket walked across the room, and as he walked there was a cloud of anger on his brow. "perhaps, young man," he said,--and as he spoke he touched robinson on the shoulder,--"perhaps, young man, you wouldn't mind having a few words with me outside the door." "sir," said the other with some solemnity, "i am not aware that i have the honour of your acquaintance." "i'm william brisket, butcher," said he; "and if you don't come out when i asks you, by jingo, i'll carry you." the lady had fainted. the crowd of dancers was standing round, with inquiring faces. that female spectre repeated the odious words, still pointing at him with her finger, "he's a bill-sticker!" brisket was full fourteen stone, whereas robinson might perhaps be ten. what was robinson to do? "are you going to walk out, or am i going to carry you?" said the hercules of the slaughter-house. "i will do anything," said robinson, "to relieve a lady's embarrassment." they walked out on to the landing-place, whither not a few of the gentlemen and some of the ladies followed them. "i say, young man," said brisket, "do you know who that young woman is?" "i certainly have the honour of her acquaintance," said robinson. "but perhaps you haven't the honour of knowing that she's my wife,--as is to be. now you know it." and then the coarse monster eyed him from head to foot. "now you may go home to your mother," said he. "but don't tell her anything of it, because it's a secret." he was fifteen stone at least, and robinson was hardly ten. oh, how vile is the mastery which matter still has over mind in many of the concerns of life! how can a man withstand the assault of a bull? what was robinson to do? he walked downstairs into the street, leaving maryanne behind with the butcher. some days after this he contrived a meeting with his love, and he then learned the history of that engagement. "she hated brisket," she said. "he was odious to her. he was always greasy and smelt of meat;--but he had a respectable business." "and is my maryanne mercenary?" asked robinson. "now, george," said she, "it's no use you scolding me, and i won't be scolded. ma says that i must be civil to him, and i'm not going to quarrel with ma. at any rate not yet." "but surely, maryanne--" "it's no good you surelying me, george, for i won't be surelyed. if you don't like me you can leave me." "maryanne, i adore you." "that's all very well, and i hope you do; but why did you make a row with that man the other night?" "but, dearest love, he made the row with me." "and when you did make it," continued maryanne, "why didn't you see it out?" robinson did not find it easy to answer this accusation. that matter has still dominion over mind, though the days are coming when mind shall have dominion over matter, was a lesson which, in after days, it would be sweet to teach her. but at the present moment the time did not serve for such teaching. "a man must look after his own, george, or else he'll go to the wall," she said, with a sneer. and then he parted from her in anger. but his love did not on that account wax cool, and so in his misery he had recourse to their mutual friend, miss twizzle. "the truth is this," said miss twizzle, "i believe she'd take him, because he's respectable and got a business." "he's horribly vulgar," said robinson. "oh, bother!" said miss twizzle. "i know nothing about that. he's got a business, and whoever marries brisket won't have to look for a bed to sleep on. but there's a hitch about the money." then mr. robinson learned the facts. mrs. mccockerell, as she was still called, had promised to give her daughter five hundred pounds as her marriage portion, but mr. brisket would not go to the altar till he got the money. "he wanted to extend himself," he said, "and would not marry till he saw his way." hence had arisen that delay which maryanne had solaced by her attendance at the music-hall. "but if you're in earnest," said miss twizzle, "don't you be down on your luck. go to old brown, and make friends with him. he'll stand up for you, because he knows his wife favours brisket." george robinson did go to mr. brown, and on the father the young man's eloquence was not thrown away. "she shall be yours, mr. robinson," he said, after the first fortnight. "but we must be very careful with mrs. b." after the second fortnight mrs. b. was no more! and in this way it came to pass that george robinson was present as mr. brown's adviser when that scheme respecting the haberdashery was first set on foot. chapter iv. nine times nine is eighty-one. showing how brown, jones, and robinson selected their house of business. and haberdashery it was. but there was much yet to be done before any terms for a partnership could be settled. mr. jones at first insisted that he and his father-in-law should begin business on equal terms. he considered that any questions as to the actual right in the property would be mean after their mutual agreement to start in the world as friends. but to this mr. brown, not unnaturally, objected. "then i shall go back to my lawyer," said jones. whereupon he did leave the room, taking his hat with him; but he remained below in the old shop. "if i am to go into partnership with that man alone," said mr. brown, turning to his young friend almost in despair, "i may prepare for the gazette at once.--and for my grave!" he added, solemnly. "i'll join you," said robinson. "i haven't got any money. you know that. but then neither has he." "i wish you had a little," said mr. brown. "capital is capital, you know." "but i've got that which is better than capital," said robinson, touching his forehead with his forefinger. "and if you'll trust me, mr. brown, i won't see you put upon." the promise which mr. robinson then gave he kept ever afterwards with a marked fidelity. "i will trust you," said mr. brown. "it shall be brown, jones, and robinson." "and brown, jones, and robinson shall carry their heads high among the greatest commercial firms of this wealthy metropolis," said robinson, with an enthusiasm which was surely pardonable at such a moment. mr. jones soon returned with another compromise; but it was of a low, peddling nature. it had reference to sevenths and eighths, and went into the payments of the household bills. "i, as one of the partners, must object to any such arrangements," said robinson. "you!--you one of the partners!" said jones. "if you have no objection--certainly!" said robinson. "and if you should have any objection,--equally so." "you!--a bill-sticker!" said jones. in the presence of william brisket, george robinson had been forced to acknowledge that matter must still occasionally prevail over mind; but he felt no such necessity in the presence of jones. "i'll tell you what it is," said robinson; "i've never denied my former calling. among friends i often talk about it. but mind you, mr. jones, i won't bear it from you! i'm not very big myself, but i think i could stand up before you!" but in this quarrel they were stopped by mr. brown. "let dogs delight," he said or sung, "to bark and bite;--" and then he raised his two fat hands feebly, as though deprecating any further wrath. as usual on such occasions mr. robinson yielded, and then explained in very concise language the terms on which it was proposed that the partnership should be opened. mr. brown should put his "capital" into the business, and be entitled to half the profits. mr. jones and mr. robinson should give the firm the advantage of their youth, energies, and genius, and should each be held as the possessor of a quarter. that mr. jones made long and fierce objections to this, need hardly be stated. it is believed that he did, more than once, go back to his lawyer. but mr. brown, who, for the time, put himself into the hands of his youngest partner, remained firm, and at last the preliminaries were settled. the name of the house, the nature of the business, and the shares of the partners were now settled, and the site of the future labours of the firm became the next question. mr. brown was in favour of a small tenement in little britain, near to the entrance into smithfield. "there would not be scope there," said robinson. "and no fashion," said jones. "it's safe and respectable," pleaded mr. brown. "there have been shops in little britain these sixty years in the same families." but robinson was of opinion that the fortunes of the firm might not improbably be made in six, if only they would commence with sufficient distinction. he had ascertained that large and commanding premises might be had in st. paul's churchyard, in the frontage of which the square feet of plate glass could be counted by the hundred. it was true that the shop was nearly all window; but then, as mr. robinson said, an extended front of glass was the one thing necessary. and it was true also that the future tenants must pay down a thousand pounds before they entered;--but then, as he explained, how could they better expend the trifle of money which they possessed? "trifle of money!" said mr. brown, thinking of the mountains of butter and years of economy which had been required to put together those four thousand pounds;--thinking also, perhaps, of the absolute impecuniosity of his young partner who thus spoke. jones was for the west end and regent street. there was a shop only two doors off regent street, which could be made to look as if it was almost in regent street. the extension of a side piece of plate glass would show quite into regent street. he even prepared a card, describing the house as " doors from regent street," printing the figure and the words "regent street" very large, and the intermediate description very small. it was ever by such stale, inefficient artifices as these that he sought success. "who'll care for your card?" said robinson. "when a man's card comes to be of use to him, the thing's done. he's living in his villa by that time, and has his five thousand a-year out of the profits." "i hope you'll both have your willas before long," said brown, trying to keep his partners in good humour. "but a cottage _horney_ will be enough for me. i'd like to be able to give my children their bit of dinner on sunday hot and comfortable. i want no more than that." that was a hard battle, and it resulted in no victory. the dingy shop in little britain was, of course, out of the question; and mr. brown assisted robinson in preventing that insane attempt at aping the unprofitable glories of regent street. the matter ended in another compromise, and a house was taken in bishopsgate street, of which the frontage was extensive and commanding, but as to which it must certainly be confessed that the back part of the premises was inconveniently confined. "it isn't exactly all i could wish," said robinson, standing on the pavement as he surveyed it. "but it will do. with a little originality and some dash, we'll make it do. we must give it a name." "a name?" said mr. brown; "it's , bishopsgate street; ain't it? they don't call houses names in london." "that's just why we'll have a name for ours, mr. brown." "the 'albert emporium,'" suggested jones; "or 'victoria mart.'" mr. jones, as will be seen, was given to tuft-hunting to the backbone. his great ambition was to have a lion and unicorn, and to call himself haberdasher to a royal prince. he had never realized the fact that profit, like power, comes from the people, and not from the court. "i wouldn't put up the queen's arms if the queen came and asked me," robinson once said in answer to him. "that game has been played out, and it isn't worth the cost of the two wooden figures." "'the temple of fashion' would do very well," said jones. "the temple of fiddlestick!" said robinson. "of course you say so," said jones. "let dogs delight--" began mr. brown, standing as we were in the middle of the street. "i'll tell you what," said robinson; "there's nothing like colour. we'll call it magenta house, and we'll paint it magenta from the roof to the window tops." this beautiful tint had only then been invented, and it was necessary to explain the word to mr. brown. he merely remarked that the oil and paint would come to a deal of money, and then gave way. jones was struck dumb by the brilliancy of the idea, and for once forgot to object. "and, i'll tell you what," said robinson--"nine times nine is eighty-one." "certainly, certainly," said mr. brown, who delighted to agree with his younger partner when circumstances admitted it. "you are right there, certainly." jones was observed to go through the multiplication table mentally, but he could detect no error. "nine times nine is eighty-one," repeated robinson with confidence, "and we'll put that fact up over the first-floor windows." and so they did. the house was painted magenta colour from top to bottom. and on the front in very large figures and letters, was stated the undoubted fact that nine times nine is . "if they will only call us 'the nine times nine,' the thing is done," said robinson. nevertheless, the house was christened magenta house. "and now about glass," said robinson, when the three had retired to the little back room within. mr. robinson, however, admitted afterwards that he was wrong about the colour and the number. such methods of obtaining attention were, he said, too easy of imitation, and devoid of any inherent attraction of their own. people would not care for nine times nine in bishopsgate street, if there were nine times nines in other streets as well. "no," said he; "i was but beginning, and made errors as beginners do. outside there should be glass, gas, gold, and glare. inside there should be the same, with plenty of brass, and if possible a little wit. if those won't do it, nothing will." all the same the magenta colour and the nine times nine did have their effect. "nine times nine is eighty-one," was printed on the top of all the flying advertisements issued by the firm, and the printing was all done in magenta. mr. brown groaned sorely over the expenditure that was necessary in preparation of the premises. his wish was that this should be paid for in ready money; and indeed it was necessary that this should be done to a certain extent. but the great object should have been to retain every available shilling for advertisements. in the way of absolute capital,--money to be paid for stock,-- , _l._ was nothing. but , _l._ scattered broadcast through the metropolis on walls, omnibuses, railway stations, little books, pavement chalkings, illuminated notices, porters' backs, gilded cars, and men in armour, would have driven nine times nine into the memory of half the inhabitants of london. the men in armour were tried. four suits were obtained in poland street, and four strong men were hired who rode about town all day on four brewers' horses. they carried poles with large banners, and on the banners were inscribed the words which formed the shibboleth of the firm;-- _magenta house_, times is , bishopsgate street. and four times a day these four men in armour met each other in front of the windows of the house, and stood there on horseback for fifteen minutes, with their backs to the curbstone. the forage, however, of the horses became so terribly large an item of expenditure that mr. brown's heart failed him. his heart failed him, and he himself went off late one evening to the livery stable-keeper who supplied the horses, and in mr. robinson's absence, the armour was sent back to poland street. "we should have had the police down upon us, george," said mr. brown, deprecating the anger of his younger partner. "and what better advertisement could you have wished?" said robinson. "it would have been in all the papers, and have cost nothing." "but you don't know, george, what them beastesses was eating! it was frightful to hear of! four-and-twenty pounds of corn a day each of 'em, because the armour was so uncommon heavy." the men in armour were then given up, but they certainly were beginning to be effective. at p.m., when the men were there, it had become impossible to pass the shop without going into the middle of the street, and on one or two occasions the policemen had spoken to mr. brown. then there was a slight accident with a child, and the newspapers had interfered. but we are anticipating the story, for the men in armour did not begin their operations till the shop had been opened. "and now about glass," said robinson, as soon as the three partners had retired from the outside flags into the interior of the house. "it must be plate, of course," said jones. plate! he might as well have said when wanting a house, that it must have walls. "i rather think so," said robinson; "and a good deal of it." "i don't mind a good-sized common window," said brown. "a deal better have them uncommon," said robinson, interrupting him. "and remember, sir, there's nothing like glass in these days. it has superseded leather altogether in that respect." "leather!" said mr. brown, who was hardly quick enough for his junior partner. "of all our materials now in general use," said robinson, "glass is the most brilliant, and yet the cheapest; the most graceful and yet the strongest. though transparent it is impervious to wet. the eye travels through it, but not the hailstorm. to the power of gas it affords no obstacle, but is as efficient a barrier against the casualties of the street as an iron shutter. to that which is ordinary it lends a grace; and to that which is graceful it gives a double lustre. like a good advertisement, it multiplies your stock tenfold, and like a good servant, it is always eloquent in praise of its owner. i look upon plate glass, sir, as the most glorious product of the age; and i regard the tradesman who can surround himself with the greatest quantity of it, as the most in advance of the tradesmen of his day. oh, sir, whatever we do, let us have glass." "it's beautiful to hear him talk," said mr. brown; "but it's the bill i'm a thinking of." "if you will only go enough ahead, mr. brown, you'll find that nobody will trouble you with such bills." "but they must be paid some day, george." "of course they must; but it will never do to think of that now. in twelve months or so, when we have set the house well going, the payment of such bills as that will be a mere nothing,--a thing that will be passed as an item not worth notice. faint heart never won fair lady, you know, mr. brown." and then a cloud came across george robinson's brow as he thought of the words he had spoken; for his heart had once been faint, and his fair lady was by no means won. "that's quite true," said jones; "it never does. ha! ha! ha!" then the cloud went away from george robinson's brow, and a stern frown of settled resolution took its place. at that moment he made up his mind, that when he might again meet that giant butcher he would forget the difference in their size, and accost him as though they two were equal. what though some fell blow, levelled as at an ox, should lay him low for ever. better that, than endure from day to day the unanswered taunts of such a one as jones! mr. brown, though he was not quick-witted, was not deficient when the feelings of man and man were concerned. he understood it all, and taking advantage of a moment when jones had stepped up the shop, he pressed robinson's hand and said,--"you shall have her, george. if a father's word is worth anything, you shall have her." but in this case,--as in so many others,--a father's word was not worth anything. "but to business!" said robinson, shaking off from him all thoughts of love. after that mr. brown had not the heart to oppose him respecting the glass, and in that matter he had everything nearly his own way. the premises stood advantageously at the comer of a little alley, so that the window was made to jut out sideways in that direction, and a full foot and a half was gained. on the other side the house did not stand flush with its neighbour,--as is not unfrequently the case in bishopsgate street,--and here also a few inches were made available. the next neighbour, a quiet old man who sold sticks, threatened a lawsuit; but that, had it been instituted, would have got into the newspapers and been an advertisement. there was considerable trouble about the entrance. a wide, commanding centre doorway was essential; but this, if made in the desirable proportions, would have terribly crippled the side windows. to obviate this difficulty, the exterior space allotted for the entrance between the frontage of the two windows was broad and noble, but the glass splayed inwards towards the shop, so that the absolute door was decidedly narrow. "when we come to have a crowd, they won't get in and out," said jones. "if we could only crush a few to death in the doorway our fortune would be made," said robinson. "god forbid!" said mr. brown; "god forbid! let us have no bloodshed, whatever we do." in about a month the house was completed, and much to the regret of both the junior partners, a considerable sum of ready money was paid to the tradesmen who performed the work. mr. jones was of opinion that by sufficient cunning such payments might be altogether evaded. no such thought rested for a moment in the bosom of mr. robinson. all tradesmen should be paid, and paid well. but the great firm of brown, jones, and robinson would be much less likely to scrutinize the price at which plate glass was charged to them per square foot, when they were taking their hundreds a day over the counter, than they would be now when every shilling was of importance to them. "for their own sake you shouldn't do it," said he to mr. brown. "you may be quite sure they don't like it." "i always liked it myself," said mr. brown. and thus he would make little dribbling payments, by which an unfortunate idea was generated in the neighbourhood that money was not plentiful with the firm. chapter v. the division of labour. there were two other chief matters to which it was now necessary that the firm should attend; the first and primary being the stock of advertisements which should be issued; and the other, or secondary, being the stock of goods which should be obtained to answer the expectations raised by those advertisements. "but, george, we must have something to sell," said mr. brown, almost in despair. he did not then understand, and never since has learned the secrets of that commercial science which his younger partner was at so much pains to teach. there are things which no elderly man can learn; and there are lessons which are full of light for the new recruit, but dark as death to the old veteran. "it will be so doubtless with me also," said robinson, soliloquizing on the subject in his melancholy mood. "the day will come when i too must be pushed from my stool by the workings of younger genius, and shall sink, as poor mr. brown is now sinking, into the foggy depths of fogeydom. but a man who is a man--" and then that melancholy mood left him, "can surely make his fortune before that day comes. when a merchant is known to be worth half a million, his fogeydom is respected." that necessity of having something to sell almost overcame mr. brown in those days. "what's the good of putting down , kolinski and minx boas in the bill, if we don't possess one in the shop?" he asked; "we must have some if they're asked for." he could not understand that for a first start effect is everything. if customers should want kolinski boas, kolinski boas would of course be forthcoming,--to any number required; either kolinski boas, or quasi kolinski, which in trade is admitted to be the same thing. when a man advertises that he has , new paletots, he does not mean that he has got that number packed up in a box. if required to do so, he will supply them to that extent,--or to any further extent. a long row of figures in trade is but an elegant use of the superlative. if a tradesman can induce a lady to buy a diagonal osnabruck cashmere shawl by telling her that he has , of them, who is injured? and if the shawl is not exactly a real diagonal osnabruck cashmere, what harm is done as long as the lady gets the value for her money? and if she don't get the value for her money, whose fault is that? isn't it a fair stand-up fight? and when she tries to buy for _l._, a shawl which she thinks is worth about _l._, isn't she dealing on the same principles herself? if she be lucky enough to possess credit, the shawl is sent home without payment, and three years afterwards fifty per cent. is perhaps offered for settlement of the bill. it is a fair fight, and the ladies are very well able to take care of themselves. and jones also thought they must have something to sell. "money is money," said he, "and goods is goods. what's the use of windows if we haven't anything to dress them? and what's the use of capital unless we buy a stock?" with mr. jones, george robinson never cared to argue. the absolute impossibility of pouring the slightest ray of commercial light into the dim chaos of that murky mind had long since come home to him. he merely shook his head, and went on with the composition on which he was engaged. it need hardly be explained here that he had no idea of encountering the public throng on their opening day, without an adequate assortment of goods. of course there must be shawls and cloaks; of course there must be muffs and boas; of course there must be hose and handkerchiefs. that dressing of the windows was to be the special care of mr. jones, and robinson would take care that there should be the wherewithal. the dressing of the windows, and the parading of the shop, was to be the work of jones. his ambition had never soared above that, and while serving in the house on snow hill, his utmost envy had been excited by the youthful aspirant who there walked the boards, and with an oily courtesy handed chairs to the ladies. for one short week he had been allowed to enter this paradise. "and though i looked so sweet on them," said he, "i always had my eye on them. it's a grand thing to be down on a well-dressed woman as she's hiding a roll of ribbon under her cloak." that was his idea of grandeur! a stock of goods was of course necessary, but if the firm could only get their name sufficiently established, that matter would be arranged simply by written orders to two or three wholesale houses. competition, that beautiful science of the present day, by which every plodding cart-horse is converted into a racer, makes this easy enough. when it should once become known that a firm was opening itself on a great scale in a good thoroughfare, and advertising on real, intelligible principles, there would be no lack of goods. "you can have any amount of hose you want, out of cannon street," said mr. robinson, "in forty-five minutes. they can be brought in at the back while you are selling them over the counter." "can they?" said mr. brown: "perhaps they can. but nevertheless, george, i think i'll buy a few. it'll be an ease to my mind." he did so; but it was a suicidal act on his part. one thing was quite clear, even to mr. jones. if the firm commenced business to the extent which they contemplated, it was out of the question that they should do everything on the ready-money principle. that such a principle is antiquated, absurd, and uncommercial; that it is opposed to the whole system of trade as now adopted in this metropolis, has been clearly shown in the preface to these memoirs. but in this instance, in the case of brown, jones, and robinson, the doing so was as impracticable as it would have been foolish, if practicable. credit and credit only was required. but of all modes of extinguishing credit, of crushing, as it were, the young baby in its cradle, there is none equal to that of spending a little ready money, and then halting. in trade as in love, to doubt,--or rather, to seem to doubt,--is to be lost. when you order goods, do so as though the bank were at your back. look your victim full in the face, and write down your long numbers without a falter in your pen. and should there seem a hesitation on his part, do not affect to understand it. when the articles are secured, you give your bill at six months' date; then your credit at your bankers,--your discount system,--commences. that is another affair. when once your bank begins that with you,--and the banks must do so, or they may put up their shutters,--when once your bank has commenced, it must carry on the game. you are floated then, placed well in the centre of the full stream of commerce, and it must be your own fault if you do not either retire with half a million, or become bankrupt with an éclat, which is worth more than any capital in refitting you for a further attempt. in the meantime it need hardly be said that you yourself are living on the very fat of the land. but birds of a feather should flock together, and mr. brown and mr. robinson were not exactly of the same plumage. it was finally arranged that mr. robinson should have carte blanche at his own particular line of business, to the extent of fifteen hundred pounds, and that mr. brown should go into the warehouse and lay out a similar sum in goods. both jones and mrs. jones accompanied the old man, and a sore time he had of it. it may here be remarked that mrs. jones struggled very hard to get a footing in the shop, but on this point it should be acknowledged that her husband did his duty for a while. "it must be you or i, sarah jane," said he; "but not both." "i have no objection in life," said she; "you can stay at home, if you please." "by no means," he replied. "if you come here, and your father permits it, i shall go to america. of course the firm will allow me for my share." she tried it on very often after that, and gave the firm much trouble, but i don't think she got her hand into the cash drawer above once or twice during the first twelve months. the division of labour was finally arranged as follows. mr. brown was to order the goods; to hire the young men and women, look after their morality, and pay them their wages; to listen to any special applications when a desire might be expressed to see the firm; and to do the heavy respectable parental business. there was a little back room with a sky-light, in which he was to sit; and when he was properly got up, his manner of shaking his head at the young people who misbehaved themselves, was not ineffective. there is always danger when young men and women are employed together in the same shop, and if possible this should be avoided. it is not in human nature that they should not fall in love, or at any rate amuse themselves with ordinary flirtations. now the rule is that not a word shall be spoken that does not refer to business. "miss o'brien, where is the salmon-coloured sarsenet? or, mr. green, i'll trouble you for the ladies' sevens." nothing is ever spoken beyond that. "morals, morals, above everything!" mr. brown was once heard to shout from his little room, when a whisper had been going round the shop as to a concerted visit to the crystal palace. why a visit to the crystal palace should be immoral, when talked of over the counter, mr. brown did not explain on that occasion. "a very nice set of young women," the compiler of these memoirs once remarked to a commercial gentleman in a large way, who was showing him over his business, "and for the most part very good-looking." "yes, sir, yes; we attend to their morals especially. they generally marry from us, and become the happy mothers of families." "ah," said i, really delighted in my innocence. "they've excellent opportunities for that, because there are so many decent young men about." he turned on me as though i had calumniated his establishment with a libel of the vilest description. "if a whisper of such a thing ever reaches us, sir," said he, quite alive with virtuous indignation; "if such a suspicion is ever engendered, we send them packing at once! the morals of our young women, sir--" and then he finished his sentence simply by a shake of his head. i tried to bring him into an argument, and endeavoured to make him understand that no young woman can become a happy wife unless she first be allowed to have a lover. he merely shook his head, and at last stamped his foot. "morals, sir!" he repeated. "morals above everything. in such an establishment as this, if we are not moral, we are nothing." i supposed he was right, but it seemed to me to be very hard on the young men and women. i could only hope that they walked home together in the evening. in the new firm in bishopsgate street, mr. brown, of course, took upon himself that branch of business, and some little trouble he had, because his own son-in-law and partner would make eyes to the customers. "mr. jones," he once said before them all; "you'll bring down my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave; you will, indeed." and then he put up his fat hand, and gently stroked the white expanse of his bald pate. but that was a very memorable occasion. such was mr. brown's business. to mr. jones was allocated the duty of seeing that the shop was duly dressed, of looking after the customers, including that special duty of guarding against shop-lifting, and of attending generally to the retail business. it cannot be denied that for this sort of work he had some specialties. his eye was sharp, and his ear was keen, and his feelings were blunt. in a certain way, he was good-looking, and he knew how to hand a chair with a bow and smile, which went far with the wives and daughters of the east end little tradesmen,--and he was active enough at his work. he was usually to be seen standing in the front of the shop, about six yards within the door, rubbing his hands together, or arranging his locks, or twiddling with his brass watch-chain. nothing disconcerted him, unless his wife walked into the place; and then, to the great delight of the young men and women, he was unable to conceal his misery. by them he was hated,--as was perhaps necessary in his position. he was a tyrant, who liked to feel at every moment the relish of his power. to the poor girls he was cruel, treating them as though they were dirt beneath his feet. for mr. jones, though he affected the reputation of an admirer of the fair sex, never forgot himself by being even civil to a female who was his paid servant. woman's smile had a charm for him, but no charm equal to the servility of dependence. but on the shoulders of mr. robinson fell the great burden of the business. there was a question as to the accounts; these, however, he undertook to keep in his leisure moments, thinking but little of the task. but the work of his life was to be the advertising department. he was to draw up the posters; he was to write those little books which, printed on magenta-coloured paper, were to be thrown with reckless prodigality into every vehicle in the town; he was to arrange new methods of alluring the public into that emporium of fashion. it was for him to make a credulous multitude believe that at that shop, number nine times nine in bishopsgate street, goods of all sorts were to be purchased at prices considerably less than the original cost of their manufacture. this he undertook to do; this for a time he did do; this for years to come he would have done, had he not experienced an interference in his own department, by which the whole firm was ultimately ruined and sent adrift. "the great thing is to get our bills into the hands of the public," said robinson. "you can get men for one and nine a day to stand still and hand 'em out to the passers-by," said mr. brown. "that's stale, sir, quite stale; novelty in advertising is what we require;--something new and startling." "put a chimney-pot on the man's head," said mr. brown, "and make it two and three." "that's been tried," said robinson. "then put two chimney-pots," said mr. brown. beyond that his imagination did not carry him. chimney-pots and lanterns on men's heads avail nothing. to startle men and women to any purpose, and drive them into bishopsgate street, you must startle them a great deal. it does not suffice to create a momentary wonder. mr. robinson, therefore, began with eight footmen in full livery, with powdered hair and gold tags to their shoulders. they had magenta-coloured plush knee-breeches, and magenta-coloured silk stockings. it was in may, and the weather was fine, and these eight excellently got-up london footmen were stationed at different points in the city, each with a silken bag suspended round his shoulder by a silken cord. from these bags they drew forth the advertising cards of the house, and presented them to such of the passers-by as appeared from their dress and physiognomy to be available for the purpose. the fact has now been ascertained that men and women who have money to spend will not put out their hands to accept common bills from street advertisers. in an ordinary way the money so spent is thrown away. but from these men, arrayed in gorgeous livery, a duchess would have stayed her steps to accept a card. and duchesses did stay their steps, and cards from the young firm of brown, jones, and robinson were, as the firm was credibly informed, placed beneath the eyes of a very illustrious personage indeed. the nature of the card was this. it was folded into three, and when so folded, was of the size of an ordinary playing card. on the outside, which bore a satin glaze with a magenta tint, there was a blank space as though for an address, and the compliments of the firm in the corner; when opened there was a separate note inside, in which the public were informed in very few words, that "messrs. brown, jones, and robinson were prepared to open their house on the th of may, intending to carry on their trade on principles of commerce perfectly new, and hitherto untried. the present rate of money in the city was five per cent., and it would be the practice of the firm to charge five and a half per cent. on every article sold by them. the very quick return which this would give them, would enable b. j. and r. to realize princely fortunes, and at the same time to place within the reach of the public goods of the very best description at prices much below any that had ever yet been quoted." this also was printed on magenta-coloured paper, and "nine times nine is eighty-one" was inserted both at the top and the bottom. on the inside of the card, on the three folds, were printed lists of the goods offered to the public. the three headings were "cloaks and shawls," "furs and velvets," "silks and satins;" and in a small note at the bottom it was stated that the stock of hosiery, handkerchiefs, ribbons, and gloves, was sufficient to meet any demand which the metropolis could make upon the firm. when that list was first read out in conclave to the partners, mr. brown begged almost with tears in his eyes, that it might be modified. "george," said he, "we shall be exposed." "i hope we shall," said robinson. "exposition is all that we desire." "eight thousand african monkey muffs! oh, george, you must leave out the monkey muffs." "by no means, mr. brown." "or bring them down to a few hundreds. two hundred african monkey muffs would really be a great many." "mr. brown," said robinson on that occasion;--and it may be doubted whether he ever again spoke to the senior partner of his firm in terms so imperious and decisive; "mr. brown, to you has been allotted your share in our work, and when you insisted on throwing away our ready money on those cheap manchester prints, i never said a word. it lay in your department to do so. the composition of this card lies in mine, and i mean to exercise my own judgment." and then he went on, "eight thousand real african monkey muffs; six thousand ditto, ditto, ditto, very superior, with long fine hair." mr. brown merely groaned, but he said nothing further. "couldn't you say that they are such as are worn by the princess alice?" suggested jones. "no, i could not," answered robinson. "you may tell them that in the shop if you please. that will lie in your department." in this way was the first card of the firm drawn out, and in the space of a fortnight, nineteen thousand of them were disseminated through the metropolis. when it is declared that each of those cards cost b. j. and r. threepence three farthings, some idea may be formed of the style in which they commenced their operations. chapter vi. it is our opening day. and now the day had arrived on which the firm was to try the result of their efforts. it is believed that the th of may in that year will not easily be forgotten in the neighbourhood of bishopsgate street. it was on this day that the experiment of the men in armour was first tried, and the four cavaliers, all mounted and polished as bright as brass, were stationed in the front of the house by nine o'clock. there they remained till the doors and shop windows were opened, which ceremony actually took place at twelve. it had been stated to the town on the preceding day by a man dressed as fame, with a long horn, who had been driven about in a gilt car, that this would be done at ten. but peeping through the iron shutters at that hour, the gentlemen of the firm saw that the crowd was as yet by no means great. so a huge poster was put up outside each window:-- postponed till eleven. immense pressure of goods in the back premises. at eleven this was done again; but at twelve the house was really opened. at that time the car with fame and the long horn was stationed in front of the men in armour, and there really was a considerable concourse of people. "this won't do, mr. brown," a policeman had said. "the people are half across the street." "success! success!" shouted mr. robinson, from the first landing on the stairs. he was busy correcting the proofs of their second set of notices to the public. "shall we open, george?" whispered mr. brown, who was rather flurried. "yes; you may as well begin," said he. "it must be done sooner or later." and then he retired quietly to his work. he had allowed himself to be elated for one moment at the interference of the police, but after that he remained above, absorbed in his work; or if not so absorbed, disdaining to mix with the crowd below. for there, in the centre of the shop, leaning on the arm of mr. william brisket, stood maryanne brown. as regards grouping, there was certainly some propriety in the arrangements made for receiving the public. when the iron shutters were wound up, the young men of the establishment stood in a row behind one of the counters, and the young women behind the other. they were very nicely got up for the occasion. the girls were all decorated with magenta-coloured ribbons, and the young men with magenta neckties. mr. jones had been very anxious to charge them for these articles in their wages, but mr. brown's good feeling had prevented this. "no, jones, no; the master always finds the livery." there had been something in the words, master and livery, which had tickled the ears of his son-in-law, and so the matter had been allowed to pass by. in the centre of the shop stood mr. brown, very nicely dressed in a new suit of black. that bald head of his, and the way he had of rubbing his hands together, were not ill-calculated to create respect. but on such occasions it was always necessary to induce him to hold his tongue. mr. brown never spoke effectively unless he had been first moved almost to tears. it was now his special business to smile, and he did smile. on his right hand stood his partner and son-in-law jones, mounted quite irrespectively of expense. his waistcoat and cravat may be said to have been gorgeous, and from his silky locks there came distilled a mixed odour of musk and patchouli. about his neck also the colours of the house were displayed, and in his hand he waved a magenta handkerchief. his wife was leaning on his arm, and on such an occasion as this even robinson had consented to her presence. she was dressed from head to foot in magenta. she wore a magenta bonnet, and magenta stockings, and it was said of her that she was very careful to allow the latter article to be seen. the only beauty of which sarah jane could boast, rested in her feet and ankles. but on the other side of mr. brown stood a pair, for whose presence there george robinson had not expressed his approbation, and as to one of whom it may be said that better taste would have been shown on all sides had he not thus intruded himself. mr. brisket had none of the rights of proprietorship in that house, nor would it be possible that he should have as long as the name of the firm contained within itself that of mr. robinson. had brown, jones, and brisket agreed to open shop together, it would have been well for brisket to stand there with that magenta shawl round his neck, and waving that magenta towel in his hand. but as it was, what business had he there? "what business has he there? ah, tell me that; what business has he there?" said robinson to himself, as he sat moodily in the small back room upstairs. "ah, tell me that, what business has he here? did not the old man promise that she should be mine? is it for him that i have done all; for him that i have collected the eager crowd of purchasers that throng the hall of commerce below, which my taste has decorated? or for her--? have i done this for her,--the false one? but what recks it? she shall live to know that had she been constant to me she might have sat--almost upon a throne!" and then he rushed again to his work, and with eager pen struck off those well-known lines about the house which some short time after ravished the ears of the metropolis. in a following chapter of these memoirs it will be necessary to go back for a while to the domestic life of some of the persons concerned, and the fact of mr. brisket's presence at the opening of the house will then be explained. in the meantime the gentle reader is entreated to take it for granted that mr. william brisket was actually there, standing on the left hand of mr. brown, waving high above his head a huge magenta cotton handkerchief, and that on his other arm was hanging maryanne brown, leaning quite as closely upon him as her sister did upon the support which was her own. for one moment george robinson allowed himself to look down upon the scene, and he plainly saw that clutch of the hand upon the sleeve. "big as he is," said robinson to himself, "pistols would make us equal. but the huge ox has no sense of chivalry." it was unfortunate for the future intrinsic comfort of the firm that that member of it who was certainly not the least enterprising should have found himself unable to join in the ceremony of opening the house; but, nevertheless, it must be admitted that that ceremony was imposing. maryanne brown was looking her best, and dressed as she was in the correctest taste of the day, wearing of course the colours of the house, it was not unnatural that all eyes should be turned on her. "what a big man that robinson is!" some one in the crowd was heard to observe. yes; that huge lump of human clay that called itself william brisket, the butcher of aldersgate street, was actually taken on that occasion for the soul, and life, and salt of an advertising house. of mr. william brisket, it may here be said, that he had no other idea of trade than that of selling at so much per pound the beef which he had slaughtered with his own hands. but that ceremony was imposing. "ladies and gentlemen," said those five there assembled--speaking as it were with one voice,--"we bid you welcome to magenta house. nine times nine is eighty-one. never forget that." robinson had planned the words, but he was not there to assist at their utterance! "ladies and gentlemen, again we bid you welcome to magenta house." and then they retired backwards down the shop, allowing the crowd to press forward, and all packed themselves for awhile into mr. brown's little room at the back. "it was smart," said mr. brisket. "and went off uncommon well," said jones, shaking the scent from his head. "all the better, too, because that chap wasn't here." "he's a clever fellow," said brisket. "and you shouldn't speak against him behind his back, jones. who did it all? and who couldn't have done it if he hadn't been here?" when these words were afterwards told to george robinson, he forgave mr. brown a great deal. the architect, acting under the direction of mr. robinson, had contrived to arch the roof, supporting it on five semicircular iron girders, which were left there visible to the eye, and which were of course painted magenta. on the foremost of these was displayed the name of the firm,--brown, jones, and robinson. on the second, the name of the house,--magenta house. on the third the number,--nine times nine is eighty one. on the fourth, an edict of trade against which retail houses in the haberdashery line should never sin,--"terms: ready cash." and on the last, the special principle of our trade,--"five-and-a-half per cent. profit." the back of the shop was closed in with magenta curtains, through which the bald head of mr. brown would not unfrequently be seen to emerge; and on each side of the curtains there stood a tall mirror, reaching up to the very ceiling. upon the whole, the thing certainly was well done. "but the contractor,"--the man who did the work was called the contractor,--"the contractor says that he will want the rest of his money in two months," said mr. brown, whining. "he would not have wanted any for the next twelve months," answered robinson, "if you had not insisted on paying him those few hundreds." "you can find fault with the bill, you know," said jones, "and delay it almost any time by threatening him with a lawyer." "and then he will put a distress on us," said mr. brown. "and after that will be very happy to take our bill at six months," answered robinson. and so that matter was ended for the time. those men in armour stood there the whole of that day, and fame in his gilded car used his trumpet up and down bishopsgate street with such effect, that the people living on each side of the street became very sick of him. fame himself was well acted,--at _s._ the day,--and when the triumphal car remained still, stood balanced on one leg, with the other stretched out behind, in a manner that riveted attention. but no doubt his horn was badly chosen. mr. robinson insisted on a long single-tubed instrument, saying that it was classical; but a cornet à piston would have given more pleasure. a good deal of money was taken on that day; but certainly not so much as had been anticipated. very many articles were asked for, looked at, and then not purchased. but this, though it occasioned grief to mr. brown, was really not of much moment. that the thing should be talked of,--if possible mentioned in the newspapers--was the object of the firm. "i would give my bond for , _l._," said robinson, "to get a leader in the jupiter." the first article demanded over the counter was a real african monkey muff, very superior, with long fine hair. "the ships which are bringing them have not yet arrived from the coast," answered jones, who luckily stepped up at the moment. "they are expected in the docks to-morrow." chapter vii. miss brown pleads her own case, and mr. robinson walks on blackfriars bridge. at the time of mrs. mccockerell's death robinson and maryanne brown were not on comfortable terms with each other. she had twitted him with being remiss in asserting his own rights in the presence of his rival, and he had accused her of being fickle, if not actually false. "i shall be just as fickle as i please," she said. "if it suits me i'll have nine to follow me; but there shan't be one of the nine who won't hold up his head and look after his own." "your conduct, maryanne--." "george, i won't be scolded, and that you ought to know. if you don't like me, you are quite welcome to do the other thing." and then they parted. this took place after mr. brown's adherence to the robinson interest, and while brisket was waiting passively to see if that five hundred pounds would be forthcoming. their next meeting was in the presence of mr. brown; and on that occasion all the three spoke out their intentions on the subject of their future family arrangements, certainly with much plain language, if not on every side with positive truth. mr. robinson was at the house in smithfield, giving counsel to old mr. brown as to the contest which was then being urged between him and his son-in-law. at that period the two sisters conceived that their joint pecuniary interests required that they should act together; and it must be acknowledged that they led poor mr. brown a sad life of it. he and robinson were sitting upstairs in the little back room looking out into spavinhorse yard, when maryanne abruptly broke in upon them. "father," she said, standing upright in the middle of the room before them, "i have come to know what it is that you mean to do?" "to do, my dear?" said old mr. brown. "yes; to do. i suppose something is to be done some day. we ain't always to go on shilly-shallying, spending the money, and ruining the business, and living from hand to mouth, as though there was no end to anything. i've got myself to look to, and i don't mean to go into the workhouse if i can help it!" "the workhouse, maryanne!" "i said the workhouse, father, and i meant it. if everybody had what was justly their own, i shouldn't have to talk in that way. but as far as i can see, them sharks, the lawyers, will have it all. now, i'll tell you what it is--" hitherto robinson had not said a word; but at this moment he thought it right to interfere. "maryanne!" he said,--and, in pronouncing the well-loved name, he threw into it all the affection of which his voice was capable,--"maryanne!" "'miss brown' would be a deal properer, and also much more pleasing, if it's all the same to you, sir!" how often had he whispered "maryanne" into her ears, and the dear girl had smiled upon him to hear herself so called! but he could not remind her of this at the present moment. "i have your father's sanction," said he-- "my father is nothing to me,--not with reference to what young man i let myself be called 'maryanne' by. and going on as he is going on, i don't suppose that he'll long be much to me in any way." "oh, maryanne!" sobbed the unhappy parent. "that's all very well, sir, but it won't keep the kettle a-boiling!" "as long as i have a bit to eat of, maryanne, and a cup to drink of, you shall have the half." "and what am i to do when you won't have neither a bit nor a cup? that's what you're coming to, father. we can all see that. what's the use of all them lawyers?" "that's jones's doing," said robinson. "no; it isn't jones's doing. and of course jones must look after himself. i'm not partial to jones. everybody knows that. when sarah jane disgraced herself, and went off with him, i never said a word in her favour. it wasn't i who brought a viper into the house and warmed it in my bosom." it was at this moment that jones was behaving with the most barefaced effrontery, as well as the utmost cruelty, towards the old man, and maryanne's words cut her father to the very soul. "jones might have been anywhere for me," she continued; "but there he is downstairs, and sarah jane is with him. of course they are looking for their own." "and what is it you want, maryanne?" "well; i'll tell you what i want. my dear sainted mother's last wish was that--i should become mrs. brisket!" "and do you mean to say," said robinson--"do you mean to say that that is now your wish?" and he looked at her till the audacity even of her eyes sank beneath the earnestness of his own. but though for the moment he quelled her eye, nothing could quell her voice. "i mean to say," said she, speaking loudly, and with her arms akimbo, "that william brisket is a very respectable young man, with a trade,--that he's got a decent house for a young woman to live in, and a decent table for her to sit at. and he's always been brought up decent, having been a regular 'prentice to his uncle, and all that sort of thing. he's never been wandering about like a vagrant, getting his money nobody knows how. william brisket's as well known in aldersgate street as the post office. and moreover," she added, after a pause, speaking these last words in a somewhat milder breath--"and moreover, it was my sainted mother's wish!" "then go to him!" said robinson, rising suddenly, and stretching out his arm against her. "go to him, and perform your--sainted mother's wish! go to the--butcher! revel in his shambles, and grow fat and sleek in his slaughter-house! from this moment george robinson will fight the world alone. brisket, indeed! if it be accounted manliness to have killed hecatombs of oxen, let him be called manly!" "he would have pretty nigh killed you, young man, on one occasion, if you hadn't made yourself scarce." "by heavens!" exclaimed robinson, "if he'll come forth, i'll fight him to-morrow;--with cleavers, if he will!" "george, george, don't say that," exclaimed mr. brown. "'let dogs delight to bark and bite.'" "you needn't be afraid," said maryanne. "he doesn't mean fighting," and she pointed to robinson. "william would about eat him, you know, if they were to come together." "heaven forbid!" said mr. brown. "but what i want to know is this," continued the maiden; "how is it to be about that five hundred pounds which my mother left me?" "but, my dear, your mother had not five hundred pounds to leave." "nor did she make any will if she had," said robinson. "now don't put in your oar, for i won't have it," said the lady. "and you'd show a deal more correct feeling if you wasn't so much about the house just at present. my darling mamma,"--and then she put her handkerchief up to her eyes--"always told william that when he and i became one, there should be five hundred pounds down;--and of course he expects it. now, sir, you often talk about your love for your children." "i do love them; so i do. what else have i?" "now's the time to prove it. let me have that sum of five hundred pounds, and i will always take your part against the joneses. five hundred pounds isn't so much,--and surely i have a right to some share. and you may be sure of this; when we're settled, brisket is not the man to come back to you for more, as some would do." and then she gave another look at robinson. "i haven't got the money; have i, george?" said the father. "that question i cannot answer," replied robinson. "nor can i say how far it might be prudent in you to debar yourself from all further progress in commerce if you have got it. but this i can say; do not let any consideration for me prevent you from giving a dowry with your daughter to mr. brisket; if she loves him--" "oh, it's all bother about love," said she; "men and women must eat, and they must have something to give their children, when they come." "but if i haven't got it, my dear?" "that's nonsense, father. where has the money gone to? whatever you do, speak the truth. if you choose to say you won't--" "well, then, i won't," said he, roused suddenly to anger. "i never made brisket any promise!" "but mother did; she as is now gone, and far away; and it was her money,--so it was." "it wasn't her money;--it was mine!" said mr. brown. "and that's all the answer i'm to get? very well. then i shall know where to look for my rights. and as for that fellow there, i didn't think it of him, that he'd be so mean. i knew he was a coward always." "i am neither mean nor a coward," said robinson, jumping up, and speaking with a voice that was audible right across spavinhorse yard, and into the tap of the "man of mischief" public-house opposite. "as for meanness, if i had the money, i would pour it out into your lap, though i knew that it was to be converted into beef and mutton for the benefit of a hated rival. and as for cowardice, i repel the charge, and drive it back into the teeth of him who, doubtless, made it. i am no coward." "you ran away when he bid you!" "yes; because he is big and strong, and had i remained, he would have knocked me about, and made me ridiculous in the eyes of the spectators. but i am no coward. if you wish it, i am ready to fight him." "oh, dear, no. it can be nothing to me." "he will make me one mash of gore," said robinson, still holding out his hand. "but if you wish it, i care nothing for that. his brute strength will, of course, prevail; but i am indifferent as to that, if it would do you a pleasure." "pleasure to me! nothing of the kind, i can assure you." "maryanne, if i might have my wish, it should be this. let us both sit down, with our cigars lighted,--ay, and with tapers in our hands,--on an open barrel of gunpowder. then let him who will sit there longest receive this fair hand as his prize." and as he finished, he leaned over her, and took up her hand in his. "laws, robinson!" she said; but she did not on the moment withdraw her hand. "and if you were both blew up, what'd i do then?" "i won't hear of such an arrangement," said mr. brown. "it would be very wicked. if there's another word spoke about it, i'll go to the police at once!" on that occasion mr. brown was quite determined about the money; and, as we heard afterwards, mr. brisket expressed himself as equally resolute. "of course, i expect to see my way," said he; "i can't do anything of that sort without seeing my way." when that overture about the gunpowder was repeated to him, he is reported to have become very red. "either with gloves or without, or with the sticks, i'm ready for him," said he; "but as for sitting on a barrel of gunpowder, it's a thing as nobody wouldn't do unless they was in bedlam." when that interview was over, robinson walked forth by himself into the evening air, along giltspur street, down the old bailey, and so on by bridge street, to the middle of blackfriars bridge; and as he walked, he strove manfully to get the better of the passion which was devouring the strength of his blood, and the marrow of his bones. "if she be not fair for me," he sang to himself, "what care i how fair she be?" but he did care; he could not master that passion. she had been vile to him, unfeminine, untrue, coarsely abusive; she had shown herself to be mercenary, incapable of true love, a scold, fickle, and cruel. but yet he loved her. there was a gallant feeling at his heart that no misfortune could conquer him,--but one; that misfortune had fallen upon him,--and he was conquered. "why is it," he said as he looked down into the turbid stream--"why is it that bloodshed, physical strife, and brute power are dear to them all? any fool can have personal bravery; 'tis but a sign of folly to know no fear. grant that a man has no imagination, and he cannot fear; but when a man does fear, and yet is brave--" then for awhile he stopped himself. "would that i had gone at his throat like a dog!" he continued, still in his soliloquy. "would that i had! could i have torn out his tongue, and laid it as a trophy at her feet, then she would have loved me." after that he wandered slowly home, and went to bed. chapter viii. mr. brisket thinks he sees his way, and mr. robinson again walks on blackfriars bridge. for some half-hour on that night, as robinson had slowly walked backwards and forwards across the bridge, ideas of suicide had flitted across his mind. should he not put an end to all this,--to all this and so much else that harassed him and made life weary. "''tis a consummation devoutly to be wished,'" he said, as he looked down into the dark river. and then he repeated a good deal more, expressing his desire to sleep, but acknowledging that his dreams in that strange bed might be the rub. "and thus 'calamity must still live on,'" he said, as he went home to his lodgings. then came those arrangements as to the partnership and the house in bishopsgate street, which have already been narrated. during the weeks which produced these results, he frequently saw maryanne in smithfield, but never spoke to her, except on the ordinary topics of the day. in his demeanour he was courteous to her, but he never once addressed her except as miss brown, and always with a politeness which was as cold as it was studied. on one or two occasions he thought that he observed in her manner something that showed a wish for reconciliation; but still he said nothing to her. "she has treated me like a dog," he said to himself, "and yet i love her. if i tell her so, she will treat me worse than a dog." then he heard, also, that brisket had declared more than once that he could not see his way. "i could see mine," he said, "as though a star guided me, if she should but stretch forth her hand to me and ask me to forgive her." it was some week or two after the deed of partnership had been signed, and when the house at no. had been just taken, that miss twizzle came to robinson. he was, at the moment, engaged in composition for an illustrious house in the minories that shall be nameless; but he immediately gave his attention to miss twizzle, though at the moment he was combating the difficulties of a rhyme which it had been his duty to repeat nineteen times in the same poem. "i think that will do," said he, as he wrote it down. "and yet it's lame,--very lame: but no lady ever loses by going to the shop of--" and then miss twizzle entered. "i see you are engaged," said she, "and, perhaps, i had better call another time." "by no means, miss twizzle; pray be seated. how is everything going on at the hall of harmony?" "i haven't been there, mr. robinson, since that night as mr. brisket did behave so bad. i got such a turn that night, as i can't endure the sight of the room ever since. if you'll believe me, i can't." "it was not a pleasant occurrence," said robinson. "i felt it very keenly. a man's motives are so vilely misconstrued, miss twizzle. i have been accused of--of--cowardice." "not by me, mr. robinson. i did say you should have stuck up a bit; but i didn't mean anything like that." "well; it's over now. when are they to be married, miss twizzle?" "now, mr. robinson, don't you talk like that. you wouldn't take it all calm that way if you thought she was going to have him." "i mean to take it very calm for the future." "but i suppose you're not going to give her up. it wouldn't be like you, that wouldn't." "she has spurned me, miss twizzle; and after that--." "oh, spurn! that's all my eye. of course she has. there's a little of that always, you know,--just for the fun of the thing. the course of love shouldn't run too smooth. i wouldn't give a straw for a young man if he wouldn't let me spurn him sometimes." "but you wouldn't call him a--a--" "a what? a coward, is it? indeed but i would, or anything else that came uppermost. laws! what's the good of keeping company if you ain't to say just what comes uppermost at the moment. 'twas but the other day i called my young man a raskil." "it was in sport, no doubt." "i was that angry at the time i could have tore him limb from limb; i was, indeed. but he says, 'polly,' says he, 'if i'm a he-raskil, you're a she-raskil; so that needn't make any difference between us.' and no more it didn't. he gets his salary rose in january, and then we shall be married." "i wish you all the happiness that married life can bestow," said robinson. "that's very prettily said, and i wish the same to you. only you mustn't be so down like. there's maryanne; she says you haven't a word for her now." "she'll find as many words as she likes in aldersgate street, no doubt." "now, robinson, if you're going to go on like that, you are not the man i always took you for. you didn't suppose that a girl like maryanne isn't to have her bit of fun as long as it lasts. them as is as steady as old horses before marriage usually has their colt's fling after marriage. maryanne's principles is good, and that's everything;--ain't it?" "i impute nothing to miss brown, except that she is false, and mercenary, and cruel." "exactly; just a she-raskil, as tom called me. i was mercenary and all the rest of it. but, laws! what's that between friends? the long and short of it is this; is barkis willing? if barkis is willing, then a certain gentleman as we know in the meat trade may suit himself elsewhere. come; answer that. is barkis willing?" for a minute or two robinson sat silent, thinking of the indignities he had endured. that he loved the girl,--loved her warmly, with all his heart,--was only too true. yes; he loved her too well. had his affection been of a colder nature, he would have been able to stand off for awhile, and thus have taught the lady a lesson which might have been of service. but, in his present mood, the temptation was too great for him, and he could not resist it. "barkis is willing," said he. and thus, at the first overture, he forgave her all the injury she had done him. a man never should forgive a woman unless he has her absolutely in his power. when he does so, and thus wipes out all old scores, he merely enables her to begin again. but robinson had said the word, and miss twizzle was not the woman to allow him to go back from it. "that's well," said she. "and now i'll tell you what. tom and i are going to drink tea in smithfield, with old brown, you know. you'll come too; and then, when old brown goes to sleep, you and maryanne will make it up." of course she had her way; and robinson, though he repented himself of what he was doing before she was out of the room, promised to be there. and he was there. when he entered mr. brown's sitting-room he found maryanne and miss twizzle, but miss twizzle's future lord had not yet come. he did not wait for mr. brown to go to sleep, but at once declared the purpose of his visit. "shall i say 'maryanne?'" said he, putting out his hand; "or is it to be 'miss brown?'" "well, i'm sure," said she; "there's a question! if 'miss brown' will do for you, sir, it will do uncommon well for me." "call her 'maryanne,' and have done with it," said miss twizzle. "i hate all such nonsense, like poison." "george," said the old man, "take her, and may a father's blessing go along with her. we are partners in the haberdashery business, and now we shall be partners in everything." then he rose up, as though he were going to join their hands. "oh, father, i know a trick worth two of that!" said maryanne. "that's not the way we manage these things now-a-days, is it, polly?" "i don't know any better way," said polly, "when barkis is willing." "maryanne," said robinson, "let bygones be bygones." "with all my heart," said she. "all of them, if you like." "no, not quite all, maryanne. those moments in which i first declared what i felt for you can never be bygones for me. i have never faltered in my love; and now, if you choose to accept my hand in the presence of your father, there it is." "god bless you, my boy! god bless you!" said mr. brown. "come, maryanne," said miss twizzle, "he has spoke out now, quite manly; and you should give him an answer." "but he is so imperious, polly! if he only sees me speaking to another, in the way of civility--as, of course, i must,--he's up with his grand ways, and i'm put in such a trembling that i don't know how to open my mouth." of course, every one will know how the affair ended on that evening. the quarrels of lovers have ever been the renewal of love. miss brown did accept mr. robinson's vows; mr. brown did go to sleep; tom, whose salary was about to be raised to the matrimonial point, did arrive; and the evening was passed in bliss and harmony. then, again, for a week or two did george robinson walk upon roses. it could not now be thrown in his teeth that some other suitor was an established tradesman; for such also was his proud position. he was one of that firm whose name was already being discussed in the commercial world, and could feel that the path to glory was open beneath his feet. it was during these days that those original ideas as to the name and colour of the house, and as to its architectural ornamentation, came from his brain, and that he penned many of those advertisements which afterwards made his reputation so great. it was then that he so plainly declared his resolve to have his own way in his own department, and startled his partners by the firmness of his purpose. it need hardly be said that gratified love was the source from whence he drew his inspiration. "and now let us name the day," said robinson, as soon as that other day,--the opening day for magenta house,--had been settled. all nature would then be smiling. it would be the merry month of may; and robinson suggested that, after the toil of the first fortnight of the opening, a day's holiday for matrimonial purposes might well be accorded to him. "we'll go to the bowers of richmond, maryanne," said he. "god bless you, my children," said mr. brown. "and as for the holiday, jones shall see the shutters down, and i will see them up again." "what!" said maryanne. "this next first of june as ever is? i'll do no such thing." "why not, my own one?" "i never heard the like! where am i to get my things? and you will have no house taken or anything. if you think i'm going into lodgings like sarah jane, you're mistook. i don't marry unless i have things comfortable about me,--furniture, and all that. while you were in your tantrums, george, i once went to see william brisket's house." "---- william brisket!" said robinson. perhaps, he was wrong in using such a phrase, but it must be confessed that he was sorely tried. who but a harpy would have alluded to the comforts of a rival's domestic establishment at such a moment as that? maryanne brown was a harpy, and is a harpy to this day. "there, father," said she, "look at that! just listen to him! you wouldn't believe me before. what's a young woman to look for with a man as can go on like that?--cursing and swearing before one's face,--quite awful!" "he was aggravated, maryanne," said the old man. "yes, and he'll always be being aggravated. if he thinks as i ain't going to speak civil of them as has always spoke civil to me, he's in the wrong of it. william brisket never went about cursing at me in that way." "i didn't curse at you, maryanne." "if william brisket had anything to say of a rival, he said it out honest. 'maryanne,' said he to me once, 'if that young man comes after you any more, i'll polish his head off his shoulders.' now, that was speaking manly; and, if you could behave like that, you'd get yourself respected. but as for them rampagious billingsgate ways before a lady, i for one haven't been used to it, and i won't put up with it!" and so she bounced out of the room. "you shouldn't have swore at her, george," said mr. brown. "swear at her!" said robinson, putting his hand up to his head, as though he found it almost impossible to collect his scattered thoughts. "but it doesn't matter. the world may swear at her for me now; and the world will swear at her!" so saying, he left the house, went hastily down snow hill, and again walked moodily on the bridge of blackfriars. "'tis a consummation devoutly to be wished," said he: "--devoutly!--devoutly! and when they take me up,--up to her, would it be loving, or would it be loathing?--a nasty, cold, moist, unpleasant body!" he went on. "ah me! it would be loathing! he hadn't a father; he hadn't a mother; he hadn't a sister; he hadn't a brother;--but he had a dearer one still, and a nearer one yet, than all other.--'to be or not to be; that is the question.'--he must in ground unsanctified be lodged, till the last trumpet! ah, there's the rub! but for that, who would these fardels bear?" then he made up his mind that the fardels must still be borne, and again went home to his lodgings. this had occurred some little time before the opening of the house, and on the next morning george robinson was at his work as hard,--ay, harder--than ever. he had pledged himself to the firm, and was aware that it would ill become him to allow private sorrows to interfere with public duties. on that morrow he was more enterprising than ever, and it was then that he originated the idea of the four men in armour, and of fame with her classical horn and gilded car. "she'll come round again, george," said mr. brown, "and then take her at the hop." "she'll hop no more for me," said george robinson, sternly. but on this matter he was weak as water, and this woman was able to turn him round her little finger. on the fourteenth of may, the day previous to the opening of the house, robinson was seated upstairs alone, still at work on some of his large posters. there was no sound to be heard but the hammers of the workmen below; and the smell of the magenta paint, as it dried, was strong in his nostrils. it was then that one of the workmen came up to him, saying that there was a gentleman below who wished to see him. at this period robinson was anxious to be called on by commercial gentlemen, and at once sent down civil word, begging that the gentleman would walk up. with heavy step the gentleman did walk up, and william brisket was shown into the room. "sir," said george robinson as soon as he saw him, "i did not expect this honour from you." and then he bethought himself of his desire to tear out the monster's tongue, and began to consider whether he might do it now. "i don't know much about honour," said brisket; "but it seems to me an understandin's wanted 'twixt you and i." "there can be none such," said robinson. "oh, but there must." "it is not within the compass of things. you, sir, cannot understand me;--your intellectual vision is too limited. and i,--i will not understand you." "won't you, by jingo! then your vision shall be limited, as far as two uncommon black eyes can limit it. but come, robinson, if you don't want to quarrel, i don't." "as for quarrelling," said robinson, "it is the work of children. come, brisket, will you jump with me into yonder river? the first that reaches the further side, let him have her!" and he pointed up bishopsgate street towards the thames. "perhaps you can swim?" said brisket. "not a stroke!" said robinson. "then what a jolly pair of fools we should be!" "ah-h-h-h! that's the way to try a man's metal!" "if you talk to me about metal, young man, i'll drop into you. you've been a-sending all manner of messages to me about a barrel of gunpowder and that sort of thing, and it's my mind that you're a little out of your own. now i ain't going to have anything to do with gunpowder, nor yet with the river. it's a nasty place is the river; and when i want a wash i shan't go there." "'dreadfully staring through muddy impurity!'" said robinson. "impurity enough," continued the other; "and i won't have anything to do with it. now, i'll tell you what. will you give me your word, as a man, never to have nothing more to say to maryanne brown?" "never again to speak to her?" "not, except in the way of respect, when she's mrs. brisket." "never again to clasp her hand in mine?" "not by no means. and if you want me to remain quiet, you'd a deal better stow that kind of thing. i'll tell you what it is--i'm beginning to see my way with old brown." "et tu, brute?" said robinson, clasping his hands together. "i'm beginning to see my way with old brown," continued brisket; "and, to tell you the truth at once, i don't mean to be interfered with." "has--my partner--promised--her hand to you?" "yes, he has; and five hundred pounds with it." "and she--?" "oh, she's all right. there isn't any doubt about she. i've just come from she, as you call her. now that i see my way, she and i is to be one." "and where's the money to come from, mr. brisket?" "the father 'll stand the money--in course." "i don't know where he'll get it, then; certainly not out of the capital of our business, mr. brisket. and since you are so keen about seeing your way, mr. brisket, i advise you to be quite sure that you do see it." "that's my business, young man; i've never been bit yet, and i don't know as i'm going to begin now. i never moves till i see my way. they as does is sure to tumble." "well; see your way," said robinson. "see it as far as your natural lights will enable you to look. it's nothing to me." "ah, but i must hear you say that you renounce her." "renounce her, false harpy! ay, with all my heart." "but i won't have her called out of her name." "she is false." "hold your tongue, or i'll drop into you. they're all more or less false, no doubt; but i won't have you say so of her. and since you're so ready about the renouncing, suppose you put it on paper--'i renounce my right to the hand and heart of maryanne brown.' you've got pen and ink there;--just put it down." "it shall not need," said robinson. "oh, but it does need. it'll put an end to a world of trouble and make her see that the thing is all settled. it can't be any sorrow to you, because you say she's a false harpy." "nevertheless, i love her." "so do i love her; and as i'm beginning to see my way, why, of course, i mean to have her. we can't both marry her; can we?" "no; not both," said robinson. "certainly not both." "then you just write as i bid you," said brisket. "bid me, sir!" "well,--ask you; if that will make it easier." "and what if i don't?" "why, i shall drop into you. that's all about it. there's the pen, ink, and paper; you'd better do it." not at first did robinson write those fatal words by which he gave up all his right to her he loved; but before that interview was ended the words were written. "what matters it?" he said, at last, just as brisket had actually risen from his seat to put his vile threat into execution. "has not she renounced me?" "yes," said brisket, "she has done that certainly." "had she been true to me," continued robinson, "to do her a pleasure i would have stood up before you till you had beaten me into the likeness of one of your own carcases." "that's what i should have done, too." "but now;--why should i suffer now?" "no, indeed; why should you?" "i would thrash you if i could, for the pure pleasure." "no doubt; no doubt." "but it stands to reason that i can't. god, when he gave me power of mind, gave you power of body." "and a little common sense along with it, my friend. i'm generally able to see my way, big as i look. come; what's the good of arguing. you're quick at writing, i know, and there's the paper." then george robinson did write. the words were as follows;--"i renounce the hand and heart of maryanne brown. i renounce them for ever.--george robinson." on the night of that day, while the hammers were still ringing by gaslight in the unfinished shop; while brown and jones were still busy with the goods, and mrs. jones was measuring out to the shop-girls yards of magenta ribbon, short by an inch, robinson again walked down to the bridge. "the bleak wind of march makes me tremble and shiver," said he to himself;--"but, 'not the dark arch or the black flowing river.'" "come, young man, move on," said a policeman to him. and he did move on. "but for that man i should have done it then," he whispered, in his solitude, as he went to bed. chapter ix. showing how mr. robinson was employed on the opening day. "et tu, brute?" were the words with which mr. brown was greeted at six o'clock in the morning on that eventful day, when, at early dawn, he met his young partner at magenta house. he had never studied the history of cæsar's death, but he understood the reproach as well as any roman ever did. "it was your own doing, george," he said. "when she was swore at in that way, and when you went away and left her--." "it was she went away and left me." "'father,' said she when she came back, 'i shall put myself under the protection of mr. william brisket.' what was i to do then? and when he came himself, ten minutes afterwards, what was i to say to him? a father is a father, george; and one's children is one's children." "and they are to be married?" "not quite at once, george." "no. the mercenary slaughterer will reject that fair hand at last, unless it comes to him weighted with a money-bag. from whence are to come those five hundred pounds without which william brisket will not allow your daughter to warm herself at his hearthstone?" "as jones has got the partnership, george, maryanne's husband should have something." "ah, yes! it is i, then,--i, as one of the partners of this house, who am to bestow a dowry upon her who has injured me, and make happy the avarice of my rival! since the mimic stage first represented the actions of humanity, no such fate as that has ever been exhibited as the lot of man. be it so. bring hither the cheque-book. that hand that was base enough to renounce her shall, with the same pen, write the order for the money." "no, george, no," said mr. brown. "i never meant to do that. let him have it--out of the profits." "ha!" "i said in a month,--if things went well. of course, i meant,--well enough." "but they'll lead you such a life as never man passed yet. maryanne, you know, can be bitter; very bitter." "i must bear it, george. i've been a-bearing a long while, and i'm partly used to it. but, george, it isn't a pleasure to me. it isn't a pleasure to a poor old father to be nagged at by his daughters from his very breakfast down to his very supper. and they comes to me sometimes in bed, nagging at me worse than ever." "my heart has often bled for you, mr. brown." "i know it has, george; and that's why i've loved you and trusted you. and now you won't quarrel with me, will you, though i have a little thrown you over like?" what was robinson to say? of course he forgave him. it was in his nature to forgive; and he would even have forgiven maryanne at that moment, had she come to him and asked him. but she was asleep in her bed, dreaming, perchance, of that big philistine whom she had chosen as her future lord. a young david, however, might even yet arise, who should smite that huge giant with a stone between the eyes. then did mr. brown communicate to his partner those arrangements as to grouping which his younger daughter had suggested for the opening of the house. when robinson first heard that maryanne intended to be there, he declared his intention of standing by her side, though he would not deign even to look her in the face. "she shall see that she has no power over me, to make me quail," he said. and then he was told that brisket also would be there; maryanne had begged the favour of him, and he had unwillingly consented. "it is hard to bear," said robinson, "very hard. but it shall be borne. i do not remember ever to have heard of the like." "he won't come often, george, you may be sure." "that i should have planned these glories for him! well, well; be it so. what is the pageantry to me? it has been merely done to catch the butterflies, and of these he is surely the largest. i will sit alone above, and work there with my brain for the service of the firm, while you below are satisfying the eyes of the crowd." and so it had been, as was told in that chapter which was devoted to the opening day of the house. robinson had sat alone in the very room in which he had encountered brisket, and had barely left his seat for one moment when the first rush of the public into the shop had made his heart leap within him. there the braying of the horn in the street, and the clatter of the armed horsemen on the pavement, and the jokes of the young boys, and the angry threatenings of the policemen, reached his ears. "it is well," said he; "the ball has been set a-rolling, and the work that has been well begun is already half completed. when once the steps of the unthinking crowd have habituated themselves to move hither-ward, they will continue to come with the constancy of the tide, which ever rolls itself on the same strand." and then he tasked himself to think how that tide should be made always to flow,--never to ebb. "they must be brought here," said he, "ever by new allurements. when once they come, it is only in accordance with the laws of human nature that they should leave their money behind them." upon that, he prepared the words for another card, in which he begged his friends, the public of the city, to come to magenta house, as friends should come. they were invited to see, and not to buy. the firm did not care that purchases should be made thus early in their career. their great desire was that the arrangements of the establishment should be witnessed before any considerable portion of the immense stock had been moved for the purpose of retail sale. and then the west end public were especially requested to inspect the furs which were being collected for the anticipated sale of the next winter. it was as he wrote these words that he heard that demand for the african monkey muff, and heard also mr. jones's discreet answer. "yes," said he to himself; "before we have done, ships shall come to us from all coasts; real ships. from tyre and sidon, they shall come; from ophir and tarshish, from the east and from the west, and from the balmy southern islands. how sweet will it be to be named among the merchant princes of this great commercial nation!" but he felt that brown and jones would never be merchant princes, and he already looked forward to the day when he would be able to emancipate himself from such thraldom. it has been already said that a considerable amount of business was done over the counter on the first day, but that the sum of money taken was not as great as had been hoped. that this was caused by mr. brown's injudicious mode of going to work, there could be no doubt. he had filled the shelves of the shop with cheap articles for which he had paid, and had hesitated in giving orders for heavy amounts to the wholesale houses. such orders had of course been given, and in some cases had been given in vain; but quite enough of them had been honoured to show what might have been done, had there been no hesitation. "as a man of capital, i must object," he had said to mr. robinson, only a week before the house was opened. "i wish i could make you understand that you have no capital." "i would i could divest you of the idea and the money too," said robinson. but it was all of no use. a domestic fowl that has passed all its days at a barn-door can never soar on the eagle's wing. now mr. brown was the domestic fowl, while the eagle's pinion belonged to his youngest partner. by whom in that firm the kite was personified, shall not here be stated. brisket on that day soon left the shop; but as maryanne brown remained there, robinson did not descend among the throng. there was no private door to the house, and therefore he was forced to walk out between the counters when he went to his dinner. on that occasion, he passed close by miss brown, and met that young lady's eye without quailing. she looked full upon him: and then, turning her face round to her sister, tittered with an air of scorn. "i think he's been very badly used," said sarah jane. "and who has he got to blame but his own want of spirit?" said the other. this was spoken in the open shop, and many of the young men and women heard it. robinson, however, merely walked on, raising his hat, and saluting the daughters of the senior partner. but it must be acknowledged that such remarks as that greatly aggravated the misery of his position. it was on the evening of that day, when he was about to leave the establishment for the night, that he heard a gentle creeping step on the stairs, and presently mrs. jones presented herself in the room in which he was sitting. now if there was any human fellow-creature on the face of this earth whom george robinson had brought himself to hate, that human fellow-creature was sarah jane jones. jones himself he despised, but his feeling towards mrs. jones was stronger than contempt. to him it was odious that she should be present in the house at all, and he had obtained from her father a direct promise that she should not be allowed to come behind the counters after this their opening day. "george," she said, coming up to him, "i have come upstairs because i wish to have a few words with you private." "will you take a chair?" said he, placing one for her. one is bound to be courteous to a lady, even though that lady be a harpy. "george," she again began,--she had never called him "george" before, and he felt himself sorely tempted to tell her that his name was mr. robinson. "george, i've brought myself to look upon you quite as a brother-in-law, you know." "have you?" said he. "then you have done me an honour that does not belong to me,--and never will." "now don't say that, george. if you'll only bring yourself to show a little more spirit to maryanne, all will be right yet." what was she that she should talk to him about spirit? in these days there was no subject which was more painful to him than that of personal courage. he was well aware that he was no coward. he felt within himself an impulse that would have carried him through any danger of which the result would not have been ridiculous. he could have led a forlorn hope, or rescued female weakness from the fangs of devouring flames. but he had declined,--he acknowledged to himself that he had declined,--to be mauled by the hands of an angry butcher, who was twice his size. "one has to keep one's own path in the world," he had said to himself; "but, nevertheless, one avoids a chimney-sweeper. should i have gained anything had i allowed that huge monster to hammer at me?" so he had argued. but, though he had thus argued, he had been angry with himself, and now he could not bear to be told that he had lacked spirit. "that is my affair," he replied to her. "but those about me will find that i do not lack spirit when i find fitting occasion to use it." "no; i'm sure they won't. and now's the time, george. you're not going to let that fellow brisket run off with maryanne from before your eyes." "he's at liberty to run anywhere for me." "now, look here, george. i know you're fond of her." "no. i was once; but i've torn her from my heart." "that's nonsense, george. the fact is, the more she gives herself airs and makes herself scarce and stiff to you, the more precious you think her." ignorant as the woman was of almost everything, she did know something of human nature. "i shall never trouble myself about her again," said he. "oh, yes, you will; and make her mrs. robinson before you've done. now, look here, george; that fellow brisket won't have her, unless he gets the money." "it's nothing to me," said robinson. "and where's the money to come from, if not out of the house? now, you and jones has your rights as partners, and i do hope you and he won't let the old man make off with the capital of the firm in that way. if he gives brisket five hundred pounds,--and there isn't much more left--" "i'll tell you what, mrs. jones;--he may give brisket five thousand pounds as far as i am concerned. whatever mr. brown may do in that way, i shan't interfere to prevent him." "you shan't!" "it's his own money, and, as far as george robinson is concerned--" "his own money, and he in partnership with jones! not a penny of it is his own, and so i'll make them understand. as for you, you are the softest--" "never mind me, mrs. jones." "no; i never will mind you again. well, to be sure! and you'd stand by and see the money given away in that way to enable the man you hate to take away the girl you love! well, i never--. they did say you was faint-hearted, but i never thought to see the like of that in a thing that called itself a man." and so saying, she took herself off. --"it cannot be, but i am pigeon-livered, and lack gall, to make oppression bitter," said robinson, rising from his seat, and slapping his forehead with his hand; and then he stalked backwards and forwards through the small room, driven almost to madness by the misery of his position. "i am not splenetic and rash," he said; "yet have i something in me dangerous. i loved ophelia. forty thousand briskets could not, with all their quantities of love, make up my sum." at this time mr. brown still lived at the house in smithfield. it was intended that he should move to bishopsgate street as soon as the upper rooms could be made ready for him, but the works had hitherto been confined to the shop. on this, the night of the opening day, he intended to give a little supper to his partners; and robinson, having promised to join it, felt himself bound to keep his word. "brisket will not be there?" he asked, as he walked across finsbury square with the old man. "certainly not," said mr. brown; "i never thought of asking him." and yet, when they reached the house, brisket was already seated by the fire, superintending the toasting of the cheese, as though he were one of the family. "it's not my doing, george; indeed, it's not," whispered mr. brown, as they entered the sitting-room of the family. [illustration: brisket makes himself useful.] that supper-party was terrible to robinson, but he bore it all without flinching. jones and his wife were there, and so also, of course, was maryanne. her he had seen at the moment of his entry, sitting by with well-pleased face, while her huge lover put butter and ale into the frying-pan. "why, sarah jane," she said, "i declare he's quite a man cook. how useful he would be about a house!" "oh, uncommon," said sarah jane. "and you mean to try before long, don't you, mr. brisket?" "you must ask maryanne about that," said he, raising his great red face from the fire, and putting on the airs and graces of a thriving lover. "don't ask me anything," said maryanne, "for i won't answer anything. it's nothing to me what he means to try." "oh, ain't it, though," said brisket. and then they all sat down to supper. it may be imagined with what ease robinson listened to conversation such as this, and with what appetite he took his seat at that table. "mr. robinson, may i give you a little of this cheese?" said maryanne. what a story such a question told of the heartlessness, audacity, and iron nerves of her who asked it! what power, and at the same time what cruelty, there must have been within that laced bodice, when she could bring herself to make such an offer! "by all means," said robinson, with equal courage. the morsel was then put upon his plate, and he swallowed it. "i would he had poisoned it," said he to himself. "with what delight would i then partake of the dish, so that he and she partook of it with me!" the misery of that supper-party will never be forgotten. had brisket been adonis himself, he could not have been treated with softer courtesies by those two harpies; and yet, not an hour ago, sarah jane jones had been endeavouring to raise a conspiracy against his hopes. what an ass will a man allow himself to become under such circumstances! there sat the big butcher, smirking and smiling, ever and again dipping his unlovely lips into a steaming beaker of brandy-and-water, regarding himself as triumphant in the courts of venus. but that false woman who sat at his side would have sold him piecemeal for money, as he would have sold the carcase of a sheep. "you do not drink, george," said mr. brown. "it does not need," said robinson; and then he took his hat and went his way. on that night he swore to himself that he would abandon her for ever, and devote himself to commerce and the muses. it was then that he composed the opening lines of a poem which may yet make his name famous wherever the english language is spoken:-- the golden-eyed son of the morning rushed down the wind like a trumpet, his azure locks adorning with emeralds fresh from the ocean. chapter x. showing how the firm invented a new shirt. it has already been said that those four men in armour, on the production of whom robinson had especially prided himself, were dispensed with after the first fortnight. this, no doubt, was brought about through the parsimony of mr. brown, but in doing so he was aided by a fortuitous circumstance. one of the horses trampled on a child near the bank, and then the police and press interfered. at first the partners were very unhappy about the child, for it was reported to them that the poor little fellow would die. mr. brown went to see it, and ascertained that the mother knew how to make the most of the occurrence;--and so, after a day or two, did the firm. the jupiter daily newspaper took the matter up, and lashed out vigorously at what it was pleased to call the wickedness as well as absurdity of such a system of advertising; but as the little boy was not killed, nor indeed seriously hurt, the firm was able to make capital out of the jupiter, by sending a daily bulletin from magenta house as to the state of the child's health. for a week the newspapers inserted these, and allowed the firm to explain that they supplied nourishing food, and paid the doctor's bill; but at the end of the week the editor declined any further correspondence. mr. brown then discontinued his visits; but the child's fortune had been made by gifts from a generous public, and the whole thing had acted as an excellent unpaid advertisement. now, it is well understood by all trades that any unpaid advertisement is worth twenty that have cost money. in this way the men in armour were put down, but they will be long remembered by the world of bishopsgate street. that they cost money is certain. "whatever we do," said mr. brown, "don't let's have any more horses. you see, george, they're always a-eating!" he could not understand that it was nothing, though the horses had eaten gilded oats, so long as there were golden returns. the men in armour, however, were put down, as also was the car of fame. one horse only was left in the service of the firm, and this was an ancient creature that had for many years belonged to the butter establishment in smithfield. by this animal a light but large wooden frame was dragged about, painted magenta on its four sides, and bearing on its various fronts different notices as to the business of the house. a boy stood uncomfortably in the centre, driving the slow brute by means of reins which were inserted through the apertures of two of the letters; through another letter above there was a third hole for his eyes, and, shut up in this prison, he was enjoined to keep moving throughout the day. this he did at the slowest possible pace, and thus he earned five shillings a week. the arrangement was one made entirely by mr. brown, who himself struck the bargain with the boy's father. mr. robinson was much ashamed of this affair, declaring that it would be better to abstain altogether from advertising in that line than to do it in so ignoble a manner; but mr. brown would not give way, and the magenta box was dragged about the streets till it was altogether shattered and in pieces. stockings was the article in which, above all others, mr. brown was desirous of placing his confidence. "george," said he, "all the world wears stockings; but those who require african monkey muffs are in comparison few in number. i know legg and loosefit of the poultry, and i'll purchase a stock." he went to legg and loosefit and did purchase a stock, absolutely laying out a hundred pounds of ready money for hosiery, and getting as much more on credit. stockings is an article on which considerable genius might be displayed by any house intending to do stockings, and nothing else; but taken up in this small way by such a firm as that of , bishopsgate street, it was simply embarrassing. "now you can say something true in your advertisements," said mr. brown, with an air of triumph, when the invoice of the goods arrived. "true!" said robinson. he would not, however, sneer at his partner, so he retreated to his own room, and went to work. "stockings!" said he to himself. "there is no room for ambition in it! but the word 'hose' does not sound amiss." and then he prepared that small book, with silk magenta covers and silvery leaves, which he called _the new miracle!_ the whole world wants stockings, [he began, not disdaining to take his very words from mr. brown]--and brown, jones, and robinson are prepared to supply the whole world with the stockings which they want. the following is a list of some of the goods which are at present being removed from the river to the premises at magenta house, in bishopsgate street. b., j., and r. affix the usual trade price of the article, and the price at which they are able to offer them to the public. one hundred and twenty baskets of ladies' spanish hose,--usual price, _s._ _d._; sold by b., j., and r. at ¾_d._ "baskets!" said mr. brown, when he read the little book. "it's all right," said robinson. "i have been at the trouble to learn the trade language." four hundred dozen white cotton hose,--usual price, _s._ ½_d._; sold by b., j., and r. at ¼_d._ eight stack of china and pearl silk hose,--usual price, _s._; sold by b., j., and r. for _s._ ¾_d._ fifteen hundred dozen of balbriggan,--usual price, _s._ _d._; sold by b., j., and r. for ½_d._ it may not, perhaps, be necessary to continue the whole list here; but as it was read aloud to mr. brown, he sat aghast with astonishment. "george!" said he, at last, "i don't like it. it makes me quite afeard. it does indeed." "and why do you not like it?" said robinson, quietly laying down the manuscript, and putting his hand upon it. "does it want vigour?" "no; it does not want vigour." "does it fail to be attractive? is it commonplace?" "it is not that i mean," said mr. brown. "but--" "is it not simple? the articles are merely named, with their prices." "but, george, we haven't got 'em. we couldn't hold such a quantity. and if we had them, we should be ruined to sell them at such prices as that. i did want to do a genuine trade in stockings." "and so you shall, sir. but how will you begin unless you attract your customers?" "you have put your prices altogether too low," said jones. "it stands to reason you can't sell them for the money. you shouldn't have put the prices at all;--it hampers one dreadful. you don't know what it is to stand down there among 'em all, and tell 'em that the cheap things haven't come." "say that they've all been sold," said robinson. "it's just the same," argued jones. "i declare last saturday night i didn't think my life was safe in the crowd." "and who brought that crowd to the house?" demanded robinson. "who has filled the shop below with such a throng of anxious purchasers?" "but, george," said mr. brown, "i should like to have one of these bills true, if only that one might show it as a sample when the people talk to one." "true!" said robinson, again. "you wish that it should be true! in the first place, did you ever see an advertisement that contained the truth? if it were as true as heaven, would any one believe it? was it ever supposed that any man believed an advertisement? sit down and write the truth, and see what it will be! the statement will show itself of such a nature that you will not dare to publish it. there is the paper, and there the pen. take them, and see what you can make of it." "i do think that somebody should be made to believe it," said jones. "you do!" and robinson, as he spoke, turned angrily at the other. "did you ever believe an advertisement?" jones, in self-defence, protested that he never had. "and why should others be more simple than you? no man,--no woman believes them. they are not lies; for it is not intended that they should obtain credit. i should despise the man who attempted to base his advertisements on a system of facts, as i would the builder who lays his foundation upon the sand. the groundwork of advertising is romance. it is poetry in its very essence. is hamlet true?" "i really do not know," said mr. brown. "there is no man, to my thinking, so false," continued robinson, "as he who in trade professes to be true. he deceives, or endeavours to do so. i do not. no one will believe that we have fifteen hundred dozen of balbriggan." "nobody will," said mr. brown. "but yet that statement will have its effect. it will produce custom, and bring grist to our mill without any dishonesty on our part. advertisements are profitable, not because they are believed, but because they are attractive. once understand that, and you will cease to ask for truth." then he turned himself again to his work and finished his task without further interruption. "you shall sell your stockings, mr. brown," he said to the senior member of the firm, about three days after that. "indeed, i hope so." "look here, sir!" and then he took mr. brown to the window. there stood eight stalwart porters, divided into two parties of four each, and on their shoulders they bore erect, supported on painted frames, an enormous pair of gilded, embroidered, brocaded, begartered wooden stockings. on the massive calves of these was set forth a statement of the usual kind, declaring that "brown, jones, and robinson, of , bishopsgate street, had just received , pairs of best french silk ladies' hose direct from lyons." "and now look at the men's legs," said robinson. mr. brown did look, and perceived that they were dressed in magenta-coloured knee-breeches, with magenta-coloured stockings. they were gorgeous in their attire, and at this moment they were starting from the door in different directions. "perhaps you will tell me that that is not true?" "i will say nothing about it for the future," said mr. brown. "it is not true," continued robinson; "but it is a work of fiction, in which i take leave to think that elegance and originality are combined." "we ought to do something special in shirts," said jones, a few days after this. "we could get a few dozen from hodges, in king street, and call them eureka." "couldn't we have a shirt of our own?" said mr. robinson. "couldn't you invent a shirt, mr. jones?" jones, as robinson looked him full in the face, ran his fingers through his scented hair, and said that he would consult his wife. before the day was over, however, the following notice was already in type:-- mankind in a state of bliss! brown, jones, and robinson have sincere pleasure in presenting to the fashionable world their new katakairion shirt, in which they have thoroughly overcome the difficulties, hitherto found to be insurmountable, of adjusting the bodies of the nobility and gentry to an article which shall be at the same time elegant, comfortable, lasting, and cheap. b., j., and r.'s katakairion shirt, and their katakairion shirt alone, is acknowledged to unite these qualities. six shirts for _s._ _d._ the katakairion shirt is specially recommended to officers going to india and elsewhere, while it is at the same time eminently adapted for the home consumption. "i think i would have considered it a little more, before i committed myself," said jones. "ah, yes; you would have consulted your wife; as i have not got one, i must depend on my own wits." "and are not likely to have one either," said jones. "young men, young men," said mr. brown, raising his hands impressively, "if as christians you cannot agree, at any rate you are bound to do so as partners. what is it that the psalmist says, 'let dogs delight, to bark and bite--.'" the notice as to the katakairion shirt was printed on that day, as originally drawn out by robinson, and very widely circulated on the two or three following mornings. a brisk demand ensued, and it was found that hodges, the wholesale manufacturer, of king street, was able to supply the firm with an article which, when sold at _s._ _d._, left a comfortable profit. "i told you that we ought to do something special in shirts," said jones, as though the whole merit of the transaction were his own. gloves was another article to which considerable attention was given;-- brown, jones, and robinson have made special arrangements with the glove manufacturers of worcestershire, and are now enabled to offer to the public english-sewn worcester gloves, made of french kid, at a price altogether out of the reach of any other house in the trade. b., j., and r. boldly defy competition. when that notice was put up in front of the house, none of the firm expected that any one would believe in their arrangement with the worcestershire glove-makers. they had no such hope, and no such wish. what gloves they sold, they got from the wholesale houses in st. paul's churchyard, quite indifferent as to the county in which they were sewn, or the kingdom from which they came. nevertheless, the plan answered, and a trade in gloves was created. but perhaps the pretty little dialogues which were circulated about the town, did more than anything else to make the house generally known to mothers and their families. "mamma, mamma, i have seen such a beautiful sight!" one of them began. "my dearest daughter, what was it?" "i was walking home through the city, with my kind cousin augustus, and he took me to that wonderfully handsome and extraordinarily large new shop, just opened by those enterprising men, brown, jones, and robinson, at no. , bishopsgate street. they call it 'nine times nine, or magenta house.'" "my dearest daughter, you may well call it wonderful. it is the wonder of the age. brown, jones, and robinson sell everything; but not only that,--they sell everything good; and not only that--they sell everything cheap. whenever your wants induce you to make purchases, you may always be sure of receiving full value for your money at the house of brown, jones, and robinson." in this way, by efforts such as these, which were never allowed to flag for a single hour,--by a continued series of original composition which, as regards variety and striking incidents, was, perhaps, never surpassed,--a great and stirring trade was established within six months of the opening day. by this time mr. brown had learned to be silent on the subject of advertising, and had been brought to confess, more than once, that the subject was beyond his comprehension. "i am an old man, george," he said once, "and all this seems to be new." "if it be not new, it is nothing," answered robinson. "i don't understand it," continued the old man; "i don't pretend to understand it; i only hope that it's right." the conduct which jones was disposed to pursue gave much more trouble. he was willing enough to allow robinson to have his own way, and to advertise in any shape or manner, but he was desirous of himself doing the same thing. it need hardly be pointed out here that this was a branch of trade for which he was peculiarly unsuited, and that his productions would be stale, inadequate, and unattractive. nevertheless, he persevered, and it was only by direct interference at the printer's, that the publication of documents was prevented which would have been fatal to the interests of the firm. "do i meddle with you in the shop?" robinson would say to him. "you haven't the personal advantages which are required for meeting the public," jones would answer. "nor have you the mental advantages without which original composition is impossible." in spite of all these difficulties a considerable trade was established within six months, and the shop was usually crowded. as a drawback to this, the bills at the printer's and at the stationer's had become very heavy, and robinson was afraid to disclose their amount to his senior partner. but nevertheless he persevered. "faint heart never won fair lady," he repeated to himself, over and over again,--the fair lady for whom his heart sighed being at this time commercial success. _vestigia nulla retrorsum._ that should be the motto of the house. he failed, however, altogether in making it intelligible to mr. brown. chapter xi. johnson of manchester. it was about eight months after the business had been opened that a circumstance took place which gave to the firm a reputation which for some few days was absolutely metropolitan. the affair was at first fortuitous, but advantage was very promptly taken of all that occurred; no chance was allowed to pass by unimproved; and there was, perhaps, as much genuine talent displayed in the matter as though the whole had been designed from the beginning. the transaction was the more important as it once more brought mr. robinson and maryanne brown together, and very nearly effected a union between them. it was not, however, written in the book that such a marriage should ever be celebrated, and the renewal of love which for a time gave such pleasure to the young lady's father, had no other effect than that of making them in their subsequent quarrels more bitter than ever to each other. it was about midwinter when the circumstances now about to be narrated took place. mr. brown had gone down to the neighbourhood of manchester for the purpose of making certain bonâ fide purchases of coloured prints, and had there come to terms with a dealer. at this time there was a strike among the factories, and the goods became somewhat more scarce in the market, and, therefore, a trifle dearer than was ordinarily the case. from this arose the fact that the agreement made with mr. brown was not kept by the lancashire house, and that the firm in bishopsgate was really subjected to a certain amount of commercial ill-treatment. "it is a cruel shame," said mr. brown--"a very cruel shame; when a party in trade has undertaken a transaction with another party, no consideration should hinder that party from being as good as his word. a tradesman's word should be his bond." this purchase down among the factories had been his own special work, and he had been proud of it. he was, moreover, a man who could ill tolerate any ill-usage from others. "can't we do anything to 'em, george? can't we make 'em bankrupts?" "if we could, what good would that do us?" said robinson. "we must put up with it." "i'd bring an action against them," said jones. "and spend thirty or forty pounds with the lawyers," said robinson. "no; we will not be such fools as that. but we might advertise the injury." "advertise the injury," said mr. brown, with his eyes wide open. by this time he had begun to understand that the depth of his partner's finesse was not to be fathomed by his own unaided intelligence. "and spend as much money in that as with the lawyers," said jones. "probably more," said robinson, very calmly. "we promised the public in our last week's circular that we should have these goods." "of course we did," said mr. brown; "and now the public will be deceived!" and he lifted up his hands in horror at the thought. "we'll advertise it," said robinson again; and then for some short space he sat with his head resting on his hands. "yes, we'll advertise it. leave me for awhile, that i may compose the notices." mr. brown, after gazing at him for a moment with a countenance on which wonder and admiration were strongly written, touched his other partner on the arm, and led him from the room. the following day was saturday, which at magenta house was always the busiest day of the week. at about four o'clock in the afternoon the shop would become thronged, and from that hour up to ten at night nearly as much money was taken as during all the week besides. on that saturday at about noon the following words were to be read at each of the large sheets of glass in the front of the house. they were printed, of course, on magenta paper, and the corners and margins were tastefully decorated:-- brown, jones, and robinson, having been greatly deceived by johnson of manchester, are not able to submit to the public the , new specimens of english prints, as they had engaged to do, on this day. but they beg to assure their customers and the public in general that they will shortly do so, however tremendous may be the sacrifice. "but it was staleybridge," said mr. brown, "and the man's name was pawkins." "and you would have me put up 'pawkins of staleybridge,' and thus render the firm liable to an indictment for libel? are not pawkins and johnson all the same to the public?" "but there is sure to be some johnson at manchester." "there are probably ten, and therefore no man can say that he is meant. i ascertained that there were three before i ventured on the name." on that afternoon some trifling sensation was created in bishopsgate street, and a few loungers were always on the pavement reading the notice. robinson went out from time to time, and heard men as they passed talking of johnson of manchester. "it will do," said he. "you will see that it will do. by seven o'clock on next saturday evening i will have the shop so crowded that women who are in shall be unable to get out again." that notice remained up on saturday evening, and till twelve on monday, at which hour it was replaced by the following:-- johnson of manchester has proved himself utterly unable to meet his engagement. the public of the metropolis, however, may feel quite confident that brown, jones, and robinson will not allow any provincial manufacturer to practise such dishonesty on the city with impunity. the concourse of persons outside then became much greater, and an audible hum of voices not unfrequently reached the ears of those within. during this trying week mr. jones, it must be acknowledged, did not play his part badly. it had come home to him in some manner that this peculiar period was of vital importance to the house, and on each day he came down to business dressed in his very best. it was pleasant to see him as he stood at the door, shining with bear's grease, loaded with gilt chains, glittering with rings, with the lappets of his coat thrown back so as to show his frilled shirt and satin waistcoat. there he stood, rubbing his hands and looking out upon the people as though he scorned to notice them. as regards intellect, mind, apprehension, there was nothing to be found in the personal appearance of jones, but he certainly possessed an amount of animal good looks which had its weight with weak-minded females. the second notice was considered sufficient to attract notice on monday and tuesday. on the latter day it became manifest that the conduct of johnson of manchester had grown to be matter of public interest, and the firm was aware that persons from a distance were congregating in bishopsgate street, in order that they might see with their own eyes the notices at magenta house. early on the wednesday, the third of the series appeared. it was very short, and ran as follows:-- johnson of manchester is off! the police are on his track! this exciting piece of news was greedily welcomed by the walking public, and a real crowd had congregated on the pavement by noon. a little after that time, while mr. brown was still at dinner with his daughter upstairs, a policeman called and begged to see some member of the firm. jones, whose timidity was overwhelming, immediately sent for mr. brown; and he, also embarrassed, knocked at the door of mr. robinson's little room, and asked for counsel. "the peelers are here, george," he said. "i knew there'd be a row." "i hope so," said robinson; "i most sincerely hope so." as he stood up to answer his senior partner he saw that miss brown was standing behind her father, and he resolved that, as regarded this occasion, he would not be taunted with want of spirit. "but what shall i say to the man?" asked mr. brown. "give him a shilling and a glass of spirits; beg him to keep the people quiet outside, and promise him cold beef and beer at three o'clock. if he runs rusty, send for me." and then, having thus instructed the head of the house, he again seated himself before his writing materials at the table. "mr. robinson," said a soft voice, speaking to him through the doorway, as soon as the ponderous step of the old man was heard descending the stairs. "yes; i am here," said he. "i don't know whether i may open the door," said she; "for i would not for worlds intrude upon your studies." he knew that she was a harpy. he knew that her soft words would only bring him to new grief. but yet he could not help himself. strong, in so much else, he was utterly weak in her hands. she was a harpy who would claw out his heart and feed upon it, without one tender feeling of her own. he had learned to read her character, and to know her for what she was. but yet he could not help himself. "there will be no intrusion," he said. "in half an hour from this time, i go with this copy to the printer's. till then i am at rest." "at rest!" said she. "how sweet it must be to rest after labours such as yours! though you and i are two, mr. robinson, who was once one, still i hear of you, and--sometimes think of you." "i am surprised that you should turn your thoughts to anything so insignificant," he replied. "ah! that is so like you. you are so scornful, and so proud,--and never so proud as when pretending to be humble. i sometimes think that it is better that you and i are two, because you are so proud. what could a poor girl like me have done to satisfy you?" false and cruel that she was! 'tis thus that the basilisk charms the poor bird that falls a victim into its jaws. "it is better that we should have parted," said he. "though i still love you with my whole heart, i know that it is better." "oh, mr. robinson!" "and i would that your nuptials with that man in aldersgate street were already celebrated." "oh, you cruel, heartless man!" "for then i should be able to rest. if you were once another's, i should then know--" "you would know what, mr. robinson?" "that you could never be mine. maryanne!" "sir!" "if you would not have me disgrace myself for ever by my folly, leave me now." "disgrace yourself! i'm sure you'll never do that. 'whatever happens george robinson will always act the gentleman,' i have said of you, times after times, both to father and to william brisket. 'so he will!' father has answered. and then william brisket has said--; i don't know whether i ought to tell you what he said. but what he said was this--'if you're so fond of the fellow, why don't you have him?'" all this was false, and robinson knew that it was false. no such conversation had ever passed. nevertheless, the pulses of his heart were stirred. "tell me this," said he. "are you his promised wife?" "laws, mr. robinson!" "answer me honestly, if you can. is that man to be your husband? if it be so it will be well for him, and well for you, but, above all, it will be well for me, that we should part. and if it be so, why have you come hither to torment me?" "to torment you, george!" "yes; to torment me!" and then he rose suddenly from his feet, and advanced with rapid step and fierce gesture towards the astonished girl. "think you that love such as mine is no torment? think you that i have no heart, no feeling; that this passion which tears me in pieces can exist without throwing a cloud upon my life? with you, as i know too well, all is calm and tranquil. your bosom boils with no ferment. it has never boiled. it will never boil. it can never boil. it is better for you so. you will marry that man, whose house is good, and whose furniture has been paid for. from his shop will come to you your daily meals,--and you will be happy. man wants but little here below, nor wants that little long. adieu." "oh, george, are you going so?" "yes; i am going. why should i stay? did i not with my own hand in this room renounce you?" "yes; you did, george. you did renounce me, and that's what's killing me. so it is,--killing me." then she threw herself into a chair and buried her face in her handkerchief. "would that we could all die," he said, "and that everything should end. but now i go to the printer's. adieu, maryanne." "but we shall see each other occasionally,--as friends?" "to what purpose? no; certainly not as friends. to me such a trial would be beyond my strength." and then he seized the copy from the table, and taking his hat from the peg, he hurried out of the room. "as william is so stiff about the money, i don't know whether it wouldn't be best after all," said she, as she took herself back to her father's apartments. mr. brown, when he met the policeman, found that that excellent officer was open to reason, and that when properly addressed he did not actually insist on the withdrawal of the notice from the window. "every man's house is his castle, you know," said mr. brown. to this the policeman demurred, suggesting that the law quoted did not refer to crowded thoroughfares. but when invited to a collation at three o'clock, he remarked that he might as well abstain from action till that hour, and that he would in the meantime confine his beat to the close vicinity of magenta house. a friendly arrangement grew out of this, which for awhile was convenient to both parties, and two policemen remained in the front of the house, and occasionally entered the premises in search of refreshment. after breakfast on the thursday the fourth notice was put up:-- the public of london will be glad to learn that brown, jones, and robinson have recovered the greatest part of their paper which was in the hands of johnson of manchester. bills to the amount of fifteen thousand pounds are, however, still missing. it was immediately after this that the second policeman was considered to be essentially necessary. the whole house, including the young men and women of the shop, were animated with an enthusiasm which spread itself even to the light porter of the establishment. the conduct of johnson, and his probable fate, were discussed aloud among those who believed in him, while they who were incredulous communicated their want of faith to each other in whispers. mr. brown was smiling, affable, and happy; and jones arrived on the friday morning with a new set of torquoise studs in his shirt. why men and women should have come to the house for gloves, stockings, and ribbons, because johnson of manchester was said to have run away, it may be difficult to explain. but such undoubtedly was the fact, and the sales during that week were so great, as to make it seem that actual commercial prosperity was at hand. "if we could only keep up the ball!" said robinson. "couldn't we change it to tomkins of leeds next week?" suggested jones. "i rather fear that the joke might be thought stale," replied robinson, with a good-natured smile. "there is nothing so fickle as the taste of the public. the most popular author of the day can never count on favour for the next six months." and he bethought himself that, great as he was at the present moment, he also might be eclipsed, and perhaps forgotten, before the posters which he was then preparing had been torn down or become soiled. on the friday no less than four letters appeared in the daily jupiter, all dated from manchester, all signed by men of the name of johnson, and all denying that the writer of that special letter had had any dealings whatever with brown, jones, and robinson, of bishopsgate street, london. there was "johnson brothers," "johnson and co.," "alfred johnson and son," and "johnson and johnson;" and in one of those letters a suggestion was made that b., j., and r., of london, should state plainly who was the special johnson that had gone off with the paper belonging to their house. "i know we shall be detected," said mr. brown, upon whose feelings these letters did not act favourably. "there is nothing to detect," said robinson; "but i will write a letter to the editor." this he did, stating that for reasons which must be quite obvious to the commercial reading public, it would be very unwise in the present state of affairs to give any detailed description of that mr. johnson who had been named; but that b., j., and r. were very happy to be able to certify that that mr. johnson who had failed in his engagements to them was connected neither with johnson brothers, or johnson and co.; nor with alfred johnson and son, or johnson and johnson. this also acted as an advertisement, and no doubt brought grist to the mill. on the evening of that same friday a small note in a scented envelope was found by robinson on his table when he returned upstairs from the shop. well did he know the handwriting, and often in earlier days had he opened such notes with mixed feelings of joy and triumph. all those past letters had been kept by him, and were now lying under lock and key in his desk, tied together with green silk, ready to be returned when the absolute fact of that other marriage should have become a certainty. he half made up his mind to return the present missive unopened. he knew that good could not arise from a renewed correspondence. nevertheless, he tore asunder the envelope, and the words which met his eye were as follows:-- miss brown's compliments to mr. robinson, and will mr. robinson tea with us in papa's room on saturday, at six o'clock? there will be nobody else but mr. and mrs. poppins, that used to be miss twizzle. papa, perhaps, will have to go back to the shop when he's done tea. miss brown hopes mr. robinson will remember old days, and not make himself scornful. "scornful!" said he. "ha! ha! yes; i scorn her;--i do scorn her. but still i love her." then he sat down and accepted the invitation. mr. robinson presents his compliments to miss brown, and will do himself the honour of accepting her kind invitation for to-morrow evening. mr. robinson begs to assure miss brown that he would have great pleasure in meeting any of miss brown's friends whom she might choose to ask. "psha!" said maryanne, when she read it. "it would serve him right to ask bill. and i would, too, only--." only it would hardly have answered her purpose, she might have said, had she spoken out her mind freely. in the meantime the interest as to johnson of manchester was reaching its climax. at ten o'clock on saturday morning each division of the window was nearly covered by an enormous bill, on which in very large letters it was stated that-- johnson of manchester has been taken. from that till twelve the shop was inundated by persons who were bent on learning what was the appearance and likeness of johnson. photographers came to inquire in what gaol he was at present held, and a man who casts heads in plaster of paris was very intent upon seeing him. no information could, of course, be given by the men and women behind the counters. among them there was at present raging a violent discussion as to the existence or non-existence of johnson. it was pleasant to hear jones repeating the circumstances to the senior partner. "mr. brown, there's miss glassbrook gone over to the anti-johnsonites. i think we ought to give her a month's notice." to those who inquired of mr. brown himself, he merely lifted up his hands and shook his head. jones professed that he believed the man to be in the underground cells of newgate. the bill respecting johnson's capture remained up for two hours, and then it was exchanged for another;-- johnson has escaped, but no expense shall be spared in his recapture. at four in the afternoon the public was informed as follows;-- johnson has got off, and sailed for america. and then there was one other, which closed the play late on saturday evening;-- brown, jones, and robinson beg to assure the public that they shall be put out of all suspense early on monday morning. "and what shall we really say to them on monday?" asked mr. jones. "nothing at all," replied mr. robinson. "the thing will be dead by that time. if they call, say that he's in canada." "and won't there be any more about it?" "nothing, i should think. we, however, have gained our object. the house will be remembered, and so will the name of brown, jones, and robinson." and it was so. when the monday morning came the windows were without special notices, and the world walked by in silence, as though johnson of manchester had never existed. some few eager inquirers called at the shop, but they were answered easily; and before the afternoon the name had almost died away behind the counters. "i knew i was right," said miss glassbrook, and mr. jones heard her say so. in and about the shop johnson of manchester was heard of no more, but in mr. brown's own family there was still a certain interest attached to the name. how it came about that this was so, shall be told in the next chapter. chapter xii. samson and delilah. in the commercial world of london there was one man who was really anxious to know what were the actual facts of the case with reference to johnson of manchester. this was mr. william brisket, whose mind at this time was perplexed by grievous doubts. he was called upon to act in a case of great emergency, and was by no means sure that he saw his way. it had been hinted to him by miss brown, on the one side, that it behoved her to look to herself, and take her pigs to market without any more shilly-shallying,--by which expression the fair girl had intended to signify that it would suit her now to name her wedding-day. and he had been informed by mr. brown, on the other side, that that sum of five hundred pounds should be now forthcoming;--or, if not actually the money, mr. brown's promissory note at six months should be handed to him, dated from the day of his marriage with maryanne. under these circumstances, he did not see his way. that the house in bishopsgate street was doing a large business he did not doubt. he visited the place often, and usually found the shop crowded. but he did doubt whether that business was very lucrative. it might be that the whole thing was a bubble, and that it would be burst before that bill should have been honoured. in such case, he would have saddled himself with an empty-handed wife, and would decidedly not have seen his way. in this emergency he went to jones and asked his advice. jones told him confidentially that, though the bill of the firm for five thousand pounds would be as good as paper from the bank of england, the bill of mr. brown himself as an individual would be worth nothing. although mr. brisket had gone to jones as a friend, there had been some very sharp words between them before they separated. brisket knew well enough that all the ready money at the command of the firm had belonged to mr. brown, and he now took upon himself to say that maryanne had a right to her share. jones replied that there was no longer anything to share, and that maryanne's future husband must wait for her fortune till her father could pay it out of his income. "i couldn't see my way like that; not at all," said brisket. and then there had been high words between them. it was at this time that the first act of johnson of manchester's little comedy was being played, and people in mr. brisket's world were beginning to talk about the matter. "they must be doing a deal of trade," said one. "believe me, it is all flash and sham," said another. "i happen to know that old brown did go down to manchester and see johnson there," said the first. "there is no such person at all," said the second. so this went on till mr. brisket resolved that his immediate matrimony should depend on the reality of johnson's existence. if it should appear that johnson, with all his paper, was a false meteor; that no one had deceived the metropolitan public; that no one had been taken and had then escaped, he would tell miss brown that he did not see his way. the light of his intelligence told him that promissory notes from such a source, even though signed by all the firm, would be illusory. if, on the other hand, johnson of manchester had been taken, then, he thought, he might accept the bill--and wife. "maryanne," he said to the young lady early on that day on which she had afterwards had her interview with robinson, "what's all this about johnson of manchester?" "i know nothing about your johnsons, nor yet about your manchester," said miss brown, standing with her back to her lover. at this time she was waxing wroth with him, and had learned to hate his voice, when he would tell her that he had not yet seen his way. "that's all very well, maryanne; but i must know something before i go on." "who wants you to go on? not i, i'm sure; nor anybody belonging to me. if i do hate anything, it's them mercenary ways. there's one who really loves me, who'd be above asking for a shilling, if i'd only put out my hand to him." "if you say that again, maryanne, i'll punch his head." "you're always talking of punching people's heads; but i don't see you do so much. i shouldn't wonder if you don't want to punch my head some of these days." "maryanne, i never riz a hand to a woman yet." "and you'd better not, as far as i'm concerned,--not as long as the pokers and tongs are about." and then there was silence between them for awhile. "maryanne," he began again, "can't you find out about this johnson?" "no; i can't," said she. "you'd better." "then i won't," said she. "i'll tell you what it is, then, maryanne. i don't see my way the least in life about this money." "drat your way! who cares about your way?" "that's all very fine, maryanne; but i care. i'm a man as is as good as my word, and always was. i defy brown, jones, and robinson to say that i'm off, carrying anybody's paper. and as for paper, it's a thing as i knows nothing about, and never wish. when a man comes to paper, it seems to me there's a very thin wall betwixt him and the gutter. when i buys a score of sheep or so, i pays for them down; and when i sells a leg of mutton, i expects no less myself. i don't owe a shilling to no one, and don't mean; and the less that any one owes me, the better i like it. but maryanne, when a man trades in that way, a man must see his way. if he goes about in the dark, or with his eyes shut, he's safe to get a fall. now about this five hundred pound; if i could only see my way--." as to the good sense of mr. brisket's remarks, there was no difference of opinion between him and his intended wife. miss brown would at that time have been quite contented to enter into partnership for life on those terms. and though these memoirs are written with the express view of advocating a theory of trade founded on quite a different basis, nevertheless, it may be admitted that mr. brisket's view of commerce has its charms, presuming that a man has the wherewithal. but such a view is apt to lose its charms in female eyes if it be insisted on too often, or too violently. maryanne had long since given in her adhesion to mr. brisket's theory; but now, weary with repetition of the lesson, she was disposed to rebel. "now, william brisket," she said, "just listen to me. if you talk to me again about seeing your way, you may go and see it by yourself. i'm not so badly off that i'm going to have myself twitted at in that way. if you don't like me, you can do the other thing. and this i will say, when a gentleman has spoken his mind free to a lady, and a lady has given her answer free back to him, it's a very mean thing for a gentleman to be saying so much about money after that. of course, a girl has got herself to look to; and if i take up with you, why, of course, i have to say, 'stand off,' to any other young man as may wish to keep me company. now, there's one as shall be nameless that wouldn't demean himself to say a word about money." "because he ain't got none himself, as i take it." "he's a partner in a first-rate commercial firm. and i'll tell you what, william brisket, i'll not hear a word said against him, and i'll not be put upon myself. so now i wishes you good morning." and so she left him. brisket, when he was alone, scratched his head, and thought wistfully of his love. "i should like to see my way," said he. "i always did like to see my way. and as for that old man's bit of paper--" then he relapsed once again into silence. it was within an hour of all this that maryanne had followed her father to george robinson's room. she had declared her utter indifference as to johnson of manchester; but yet it might, perhaps, be as well that she should learn the truth. from her father she had tried to get it, but he had succeeded in keeping her in the dark. to jones it would be impossible that she should apply; but from robinson she might succeed in obtaining his secret. she had heard, no doubt, of samson and delilah, and thought she knew the way to the strong man's locks. and might it not be well for her to forget that other samson, and once more to trust herself to her father's partners? when she weighed the two young tradesmen one against the other, balancing their claims with such judgment as she possessed, she doubted much as to her choice. she thought that she might be happy with either;--but then it was necessary that the other dear charmer should be away. as to robinson, he would marry her, she knew, at once, without any stipulations. as to brisket,--if brisket should be her ultimate choice,--it would be necessary that she should either worry her father out of the money, or else cheat her lover into the belief that the money would be forthcoming. having taken all these circumstances into consideration, she invited mr. robinson to tea. mr. brown was there, of course, and so also were mr. and mrs. poppins. when robinson entered, they were already at the tea-table, and the great demerits of johnson of manchester were under discussion. "now mr. robinson will tell us everything," said mrs. poppins. "it's about johnson, you know. where has he gone to, mr. robinson?" but robinson professed that he did not know. "he knows well enough," said maryanne, "only he's so close. now do tell us." "he'll tell _you_ anything _you_ choose to ask him," said mrs. poppins. "tell me anything! not him, indeed. what does he care for me?" "i'm sure he would if he only knew what you were saying before he came into the room." "now don't, polly!" "oh, but i shall! because it's better he should know." "now, polly, if you don't hold your tongue, i'll be angry! mr. robinson is nothing to me, and never will be, i'm sure. only if he'd do me the favour, as a friend, to tell us about mr. johnson, i'd take it kind of him." in the meantime mr. brown and his young married guest were discussing things commercial on their own side of the room, and poppins, also, was not without a hope that he might learn the secret. poppins had rather despised the firm at first, as not a few others had done, distrusting all their earlier assurances as to trade bargains, and having been even unmoved by the men in armour. but the great affair of johnson of manchester had overcome even his doubts, and he began to feel that it was a privilege to be noticed by the senior partner in a house which could play such a game as that. it was not that poppins believed in johnson, or that he thought that , _l._ of paper had at any time been missing. but, nevertheless, the proceeding had affected his mind favourably with reference to brown, jones, and robinson, and brought it about that he now respected them,--and, perhaps, feared them a little, though he had not respected or feared them heretofore. had he been the possessor of a wholesale house of business, he would not now have dared to refuse them goods on credit, though he would have done so before johnson of manchester had become known to the world. it may therefore be surmised that george robinson had been right, and that he had understood the ways of british trade when he composed the johnsonian drama. "indeed, i'd rather not, mr. poppins," said mr. brown. "secrets in trade should be secrets. and though mr. johnson has done us a deal of mischief, we don't want to expose him." "but you've been exposing him ever so long," pleaded poppins. "now poppins," said that gentleman's wife, "don't you be troubling mr. brown. he's got other things to think of than answering your questions. i should like to know myself, i own, because all the town's talking about it. and it does seem odd to me that maryanne shouldn't know." "i don't, then," said maryanne. "and i do think when a lady asks a gentleman, the least thing a gentleman can do is to tell. but i shan't ask no more,--not of mr. robinson. i was thinking--. but never mind, polly. perhaps it's best as it is." "would you have me betray my trust?" said robinson. "would you esteem me the more because i had deceived my partners? if you think that i am to earn your love in that way, you know but little of george robinson." then he got up, preparing to leave the room, for his feelings were too many for him. "stop, george, stop," said mr. brown. "let him go," said maryanne. "if he goes away now i shall think him as hard as adam," said mrs. poppins. "there's three to one again him," said mr. poppins to himself. "what chance can he have?" mr. poppins may probably have gone through some such phase of life himself. "let him go," said maryanne again. "i wish he would. and then let him never show himself here again." "george robinson, my son, my son!" exclaimed the old man. it must be understood that robinson had heard all this, though he had left the room. indeed, it may be surmised that had he been out of hearing the words would not have been spoken. he heard them, for he was still standing immediately beyond the door, and was irresolute whether he would depart or whether he would return. "george robinson, my son, my son!" exclaimed the old man again. "he shall come back!" said mrs. poppins, following him out of the door. "he shall come back, though i have to carry him myself." "polly," said maryanne, "if you so much as whisper a word to ask him, i'll never speak to you the longest day you have to live." but the threat was thrown away upon mrs. poppins, and, under her auspices, robinson was brought back into the room. "maryanne," said he, "will you renounce william brisket?" "laws, george!" said she. "of course she will," said mrs. poppins, "and all the pomps and vanities besides." "my son, my son!" said old brown, lifting up both his hands. "my daughter, my daughter! my children, my children!" and then he joined their hands together and blessed them. he blessed them, and then went down into the shop. but before the evening was over, delilah had shorn samson of his locks. "and so there wasn't any johnson after all," said she. but robinson, as he returned home, walked again upon roses. chapter xiii. the wisdom of poppins. george robinson again walked upon roses, and for a while felt that he had accomplished bliss. what has the world to offer equal to the joy of gratified love? what triumph is there so triumphant as that achieved by valour over beauty? take the goods the gods provide you. the lovely thais sits beside you. was not that the happiest moment in alexander's life. was it not the climax of all his glories, and the sweetest drop which fortune poured into his cup? george robinson now felt himself to be a second alexander. beside him the lovely thais was seated evening after evening; and he, with no measured stint, took the goods the gods provided. he would think of the night of that supper in smithfield, when the big brisket sat next to his love, half hidden by her spreading flounces, and would remember how, in his spleen, he had likened his rival to an ox prepared for the sacrifice with garlands. "poor ignorant beast of the field!" he had said, apostrophizing the unconscious brisket, "how little knowest thou how ill those flowers become thee, or for what purpose thou art thus caressed! they will take from thee thy hide, thy fatness, all that thou hast, and divide thy carcase among them. and yet thou thinkest thyself happy! poor foolish beast of the field!" now that ox had escaped from the toils, and a stag of the forest had been caught by his antlers, and was bound for the altar. he knew all this, and yet he walked upon roses and was happy. "sufficient for the day is the evil thereof," he said to himself. "the lovely thais sits beside me. shall i not take the goods the gods provide me?" the lovely thais sat beside him evening after evening for nearly two months, up in mr. brown's parlour, but as yet nothing had been decided as to the day of their marriage. sometimes mr. and mrs. poppins would be there smiling, happy, and confidential; and sometimes mr. and mrs. jones careworn, greedy, and suspicious. on those latter evenings the hours would all be spent in discussing the profits of the shop and the fair division of the spoils. on this subject mrs. jones would be very bitter, and even the lovely thais would have an opinion of her own which seemed to be anything but agreeable to her father. "maryanne," her lover said to her one evening, when words had been rather high among them, "if you want your days to be long in the land, you must honour your father and mother." "i don't want my days to be long, if we're never to come to an understanding," she answered. "and i've got no mother, as you know well, or you wouldn't treat me so." "you must understand, father," said sarah jane, "that things shan't go on like this. jones shall have his rights, though he don't seem half man enough to stand up for them. what's the meaning of partnership, if nobody's to know where the money goes to?" "i've worked like a horse," said jones. "i'm never out of that place from morning to night,--not so much as to get a pint of beer. and, as far as i can see, i was better off when i was at scrimble and grutts. i did get my salary regular." mr. brown was at this time in tears, and as he wept he lifted up hands. "my children, my children!" said he. "that's all very well, father," said maryanne. "but whimpering won't keep anybody's pot a-boiling. i'm sick of this sort of thing, and, to tell the truth, i think it quite time to see some sort of a house over my head." "would that i could seat you in marble halls!" said george robinson. "oh, bother!" said maryanne. "that sort of a thing is very good in a play, but business should be business." it must always be acknowledged, in favour of mr. brown's youngest daughter, that her views were practical, and not over-strained by romance. during these two or three months a considerable intimacy sprang up between mr. poppins and george robinson. it was not that there was any similarity in their characters, for in most respects they were essentially unlike each other. but, perhaps, this very difference led to their friendship. how often may it be observed in the fields that a high-bred, quick-paced horse will choose some lowly donkey for his close companionship, although other horses of equal birth and speed be in the same pasture! poppins was a young man of an easy nature and soft temper, who was content to let things pass by him unquestioned, so long as they passed quietly. live and let live, were words that were often on his lips;--by which he intended to signify that he would overlook the peccadilloes of other people, as long as other people overlooked his own. when the lady who became afterwards mrs. poppins had once called him a rascal, he had not with loud voice asserted the injustice of the appellation, but had satisfied himself with explaining to her that, even were it so, he was still fit for her society. he possessed a practical philosophy of his own, by which he was able to steer his course in life. he was not, perhaps, prepared to give much to others, but neither did he expect that much should be given to him. there was no ardent generosity in his temperament; but then, also, there was no malice or grasping avarice. if in one respect he differed much from our mr. robinson, so also in another respect did he differ equally from our mr. jones. he was at this time a counting-house clerk in a large wharfinger's establishment, and had married on a salary of eighty pounds a year. "i tell you what it is, robinson," said he, about this time: "i don't understand this business of yours." "no," said robinson; "perhaps not. a business like ours is not easily understood." "you don't seem to me to divide any profits." "in an affair of such magnitude the profits cannot be adjusted every day, nor yet every month." "but a man wants his bread and cheese every day. now, there's old brown. he's a deal sharper than i took him for." "mr. brown, for a commercial man of the old school, possesses considerable intelligence," said robinson. throughout all these memoirs, it may be observed that mr. robinson always speaks with respect of mr. brown. "very considerable indeed," said poppins. "he seems to me to nobble everything. perhaps that was the old school. the young school ain't so very different in that respect;--only, perhaps, there isn't so much for them to nobble." "a regular division of our profits has been arranged for in our deed of partnership," said robinson. "that's uncommon nice, and very judicious," said poppins. "it was thought to be so by our law advisers," said robinson. "but yet, you see, old brown nobbles the money. now, if ever i goes into partnership, i shall bargain to have the till for my share. you never get near the till, do you?" "i attend to quite another branch of the business," said robinson. "then you're wrong. there's no branch of the business equal to the ready money branch. old brown has lots of ready money always by him now-a-days." it certainly was the case that the cash received day by day over the counter was taken by mr. brown from the drawers and deposited by him in the safe. the payments into the bank were made three times a week, and the checks were all drawn by mr. brown. none of these had ever been drawn except on behalf of the business; but then the payments into the bank had by no means tallied with the cash taken; and latterly,--for the last month or so,--the statements of the daily cash taken had been very promiscuous. some payments had, of course, been made both to jones and robinson for their own expenses, but the payments made by mr. brown to himself had probably greatly exceeded these. he had a vague idea that he was supreme in money matters, because he had introduced "capital" into the firm. george robinson had found it absolutely impossible to join himself in any league with jones, so that hitherto mr. brown had been able to carry out his own theory. the motto, _divide et impera_, was probably unknown to mr. brown in those words, but he had undoubtedly been acting on the wisdom which is conveyed in that doctrine. jones and his wife were preparing themselves for war, and it was plain to see that a storm of battle would soon be raging. robinson also was fully alive to the perils of his position, and anxious as he was to remain on good terms with mr. brown, was aware that it would be necessary for him to come to some understanding. in his difficulty he had dropped some hints to his friend poppins, not exactly explaining the source of his embarrassment, but saying enough to make that gentleman understand the way in which the firm was going on. "i suppose you're in earnest about that girl," said poppins. poppins had an offhand, irreverent way of speaking, especially on subjects which from their nature demanded delicacy, that was frequently shocking to robinson. "if you mean miss brown," said robinson, in a tone of voice that was intended to convey a rebuke, "i certainly am in earnest. my intention is that she shall become mrs. robinson." "but when?" "as soon as prudence will permit and the lady will consent. miss brown has never been used to hardship. for myself, i should little care what privations i might be called on to bear, but i could hardly endure to see her in want." "my advice to you is this. if you mean to marry her, do it at once. if you and she together can't manage the old man, you can't be worth your salt. if you can do that, then you can throw jones overboard." "i am not in the least afraid of jones." "perhaps not; but still you'd better mind your p's and q's. it seems to me that you and he and the young women are at sixes and sevens, and that's the reason why old brown is able to nobble the money." "i certainly should be happier," said robinson, "if i were married, and things were settled." "as to marriage," said poppins, "my opinion is this; if a man has to do it, he might as well do it at once. they're always pecking at you; and a fellow feels that if he's in for it, what's the good of his fighting it out?" "i should never marry except for love," said robinson. "nor i neither," said poppins. "that is, i couldn't bring myself to put up with a hideous old hag, because she'd money. i should always be wanting to throttle her. but as long as they're young, and soft, and fresh, one can always love 'em;--at least i can." "i never loved but one," said robinson. "there was a good many of them used to be pretty much the same to me. they was all very well; but as to breaking my heart about them,--why, it's a thing that i never understood." "do you know, poppins, what i did twice,--ay, thrice,--in those dark days?" "what; when brisket was after her?" "yes; when she used to say that she loved another. thrice did i go down to the river bank, intending to terminate this wretched existence." "did you now?" "i swear to you that i did. but providence, who foresaw the happiness that is in store for me, withheld me from the leap." "polly once took up with a sergeant, and i can't say i liked it." "and what did you do?" "i got uncommon drunk, and then i knocked the daylight out of him. we've been the best of friends ever since. but about marrying;--if a man is to do it, he'd better do it. it depends a good deal on the young woman, of course, and whether she's comfortable in her mind. some women ain't comfortable, and then there's the devil to pay. you don't get enough to eat, and nothing to drink; and if ever you leave your pipe out of your pocket, she smashes it. i've know'd 'em of that sort, and a man had better have the rheumatism constant." "i don't think maryanne is like that." "well; i can't say. polly isn't. she's not over good, by no means, and would a deal sooner sit in a arm-chair and have her victuals and beer brought to her, than she'd break her back by working too hard. she'd like to be always a-junketing, and that's what she's best for,--as is the case with many of 'em." "i've seen her as sportive as a young fawn at the hall of harmony." "but she ain't a young fawn any longer; and as for harmony, it's my idea that the less of harmony a young woman has the better. it makes 'em give themselves airs, and think as how their ten fingers were made to put into yellow gloves, and that a young man hasn't nothing to do but to stand treat, and whirl 'em about till he ain't able to stand. a game's all very well, but bread and cheese is a deal better." "i love to see beauty enjoying itself gracefully. my idea of a woman is incompatible with the hard work of the world. i would fain do that myself, so that she should ever be lovely." "but she won't be lovely a bit the more. she'll grow old all the same, and take to drink very like. when she's got a red nose and a pimply face, and a sharp tongue, you'd be glad enough to see her at the wash-tub then. i remember an old song as my father used to sing, but my mother couldn't endure to hear it. woman takes delight in abundance of pleasure, but a man's life is to labour and toil. that's about the truth of it, and that's what comes of your halls of harmony." "you would like woman to be a household drudge." "so i would,--only drudge don't sound well. call her a ministering angel instead, and it comes to the same thing. they both of 'em means much of a muchness;--getting up your linen decent, and seeing that you have a bit of something hot when you come home late. well, good-night, old fellow. i shall have my hair combed if i stay much longer. take my advice, and as you mean to do it, do it at once. and don't let the old 'un nobble all the money. live and let live. that's fair play all over." and so mr. poppins took his leave. had anybody suggested to george robinson that he should go to poppins for advice as to his course of life, george robinson would have scorned the suggestion. he knew very well the great difference between him and his humble friend, both as regarded worldly position and intellectual attainments. but, nevertheless, there was a strain of wisdom in poppins' remarks which, though it appertained wholly to matters of low import, he did not disdain to use. it was true that maryanne brown still frequented the hall of harmony, and went there quite as often without her betrothed as with him. it was true that mr. brown had adopted a habit of using the money of the firm, without rendering a fair account of the purpose to which he applied it. the hall of harmony might not be the best preparation for domestic duties, nor mr. brown's method of applying the funds the best specific for commercial success. he would look to both these things, and see that some reform were made. indeed, he would reform them both entirely by insisting on a division of the profits, and by taking maryanne to his own bosom. great ideas filled his mind. if any undue opposition were made to his wishes when expressed, he would leave the firm, break up the business, and carry his now well-known genius for commercial enterprise to some other concern in which he might be treated with a juster appreciation of his merits. "not that i will ever leave thee, maryanne," he said to himself, as he resolved these things in his mind. chapter xiv. mistress morony. it was about ten days after the conversation recorded in the last chapter between mr. robinson and mr. poppins that an affair was brought about through the imprudence and dishonesty of mr. jones, which for some time prevented that settlement of matters on which mr. robinson had resolved. during those ten days he had been occupied in bringing his resolution to a fixed point; and then, when the day and hour had come in which he intended to act, that event occurred which, disgraceful as it is to the annals of the firm, must now be told. there are certain small tricks of trade, well known to the lower class of houses in that business to which brown, jones, and robinson had devoted themselves, which for a time may no doubt be profitable, but which are very apt to bring disgrace and ruin upon those who practise them. to such tricks as these mr. jones was wedded, and by none of the arguments which he used in favour of a high moral tone of commerce could robinson prevail upon his partner to abandon them. nothing could exceed the obstinacy and blindness of mr. jones during these discussions. when it was explained to him that the conduct he was pursuing was hardly removed,--nay, it was not removed,--from common swindling, he would reply that it was quite as honest as mr. robinson's advertisements. he would quote especially those katakairion shirts which were obtained from hodges, and of which the sale at _s._ _d._ the half-dozen had by dint of a wide circulation of notices become considerable. "if that isn't swindling, i don't know what is," said jones. "do you know what katakairion means?" said robinson. "no; i don't," said jones. "and i don't want to know." "katakairion means 'fitting,'" said robinson; "and the purchaser has only to take care that the shirt he buys does fit, and then it is katakairion." "but we didn't invent them." "we invented the price and the name, and that's as much as anybody does. but that is not all. it's a well-understood maxim in trade, that a man may advertise whatever he chooses. we advertise to attract notice, not to state facts. but it's a mean thing to pass off a false article over the counter. if you will ticket your goods, you should sell them according to the ticket." at first, the other partners had not objected to this ticketing, as the practice is now common, and there is at first sight an apparent honesty about it which has its seduction. a lady seeing _s._ _d._ marked on a mantle in the window, is able to contemplate the desired piece of goods and to compare it, in silent leisure, with her finances. she can use all her power of eye, but, as a compensation to the shopkeeper, is debarred from the power of touch; and then, having satisfied herself as to the value of the thing inspected, she can go in and buy without delay or trouble to the vendor. but it has been found by practice that so true are the eyes of ladies that it is useless to expose in shop-windows articles which are not good of their kind, and cheap at the price named. to attract customers in this way, real bargains must be exhibited; and when this is done, ladies take advantage of the unwary tradesman, and unintended sacrifices are made. george robinson soon perceived this, and suggested that the ticketing should be abandoned. jones, however, persevered, observing that he knew how to remedy the evil inherent in the system. hence difficulties arose, and, ultimately, disgrace, which was very injurious to the firm, and went near to break the heart of mr. brown. according to jones's plan, the articles ticketed in the window were not, under any circumstances, to be sold. the shopmen, indeed, were forbidden to remove them from their positions under any entreaties or threats from the customers. the customer was to be at first informed, with all the blandishment at the shopman's command, that the goods furnished within the shop were exact counterparts of those exposed. then the shopman was to argue that the arrangements of the window could not be disturbed. and should a persistent purchaser after that insist on a supposed legal right, to buy the very thing ticketed, mr. jones was to be called; in which case mr. jones would inform the persistent purchaser that she was regarded as unreasonable, violent, and disagreeable; and that, under such circumstances, her custom was not wanted by brown, jones, and robinson. the disappointed female would generally leave the shop with some loud remarks as to swindling, dishonesty, and pettifogging, to which mr. jones could turn a deaf ear. but sometimes worse than this would ensue; ladies would insist on their rights; scrambles would occur in order that possession of the article might be obtained; the assistants in the shop would not always take part with mr. jones; and, as has been before said, serious difficulties would arise. there can be no doubt that jones was very wrong. he usually was wrong. his ideas of trade were mean, limited, and altogether inappropriate to business on a large scale. but, nevertheless, we cannot pass on to the narration of a circumstance as it did occur, without expressing our strong abhorrence of those ladies who are desirous of purchasing cheap goods to the manifest injury of the tradesmen from whom they buy them. the ticketing of goods at prices below their value is not to our taste, but the purchasing of such goods is less so. the lady who will take advantage of a tradesman, that she may fill her house with linen, or cover her back with finery, at his cost, and in a manner which her own means would not fairly permit, is, in our estimation,--a robber. it is often necessary that tradesmen should advertise tremendous sacrifices. it is sometimes necessary that they should actually make such sacrifices. brown, jones, and robinson have during their career been driven to such a necessity. they have smiled upon their female customers, using their sweetest blandishments, while those female customers have abstracted their goods at prices almost nominal. brown, jones, and robinson, in forcing such sales, have been coerced by the necessary laws of trade; but while smiling with all their blandishments, they have known that the ladies on whom they have smiled have been--robbers. why is it that commercial honesty has so seldom charms for women? a woman who would give away the last shawl from her back will insist on smuggling her gloves through the custom-house! who can make a widow understand that she should not communicate with her boy in the colonies under the dishonest cover of a newspaper? is not the passion for cheap purchases altogether a female mania? and yet every cheap purchase,--every purchase made at a rate so cheap as to deny the vendor his fair profit is, in truth, a dishonesty;--a dishonesty to which the purchaser is indirectly a party. would that women could be taught to hate bargains! how much less useless trash would there be in our houses, and how much fewer tremendous sacrifices in our shops! brown, jones, and robinson, when they had been established some six or eight months, had managed to procure from a house in the silk trade a few black silk mantles of a very superior description. the lot had been a remnant, and had been obtained with sundry other goods at a low figure. but, nevertheless, the proper price at which the house could afford to sell them would exceed the mark of general purchasers in bishopsgate street. these came into mr. jones' hands, and he immediately resolved to use them for the purposes of the window. some half-dozen of them were very tastefully arranged upon racks, and were marked at prices which were very tempting to ladies of discernment. in the middle of one window there was a copious mantle, of silk so thick that it stood almost alone, very full in its dimensions, and admirable in its fashion. this mantle, which would not have been dearly bought for _l._ _s._ or _l._, was injudiciously ticketed at _s._ ½_d._ "it will bring dozens of women to the shop," said jones, "and we have an article of the same shape and colour, which we can do at that price uncommonly well." whether or no the mantle had brought dozens of women into the shop, cannot now be said, but it certainly brought one there whom brown, jones, and robinson will long remember. mrs. morony was an irishwoman who, as she assured the magistrates in worship street, had lived in the very highest circles in limerick, and had come from a princely stock in the neighbouring county of glare. she was a full-sized lady, not without a certain amount of good looks, though at the period of her intended purchase in bishopsgate street, she must have been nearer fifty than forty. her face was florid, if not red, her arms were thick and powerful, her eyes were bright, but, as seen by brown, jones, and robinson, not pleasant to the view, and she always carried with her an air of undaunted resolution. when she entered the shop, she was accompanied by a thin, acrid, unmarried female friend, whose feminine charms by no means equalled her own. she might be of about the same age, but she had more of the air and manner of advanced years. her nose was long, narrow and red; her eyes were set very near together; she was tall and skimpy in all her proportions; and her name was miss biles. of the name and station of mrs. morony, or of miss biles, nothing was of course known when they entered the shop; but with all these circumstances, b., j., and r. were afterwards made acquainted. "i believe i'll just look at that pelisse, if you plaze," said mrs. morony, addressing herself to a young man who stood near to the window in which the mantle was displayed. "certainly, ma'am," said the man. "if you'll step this way, i'll show you the article." "i see the article there," said mrs. morony, poking at it with her parasol. standing where she did she was just able to touch it in this way. "that's the one i mane, with the price;--how much was it, miss biles?" "one, eighteen, eleven and a halfpenny," said miss biles, who had learned the figures by heart before she ventured to enter the shop. "if you'll do me the favour to step this way i'll show you the same article," said the man, who was now aware that it was his first duty to get the ladies away from that neighbourhood. but mrs. morony did not move. "it's the one there that i'm asking ye for," said she, pointing again, and pointing this time with the hooked end of her parasol. "i'll throuble ye, young man, to show me the article with the ticket." "the identical pelisse, if you please, sir," said miss biles, "which you there advertise as for sale at one, eighteen, eleven and a halfpenny." and then she pressed her lips together, and looked at the shopman with such vehemence that her two eyes seemed to grow into one. the poor man knew that he was in a difficulty, and cast his eyes across the shop for assistance. jones, who in his own branch was ever on the watch,--and let praise for that diligence be duly given to him,--had seen from the first what was in the wind. from the moment in which the stout lady had raised her parasol he felt that a battle was imminent; but he had thought it prudent to abstain awhile from the combat himself. he hovered near, however, as personal protection might be needed on behalf of the favourite ornament of his window. "i'll throuble you, if you plaze, sir, to raich me that pelisse," said mrs. morony. "we never disturb our window," said the man, "but we keep the same article in the shop." "don't you be took in by that, mrs. morony," said miss biles. "i don't mane," said mrs. morony. "i shall insist, sir--" now was the moment in which, as jones felt, the interference of the general himself was necessary. mrs. morony was in the act of turning herself well round towards the window, so as to make herself sure of her prey when she should resolve on grasping it. miss biles had already her purse in her hand, ready to pay the legal claim. it was clear to be seen that the enemy was of no mean skill and of great valour. the intimidation of mrs. morony might be regarded as a feat beyond the power of man. her florid countenance had already become more than ordinarily rubicund, and her nostrils were breathing anger. "ma'am," said mr. jones, stepping up and ineffectually attempting to interpose himself between her and the low barrier which protected the goods exposed to view, "the young man has already told you that we cannot disarrange the window. it is not our habit to do so. if you will do me the honour to walk to a chair, he shall show you any articles which you may desire to inspect." "don't you be done," whispered miss biles. "i don't mane, if i know it," said mrs. morony, standing her ground manfully. "i don't desire to inspect anything,--only that pelisse." "i am sorry that we cannot gratify you," said mr. jones. "but you must gratify me. it's for sale, and the money's on it." "you shall have the same article at the same price;" and mr. jones, as he spoke, endeavoured to press the lady out of her position. "but positively you cannot have that. we never break through our rules." "chaiting the public is the chief of your rules, i'm thinking," said mrs. morony; "but you'll not find it so aisy to chait me. pay them the money down on the counter, miss biles, dear." and so saying she thrust forth her parasol, and succeeded in her attempt to dislodge the prey. knowing well where to strike her blow and obtain a hold, she dragged forth the mantle, and almost got it into her left hand. but jones could not stand by and see his firm thus robbed. dreadful as was his foe in spirit, size, and strength, his manliness was too great for this. so he also dashed forward, and was the first to grasp the silk. "are you going to rob the shop?" said he. "is it rob?" said mrs. morony. "by the powers, thin, ye're the biggest blag-guard my eyes have seen since i've been in london, and that's saying a long word. is it rob to me? i'll tell you what it is, young man,--av you don't let your fingers off this pelisse that i've purchased, i'll have you before the magisthrates for stailing it. have you paid the money down, dear?" miss biles was busy counting out the cash, but no one was at hand to take it from her. it was clear that the two confederates had prepared themselves at all points for the contest, having, no doubt, more than once inspected the article from the outside,--for miss biles had the exact sum ready, done to the odd halfpenny. "there," said she, appealing to the young man who was nearest to her, "one, eighteen, eleven, and a halfpenny." but the young man was deaf to the charmer, even though she charmed with ready money. "may i trouble you to see that the cash is right." but the young man would not be troubled. "you'd a deal better leave it go, ma'am," said jones, "or i shall be obliged to send for the police." "is it the police? faith, thin, and i think you'd better send! give me my mantilla, i say. it's bought and paid for at your own price." by this time there was a crowd in the shop, and jones, in his anxiety to defend the establishment, had closed with mrs. morony, and was, as it were, wrestling with her. his effort, no doubt, had been to disengage her hand from the unfortunate mantle; but in doing so, he was led into some slight personal violence towards the lady. and now miss biles, having deposited her money, attacked him from behind, declaring that her friend would be murdered. "come, hands off. a woman's a woman always!" said one of the crowd who had gathered round them. "what does the man mean by hauling a female about that way?" said another. "the poor crathur's nigh murthered wid him intirely," said a countrywoman from the street. "if she's bought the thingumbob at your own price, why don't you give it her?" asked a fourth. "i'll be hanged if she shall have it!" said jones, panting for breath. he was by no means deficient in spirit on such an occasion as this. "and it's my belief you will be hanged," said miss biles, who was still working away at his back. the scene was one which was not creditable to the shop of english tradesmen in the nineteenth century. the young men and girls had come round from behind the counter, but they made no attempt to separate the combatants. mr. jones was not loved among them, and the chance of war seemed to run very much in favour of the lady. one discreet youth had gone out in quest of a policeman, but he was not successful in his search till he had walked half a mile from the door. mr. jones was at last nearly smothered in the encounter, for the great weight and ample drapery of mrs. morony were beginning to tell upon him. when she got his back against the counter, it was as though a feather bed was upon him. in the meantime the unfortunate mantle had fared badly between them, and was now not worth the purchase-money which, but ten minutes since, had been so eagerly tendered for it. things were in this state when mr. brown slowly descended into the arena, while george robinson, standing at the distant doorway in the back, looked on with blushing cheeks. one of the girls had explained to mr. brown what was the state of affairs, and he immediately attempted to throw oil on the troubled waters. "wherefore all this noise?" he said, raising both his hands as he advanced slowly to the spot. "mr. jones, i implore you to desist!" but mr. jones was wedged down upon the counter, and could not desist. "madam, what can i do for you?" and he addressed himself to the back of mrs. marony, which was still convulsed violently by her efforts to pummel mr. jones. "i believe he's well nigh killed her; i believe he has," said miss biles. then, at last, the discreet youth returned with three policemen, and the fight was at an end. that the victory was with mrs. morony nobody could doubt. she held in her hand all but the smallest fragment of the mantle,--the price of which, however, miss biles had been careful to repocket,--and showed no sign of exhaustion, whereas jones was speechless. but, nevertheless, she was in tears, and appealed loudly to the police and to the crowd as to her wrongs. "i'm fairly murthered with him, thin, so i am,--the baist, the villain, the swindhler. what am i to do at all, and my things all desthroyed? look at this, thin!" and she held up the cause of war. "did mortial man iver see the like of that? and i'm beaten black and blue wid him,--so i am." and then she sobbed violently. "so you are, mrs. morony," said miss biles. "he to call himself a man indeed, and to go to strike a woman!" "it's thrue for you, dear," continued mrs. morony. "policemen, mind, i give him in charge. you're all witnesses, i give that man in charge." mr. jones, also, was very eager to secure the intervention of the police,--much more so than was mr. brown, who was only anxious that everybody should retire. mr. jones could never be made to understand that he had in any way been wrong. "a firm needn't sell an article unless it pleases," he argued to the magistrate. "a firm is bound to make good its promises, sir," replied the gentleman in worship street. "and no respectable firm would for a moment hesitate to do so." and then he made some remarks of a very severe nature. mr. brown did all that he could to prevent the affair from becoming public. he attempted to bribe mrs. morony by presenting her with the torn mantle; but she accepted the gift, and then preferred her complaint. he bribed the policemen, also; but, nevertheless, the matter got into the newspaper reports. the daily jupiter, of course, took it up,--for what does it not take up in its solicitude for poor british human nature?--and tore brown, jones, and robinson to pieces in a leading article. no punishment could be inflicted on the firm, for, as the magistrate said, no offence could be proved. the lady, also, had certainly been wrong to help herself. but the whole affair was damaging in the extreme to magenta house, and gave a terrible check to that rapid trade which had already sprang up under the influence of an extended system of advertising. chapter xv. miss brown names the day. george robinson had been in the very act of coming to an understanding with mr. brown as to the proceeds of the business, when he was interrupted by that terrible affair of mrs. morony. for some days after that the whole establishment was engaged in thinking, talking, and giving evidence about the matter, and it was all that the firm could do to keep the retail trade going across the counter. some of the young men and women gave notice, and went away; and others became so indifferent that it was necessary to get rid of them. for a week it was doubtful whether it would be possible to keep the house open, and during that week mr. brown was so paralyzed by his feelings that he was unable to give any assistance. he sat upstairs moaning, accompanied generally by his two daughters; and he sent a medical certificate to worship street, testifying his inability to appear before the magistrate. from what transpired afterwards we may say that the magistrate would have treated him more leniently than did the young women. they were aware that whatever money yet remained was in his keeping; and now, as at the time of their mother's death, it seemed fitting to them that a division should be made of the spoils. "george," he said one evening to his junior partner, "i'd like to be laid decent in kensal green! i know it will come to that soon." robinson hereupon reminded him that care had killed a cat; and promised him all manner of commercial greatness if he could only rouse himself to his work. "the career of a merchant prince is still open to you," said robinson, enthusiastically. "not along with maryanne and sarah jane, george!" "sarah jane is a married woman, and sits at another man's hearth. why do you allow her to trouble you?" "she is my child, george. a man can't deny himself to his child. at least i could not. and i don't want to be a merchant prince. if i could only have a little place of my own, that was my own; and where they wouldn't always be nagging after money when they come to see me." poor mr. brown! he was asking from the fairies that for which we are all asking,--for which men have ever asked. he merely desired the comforts of the world, without its cares. he wanted his small farm of a few acres, as horace wanted it, and cincinnatus, and thousands of statesmen, soldiers, and merchants, from their days down to ours; his small farm, on which, however, the sun must always shine, and where no weeds should flourish. poor mr. brown! such little farms for the comforts of old age can only be attained by long and unwearied cultivation during the years of youth and manhood. it was on one occasion such as this, not very long after the affair of mrs. morony, that robinson pressed very eagerly upon mr. brown the special necessity which demanded from the firm at the present moment more than ordinary efforts in the way of advertisement. "jones has given us a great blow," said robinson. "i fear he has," said mr. brown. "and now, if we do not put our best foot forward it will be all up with us. if we flag now, people will see that we are down. but if we go on with audacity, all those reports will die away, and we shall again trick our beams, and flame once more in the morning sky." it may be presumed that mr. brown did not exactly follow the quotation, but the eloquence of robinson had its desired effect. mr. brown did at last produce a sum of five hundred pounds, with which printers, stationers, and advertising agents were paid or partially paid, and robinson again went to work. "it's the last," said mr. brown, with a low moan, "and would have been maryanne's!" robinson, when he heard this, was much struck by the old man's enduring courage. how had he been able to preserve this sum from the young woman's hands, pressed as he had been by her and by brisket? of this robinson said nothing, but he did venture to allude to the fact that the money must, in fact, belong to the firm. this is here mentioned chiefly as showing the reason why robinson did not for awhile renew the business on which he was engaged when mrs. morony's presence in the shop was announced. he felt that no private matter should be allowed for a time to interfere with his renewed exertions; and he also felt that as mr. brown had responded to his entreaties in that matter of the five hundred pounds, it would not become him to attack the old man again immediately. for three months he applied himself solely to business; and then, when affairs had partially been restored under his guidance, he again resolved, under the further instigation of poppins, to put things at once on a proper footing. "so you ain't spliced yet," said poppins. "no, not yet." "nor won't be,--not to maryanne brown. there was my wife at brisket's, in aldersgate street, yesterday, and we all know what that means." "what does it mean?" demanded robinson, scowling fearfully. "would you hint to me that she is false?" "false! no! she's not false that i know of. she's ready enough to have you, if you can put yourself right with the old man. but if you can't,--why, of course, she's not to wait till her hair's grey. she and polly are as thick as thieves, and so polly has been to aldersgate street. polly says that the jones's are getting their money regularly out of the till." "wait till her hair be grey!" said robinson, when he was left to himself. "do i wish her to wait? would i not stand with her at the altar to-morrow, though my last half-crown should go to the greedy priest who joined us? and she has sent her friend to aldersgate street,--to my rival! there must, at any rate, be an end of this!" late on that evening, when his work was over, he took a glass of hot brandy-and-water at the "four swans," and then he waited upon mr. brown. he luckily found the senior partner alone. "mr. brown," said he, "i've come to have a little private conversation." "private, george! well, i'm all alone. maryanne is with mrs. poppins, i think." with mrs. poppins! yes; and where might she not be with mrs. poppins? robinson felt that he had it within him at that moment to start off for aldersgate street. "but first to business," said he, as he remembered the special object for which he had come. "for the present it is well that she should be away," he said. "mr. brown, the time has now come at which it is absolutely necessary that i should know where i am." "where you are, george?" "yes; on what ground i stand. who i am before the world, and what interest i represent. is it the fact that i am the junior partner in the house of brown, jones, and robinson?" "why, george, of course you are." "and is it the fact that by the deed of partnership drawn up between us, i am entitled to receive one quarter of the proceeds of the business?" "no, george, no; not proceeds." "what then?" "profits, george; one quarter of the profits." "and what is my share for the year now over?" "you have lived, george; you must always remember that. it is a great thing in itself even to live out of a trade in these days. you have lived; you must acknowledge that." "mr. brown, i am not a greedy man, nor a suspicious man, nor an idle man, nor a man of pleasure. but i am a man in love." "and she shall be yours, george." "ay, sir, that is easily said. she shall be mine, and in order that she may be mine, i must request to know what is accurately the state of our account?" "george," said mr. brown in a piteous accent, "you and i have always been friends." "but there are those who will do much for their enemies out of fear, though they will do nothing for their friends out of love. jones has a regular income out of the business." "only forty shillings or so on every saturday night; nothing more, on my honour. and then they've babbies, you know, and they must live." "by the terms of our partnership i am entitled to as much as he." "but then, george, suppose that nobody is entitled to nothing! suppose there is no profits. we all must live, you know, but then it's only hand to mouth; is it?" how terrible was this statement as to the affairs of the firm, coming, as it did, from the senior partner, who not more than twelve months since entered the business with a sum of four thousand pounds in hard cash! robinson, whose natural spirit in such matters was sanguine and buoyant, felt that even he was depressed. had four thousand pounds gone, and was there no profit? he knew well that the stock on hand would not even pay the debts that were due. the shop had always been full, and the men and women at the counter had always been busy. the books had nominally been kept by himself; but who can keep the books of a concern, if he be left in ignorance as to the outgoings and incomings? "that comes of attempting to do business on a basis of capital!" he said in a voice of anger. "it comes of advertising, george. it comes of little silver books, and big wooden stockings, and men in armour, and cats-carrion shirts; that's what it's come from, george." "never," said robinson, rising from his chair with energetic action. "never. you may as well tell me that the needle does not point to the pole, that the planets have not their appointed courses, that the swelling river does not run to the sea. there are facts as to which the world has ceased to dispute, and this is one of them. advertise, advertise, advertise! it may be that we have fallen short in our duty; but the performance of a duty can never do an injury." in reply to this, old brown merely shook his head. "do you know what barlywig has spent on his physic; barlywig's medean potion? forty thousand a-year for the last ten years, and now barlywig is worth;--i don't know what barlywig is worth; but i know he is in parliament." "we haven't stuff to go on like that, george." in answer to this, robinson knew not what to urge, but he did know that his system was right. at this moment the door was opened, and maryanne brown entered the room. "father," she said, as soon as her foot was over the threshold of the door; but then seeing that mr. brown was not alone, she stopped herself. there was an angry spot on her cheeks, and it was manifest from the tone of her voice that she was about to address her father in anger. "oh, george; so you are there, are you? i suppose you came, because you knew i was out." "i came, maryanne," said he, putting out his hand to her, "i came--to settle our wedding day." "my children, my children!" said mr. brown. "that's all very fine," said maryanne; "but i've heard so much about wedding days, that i'm sick of it, and don't mean to have none." "what; you will never be a bride?" "no; i won't. what's the use?" "you shall be my bride;--to-morrow if you will." "i'll tell you what it is, george robinson; my belief of you is, that you are that soft, a man might steal away your toes without your feet missing 'em." "you have stolen away my heart, and my body is all the lighter." "it's light enough; there's no doubt of that, and so is your head. your heels too were, once, but you've given up that." "yes, maryanne. when a man commences the stern realities of life, that must be abandoned. but now i am anxious to commence a reality which is not stern,--that reality which is for me to soften all the hardness of this hardworking world. maryanne, when shall be our wedding day?" for a while the fair beauty was coy, and would give no decisive answer; but at length under the united pressure of her father and lover, a day was named. a day was named, and mr. brown's consent to that day was obtained; but this arrangement was not made till he had undertaken to give up the rooms in which he at present lived, and to go into lodgings in the neighbourhood. "george," said she, in a confidential whisper, before the evening was over, "if you don't manage about the cash now, and have it all your own way, you must be soft." under the influence of gratified love, he promised her that he would manage it. "bless you, my children, bless you," said mr. brown, as they parted for the night. "bless you, and may your loves be lasting, and your children obedient." chapter xvi. showing how robinson walked upon roses. "will it ever be said of me when my history is told that i spent forty thousand pounds a-year in advertising a single article? would that it might be told that i had spent ten times forty thousand." it was thus that robinson had once spoken to his friend poppins, while some remnant of that five hundred pounds was still in his hands. "but what good does it do? it don't make anything." "but it sells them, poppins." "everybody wears a shirt, and no one wears more than one at a time. i don't see that it does any good." "it is a magnificent trade in itself. would that i had a monopoly of all the walls in london! the very arches of the bridges must be worth ten thousand a-year. the omnibuses are invaluable; the cabs are a mine of wealth; and the railway stations throughout england would give a revenue for an emperor. poppins, my dear fellow, i fancy that you have hardly looked into the depths of it." "perhaps not," said poppins. "some objects to them that they're all lies. it isn't that i mind. as far as i can see, everything is mostly lies. the very worst article our people can get for sale, they call 'middlings;' the real middlings are 'very superior,' and so on. they're all lies; but they don't cost anything, and all the world knows what they mean. bad things must be bought and sold, and if we said our things was bad, nobody would buy them. but i can't understand throwing away so much money and getting nothing." poppins possessed a glimmering of light, but it was only a glimmering. he could understand that a man should not call his own goods middling; but he could not understand that a man is only carrying out the same principle in an advanced degree, when he proclaims with a hundred thousand voices in a hundred thousand places, that the article which he desires to sell is the best of its kind that the world has yet produced. he merely asserts with his loudest voice that his middlings are not middlings. a little man can see that he must not cry stinking fish against himself; but it requires a great man to understand that in order to abstain effectually from so suicidal a proclamation, he must declare with all the voice of his lungs, that his fish are that moment hardly out of the ocean. "it's the poetry of euphemism," robinson once said to poppins;--but he might as well have talked greek to him. robinson often complained that no one understood him; but he forgot that it is the fate of great men generally to work alone, and to be not comprehended. the higher a man raises his head, the more necessary is it that he should learn to lean only on his own strength, and to walk his path without even the assistance of sympathy. the greedy jones had friends. poppins with his easy epicurean laisser aller,--he had friends. the decent brown, who would so fain be comfortable, had friends. but for robinson, there was no one on whose shoulder he could rest his head, and from whose heart and voice he could receive sympathy and encouragement. from one congenial soul,--from one soul that he had hoped to find congenial,--he did look for solace; but even here he was disappointed. it has been told that maryanne brown did at last consent to name the day. this occurred in may, and the day named was in august. robinson was very anxious to fix it at an earlier period, and the good-natured girl would have consented to arrange everything within a fortnight. "what's the use of shilly-shallying?" said she to her father. "if it is to be done, let it be done at once. i'm so knocked about among you, i hardly know where i am." but mr. brown would not consent. mr. brown was very feeble, but yet he was very obstinate. it would often seem that he was beaten away from his purpose, and yet he would hang on it with more tenacity than that of a stronger man. "town is empty in august, george, and then you can be spared for a run to margate for two or three days." "oh, we don't want any nonsense," said maryanne; "do we, george?" "all i want is your own self," said robinson. "then you won't mind going into lodgings for a few months," said brown. robinson would have put up with an attic, had she he loved consented to spread her bridal couch so humbly; but maryanne declared with resolution that she would not marry till she saw herself in possession of the rooms over the shop. "there'll be room for us all for awhile," said old brown. "i think we might manage," said george. "i know a trick worth two of that," said the lady. "who's to make pa go when once we begin in that way? as i mean to end, so i'll begin. and as for you, george, there's no end to your softness. you're that green, that the very cows would eat you." was it not well said by mr. robinson in his preface to these memoirs, that the poor old commercial lear, whose name stood at the head of the firm, was cursed with a goneril,--and with a regan? but nothing would induce mr. brown to leave his home, or to say that he would leave his home, before the middle of august, and thus the happy day was postponed till that time. "there's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip," said poppins, when he was told. "do you take care that she and polly ain't off to aldersgate street together." "poppins, i wouldn't be cursed with your ideas of human nature,--not for a free use of all the stations on the north western. go to aldersgate street now that she is my affianced bride!" "that's gammon," said poppins. "when once she's married she'll go straight enough. i believe that of her, for she knows which side her bread's buttered. but till the splice is made she's a right to please herself; that's the way she looks at it." "and will it not please her to become mine?" "it's about the same with 'em all," continued poppins. "my polly would have been at hong kong with the buffs by this time, if i hadn't knocked the daylight out of that sergeant." and poppins, from the tone in which he spoke of his own deeds, seemed to look back upon his feat of valour with less satisfaction than it had given him at the moment. polly was his own certainly; but the comfort of his small menage was somewhat disturbed by his increasing family. but to return. robinson, as we have said, looked in vain to his future partner in life for a full appreciation of his own views as to commerce. "it's all very well, i daresay," said she; "but one should feel one's way." "when you launch your ship into the sea," he replied, "you do not want to feel your way. you know that the waves will bear her up, and you send her forth boldly. as wood will float upon water, so will commerce float on the ocean streams of advertisement." "but if you ran aground in the mud, where are you then? do you take care, george, or your boat 'll be water-logged." it was during some of these conversations that delilah cut another lock of hair from samson's head, and induced him to confess that he had obtained that sum of five hundred pounds from her father, and spent it among those who prepared for him his advertisements. "no!" said she, jumping up from her seat. "then he had it after all?" "yes; he certainly had it." "well, that passes. and after all he said!" a glimmering of the truth struck coldly upon robinson's heart. she had endeavoured to get from her father this sum and had failed. she had failed, and the old man had sworn to her that he had it not. but for what purpose had she so eagerly demanded it? "maryanne," he said, "if you love another more fondly than you love me--" "don't bother about love, george, now. and so you got it out of him and sent it all flying after the rest. i didn't think you were that powerful." "the money, maryanne, belonged to the firm." "gracious knows who it belongs to now. but, laws;--when i think of all that he said, it's quite dreadful. one can't believe a word that comes out of his mouth." robinson also thought that it was quite dreadful when he reflected on all that she must have said before she had given up the task as helpless. then, too, an idea came upon him of what he might have to endure when he and she should be one bone and one flesh. how charming was she to the eyes! how luxuriously attractive, when in her softer moments she would laugh, and smile, and joke at the winged hours as they passed! but already was he almost afraid of her voice, and already did he dread the fiercer glances of her eyes. was he wise in this that he was doing? had he not one bride in commerce, a bride that would never scold; and would it not be well for him to trust his happiness to her alone? so he argued within his own breast. but nevertheless, love was still the lord of all. "and the money's all gone?" said maryanne. "indeed it is. would i had as many thousands to send after it." "it was like your folly, george, not to keep a little of it by you, knowing how comfortable it would have been for us at the beginning." "but, my darling, it belonged to the firm." "the firm! arn't they all helping themselves hand over hand, except you? there was sarah jane in the shop behind the counter all yesterday afternoon. now, i tell you what it is; if she's to come in i won't stand it. she's not there for nothing, and she with children at home. no wonder she can keep a nursemaid, if that's where she spends her time. if you would go down more into the shop, george, and write less of them little books in verse, it would be better for us all." and so the time passed on towards august, and the fifteenth of that month still remained fixed as the happy day. robinson spent some portion of this time in establishing a method of advertisement, which he flattered himself was altogether new; but it must be admitted in these pages that his means for carrying it out were not sufficient. in accordance with this project it would have been necessary to secure the co-operation of all the tailors' foremen in london, and this could not be done without a douceur to the men. his idea was, that for a period of a month in the heart of the london season, no new coat should be sent home to any gentleman without containing in the pocket one of those alluring little silver books, put out by brown, jones, and robinson. "the thing is, to get them opened and looked at," said robinson. "now, i put it to you, poppins, whether you wouldn't open a book like that if you found that somebody had put it into your tail coat." "well, i should open it." "you would be more or less than mortal did you not? if it's thrown into your cab, you throw it out. if a man hands it to you in the street, you drop it. if it comes by post, you throw it into the waste-paper basket. but i'll defy the sternest or the idlest man not to open the leaves of such a work as that when he first takes it out of his new dress-coat. surprise will make him do so. why should his tailor send him the book of b., j., and r.? there must be something in it. the name of b., j., and r., becomes fixed in his memory, and then the work is done. if the tailors had been true to me, i might have defied the world." but the tailors were not true to him. during all this time nothing was heard of brisket. it could not be doubted that brisket, busy among his bullocks in aldersgate street, knew well what was passing among the browns in bishopsgate street. once or twice it occurred to robinson that the young women, maryanne namely and mrs. poppins, expected some intervention from the butcher. was it possible that mr. brisket might be expected to entertain less mercenary ideas when he found that his prize was really to be carried off by another? but whatever may have been the expectations of the ladies, brisket made no sign. he hadn't seen his way, and therefore he had retired from the path of love. but brisket, even though he did not see his way, was open to female seduction. why was it, that at this eventful period of robinson's existence mrs. poppins should have turned against him? why his old friend, polly twizzle, should have gone over to his rival, robinson never knew. it may have been because, in his humble way, poppins himself stood firmly by his friend; for such often is the nature of women. be that as it may, mrs. poppins, who is now again his fast friend, was then his enemy. "we shall have to go to this wedding of george's," poppins said to his wife, when the first week in august had already passed. "i suppose old pikes 'ill give me a morning." old pikes was a partner in the house to which mr. poppins was attached. "i shan't buy my bonnet yet awhile," said mrs. poppins. "and why not, polly?" "for reasons that i know of." "but what reasons?" "you men are always half blind, and t'other half stupid. don't you see that she's not going to have him?" "she must be pretty sharp changing her mind, then. here's tuesday already, and next tuesday is to be the day." "then it won't be next tuesday; nor yet any tuesday this month. brisket's after her again." "i don't believe it, polly." "then disbelieve it. i was with him yesterday, and i'll tell you who was there before me;--only don't you go to robinson and say i said so." "if i can't make sport, i shan't spoil none," said poppins. "well, jones was there. jones was with brisket, and jones told him that if he'd come forward now he should have a hundred down, and a promise from the firm for the rest of it." "then jones is a scoundrel." "i don't know about that," said mrs. poppins. "maryanne is his wife's sister, and he's bound to do the best he can by her. brisket is a deal steadier man than georgy robinson, and won't have to look for his bread so soon, i'm thinking." "he hasn't half the brains," said poppins. "brains is like soft words; they won't butter no parsnips." "and you've been with brisket?" said the husband. "yes; why not? brisket and i was always friends. i'm not going to quarrel with brisket because georgy robinson is afraid of him. i knew how it would be with robinson when he didn't stand up to brisket that night at the hall of harmony. what's a man worth if he won't stand up for his young woman? if you hadn't stood up for me i wouldn't have had you." and so ended that conversation. "a hundred pounds down?" said brisket to jones the next day. "yes, and our bill for the remainder." "the cash on the nail." "paid into your hand," said jones. "i think i should see my way," said brisket; "at any rate i'll come up on saturday." "much better say to-morrow, or friday." "can't. it's little gogham fair on friday; and i always kills on thursday." "saturday will be very late." "there'll be time enough if you've got the money ready. you've spoken to old brown, i suppose. i'll be up as soon after six on saturday evening as i can come. if maryanne wants to see me, she'll find me here. it won't be the first time." thus was it that among his enemies the happiness of robinson's life was destroyed. against brisket he breathes not a word. the course was open to both of them; and if brisket was the best horse, why, let him win! but in what words would it be right to depict the conduct of jones? chapter xvii. a tea-party in bishopsgate street. if it shall appear to those who read these memoirs that there was much in the conduct of mr. brown which deserves censure, let them also remember how much there was in his position which demands pity. in this short narrative it has been our purpose to set forth the commercial doings of the house of brown, jones, and robinson, rather than the domestic life of the partners, and, therefore, it has been impossible to tell of all the trials through which mr. brown passed with his children. but those trials were very severe, and if mr. brown was on certain points untrue to the young partner who trusted him, allowances for such untruth must be made. he was untrue; but there is one man, who, looking back upon his conduct, knows how to forgive it. the scenes upstairs at magenta house during that first week in august had been very terrible. mr. brown, in his anxiety to see his daughter settled, had undoubtedly pledged himself to abandon the rooms in which he lived, and to take lodgings elsewhere. to this promised self-sacrifice maryanne was resolved to keep him bound; and when some hesitation appeared on his part, she swore to him that nothing should induce her to become mrs. robinson till he had packed his things and was gone. mr. brown had a heart to feel, and at this moment he could have told how much sharper than a serpent's tooth is a child's ingratitude! but he would have gone; he would have left the house, although he had begun to comprehend that in leaving it he must probably lose much of his authority over the money taken in the shop; he would, however, have done so, had not mrs. jones come down upon him with the whole force of her tongue, and the full violence of her malice. when robinson should have become one with maryanne brown, and should also have become the resident partner, then would the influence of mrs. jones in that establishment have been brought to a speedy close. the reader shall not be troubled with those frightful quarrels in which each of the family was pitted against the others. sarah jane declared to her father, in terms which no child should have used to her parent, that he must be an idiot and doting if he allowed his youngest daughter and her lover to oust him from his house and from all share in the management of the business. brown then appealed piteously to maryanne, and begged that he might be allowed to occupy a small closet as his bed-room. but maryanne was inexorable. he had undertaken to go, and unless he did go she would never omit to din into his ears this breach of his direct promise to her. maryanne became almost great in her anger, as with voice raised so as to drown her sister's weaker tones, she poured forth her own story of her own wrongs. "it has been so from the beginning," she said. "when i first knew brisket, it was not for any love i had for the man, but because mother took him up. mother promised him money; and then i said i'd marry him,--not because i cared for him, but because he was respectable and all right. and then mother hadn't the money when the pinch came, and, of course, brisket wasn't going to be put upon;--why should he? so i took up with robinson, and you knew it, father." "i did, maryanne; i did." "of course you did. i wasn't going to make a fool of myself for no man. i have got myself to look to; and if i don't do it myself, they who is about me won't do it for me." "your old father would do anything for you." "father, i hate words! what i want is deeds. well, then;--robinson came here and was your partner, and meanwhile i thought it was all right. and who was it interfered? why, you did. when brisket went to you, you promised him the money: and then he went and upset robinson. and we had that supper in smithfield, and robinson was off, and i was to be mrs. brisket out of hand. but then, again, the money wasn't there." "i couldn't make the money, maryanne." "father, it's a shame for you to tell such falsehoods before your own daughters." "oh, maryanne! you wicked girl!" said sarah jane. "if i'm wicked, there's two of us so, sarah jane! you had the money, and you gave it to robinson for them notices of his. i know all about it now! and then what could you expect of brisket? of course he was off. there was no fal-lal about love, and all that, with him. he wanted a woman to look after his house; but he wanted something with her. and i wanted a roof over my head;--which i'm not likely to have, the way you're going on." "while i have a morsel, you shall have half." "and when you haven't a morsel, how will it be then? of course when i saw all this, i felt myself put upon. there was jones getting his money out of the shop!" "well, miss," said sarah jane; "and isn't he a partner?" "you ain't a partner, and i don't know what business you have there. but every one was helping themselves except me. i was going to the wall. i have always been going to the wall. well; when brisket was off, i took up with robinson again. i always liked him the best, only i never thought of my own likings. i wasn't that selfish. i took up with robinson again; but i wasn't going to be any man's wife, if he couldn't put a roof over my head. well, father, you know what was said then, and now you're going back from it." "i suppose you'd better have mr. brisket," said the old man, after a pause. "will you give brisket those five hundred pounds?" and then those embassies to aldersgate street were made by mrs. poppins and by mr. jones. during this time maryanne, having spoken her mind freely, remained silent and sullen. that her father would not go out on the appointed day, she knew. that she would not marry robinson unless he did, she knew also. she did not like brisket; but, as she had said, she was not so selfish as to let that stand in the way. if it was to be brisket, let it be brisket. only let something be done. only let something be done. it certainly was not a matter of surprise that she should demand so much. it must be acknowledged that all connected with the firm and family began to feel that the house of brown, jones, and robinson, had not succeeded in establishing itself on a sound basis. mr. brown was despondent, and often unwell. the jones's were actuated by no ambition to raise themselves to the position of british merchants, but by a greedy desire to get what little might be gotten in the scramble. robinson still kept his shoulder to the collar, but he did so with but little hope. he had made a fatal mistake in leaguing himself with uncongenial partners, and began to feel that this mistake must be expiated by the ruin of his present venture. under such circumstances maryanne brown was not unreasonable in desiring that something should be done. she had now given a tacit consent to that plan for bringing back brisket, and consequently her brother-in-law went at once to work. it must be acknowledged that the time was short. when brisket, with such easy indifference, postponed his visit to bishopsgate street till the saturday, giving to gogham market and the slaughtering of his beasts a preference to the renewal of his love, he regarded the task before him as a light one. but it must be supposed that it was no light task to miss brown. on the tuesday following that saturday, she would, if she were true to her word, join herself in wedlock to george robinson. she now purposed to be untrue to her word; but it must be presumed that she had some misgivings at the heart when she thought of the task before her. on the thursday and the friday she managed to avoid robinson. on the saturday morning they met in her father's room for a minute, and when he attempted to exercise a privilege to which his near approaching nuptials certainly entitled him, she repulsed him sullenly: "oh, come; none of that." "i shall require the more on tuesday," he replied, with his ordinary good-humour. she spoke nothing further to him then, but left the room and went away to her friend mrs. poppins. robinson belonged to a political debating club, which met on every saturday evening at the "goose and gridiron" in one of the lanes behind the church in fleet street. it was, therefore, considered that the new compact might be made in bishopsgate street on that evening without any danger of interruption from him. but at the hour of dinner on that day, a word was whispered into his ear by poppins. "i don't suppose you care about it," said he, "but there's going to be some sort of doing at the old man's this evening." "what doing?" "it's all right, i suppose; but brisket is going to be there. it's just a farewell call, i suppose." "brisket with my love!" said robinson. "then will i be there also." "don't forget that you've got to chaw up old crowdy on the paper question. what will the geese do if you're not there?" the club in question was ordinarily called the goose club, and the members were in common parlance called "the geese." "i will be there also," said robinson. "but if i should be late, you will tell the geese why it is so." "they all know you are going to be married," said poppins. and then they parted. the hour at which the parliament of the geese assembled was, as a rule, a quarter before eight in the evening, so that the debate might absolutely begin at eight. seven was the hour for tea in bishopsgate street, but on the present occasion brisket was asked for half-past seven, so that robinson's absence might be counted on as a certainty. at half-past seven to the moment brisket was there, and the greeting between him and maryanne was not of a passionate nature. "well, old girl, here i am again," he said, as he swung his burly body into the room. "i see you," she said, as she half reluctantly gave him her hand. "but remember, it wasn't me who sent for you. i'd just as lief you stayed away." and then they went to business. both jones and his wife were there; and it may perhaps be said, that if maryanne brown had any sincerity of feeling at her heart, it was one of hatred for her brother-in-law. but now, this new change in her fortunes was being brought about by his interference, and he was, as it were, acting as her guardian. this was very bitter to her, and she sat on one side in sullen silence, and to all appearance paid no heed to what was being said. the minds of them all were so intent on the business part of the transaction that the banquet was allowed to remain untouched till all the preliminaries were settled. there was the tea left to draw till it should be as bitter as maryanne's temper, and the sally luns were becoming as cold as sarah jane's heart. mr. brown did, in some half-bashful manner, make an attempt at performing the duties of a host. "my dears, won't mr. brisket have his dish of tea now it's here?" but "my dears" were deaf to the hint. maryanne still sat sullen in the corner, and sarah jane stood bolt upright, with ears erect, ready to listen, ready to speak, ready to interfere with violence should the moment come when anything was to be gained on her side by doing so. they went to the work in hand, with very little of the preamble of courtesy. yes; brisket would marry her on the terms proposed by jones. he could see his way if he had a hundred pounds down, and the bill of the firm at three months for the remaining sum. "not three months, brisket; six months," suggested brown. but in this matter brisket was quite firm, and mr. brown gave way. but, as all of them knew, the heat of the battle would concern the names which were to be written on the bill. brisket demanded that the bill should be from the firm. jones held that as a majority of the firm were willing that this should be so, mr. brown was legally entitled to make the bill payable at the bank out of the funds of the house. in this absurd opinion he was supported violently by his wife. brisket, of course, gave no opinion on the subject. it was not for him to interfere among the partners. all he said was, that the bill of the firm had been promised to him, and that he shouldn't see his way with anything else. mr. brown hesitated,--pondering painfully over the deed he was called upon to do. he knew that he was being asked to rob the man he loved;--but he knew also, that if he did not do so, he must go forth from his home. and then, when he might be in want of comfort, the child for whose sake he should do so would turn from him without love or pity. "jones and me would do it together," said mr. brown. "jones won't do nothing of the kind," said jones's careful wife. "it would be no good if he did," said brisket. "and, i'll tell you what it is, i'm not going to be made a fool of; i must know how it's to be at once, or i'm off." and he put out his hand as though to take up his hat. "what fools you are!" said maryanne, speaking from her chair in the corner. "there's not one of you knows george robinson. ask him to give his name to the bill, and he'll do it instantly." "who is it wants the name of george robinson?" said the voice of that injured man, as at the moment he entered the room. "george robinson is here." and then he looked round upon the assembled councillors, and his eyes rested at last with mingled scorn and sorrow upon the face of maryanne brown;--with mingled scorn and sorrow, but not with anger. "george robinson is here; who wants his name?--and why?" "will you take a cup of tea, george?" said mr. brown, as soon as he was able to overcome his first dismay. "maryanne," said robinson, "why is that man here?" and he pointed to brisket. "ask them," said maryanne, and she turned her face away from him, in towards the wall. "mr. brown, why is he here? why is your daughter's former lover here on the eve of her marriage with me?" "i will answer that question, if you please," said jones, stepping up. "you!" and robinson, looking at him from head to foot, silenced him with his look. "you answer me! from you i will take no answer in this matter. with you i will hold no parley on this subject. i have spoken to two whom i loved, and they have given me no reply. there is one here whom i do not love and he shall answer me. mr. brisket, though i have not loved you, i have believed you to be an honest man. why are you here?" "to see if we can agree about my marrying that young woman," said brisket, nodding at her with his head, while he still kept his hands in his trousers' pockets. "ah! is it so? there she is, mr. brisket; and now, for the third time, i shall go out from your presence, renouncing her charms in your favour. when first i did so at the dancing-room, i was afraid of your brute strength, because the crowd was looking on and i knew you could carry out your unmanly threat. and when i wrote that paper the second time, you had again threatened me, and i was again afraid. my heart was high on other matters, and why should i have sacrificed myself? now i renounce her again; but i am not afraid,--for my heart is high on nothing." "george, george!" said maryanne, jumping from her seat. "leave him, leave him, and i'll promise--" and then she seized hold of his arm. for the moment some touch of a woman's feeling had reached her heart. at that instant she perhaps recognized,--if only for the instant, that true love is worth more than comfort, worth more than well assured rations of bread and meat, and a secure roof. for that once she felt rather than understood that an honest heart is better than a strong arm. but it was too late. [illustration: robinson defies his rival.] "no," said he, "i'll have no promise from you;--your words are false. i've humbled myself as the dust beneath your feet, because i loved you,--and, therefore, you have treated me as the dust. the man who will crawl to a woman will ever be so treated." "you are about right there, old fellow," said brisket. "leave me, i say." for still she held his arm. she still held his arm, for she saw by his eye what he intended, though no one else had seen. "you have twitted me with my cowardice," he said; "but you shall see that i am no coward. he is the coward!" and he pointed with his finger to brisket. "he is the coward, for he will undergo no risk." and then, without further notice, george robinson flew at the butcher's throat. it was very clear that brisket himself had suspected no such attack, for till the moment at which he felt robinson's fingers about his cravat, he had still stood with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. he was very strong, and when his thoughts were well made up to the idea of a fight, could in his own way be quick enough with his fists; but otherwise he was slow in action, nor was he in any way passionate. "halloo," he said, striving to extricate himself, and hardly able to articulate, as the handkerchief tightened itself about his neck. "ugh-h-h." and getting his arm round robinson's ribs he tried to squeeze his assailant till he should drop his hold. "i will have his tongue from his mouth," shouted robinson, and as he spoke, he gave another twist to the handkerchief. "oh, laws," said mrs. jones. "the poor man will be choked," and she laid hold of the tail of robinson's coat, pulling at it with all her strength. "don't, don't," said mr. brown. "george, george, you shall have her; indeed you shall,--only leave him." maryanne the while looked on, as ladies of yore did look on when knights slaughtered each other for their smiles. and perhaps of yore the hearts of those who did look on were as cold and callous as was hers. for one moment of enthusiasm she had thought she loved, but now again she was indifferent. it might be settled as well this way as any other. at length brisket succeeded in actually forcing his weak assailant from him, mrs. jones the while lending him considerable assistance; and then he raised his heavy fist. robinson was there opposite to him, helpless and exhausted, just within his reach; and he raised his heavy fist to strike him down. he raised his fist, and then he let it fall. "no," said he; "i'm blowed if i'll hit you. you're better stuff than i thought you was. and now look here, young man; there she is. if she'll say that she'll have you, i'll walk out, and i won't come across you or she any more." maryanne, when she heard this, raised her face and looked steadily at robinson. if, however, she had any hope, that hope was fruitless. "i have renounced her twice," said he, "and now i renounce her again. it is not now from fear. mr. brown, you have my authority for accepting that bill in the name of the firm." then he left the room and went forth into the street. chapter xviii. an evening at the "goose and gridiron." those political debaters who met together weekly at the "goose and gridiron" were certainly open to the insinuation that they copied the practices of another debating society, which held its sittings farther west. in some respects they did so, and were perhaps even servile in their imitation. they divided themselves into parties, of which each had an ostensible leader. but then there was always some ambitious but hardly trustworthy member who endeavoured to gather round him a third party which might become dominant by trimming between the other two; and he again would find the ground cut from beneath his feet by new aspirants. the members never called each other by their own names, but addressed each always as "the worthy goose," speaking at such moments with the utmost courtesy. this would still be done, though the speaker were using all his energy to show that that other goose was in every sense unworthy. they had a perpetual chairman, for whom they affected the most unbounded respect. he was generally called "the grand," his full title being "the most worthy grand goose;" and members on their legs, when they wished to address the meeting with special eloquence, and were about to speak words which they thought peculiarly fit for public attention, would generally begin by thus invoking him. "most worthy grand," they would say. but this when done by others than well accustomed speakers, was considered as a work either of arrogance or of ignorance. this great officer was much loved among them, and familiarly he was called "my grand." though there was an immensity of talk at these meetings, men speaking sometimes by the half hour whose silence the club would have been willing to purchase almost at any price, there were not above four established orators. there were four orators, of each of whom it was said that he copied the manner and tone of some great speaker in that other society. there was our friend robinson, who in the elegance of his words, and the brilliancy of his ideas, far surpassed any other goose. his words were irresistible, and his power in that assembly unequalled. but yet, as many said, it was power working only for evil. the liberal party to which he had joined himself did not dare to stand without him; but yet, if the whispers that got abroad were true, they would only too gladly have dispensed with him. he was terrible as a friend; but then he could be more terrible as a foe. then there was crowdy,--crowdy, whose high-flown ideas hardly tallied with the stern realities of his life. crowdy was the leader of those who had once held firmly by protection. crowdy had been staunchly true to his party since he had a party, though it had been said of him that the adventures of crowdy in search of a party had been very long and very various. there had been no goose with a bitterer tongue than crowdy; but now in these days a spirit of quiescence had fallen on him; and though he spoke as often as ever, he did not wield so deadly a tomahawk. then there was the burly buggins, than whom no goose had a more fluent use of his vernacular. he was not polished as robinson, nor had he ever possessed the exquisite keenness of crowdy. but in speaking he always hit the nail on the head, and carried his hearers with him by the energy and perspicuity of his argument. but by degrees the world of the goose and gridiron had learned that buggins talked of things which he did not understand, and which he had not studied. his facts would not bear the light. words fell from his mouth sweeter than honey; but sweet as they were they were of no avail. it was pleasant to hear buggins talk, but men knew that it was useless. but perhaps the most remarkable goose in that assembly, as decidedly he was the most popular, was old pan. he traced his birth to the mighty blood of the great pancabinets, whose noble name he still proudly bore. every one liked old pancabinet, and though he did not now possess, and never had possessed, those grand oratorical powers which distinguished so highly the worthy geese above mentioned, no goose ever rose upon his legs more sure of respectful attention. the sway which he bore in that assembly was very wonderful, for he was an old man, and there were there divers geese of unruly spirit. lately he had associated himself much with our friend robinson, for which many blamed him. but old pancabinet generally knew what he was about, and having recognized the tremendous power of the young merchant from bishopsgate street, was full sure that he could get on better with him than he could against him. it was pleasant to see "my grand" as he sat in his big arm-chair, with his beer before him, and his long pipe in his mouth. a benign smile was ever on his face, and yet he showed himself plainly conscious that authority lived in his slightest word, and that he had but to nod to be obeyed. that pipe was constant in his hand, and was the weapon with which he signified his approbation of the speakers. when any great orator would arise and address him as most worthy grand, he would lay his pipe for an instant on the table, and, crossing his hands on his ample waistcoat, would bow serenely to the goose on his legs. then, not allowing the spark to be extinguished on his tobacco, he would resume the clay, and spread out over his head and shoulders a long soft cloud of odorous smoke. but when any upstart so addressed him,--any goose not entitled by character to use the sonorous phrase,--he would still retain his pipe, and simply wink his eye. it was said that this distinction quite equalled the difference between big type and little. perhaps the qualification which was most valued among the geese, and most specially valued by the worthy grand, was a knowledge of the forms of the room, as it was called. these rules or formulas, which had probably been gradually invented for the complication of things which had once been too simple, were so numerous that no goose could remember them all who was not very constant in his attention, and endowed with an accurate memory. and in this respect they were no doubt useful;--that when young and unskilled geese tried to monopolize the attention of the room, they would be constantly checked and snubbed, and at last subdued and silenced, by some reference to a forgotten form. no goose could hope to get through a lengthy speech without such interruption till he had made the forms of the room a long and painful study. on the evening in question,--that same evening on which robinson had endeavoured to tear out the tongue of brisket,--the geese were assembled before eight o'clock. a motion that had been made elsewhere for the repeal of the paper duties was to be discussed. it was known that the minds of many geese were violently set against a measure which they presumed to be most deleterious to the country; but old pan, under the rigorous instigation of robinson, had given in his adhesion, and was prepared to vote for the measure,--and to talk for it also, should there be absolute necessity. buggins also was on the same side,--for buggins was by trade a radical. but it was felt by all that the debate would be nothing unless robinson should be there to "chaw up" crowdy, as had been intimated to our friend by that worthy goose the young poppins. but at eight o'clock and at a quarter past eight robinson was not there. crowdy, not wishing to lacerate his foe till that foe should be there to feel the wounds, sat silent in his usual seat. pancabinet, who understood well the beauty of silence, would not begin the fray. buggins was ever ready to talk, but he was cunning enough to know that a future opportunity might be more valuable than the present one. then up jumped poppins. now poppins was no orator, but he felt that as the friend of robinson, he was bound to address the meeting on the present occasion. there were circumstances which should be explained. "most worthy grand,--" he began, starting suddenly to his legs; whereupon the worthy grand slightly drew back his head, still holding his pipe between his lips, and winked at the unhappy poppins. "as the friend of the absent robinson--" he went on; but he was at once interrupted by loud cries of "order" from every side of the room. and, worse than that, the grand frowned at him. there was no rule more established than that which forbade the name of any goose to be mentioned. "i beg the grand's pardon," continued poppins; "i mean the absent worthy goose. as his friend i rise to say a few words. i know he feels the greatest interest about this measure, which has been brought forward in the house of c--" but again he was interrupted. "order, order, order," was shouted at him by vociferous geese on every side, and the grand frowned at him twice. when the grand had frowned at a member three times, that member was silenced for the night. in this matter the assembly at the "goose and gridiron" had not copied their rule from any other body. but it is worthy of consideration whether some other body might not do well to copy theirs. "i beg the grand's pardon again," said the unhappy poppins; "but i meant in another place." hereupon a worthy goose got up and suggested that their numbers should be counted. now there was a rule that no debate could be continued unless a dozen geese were present; and a debate once closed, was closed for that night. when such a hint was given to the grand, it became the grand's duty to count his geese, and in order to effect this in accordance with the constitution of the assembly, it was necessary that the servants should withdraw. strangers also were sometimes present, and at such moments they were politely asked to retire. when the suggestion was made, the suggestor no doubt knew that the requisite number was not there, but it usually happened on such occasions that some hangers-on were at hand to replenish the room. a goose or two might be eating bread and cheese in the little parlour,--for food could not be introduced into the debating-room; and a few of the younger geese might often be found amusing themselves with the young lady at the bar. word would be passed to them that the grand was about to count, and indeed they would hear the tap of his tobacco-stopper on the table. then there would be a rush among these hungry and amorous geese, and so the number would be made up. that they called making a flock. when the suggestion was given on the present occasion the grand put down his tankard from his hand and proceeded to the performance of his duty. turning the mouthpiece of his long pipe-clay out from him, he pointed it slowly to one after another, counting them as he so pointed. first he counted up old pancabinet, and a slight twinkle might be seen in the eyes of the two old men as he did so. then, turning his pipe round the room, he pointed at them all, and it was found that there were fifteen present. "there is a flock, and the discreet and worthy goose is in possession of the room," he said, bowing to poppins. and poppins again began his speech. it was but a blundering affair, as was too often the case with the speeches made there; and then when poppins sat down, the great crowdy rose slowly to his legs. we will not attempt to give the speech of this eloquent goose at length, for the great crowdy often made long speeches. it may suffice to say that having a good cause he made the best of it, and that he pitched into our poor robinson most unmercifully, always declaring as he did so that as his friend the enterprising and worthy goose was absent, his own mouth was effectually closed. it may be noted here that whenever a goose was in commerce the epithet "enterprising" was always used when he was mentioned; and if he held or ever had held a service of trust, as poppins did, he was called the "discreet" goose. and then, just as crowdy finished his speech, the swinging door of the room was opened, and robinson himself started up to his accustomed place. it was easy to see that both the inner man had been disturbed and the outer. his hair and clothes had been ruffled in the embrace with brisket, and his heart had been ruffled in its encounter with maryanne. he had come straight from bishopsgate street to the "goose and gridiron;" and now when he walked up to his seat, all the geese remained silent waiting for him to declare himself. "most worthy grand," he began; and immediately the long pipe was laid upon the table and the hands of the grand were crossed upon his bosom. "a circumstance has occurred to-night, which unfits me for these debates." "no, no, no," was shouted on one side; and "hear, hear, hear," on the other; during which the grand again bowed and then resumed his pipe. "if the chamber will allow me to wander away from paper for a moment, and to open the sores of a bleeding heart--" "question, question," was then called by a jealous voice. "the enterprising and worthy goose is perfectly in order," said the burly buggins. "many a good heart will bleed before long if this debate is to be choked and smothered by the cackle of the incapable." "i submit that the question before the chamber is the repeal of the paper duties," said the jealous voice, "and not the bleeding heart of the enterprising and worthy goose." "the question before the cabinet is," said my grand, "that the chamber considers that two millions a-year will be lost for ever by the repeal of the paper duties; but if the enterprising and worthy goose have any personal remarks to make bearing on that subject, he will be in order." "it is a matter of privilege," suggested poppins. "a personal explanation is always allowed," said robinson, indignantly; "nor did i think that any member of this chamber would have had the baseness to stop my voice when--" "order--order--order!" "i may have been wrong to say baseness in this chamber, however base the worthy goose may be; and, therefore, with permission of our worthy grand, i will substitute 'hardihood.'" whereupon the worthy grand again bowed. but still there were cries of question from the side of the room opposite to that on which robinson sat. then old pancabinet rose from his seat, and all voices were hushed. "if i may be allowed to make a suggestion," said he, "i would say that the enterprising and worthy goose should be heard on a matter personal to himself. it may very probably be that the privileges of this chamber are concerned; and i think i may say that any worthy goose speaking on matters affecting privilege in this chamber is always heard with that attention which the interest of the subject demands." after that there was no further interruption, and robinson was allowed to open his bleeding heart. "most worthy grand," he again began, and again the pipe was laid down, for robinson was much honoured. "i come here hot from a scene of domestic woe, which has robbed me of all political discretion, and made the paper duty to me an inscrutable mystery. the worthy geese here assembled see before them a man who has been terribly injured; one in whose mangled breast fate has fixed her sharpest dagger, and poisoned the blade before she fixed it." "no--no--no." "hear--hear--hear." "yes, my grand; she poisoned the blade before she fixed it. on tuesday next i had hoped--" and here his voice became inexpressibly soft and tender, "on tuesday next i had hoped to become one bone and one flesh with a fair girl whom i have loved for months;--fair indeed to the outer eye, as flesh and form can make her; but ah! how hideously foul within. and i had hoped on this day se'nnight to have received the congratulations of this chamber. i need not say that it would have been the proudest moment of my life. but, my grand, that has all passed away. her conduct has been the conduct of a harpy. she is a regan. she is false, heartless, and cruel; and this night i have renounced her." hereupon a small goose, very venomous, but vehemently attached to the privileges of his chamber, gave notice of a motion that that false woman should be brought before the most worthy grand, and heard at the bar of the "goose and gridiron." but another worthy goose showed that the enterprising and worthy goose had by his own showing renounced the lady himself, and that, therefore, there could have been no breach of the privilege of the chamber. the notice of motion was then withdrawn. "o woman!" continued robinson, "how terrible is thy witchcraft, and how powerful are thy charms! thou spakest, and adam fell. thou sangest, and samson's strength was gone. the head of the last of the prophets was the reward of thy meretricious feet. 'twas thy damnable eloquence that murdered the noble duncan. 'twas thy lascivious beauty that urged the slaughter of the noble dane. as were adam and samson, so am i. as were macbeth and the foul king in the play, so is my rival brisket. most worthy grand, this chamber must hold me excused if i decline to-night to enter upon the subject of the paper duties." then robinson left the chamber, and the discussion was immediately adjourned to that day se'nnight. chapter xix. george robinson's marriage. thus ended george robinson's dream of love. never again will he attempt that phase of life. beauty to him in future shall be a thing on which the eye may rest with satisfaction, as it may on the sculptor's chiselled marble, or on the varied landscape. it shall be a thing to look at,--possibly to possess. but for the future george robinson's heart shall be his own. george robinson is now wedded, and he will admit of no second wife. on that same tuesday which was to have seen him made the legal master of maryanne's charms, he vowed to himself that commerce should be his bride; and, as in the dead of night he stood on the top of the hill of ludgate, he himself, as high-priest, performed the ceremony. "yes," said he on that occasion, "o goddess, here i devote myself to thy embraces, to thine and thine only. to live for thee shall satisfy both my heart and my ambition. if thou wilt be kind, no softer loveliness shall be desired by me. george robinson has never been untrue to his vows, nor shalt thou, o my chosen one, find him so now. for thee will i labour, straining every nerve to satisfy thy wishes. woman shall henceforward be to me a doll for the adornment of whose back it will be my business to sell costly ornaments. in no other light will i regard the loveliness of her form. o sweet commerce, teach me thy lessons! let me ever buy in the cheapest market and sell in the dearest. let me know thy hidden ways, and if it be that i am destined for future greatness, and may choose the path by which it shall be reached, it is not great wealth at which i chiefly aim. let it rather be said of me that i taught the modern world of trade the science of advertisement." thus did he address his new celestial bride, and as he spoke a passing cloud rolled itself away from before the moon's face, and the great luminary of the night shone down upon his upturned face. "i accept the omen," said robinson, with lightened heart; and from that moment his great hopes never again altogether failed him, though he was doomed to pass through scorching fires of commercial disappointment. but it must not be supposed that he was able to throw off his passion for maryanne brown without a great inward struggle. up to that moment, in which he found brisket in mr. brown's room, and, as he stood for a moment on the landing-place, heard that inquiry made as to the use of his name, he had believed that maryanne would at last be true to him. poppins, indeed, had hinted his suspicions, but in the way of prophecy poppins was a cassandra. poppins saw a good deal with those twinkling eyes of his, but robinson did not trust to the wisdom of poppins. up to that hour he had believed in maryanne, and then in the short flash of an instant the truth had come upon him. she had again promised herself to brisket, if brisket would only take her. let brisket have her if he would. a minute's thought was sufficient to bring him to this resolve. but hours of scorching torment must be endured ere he could again enjoy the calm working of a sound mind in a sound body. it has been told how in the ecstasy of his misery he poured out the sorrows of his bleeding heart before his brethren at the debating club. they, with that ready sympathy which they always evince for the success or failure of any celebrated brother, at once adjourned themselves; and robinson walked out, followed at a distance by the faithful poppins. "george, old fellow!" said the latter, touching his friend on the shoulder, at the corner of bridge street. "leave me!" exclaimed robinson. "do not pry into sorrows which you cannot understand. i would be alone with myself this night." "you'd be better if you'd come to the 'mitre,' and smoke a pipe," said poppins. "pipe me no pipes," said robinson. "oh, come. you'd better quit that, and take it easy. after all, isn't it better so, than you should find her out when it was too late? there's many would be glad to have your chance." "man!" shouted robinson, and as he did so he turned round upon his friend and seized him by the collar of his coat. "i loved that woman. forty thousand poppinses could not, with all their quantity of love, make up my sum." "very likely not," said poppins. "would'st thou drink up esil? would'st thou eat a crocodile?" "heaven forbid," said poppins. "i'll do it. and if thou prate of mountains--" "but i didn't." "no, poppins, no. that's true. though i should be hamlet, yet art not thou laërtes. but poppins, thou art horatio." "i'm thomas poppins, old fellow; and i mean to stick to you till i see you safe in bed." "thou art horatio, for i've found thee honest. there are more things in heaven and earth, horatio, than are dreamed of in our philosophy." "come, old fellow." "poppins, give me that man that is not passion's slave, and i will wear him in my heart's core; ay, in my heart of hearts;--as i do thee." and then, falling on poppins' neck, george robinson embraced him. "you'll be better after that," said poppins. "come, let's have a little chat over a drop of something hot, and then we'll go to bed. i'll stand sammy." "something hot!" said robinson. "i tell you, poppins, that everything is hot to me. here, here i'm hot." and then he struck his breast. "and yet i'm very cold. 'tis cold to be alone; cold to have lost one's all. poppins, i've loved a harpy." "i believe you're about right there," said poppins. "a harpy! her nails will grow to talons, and on her feet are hoofs. within she is horn all over. there's not a drop of blood about her heart. oh, poppins!" "you're very well out of it, george. but yet i'm sorry for you. i am, indeed." "and now, good-night. this way is mine; yours there." "what! to the bridge? no; i'm blessed if you do; at any rate not alone." "poppins, tell me this; was hamlet mad, or did he feign so?" "faith, very likely the latter. many do that now. there are better rations in bedlam, than in any of the gaols;--let alone the workhouses." "ay; go mad for rations! there's no feigning there, poppins. the world is doing that. but, poppins, hamlet feigned; and so do i. let the wind blow as it may, i know a hawk from a handsaw. therefore you need not fear me." "i don't; but i won't let you go on to that bridge alone. you'll be singing that song of a suicide, till you're as low as low. come and drink a drop of something, and wish brisket joy with his wife." "i will," said robinson. and so the two went to the "mitre;" and there, comforted by the truth and honesty of his friend, robinson resolved that he would be weak no longer, but, returning at once to his work, would still struggle on to rescue the house of brown, jones, and robinson from that bourne of bankruptcy to which it was being hurried by the incompetency of his partners. the following day was sunday, and he rose at twelve with a racking headache. he had promised to take a chop with his friend at two, and at that hour he presented himself, with difficulty, at mrs. poppins's room. she was busy laying the cloth as he entered, but his friend was seated, half-dressed, unshorn, pale, and drooping, in an old arm-chair near the window. "it's a shame for you, george robinson," said the lady, as he entered, "so it is. look at that, for a father of a family,--coming home at three o'clock in the morning, and not able to make his way upstairs till i went down and fetched him!" "i told her that we were obliged to sit out the debate," said poppins, winking eagerly at his friend. "debate, indeed! a parcel of geese as you call yourself! only geese go to bed betimes, and never get beastly drunk as you was, poppins." "i took a bit of stewed cheese, which always disagrees with me." "stewed cheese never disagrees with you when i'm with you. i'll tell you what it is, poppins; if you ain't at home and in bed by eleven o'clock next saturday, i'll go down to the 'goose and gridiron,' and i'll have that old grandy out of his chair. that's what i will. i suppose you're so bad you can't eat a bit of nothing?" in answer to which, robinson said that he did not feel himself to be very hungry. "it's a blessing to maryanne to have lost you; that's what it is." "stop, woman," said robinson. "don't you woman me any womans. i know what stuff you're made off. it's a blessing for her not to have to do with a man who comes home roaring drunk, like a dead log, at three o'clock in the morning." "now, polly,--" began poor poppins. "oh, ah, polly! yes. polly's very well. but it was a bad day for polly when she first sat eyes on you. there was sergeant macnash never took a drop too much in his life. and you're worse than robinson ten times. he's got no children at home, and no wife. if he kills hisself with tobacco and gin, nobody will be much the worse. i know one who's got well out of it, anyway. and now, if either of you are able to eat, you can come." robinson did not much enjoy his afternoon, but the scenes, as they passed, served to reconcile him to that lonely life which must, henceforward, be his fate. what was there to enjoy in the fate of poppins, and what in the proposed happiness of brisket? could not a man be sufficient for himself alone? was there aught of pleasantness in that grinding tongue of his friend's wife? should not one's own flesh,--the bone of one's bone,--bind up one's bruises, pouring in balm with a gentle hand? poppins was wounded sorely about the head and stomach, and of what nature was the balm which his wife administered? he, robinson, had longed for married bliss, but now he longed no longer. on the following monday and tuesday he went silently about his work, speaking hardly a word to anybody. mr. brown greeted him with an apologetic sigh, and jones with a triumphant sneer; but he responded to neither of them. he once met maryanne in the passage, and bowed to her with a low salute, but he did not speak to her. he did not speak to her, but he saw the colour in her cheek, and watched her downcast eye. he was still weak as water, and had she clung to him even then, he would even then have forgiven her! but she passed on, and, as she left the house, she slammed the door behind her. a little incident happened on that day, which is mentioned to show that, even in his present frame of mind, robinson was able to take advantage of the smallest incident on behalf of his firm. a slight crowd had been collected round the door in the afternoon, for there had been a quarrel between mr. jones and one of the young men, in which loud words had reached the street, and a baby, which a woman held in her arms, had been somewhat pressed and hurt. as soon as the tidings reached robinson's ears he was instantly at his desk, and before the trifling accident was two hours passed, the following bill was in the printer's hands;-- caution to mothers!--mothers, beware! three suckling infants were yesterday pressed to death in their mothers' arms by the crowd which had congregated before the house of brown, jones, and robinson, at nine times nine, bishopsgate street, in their attempts to be among the first purchasers of that wonderful lot of cheap but yet excellent flannels, which b., j., and r. have just imported. such flannels, at such a price, were never before offered to the british public. the sale, at the figures quoted below, will continue for three days more. _magenta house._ and then followed the list. it had chanced that mr. brown had picked up a lot of remnants from a wholesale house in houndsditch, and the genius of robinson immediately combined that fact with the little accident above mentioned. chapter xx. showing how mr. brisket didn't see his way. then two months passed by, and the summer was over. early in september mr. brown had been taken ill, and he went to margate for a fortnight with his unmarried daughter. this had been the means of keeping brisket quiet for a while with reference to that sum of money which he was to receive, and had given a reason why the marriage with him should not be performed at once. on mr. brown's return, the matter was discussed, and brisket became impatient. but the middle of october had come before any steps were taken to which it will be necessary to allude in the annals of the firm. at that time brisket, on two successive days, was closeted with his proposed father-in-law, and it was evident to robinson that after each of these interviews mr. brown was left in an unhappy frame of mind. at this time the affairs of the shop were not absolutely ruinous,--or would not have been so had there been a proper watch kept on the cash taken over the counter. the heaviest amounts due were to the stationer, printer, and advertising agents. this was wrong, for such people of course press for their money; and whatever hitch or stoppage there may be in trade, there should, at any rate, be no hitch or stoppage in the capability for advertising. for the goods disposed of by the house payments had been made, if not with absolute punctuality on every side, at any rate so fairly that some supply was always forthcoming. the account at the bank had always been low; and, though a few small bills had been discounted, nothing like a mercantile system of credit had been established. all this was wrong, and had already betrayed the fact that brown, jones, and robinson were little people, trading in a little way. it is useless to conceal the fact now, and these memoirs would fail to render to commerce that service which is expected from them, were the truth on this matter kept back from the public. brown, jones, and robinson had not soared upwards into the empyrean vault of commercial greatness on eagle's wings. there are bodies so ponderous in their nature, that for them no eagle's wings can be found. the firm had commenced their pecuniary transactions on a footing altogether weak and unsubstantial. they had shown their own timidity, and had confessed, by the nature of their fiscal transactions, that they knew themselves to be small. to their advertising agents they should never have been behindhand in their payments for one day; but they should have been bold in demanding credit from their bank, and should have given their orders to the wholesale houses without any of that hesitation or reserve which so clearly indicates feebleness of purpose. but in spite of this acknowledged weakness, a brisk trade over the counter had been produced; and though the firm had never owned a large stock, an unremitting sale was maintained of small goods, such as ribbons, stockings, handkerchiefs, and cotton gloves. the katakarion shirts also had been successful, and now there was a hope that, during the coming winter, something might be done in african monkey muffs. at that time, therefore, the bill of the house at three months, though not to be regarded as a bank-note, was not absolutely waste paper. how far brisket's eyes were open on this matter cannot now be said; but he still expressed himself willing to take one hundred pounds in cash, and the remainder of maryanne's fortune in the bill of the firm at three months. and then mr. brisket made a third visit to bishopsgate street. on all these occasions he passed by the door of the little room in which robinson sat, and well did his late rival know his ponderous step. his late rival;--for brisket was now welcome to come and go. "mr. brown!" said he, on one occasion, "i have come here to have a settlement about this thing at once." "i've been ill, brisket; very ill, you know," said mr. brown, pleadingly, "and i'm not strong now." "but that can't make no difference about the money. maryanne is willing, and me also. when christmas is coming on, it's a busy time in our trade, and i can't be minding that sort of thing then. if you've got the cash ready, and that bit of paper, we'll have it off next week." "i've never spoken to him about the paper;" and mr. brown, as he uttered these words, pointed down towards the room in which robinson was sitting. "then you'd better," said brisket. "for i shan't come here again after to-day. i'll see it out now one way or the other, and so i've told maryanne." mr. brown's sigh, when he heard these words, was prolonged and deep. "you heard what he said that night," continued brisket. "you ask him. he's game for anything of that sort." all these words robinson had overheard, for the doors of the two rooms were close together, and neither of them had been absolutely closed. now was the moment in which it behoved him to act. no false delicacy as to the nature of the conversation between his partner and that partner's proposed son-in-law withheld him; but rising from his seat, he walked straight into the upper room. "here he is, by jingo," said brisket. "talk of the--" "speak of an angel and behold his wings," said robinson, with a faint smile. "i come on a visit which might befit an angel. mr. brown, i consent that your daughter's dowry shall be paid from the funds of the firm." but mr. brown, instead of expressing his thankful gratitude, as was expected, winked at his partner. the dull brisket did not perceive it; but robinson at once knew that this act of munificence on his part was not at the moment pleasing to the lady's father. "you're a trump," said brisket; "and when we're settled at home like, maryanne and i that is, i hope you'll let bygones be bygones, and come and take pot luck with us sometimes. if there's a tender bit of steak about the place it shall be sent to the kitchen fire when you show your face." "brisket," said robinson, "there's my hand. i've loved her. i don't deny it. but you're welcome to her. no woman shall ever sit at the hearth of george robinson;--but at her hearth george robinson will never sit." "you shall be as welcome as if you did," said brisket; "and a man can't say no fairer." but in the meantime mr. brown still continued to wink, and robinson understood that his consent to that bill transaction was not in truth desired. "perhaps, mr. brisket," said he, "as this is a matter of business, i and my partner had better discuss it for a moment together. we can go down into my room, mr. brown." "with all my heart," said brisket. "but remember this, both of you: if i don't see my way before i leave the house, i don't come here any more. i know my way pretty well from aldersgate street, and i'm sick of the road. i've been true to my word all along, and i'll be true to the end. but if i don't see my way before i leave this house, remember i'm off." "you shouldn't have said that," whispered brown to his partner as soon as the two were together. "why not?" "the money won't be there at the end of three months, not if we pay them other things. and where's the hundred pounds of ready to come from?" "that's your look-out." "i haven't got it, george. jones has it, i know; but i can't get it out of him." "jones got a hundred pounds! and where should jones have gotten it?" "i know we have been wrong, george; i know we have. but you can't wonder at me, george; can you? i did bring four thousand pounds into it; didn't i?" "and now you haven't got a hundred pounds!" "if i have it's as much as i can say. but jones has it, and ever so much more. if brisket will wait, we can frighten it out of jones." "if i know anything of human nature," said robinson, "brisket will not wait." "he would, if you hadn't spoke to him that way. he'd say he wouldn't, and go away, and maryanne would blow up; but i should have worked the money out of jones at last, and then brisket would have waited." when mr. brown had made this disclosure, whispering all the time as he leaned his head and shoulder on robinson's upright desk, they both remained silent for a while. "we have been wrong," he had said; "i know we have." and robinson, as he heard the words, perceived that from the beginning to the end he had been a victim. no wonder that the business should not have answered, when such confessions as these were wrung from the senior partner! but the fact alleged by mr. brown in his own excuse was allowed its due weight by robinson, even at that moment. mr. brown had possessed money,--money which might have made his old age comfortable and respectable in obscurity. it was not surprising that he should be anxious to keep in his own hand some small remnant of his own property. but as for jones! what excuse could be made for jones! jones had been a thief; and worse than ordinary thieves, for his thefts were committed on his own friends. "and he has got the money," said robinson. "oh, yes!" said mr. brown, "there's no doubt in life about that." "then, by the heaven above us, he shall refund it to the firm from which he has stolen it," shouted robinson, striking the desk with his fist as he did so. "whish, george, whish; brisket will hear you." "who cares? i have been robbed on every side till i care for nothing! what is brisket to me, or what is your daughter? what is anything?" "but, george--" "is there no honesty left in the world, mr. brown? that there is no love i had already learned. ah me, what an age is this in which we live! deceit, deceit, deceit;--it is all deceit!" "the heart of a man is very deceitful," said mr. brown. "and a woman's especially." "delilah would have been a true wife now-a-days. but never mind. that man is still there, and he must be answered. i have no hundred pounds to give him." "no, george; no; we're sure of that." "when this business is broken up, as broken up it soon will be--" "oh, george, don't say so." "ay, but it will. then i shall walk out from magenta house with empty pockets and with clean hands." "but think of me, george. i had four thousand pounds when we began. hadn't i, now?" "i do think of you, and i forgive you. now go up to brisket, for he will want his answer. i can assist you no further. my name is still left to me, and of that you may avail yourself. but as for money, george robinson has none." about half an hour after that, mr. brisket again descended the stairs with his usual ponderous and slow step, and went forth into the street, shaking the dust from his feet as he did so. he was sore offended, and vowed in his heart that he would never enter that house again. he had pressed mr. brown home about the money; and that gentleman had suggested to him, first, that it should be given to him on the day after the marriage, and then that it should be included in the bill. "you offered to take it all in one bill before, you know," said mr. brown. hereupon brisket began to think that he did not see his way at all, and finally left the house in great anger. he went direct from thence to mrs. poppins' lodgings, where he knew that he would find miss brown. poppins himself was, of course, at his work, and the two ladies were together. "i've come to wish you good-by," he said, as he walked into the room. "laws, mr. brisket!" exclaimed mrs. poppins. "it's all up about this marriage, and so i thought it right to come and tell you. i began straightforward, and i mean to end straightforward." "you mean to say you're not going to have her," said mrs. poppins. "polly, don't make a fool of yourself," said maryanne. "do you think i want the man. let him go." and then he did go, and miss brown was left without a suitor. chapter xxi. mr. brown is taken ill. brisket kept his word, and never entered magenta house again, nor, as far as george robinson is aware, has he seen any of the brown family from that day on which he gave up his intended marriage to this present. for awhile maryanne brown protested that she was well satisfied that this should be so. she declared to mrs. poppins that the man was mercenary, senseless, uninteresting, heavy, and brutal;--and though in the bosom of her own family she did not speak out with equal freedom, yet from time to time she dropped words to show that she was not breaking her heart for william brisket. but this mood did not last long. before winter had come round the bitterness of gall had risen within her heart, and when christmas was there her frame of mind was comfortable neither to herself nor to her unfortunate father. during this time the house still went on. set a business going, and it is astonishing how long it will continue to move by the force of mere daily routine. people flocked in for shirts and stockings, and young women came there to seek their gloves and ribbons, although but little was done to attract them, either in the way of advertisement or of excellence of supply. throughout this wretched month or two robinson knew that failure was inevitable, and with this knowledge it was almost impossible that he should actively engage himself in his own peculiar branch of business. there was no confidence between the partners. jones was conscious of what was coming and was more eager than ever to feather his own nest. but in these days mr. brown displayed a terrible activity. he was constantly in the shop, and though it was evident to all eyes that care and sorrow were heaping upon his shoulders a burden which he could hardly bear, he watched his son-in-law with the eyes of an argus. it was terrible to see him, and terrible, alas, to hear him;--for at this time he had no reserve before the men and women engaged behind the counters. at first there had been a pretence of great love and confidence, but this was now all over. it was known to all the staff that mr. brown watched his son-in-law, and known also that the youngest partner had been treated with injustice by them both. they in the shop, and even jones himself, knew little of what in these days was going on upstairs. but robinson knew, for his room was close to that in which mr. brown and his daughter lived; and, moreover, in spite of the ill-feeling which could not but exist between him and miss brown, he passed many hours in that room with her father. the bitterness of gall had now risen within her breast, and she had begun to realize that truth which must be so terrible for a woman, that she had fallen to the ground between two stools. it is a truth terrible to a woman. there is no position in a man's life of the same aspect. a man may fail in business, and feel that no further chance of any real success can ever come in his way; or he may fail in love, and in the soreness of his heart may know that the pleasant rippling waters of that fountain are for him dried for ever. but with a woman the two things are joined together. her battle must be fought all in one. her success in life and her romance must go together, hand in hand. she is called upon to marry for love, and if she marry not for love, she disobeys the ordinance of nature and must pay the penalty. but at the same time all her material fortune depends upon the nature of that love. an industrious man may marry a silly fretful woman, and may be triumphant in his counting-house though he be bankrupt in his drawing-room. but a woman has but the one chance. she must choose her life's companion because she loves him; but she knows how great is the ruin of loving one who cannot win for her that worldly success which all in the world desire to win. with maryanne brown these considerations had become frightfully momentous. she had in her way felt the desire for some romance in life, but she had felt more strongly still how needful it was that she should attain by her feminine charms a position which would put her above want. "as long as i have a morsel, you shall have half of it," her father had said to her more than once. and she had answered him with terrible harshness, "but what am i to do when you have no longer a morsel to share with me? when you are ruined, or dead, where must i then look for support and shelter?" the words were harsh, and she was a very regan to utter them. but, nevertheless, they were natural. it was manifest enough that her father would not provide for her, and for her there was nothing but eve's lot of finding an adam who would dig for her support. she was hard, coarse,--almost heartless; but it may perhaps be urged in her favour, that she was not wilfully dishonest. she had been promised to one man, and though she did not love him she would have married him, intending to do her duty. but to this he would not consent, except under certain money circumstances which she could not command. then she learned to love another man, and him she would have married; but prudence told her that she should not do so until he had a home in which to place her. and thus she fell to the ground between two stools, and, falling, perceived that there was nothing before her on which her eye could rest with satisfaction. there are women, very many women, who could bear this, if with sadness, still without bitterness. it is a lot which many women have to bear; but maryanne brown was one within whose bosom all feelings were turned to gall by the prospect of such a destiny. what had she done to deserve such degradation and misfortune? she would have been an honest wife to either husband! that it could be her own fault in any degree she did not for a moment admit. it was the fault of those around her, and she was not the woman to allow such a fault to pass unavenged. "father," she would say, "you will be in the workhouse before this new year is ended." "i hope not, my child." "hope! what's the good of hoping? you will. and where am i to go then? mother left a handsome fortune behind her, and this is what you've brought us to." "i've done everything for the best, maryanne." "why didn't you give that man the money when you had it? you'd have had a home then when you'd ruined yourself. now you'll have no home; neither shall i." all this was very hard to be borne. "she nags at me that dreadful, george," he once said, as he sat in his old arm-chair, with his head hanging wearily on his chest, "that i don't know where i am or what i'm doing. as for the workhouse, i almost wish i was there." she would go also to poppins' lodgings, and there quarrel with her old friend polly. it may be that at this time she did not receive all the respect that had been paid to her some months back, and this reverse was, to her proud spirit, unendurable. "polly," she said, "if you wish to turn your back upon me, you can do so. but i won't put up with your airs." "there's nobody turning their back upon you, only yourself," polly replied; "but it's frightful to hear the way you're always a-grumbling;--as if other people hadn't had their ups and downs besides you." robinson also was taught by the manner of his friend poppins that he could not now expect to receive that high deference which was paid to him about the time that johnson of manchester had been in the ascendant. those had been the halcyon days of the firm, and robinson had then been happy. men at that time would point him out as he passed, as one worthy of notice; his companions felt proud when he would join them; and they would hint to him, with a mysterious reverence that was very gratifying, their assurance that he was so deeply occupied as to make it impossible that he should give his time to the ordinary slow courtesies of life. all this was over now, and he felt that he was pulled down with rough hands from the high place which he had occupied. "it's all very well," poppins would say to him, "but the fact is, you're a-doing of nothing." "if fourteen hours a day--" began robinson. but poppins instantly stopped him. "fourteen hours' work a day is nothing, if you don't do anything. a man may sweat hard digging holes and filling them up again. but what i say is, he does not do any good. you've been making out all these long stories about things that never existed, but what's the world the better for it;--that's what i want to know. when a man makes a pair of shoes--." and so he went on. coming from such a man as poppins, this was hard to be borne. but nevertheless robinson did bear it. men at the "goose and gridiron" also would shoulder him now-a-days, rather than make way for him. geese whose names had never been heard beyond the walls of that room would presume to occupy his place. and on one occasion, when he rose to address the chamber, the grand omitted the courtesy that had ever been paid to him, and forgot to lay down his pipe. this also he bore without flinching. it was about the middle of february when a catastrophe happened which was the immediate forerunner of the fall of the house. robinson had been at his desk early in the morning,--for, though his efforts were now useless, he was always there; and had been struck with dismay by the loudness of maryanne's tone as she rebuked her father. then mrs. jones had joined them, and the battle had raged still more furiously. the voice of the old man, too, was heard from time to time. when roused by suffering to anger he would forget to speak in his usual falsetto treble, and break out in a few natural words of rough impassioned wrath. at about ten, mr. brown came down into robinson's room, and, seating himself on a low chair, remained there for awhile without moving, and almost without speaking. "is she gone, george?" he asked at last. "which of them?" said robinson. "sarah jane. i'm not so used to her, and it's very bad." then robinson looked out and said that mrs. jones was gone. whereupon mr. brown returned to his own room. again and again throughout the day robinson heard the voices; but he did not go up to the room. he never did go there now, unless specially called upon to do so by business. at about noon, however, there came a sudden silence,--a silence so sudden that he noticed it. and then he heard a quick step across the floor. it was nothing to him, and he did not move from his seat; but still he kept his ears open, and sat thoughtless of other matters, as though he expected that something was about to happen. the room above was perfectly still, and for a minute or two nothing was done. but then there came the fall of a quicker step across the room, and the door was opened, and maryanne, descending the four stairs which led to his own closet, was with him in an instant. "george," she said, forgetting all propriety of demeanour, "father's in a fit!" it is not necessary that the scene which followed should be described with minuteness in these pages. robinson, of course, went up to mr. brown's room, and a doctor was soon there in attendance upon the sick man. he had been struck by paralysis, and thus for a time had been put beyond the reach of his daughters' anger. sarah jane was very soon there, but the wretched state in which the old man was lying quieted even her tongue. she did not dare to carry on the combat as she looked on the contorted features and motionless limbs of the poor wretch as he lay on his bed. on her mind came the conviction that this was partly her work, and that if she now spoke above her breath, those around her would accuse her of her cruelty. so she slunk about into corners, whispering now and again with her husband, and quickly took herself off, leaving the task of nursing the old man to the higher courage of her sister. and maryanne's courage sufficed for the work. now that she had a task before her she did it;--as she would have done her household tasks had she become the wife of brisket or of robinson. to the former she would have been a good wife, for he would have required no softness. she would have been true to him, tending him and his children;--scolding them from morning to night, and laying not unfrequently a rough hand upon them. but for this brisket would not have cared. he would have been satisfied, and all would have been well. it is a thousand pities that, in that matter, brisket could not have seen his way. and now that her woman's services were really needed, she gave them to her father readily. it cannot be said that she was a cheerful nurse. had he been in a state in which cheerfulness would have relieved him, her words would have again been sharp and pointed. she was silent and sullen, thinking always of the bad days that were coming to her. but, nevertheless, she was attentive to him,--and during the time of his terrible necessity even good to him. it is so natural to women to be so, that i think even regan would have nursed lear had lear's body become impotent instead of his mind. there she sat close to his bed, and there from time to time robinson would visit her. in those days they always called each other george and maryanne, and were courteous to each other, speaking solely of the poor old sick man, who was so near to them both. of their former joint hopes, no word was spoken then; nor, at any rate as regards the lady, was there even a thought of love. as to jones, he very rarely came there. he remained in the shop below; where the presence of some member of the firm was very necessary, for, in these days, the number of hands employed had become low. "i suppose it's all up down there," she said one day, and as she spoke she pointed towards the shop. at this time her father had regained his consciousness, and had recovered partially the use of his limbs. but even yet he could not speak so as to be understood, and was absolutely helpless. the door of his bedroom was open, and robinson was sitting in the front room, to which it opened. "i'm afraid so," said he. "there are creditors who are pressing us; and now that they have been frightened about mr. brown, we shall be sold up." "you mean the advertising people?" "yes; the stationer and printer, and one or two of the agents. the fact is, that the money, which should have satisfied them, has been frittered away uselessly." "it's gone at any rate," said she. "he hasn't got it," and she pointed to her father. "nor have i," said robinson. "i came into it empty-handed, and i shall go out as empty. no one shall say that i cared more for myself than for the firm. i've done my best, and we have failed. that's all." "i am not going to blame you, george. my look-out is bad enough, but i will not say that you did it. it is worse for a woman than for a man. and what am i to do with him?" and again she pointed towards the inner room. in answer to this robinson said something as to the wind being tempered for the shorn lamb. "as far as i can see," she continued, "the sheep is best off that knows how to keep its own wool. it's always such cold comfort as that one gets, when the world means to thrust one to the wall. it's only the sheep that lets themselves be shorn. the lions and the tigers know how to keep their own coats on their own backs. i believe the wind blows colder on poor naked wretches than it does on those as have their carriages to ride in. providence is very good to them that know how to provide for themselves." "you are young," said he, "and beautiful--" "psha!" "you will always find a home if you require one." "yes; and sell myself! i'll tell you what it is, george robinson; i wish to enter no man's home unless i can earn my meat there by my work. no man shall tell me that i am eating his bread for nothing. as for love, i don't believe in it. it's all very well for them as have nothing to do and nothing to think of,--for young ladies who get up at ten in the morning, and ride about with young gentlemen, and spend half their time before their looking-glasses. it's like those poetry books you're so fond of. but it's not meant for them as must earn their bread by their own sweat. you talk about love, but it's only madness for the like of you." "i shall talk about it no more." "you can't afford it, george; nor yet can't i. what a man wants in a wife is some one to see to his cooking and his clothes; and what a woman wants is a man who can put a house over her head. of course, if she have something of her own, she'll have so much the better house. as for me, i've got nothing now." "that would have made no difference with me." robinson knew that he was wrong to say this, but he could not help it. he knew that he would be a madman if he again gave way to any feeling of tenderness for this girl, who could be so hard in her manner, so harsh in her speech, and whose temperament was so utterly unsuited to his own. but as she was hard and harsh, so was he in all respects the reverse. as she had told him over and over again, he was tender-hearted even to softness. "no; it wouldn't," she replied. "and, therefore, with all your cleverness, you are little better than a fool. you have been working hard and living poor these two years back, and what better are you? when that old man was weak enough to give you the last of his money, you didn't keep a penny." "not a penny," said robinson, with some feeling of pride at his heart. "and what the better are you for that? look at them joneses; they have got money. when the crash comes, they won't have to walk out into the street. they'll start somewhere in a little way, and will do very well." "and would you have had me become a thief?" "a thief! you needn't have been a thief. you needn't have taken it out of the drawers as some of them did. i couldn't do that myself. i've been sore tempted, but i could never bring myself to that." then she got up, and went to her father, and robinson returned again to the figures that were before him. "what am i to do with him?" she again said, when she returned. "when he is able to move, and the house is taken away from us, what am i to do with him? he's been bad to me, but i won't leave him." "neither will i leave him, maryanne." "that's nonsense. you've got nothing, no more than he has; and he's not your flesh and blood. where would you have been now, if we'd been married on that day." "i should have been nearer to him in blood, but not truer to him as a partner." "it's lucky for you that your sort of partnership needn't last for ever. you've got your hands and your brain, and at any rate you can work. but who can say what must become of us? looking at it all through, george, i have been treated hard;--haven't i, now?" he could only say that of such hard treatment none of it rested on his conscience. at such a moment as this he could not explain to her that had she herself been more willing to trust in others, more prone to believe in providence, less hard and worldly, things would have been better with her. even now, could she have relaxed into tenderness for half-an-hour, there was one at her elbow who would have taken her at once, with all that burden of a worn-out pauper parent, and have poured into her lap all the earnings of his life. but maryanne brown could not relax into tenderness, nor would she ever deign to pretend that she could do so. the first day on which mr. brown was able to come out into the sitting-room was the very day on which brown, jones, and robinson were declared bankrupts. craddock and giles, the stationers of st. mary axe, held bills of theirs, as to which they would not,--or probably could not,--wait; and the city and west end commercial and agricultural joint-stock bank refused to make any further advances. it was a sad day; but one, at least, of the partners felt relieved when the blow had absolutely fallen, and the management of the affairs of the shop was taken out of the hands of the firm. "and will we be took to prison?" asked mr. brown. they were almost the first articulate words which he had been heard to utter since the fit had fallen on him; and robinson was quick to assure him that no such misfortune would befall him. "they are not at all bitter against us," said robinson. "they know we have done our best." "and what will they do with us?" again asked mr. brown. "we shall have a sale, and clear out everything, and pay a dividend;--and then the world will be open to us for further efforts." "the world will never be open to me again," said mr. brown. "and if i had only have kept the money when i had it--" "mr. brown," said robinson, taking him by the hand, "you are ill now, and seen through the sickly hue of weakness and infirmity, affairs look bad and distressing; but ere long you will regain your strength." "no, george, i shall never do that." on this day the business of the shop still went on, but the proceeds of such sales as were made were carried to the credit of the assignees. mr. jones was there throughout the day, doing nothing, and hardly speaking to any one. he would walk slowly from the front of the shop to the back, and then returning would stand in the doorway, rubbing his hands one over the other. when any female of specially smart appearance entered the shop, he would hand to her a chair, and whisper a few words of oily courtesy; but to those behind the counter he did not speak a word. in the afternoon mrs. jones made her appearance, and when she had been there a few minutes, was about to raise the counter door and go behind; but her husband took her almost roughly by the arm, and muttering something to her, caused her to leave the shop. "ah, i knew what such dishonest doings must come to," she said, as she went her way. "and, what's more, i know who's to blame." and yet it was she and her husband who had brought this ruin on the firm. "george," said mr. brown, that evening, "i have intended for the best,--i have indeed." "nobody blames you, sir." "you blame me about maryanne." "no, by heaven; not now." "and she blames me about the money; but i've meant it for the best;--i have indeed." all this occurred on a saturday, and on that same evening robinson attended at his debating club, for the express purpose of explaining to the members the state of his own firm. "it shall never be thrown in my teeth," said he, "that i became a bankrupt and was ashamed to own it." so he got up and made a speech, in which he stated that brown, jones, and robinson had failed, but that he could not lay it to his own charge that he had been guilty of any omission or commission of which he had reason to be ashamed as a british merchant. this is mentioned here, in order that a fitting record may be made of the very high compliment which was paid to him on the occasion by old pancabinet. "most worthy grand," said old pan, and as he spoke he looked first at the chairman and then down the long table of the room, "i am sure i may truly say that we have all of us heard the statement made by the enterprising and worthy goose with sentiments of regret and pain; but i am equally sure that we have none of us heard it with any idea that either dishonour or disgrace can attach itself in the matter to the name of--" (order, order, order.) "worthy geese are a little too quick," continued the veteran debater with a smile--"to the name of--one whom we all so highly value." (hear, hear, hear.) and then old pancabinet moved that the enterprising and worthy goose was entitled to the full confidence of the chamber. crowdy magnanimously seconded the motion, and the resolution, when carried, was communicated to robinson by the worthy grand. having thanked them in a few words, which were almost inaudible from his emotion, he left the chamber, and immediately afterwards the meeting was adjourned. chapter xxii. wasteful and impetuous sale. there is no position in life in which a man receives so much distinguished attention as when he is a bankrupt,--a bankrupt, that is, of celebrity. it seems as though he had then realized the legitimate ends of trade, and was brought forth in order that those men might do him honour with whom he had been good enough to have dealings on a large scale. robinson was at first cowed when he was called upon to see men who were now becoming aware that they would not receive more than _s._ _d._ in the pound out of all the hundreds that were owed to them. but this feeling very soon wore off, and he found himself laughing and talking with giles the stationer, and burrows the printer, and sloman the official assignee, as though a bankruptcy were an excellent joke; and as though he, as one of the bankrupts, had by far the best of it. these men were about to lose, or rather had lost, large sums of money; but, nevertheless, they took it all as a matter of course, and were perfectly good-humoured. no word of reproach fell from their lips, and when they asked george robinson to give them the advantage of his recognized talents in drawing up the bills for the sale, they put it to him quite as a favour; and sloman, the assignee, went so far as to suggest that he should be remunerated for his work. "if i can only be of any service to you," said robinson, modestly. "of the greatest service," said mr. giles. "a tremendous sacrifice, you know,--enormous liabilities,--unreserved sale,--regardless of cost; and all that sort of thing." "lord bless you!" said mr. burrows. "do you think he doesn't understand how to do all that better than you can tell him? you'll draw out the headings of the posters; won't you, mr. robinson?" "and put the numbers and figures into the catalogue," suggested mr. sloman. "the best way is to put 'em down at about cost price. we find we can generally do 'em at that, if we can only get the people to come sharp enough." and then, as the evening had fallen upon them, at their labours, they adjourned to the "four swans" opposite, and robinson was treated to his supper at the expense of his victims. on the next day the house was closed. this was done in order that the goods might be catalogued and prepared for the final sale. the shop would then be again opened for a week, and, after that, there would be an end of brown, jones, and robinson. in spite of the good-humour which was shown by those from whom ill-humour on such an occasion might have been expected, there was a melancholy about this which was inexpressible. it has been said that there is nothing so exciting in trade as a grand final sacrificial sale. but it is like the last act of a tragedy. it is very good while it lasts, but what is to come after it? robinson, as he descended into the darkened shop, and walked about amidst the lumber that was being dragged forth from the shelves and drawers, felt that he was like marius on the ruins of carthage. here had been the scene of his glory! and then he remembered with what ecstasy he had walked down the shop, when the crowd without were anxiously inquiring the fate of johnson of manchester. that had been a great triumph! but to what had such triumphs led him? the men and women had gone away to their breakfast, and he was standing there alone, leaning against one of the counters; he heard a slight noise behind him, and, turning round, saw mr. brown, who had crept down from his own room without assistance. it was the first time since his illness that he had left the floor on which he lived, and it had been intended that he should never go into the shop again. "oh, mr. brown, is this prudent?" said he, going up to him that he might give him the assistance of his arm. "i wished to see it all once more, george." "there it is, then. there isn't much to see." "but a deal to feel; isn't there, george?--a deal to feel! it did look very pretty that day we opened it,--very pretty. the colours seem to have got dirty now." "bright colours will become dull and dirty, mr. brown. it's the way of the world. the brighter they are in their brightness, the more dull will they look when the tinsel and gloss are gone." "but we should have painted it again this spring, if we'd stopped here." "there are things, mr. brown, which one cannot paint again." "iron and wood you can, or anything of the like of that." "yes, mr. brown; you may repaint iron and wood; but who can restore the faded colours to broken hopes and a bankrupt ambition? you see these arches here which with so light a span bear the burden of the house above them. so was the span of my heart on that opening day. no weight of labour then seemed to be too much for me. the arches remain and will remain; but as for the human heart--" "don't, george,--don't. it will kill me if i see you down in the mouth." "these will be repainted," continued robinson, "and other breasts will glow beneath them with hopes as high as those we felt when you and the others stood here to welcome the public. but what artist can ever repaint our aspirations? the soiled columns of these windows will be regilded, and all here will be bright and young again; but for man, when he loses his glory, there is no regilding. come, mr. brown, we will go upstairs. they will be here soon, and this is no place now for you." then he took him by the hand and led him tenderly to his apartment. there is something inexpressibly melancholy in the idea of bankruptcy in trade;--unless, indeed, when it may have been produced by absolute fraud, and in such a form as to allow of the bankrupts going forth with their pockets full. but in an ordinary way, i know nothing more sad than the fate of men who have embarked all in a trade venture and have failed. it may be, and probably is, the fact, that in almost all such cases the failure is the fault of the bankrupts; but the fault is so generally hidden from their own eyes, that they cannot see the justice of their punishment; and is often so occult in its causes that the justice cannot be discerned by any without deep scrutiny. they who have struggled and lost all feel only that they have worked hard, and worked in vain; that they have thrown away their money and their energy; and that there is an end, now and for ever, to those sweet hopes of independence with which they embarked their small boats upon the wide ocean of commerce. the fate of such men is very sad. of course we hear of bankrupts who come forth again with renewed glories, and who shine all the brighter in consequence of their temporary obscurity. these are the men who can manage to have themselves repainted and regilded; but their number is not great. one hears of such because they are in their way memorable; and one does not hear of the poor wretches who sink down out of the world--back behind counters, and to menial work in warehouses. of ordinary bankrupts one hears nothing. they are generally men who, having saved a little with long patience, embark it all and lose it with rapid impotence. they come forward once in their lives with their little ventures, and then retire never more to be seen or noticed. of all the shops that are opened year after year in london, not above a half remain in existence for a period of twelve months; and not a half ever afford a livelihood to those who open them. is not that a matter which ought to fill one with melancholy? on the establishment of every new shop there are the same high hopes,--those very hopes with which brown, jones, and robinson commenced their career. it is not that all expect to shine forth upon the world as merchant princes, but all do expect to live upon the fruit of their labour and to put by that which will make their old age respectable. alas! alas! of those who thus hope how much the larger proportion are doomed to disappointment. the little lots of goods that are bought and brought together with so much pride turn themselves into dust and rubbish. the gloss and gilding wear away, as they wear away also from the heart of the adventurer, and then the small aspirant sinks back into the mass of nothings from whom he had thought to rise. when one thinks of it, it is very sad; but the sadness is not confined to commerce. it is the same at the bar, with the army, and in the church. we see only the few who rise above the waves, and know nothing of the many who are drowned beneath the waters. perhaps something of all this was in the heart of our friend robinson as he placed himself at his desk in his little room. now, for this next day or two he would still be somebody in the career of magenta house. his services were wanted; and therefore, though he was ruined, men smiled on him. but how would it be with him when that sale should be over, and when he would be called upon to leave the premises and walk forth into the street? he was aware now, though he had never so thought of himself before, that in the short days of his prosperity he had taken much upon himself, as the member of a prosperous firm. it had never then occurred to him that he had given himself airs because he was robinson, of the house in bishopsgate street; but now he bethought himself that he had perhaps done so. how would men treat him when he should no longer be the same robinson? how had he condescended to poppins! how had he domineered at the "goose and gridiron!" how had he patronized those who served him in the shop! men remember these things of themselves quite as quickly as others remember them. robinson thought of all this now, and almost wished that those visits to blackfriars bridge had not been in vain. but nevertheless it behoved him to work. he had promised that he would use his own peculiar skill for the benefit of the creditors, and therefore, shaking himself as it were out of his despondency, he buckled himself to his desk. "it is a grand opportunity," he said, as he thought of the task before him, "but my work will be no longer for myself and partners. the lofty rhyme i still must make, though other hands shall touch the money. so do the bees for others' sake fill their waxen combs with honey." then, when he had thus solaced himself with verse, he sat down to his work. there was a mine of wealth before him from which to choose. a tradesman in preparing the ordinary advertisements of his business is obliged to remember the morrow. he must not risk everything on one cast of the die. he must be in some degree modest and circumspect, lest he shut himself out from all possibility of rising to a higher note on any future opportunity. but in preparing for a final sacrifice the artist may give the reins to his imagination, and plunge at once into all the luxuries of the superlative. but to this pleasure there was one drawback. the thing had been done so often that superlatives had lost their value, and it had come to pass that the strongest language sounded impotently in the palled ears of the public. what idea can, in its own nature, be more harrowing to the soul than that of a tremendous sacrifice? but what effect would arise now-a-days from advertising a sale under such a heading? every little milliner about tottenham court road has her "tremendous sacrifice!" when she desires to rid her shelves of ends of ribbons and bits of soiled flowers. no; some other language than this must be devised. a phraseology not only startling but new must be invented in preparing the final sale of the house of brown, jones, and robinson. he threw himself back in his chair, and sat for awhile silent, with his finger fixed upon his brow. the first words were everything, and what should be the first words? at last, in a moment, they came to him, and he wrote as follows:-- ruin! ruin!! ruin!!! wasteful and impetuous sale. at magenta house, , bishopsgate street, on march the th, and three following days, the stock in trade of the bankrupts, brown, jones, and robinson, valued at , _l._ _s._ _d._, will be thrown broadcast before the public at the frightful reduction of per cent. on the cost price. to acquire the impetus and force necessary for the realization of so vast a property, all goods are quoted for true, honest, bona-fide sale at one-quarter the cost price. this is a solemn fact, and one which well merits the earnest attention of every mother of a family in england. the goods are of the first class. and as no attempt in trade has ever hitherto been made of equal magnitude to that of the bankrupts', it may with absolute truth be said that no such opportunity as this has ever yet been afforded to the public of supplying themselves with the richest articles of luxury at prices which are all but nominal. how will any lady hereafter forgive herself, who shall fail to profit by such an opportunity as this? such was the heading of his bills, and he read and re-read the words, not without a glow of pleasure. one can be in love with ruin so long as the excitement lasts. "a solemn fact!" he repeated to himself; "or shall i say a glorious fact? glorious would do well for the public view of the matter; but as it touches the firm, solemn, perhaps, is more appropriate. mother of a family! shall i say, also, of every father? i should like to include all; but then the fathers never come, and it would sound loaded." again he looked at the bill, again read it, and then proceeded to describe with great accuracy, on a fly-leaf, the dimensions of the paper to be used, the size of the different types, and the adaptation of various colours. "that will do," said he; "i think that will do." but this which he had now done, though, perhaps, the most important part of his task, was by no means the most laborious. he had before him various catalogues of the goods, and it remained for him to affix the prices, to describe the qualities, and to put down the amount of each on hand. this was no light task, and he worked hard at it into the middle of the night. but long before that time came he had thrust away from him the inefficient lists with which he had been supplied, and trusted himself wholly to his imagination. so may be seen the inspired schoolmaster who has beneath his hands the wretched verses of a dull pupil. for awhile he attempts to reduce to reason and prosody the futile efforts of the scholar, but anon he lays aside in disgust the distasteful task, and turning his eyes upwards to the muse who has ever been faithful, he dashes off a few genial lines of warm poetry. the happy juvenile, with wondering pen, copies the work, and the parent's heart rejoices over the prize which his child has won. so was it now with robinson. what could he do with a poor gross of hose, numbered to ? or what with a score or two of middling kids? there were five dozen and nine left of the katakairions. was he to put down such numbers as those in his sacrificial catalogue? for awhile he kept these entries before him as a guide--as a guide which in some sort he might follow at a wide distance. but he found that it was impossible for him to be so guided, even at any distance, and at last he thrust the poor figures from him altogether and trampled them under his feet. "tablecloths, seven dozen and a half, different sizes." that was the last item he read, and as he pushed it away, the following were the words which his fertile pen produced:-- the renowned flemish treble table damasks, of argentine brightness and snow-like purity, with designs of absolute grandeur and artistic perfection of outline. to dine eight persons, worth _l,_ _s._ _d._, for _s._ _d._; to dine twelve, worth _l._ _s._ _d._, for _s._ ½_d._; to dine sixteen, worth _l._ _s._ _d._, for _s._ ¼_d._; and so on, at the same rate, to any size which the epicurean habits of this convivial age can possibly require. space will not permit us here to give the bill entire, but after this fashion was it framed. and then the final note was as follows:-- n.b.--many tons weight of first-class table damasks and sheetings, soiled but not otherwise impaired; also of ribbons, gloves, hose, shirts, crinolines, paletots, mantles, shawls, prints, towels, blankets, quilts, and flouncings, will be sold on the first two days at buyers' own prices. "there," said he, as he closed down his ink-bottle at three o'clock in the morning, "that, i suppose, is my last day's work in the house of brown, jones, and robinson. i have worked, not for myself, but others, and i have worked honestly." then he went home, and slept as though he had no trouble on his mind. on the following morning he again was there, and messrs. giles, burrows, and sloman attended with him. mr. brown, also, and mr. jones were present. on this occasion the meeting was held in mr. brown's sitting-room, and they were all assembled in order that robinson might read over the sale list as he had prepared it. poor mr. brown sat in a corner of his old sofa, very silent. now and again, as some long number or specially magniloquent phrase would strike his ear, he expressed his surprise by a sort of gasp; but throughout the whole morning he did not speak a word as to the business on hand. jones for the first few minutes attempted to criticize; but the authority of mr. sloman and the burly aspect of mr. giles the paper-dealer, were soon too much for his courage, and he also collapsed into silence. but the three gentlemen who were most concerned did not show all that silent acquiescence which george robinson's painful exertions on their behalf so richly deserved. "impetuous!" said mr. sloman. "what does 'impetuous' mean? i never heard tell before of an impetuous sacrifice. tremendous is the proper word, mr. robinson." "tremendous is not my word," answered robinson; "and as to the meaning of impetuous--" "it sounds well, i think," said mr. burrows; and then they went on. "broadcast--broadcast!" said mr. giles. "that means sowing, don't it?" "exactly," said robinson. "have not i sown, and are not you to reap? if you will allow me i will go on." he did go on, and by degrees got through the whole heading; but there was hardly a word which was not contested. it is all very well for a man to write, when he himself is the sole judge of what shall be written; but it is a terrible thing to have to draw up any document for the approval of others. one's choicest words are torn away, one's figures of speech are maltreated, one's stops are misunderstood, and one's very syntax is put to confusion; and then, at last, whole paragraphs are cashiered as unnecessary. first comes the torture and then the execution. "come, wilkins, you have the pen of a ready writer; prepare for us this document." in such words is the victim addressed by his colleagues. unhappy wilkins! he little dreams of the misery before him, as he proudly applies himself to his work. but it is beautiful to hear and see, when two scribes have been appointed, how at first they praise each other's words, as did trissotin and vadius; how gradually each objects to this comma or to that epithet; how from moment to moment their courage will arise,--till at last every word that the other has written is foul nonsense and flat blasphemy;--till vadius at last will defy his friend in prose and verse, in greek and latin. robinson on this occasion had no rival, but not the less were his torments very great. "argentine brightness!" said mr. giles. "what's 'argentine?' i don't like 'argentine.' you'd better put that out, mr. robinson." "it's the most effective word in the whole notice," said robinson, and then he passed on. "tons weight of towelling!" said mr. sloman. "that's coming it a little too strong, mr. robinson." this was the end of the catalogue. "gentlemen," said robinson, rising from his chair, "what little i have been able to do for you in this matter i have done willingly. there is the notice of your sale, drawn out in such language as seems suitable to me. if it answers your purpose, i pray that you will use it. if you can frame one that will do so better, i beg that no regard for my feelings may stand in your way. my only request to you is this,--that if my words be used, they may not be changed or garbled." then, bowing to them all, he left the room. they knew the genius of the man, and the notice afterwards appeared exactly in the form in which robinson had framed it. chapter xxiii. farewell. for the four appointed days the sale was continued, and it was wondrous to see with what animation the things went off. it seemed as though ladies were desirous of having a souvenir from magenta house, and that goods could be sold at a higher price under the name of a sacrifice than they would fetch in the ordinary way of trade. "if only we could have done as well," robinson said to his partner jones, wishing that, if possible, there might be good humour between them in these last days. "we did do quite as well, and better," said jones, "only the money was thrown away in them horrid advertisements." after that, george robinson made no further effort to maintain friendly relations with mr. jones. "george," said mr. brown, "i hope they'll allow me something. they ought; oughtn't they? there wouldn't have been nothing, only for my four thousand pounds." robinson did not take the trouble to explain to him that had he kept his four thousand pounds out of the way, the creditors would not now have any lost money to lament. robinson was careful to raise no hopes by his answer; but, nevertheless, he resolved that when the sale was over, he would do his best. on the fifth day, when the shop had been well nigh cleared of all the goods, the premises themselves were sold. brown, jones, and robinson had taken them on a term of years, and the lease with all the improvements was put up to auction. when we say that the price which the property fetched exceeded the whole sum spent for external and internal decorations, including the magenta paint and the plate-glass, we feel that the highest possible testimony is given to the taste and talent displayed by the firm. it was immediately after this that application was made to the creditors on behalf of mr. brown. "he brought four thousand pounds into the business," said robinson, "and now he hasn't a penny of his own." "and we have none of us got a penny," whined out mr. jones, who was standing by. "mr. jones and i are young, and can earn our bread," said robinson; "but that old man must go into the workhouse, if you do not feel it possible to do something for him." "and so must my poor babbies," said jones. "as to work, i ain't fit for it." but he was soon interrupted, and made to understand that he might think himself lucky if he were not made to disgorge that which he already possessed. as to mr. brown, the creditors with much generosity agreed that an annuity of _s._ a week should be purchased for him out of the proceeds of the sale. "i ain't long for this world, george," he said, when he was told; "and they ought to get it cheap. put 'em up to that, george; do now." twenty shillings a week was not much for all his wants; but, nevertheless, he might be more comfortable with that than he had been for many a year, if only his daughter would be kind to him. alas, alas! was it within the nature of things that his daughters should be kind? it was on this occasion, when the charitable intention of the creditors was communicated to mr. brown by robinson, that that conversation took place to which allusion has been made in the opening chapter of these memoirs. of course, it was necessary that each member of the firm should provide in some way for his future necessities. mr. jones had signified his intention of opening a small hairdresser's shop in gray's inn lane. "i was brought up to it once," he said, "and it don't require much ready money." both mr. brown and robinson knew that he was in possession of money, but it was not now worth their while to say more about this. the fox had made good his prey, and who could say where it was hidden? "and what will you do, george?" asked mr. brown. then it was that robinson communicated to them the fact that application had been made to him by the editor of a first class magazine for a written account of the doings of the firm. "i think it may be of advantage to commerce in general," the editor had said with his customary dignity of expression and propriety of demeanour. "i quite agree with you," robinson had replied, "if only the commercial world of great britain can be induced to read the lesson." the editor seemed to think that the commercial world of great britain did read the cornhill magazine, and an arrangement was quickly made between them. those who have perused the chapter in question will remember how robinson yielded when the senior partner pleaded that as they had been partners so long, they should still be partners to the end; and how he had yielded again when it was suggested to him that he should receive some assistance in the literary portion of the work. that assistance has been given, and george robinson hopes that it may have been of advantage. "i suppose we shall see each other sometimes, george," maryanne said to him, when she came down to his little room to bid him farewell. "i hope we shall, maryanne." "i don't suppose we shall ever dance together again at the hall of harmony." "no, maryanne, never. that phase of life is for me over. neither with you nor with any other fair girl shall i again wanton away the flying hours. life is too precious for that; and the work which falls upon a man's shoulders is too exacting. the hall of harmony is for children, maryanne;--for grown children, perhaps, but still for children." "you used to like it, george." "i did; and could again. so could i again stop with longing mouth at the window of that pastrycook, whose tarts in early life attracted all my desires. i could again be a boy in everything, did i not recognize the stern necessity which calls me to be a man. i could dance with you still, whirling swiftly round the room to the sweet sound of the music, stretching the hours of delight out to the very dawn, were it not for adam's doom. in the sweat of my brow must i eat my bread. there is a time for all things, maryanne; but with me the time for such pastimes as those is gone." "you'll keep company with some other young woman before long, george, and then you'll be less gloomy." "never! that phase of life is also over. why should i? to what purpose?" "to be married, of course." "yes; and become a woman's slave, like poor poppins; or else have my heart torn again with racking jealousy, as it was with you. no, maryanne! let those plodding creatures link themselves with women whose bodies require comforting but whose minds never soar. the world must be populated, and therefore let the briskets marry." "i suppose you've heard of him, george?" "not a word." "la, now! i declare you've no curiosity to inquire about any one. if i was dead and buried to-morrow, i believe you'd never ask a word about me." "i would go to your grave, maryanne, and sit there in silence." "would you, now? i hope you won't, all the same. but about brisket. you remember when that row was, and you were so nigh choking him?" "do i remember? ay, maryanne; when shall i forget it? it was the last hour of my madness." "i never admired you so much as i did then, george. but never mind. that's all done and over now;--isn't it?" "all done and over," said robinson, mournfully repeating her words. "of course it is. but about brisket. immediately after that, the very next day, he went out to gogham,--where he was always going, you know, with that cart of his, to buy sheep. sheep, indeed!" "and wasn't it for sheep?" "no, george. brisket was the sheep, and there was there a little she-wolf that has got him at last into her claws. brisket is married, george." "what! another poppins! ha! ha! ha! we shall not want for children." "he has seen his way at last. she was a drover's daughter; and now he's married her and brought her home." "a drover's daughter?" "well, he says a grazier's; but it's all the same. he never would have done for me, george; never. and i'll tell you more; i don't think i ever saw the man as would. i should have taken either of you,--i was so knocked about among 'em. but i should have made you miserable, whichever it was. it's a consolation to me when i think of that." and it was a consolation also to him. he had loved her,--had loved her very dearly. he had been almost mad for love of her. but yet he had always known, that had he won her she would have made him miserable. there was consolation in that when he thought of his loss. then, at last, he wished her good-by. "and now farewell, maryanne. be gentle with that old man." "george," she said, "as long as he wants me, i'll stick to him. he's never been a good father to me; but if he wants me, i'll stick to him. as to being gentle, it's not in me. i wasn't brought up gentle, and you can't teach an old dog new tricks." those were the last words she spoke to him, and they had, at any rate, the merit of truth. and then, before he walked out for the last time from the portals of magenta house, he bade adieu to his old partner mr. brown. "god bless you, george!" said the old man; "god bless you!" "mr. brown," said he, "i cannot part from you without acknowledging that the loss of all your money sits very heavy on my heart." "never think of it, george." "but i shall think of it. you were an old man, mr. brown, and the money was enough for you; or, if you did go into trade again, the old way would have suited you best." "well, george, now you mention it, i think it would." "it was the same mistake, mr. brown, that we have so often heard of,--putting old wine into a new bottle. the bottle is broken and the wine is spilt. for myself, i've learned a lesson, and i am a wiser man; but i'm sorry for you, mr. brown. "i shall never say a word to blame you, george." "as to my principles,--that system of commerce which i have advocated,--as to that, i am still without a doubt. i am certain of the correctness of my views. look at barlywig and his colossal fortune, and , _l._ a year spent in advertising." "but then you should have your , _l._ a year." "by no means! but the subject is a long one, mr. brown, and cannot now be discussed with advantage. this, however, i do feel,--that i should not have embarked your little all in such an enterprise. it was enough for you; but to me, with my views, it was nothing,--less than nothing. i will begin again with unimpeded wings, and you shall hear of my success. but for your sake, mr. brown, i regret what is past." then he pressed the old man's hand and went forth from magenta house. from that day to this present one he has never again entered the door. "and so brisket is married. brisket is right. brisket is a happy man," he said to himself, as he walked slowly down the passage by st. botolph's church. "brisket is certainly right; i will go and see brisket." so he did; and continuing his way along the back of the bank and the narrow street which used to be called lad lane,--i wish they would not alter the names of the streets; was it not enough that the "swan with two necks" should be pulled down, foreshadowing, perhaps, in its ruin the fate of another bird with two necks, from which this one took its emblematic character?--and so making his way out into aldersgate street. he had never before visited the lares of brisket, for brisket had been his enemy. but brisket was his enemy no longer, and he walked into the shop with a light foot and a pleasant smile. there, standing at some little distance behind the block, looking with large, wondering eyes at the carcases of the sheep which hung around her, stood a wee little woman, very pretty, with red cheeks, and red lips, and short, thick, clustering curls. this was the daughter of the grazier from gogham. "the shopman will be back in a minute," said she. "i ought to be able to do it myself, but i'm rather astray about the things yet awhile." then george robinson told her who he was. she knew his name well, and gave him her little plump hand in token of greeting. "laws a mercy! are you george robinson? i've heard such a deal about you. he's inside, just tidying hisself a bit for dinner. who do you think there is here, bill?" and she opened the door leading to the back premises. "here's george robinson, that you're always so full of." then he followed her out into a little yard, where he found brisket in the neighbourhood of a pump, smelling strongly of yellow soap, with his sleeves tucked up, and hard at work with a rough towel. "robinson, my boy," cried he, "i'm glad to see you; and so is mrs. b. ain't you, em'ly?" whereupon em'ly said that she was delighted to see mr. robinson. "and you're just in time for as tidy a bit of roast veal as you won't see again in a hurry,--fed down at gogham by em'ly's mother. i killed it myself, with my own hands. didn't i, em'ly?" robinson stopped and partook of the viands which were so strongly recommended to him; and then, after dinner, he and brisket and the bride became very intimate and confidential over a glass of hot brandy-and-water. "i don't do this kind of thing, only when i've got a friend," said brisket, tapping the tumbler with his spoon. "but i really am glad to see you. i've took a fancy to you now, ever since you went so nigh throttling me. by jove! though, i began to think it was all up with me,--only for sarah jane." "but he didn't!" said emily, looking first at her great husband and then at robinson's slender proportions. "didn't he though? but he just did. and what do you think, em'ly? he wanted me once to sit with him on a barrel of gunpowder." "a barrel of gunpowder!" "and smoke our pipes there,--quite comfortable. and then he wanted me to go and fling ourselves into the river. that was uncommon civil, wasn't it? and then he well nigh choked me." "it was all about that young woman," said emily, with a toss of her head. "and from all i can hear tell, she wasn't worth fighting for. as for you, bill, i wonder at you; so i do." "i thought i saw my way," said brisket. "it's well for you that you've got somebody near you that will see better now. and as for you, mr. robinson; i hope you won't be long in the dumps, neither." whereupon he explained to her that he was by no means in the dumps. he had failed in trade, no doubt, but he was now engaged upon a literary work, as to which considerable expectation had been raised, and he fully hoped to provide for his humble wants in this way till he should be able to settle himself again to some new commercial enterprise. "it isn't that as she means," said brisket. "she means about taking a wife. that's all the women ever thinks of." "what i was saying is, that as you and bill were both after her, and as you are both broke with her, and seeing that bill's provided himself like--" "and a charming provision he has made," said robinson. "i did see my way," said brisket, with much self-content. "so you ought to look elsewhere as well as he," continued emily. "according to all accounts, you've neither of you lost so very much in not getting maryanne brown." "maryanne brown is a handsome young woman," said robinson. "why, she's as red as red," said mrs. brisket; "quite carroty, they tell me. and as for handsome, mr. robinson;--handsome is as handsome does; that's what i say. if i had two sweethearts going about talking of gunpowder, and throwing themselves into rivers along of me, i'd--i'd--i'd never forgive myself. so, mr. robinson, i hope you'll suit yourself soon. bill, don't you take any more of that brandy. don't now, when i tell you not." then robinson rose and took his leave, promising to make future visits to aldersgate street. and as brisket squeezed his hand at parting, all the circumstances of that marriage were explained in a very few words. "she had three hundred, down, you know;--really down. so i said done and done, when i found the money wasn't there with maryanne. and i think that i've seen my way." robinson congratulated him, and assured him that he thought he had seen it very clearly. chapter xxiv. george robinson's dream. george robinson, though his present wants were provided for by his pen, was by no means disposed to sink into a literary hack. it was by commerce that he desired to shine. it was to trade,--trade, in the highest sense of the word,--that his ambition led him. down at the crystal palace he had stood by the hour together before the statue of the great cheetham,--ominous name!--of him who three centuries ago had made money by dealing in manchester goods. why should not he also have his statue? but then how was he to begin? he had begun, and failed. with hopeful words he had declared to mr. brown that not on that account was he daunted; but still there was before him the burden of another commencement. many of us know what it is to have high hopes, and yet to feel from time to time a terrible despondency when the labours come by which those hopes should be realized. robinson had complained that he was impeded in his flight by brown and jones. those impediments had dropped from him now; and yet he knew not how to proceed upon his course. he walked forth one evening, after his daily task, pondering these things as he went. he made his solitary way along the kingsland road, through tottenham, and on to edmonton, thinking deeply of his future career. what had john gilpin done that had made him a citizen of renown? had he advertised? or had he contented himself simply with standing behind his counter till customers should come to him? in john gilpin's time the science of advertisement was not born;--or, if born, was in its earliest infancy. and yet he had achieved renown. and cheetham;--but probably cheetham had commenced with a capital. thus he walked on till he found himself among the fields,--those first fields which greet the eyes of a londoner, in which wheat is not grown, but cabbages and carrots for the london market; and here seating himself upon a gate, he gave his mind up to a close study of the subject. first he took from his pocket a short list which he always carried, and once more read over the names and figures which it bore. barlywig, £ , per annum. how did barlywig begin such an outlay as that? he knew that barlywig had, as a boy, walked up to town with twopence in his pocket, and in his early days, had swept out the shop of a shoemaker. the giants of trade all have done that. then he went on with the list:-- holloway . . . . £ , per annum. moses . . . . , " macassar oil . . , " dr. de jongh . . , " what a glorious fraternity! there were many others that followed with figures almost equally stupendous. revalenta arabica! bedsteads! paletots! food for cattle! but then how did these great men begin? he himself had begun with some money in his hand, and had failed. as to them, he believed that they had all begun with twopence. as for genius and special talent, it was admitted on all sides that he possessed it. of that he could feel no doubt, as other men were willing to employ him. "shall i never enjoy the fruits of my own labour?" said he to himself. "must i still be as the bee, whose honey is robbed from him as soon as made? the lofty rhyme i still must build, though other hands shall touch the money. will this be my fate for ever?-- the patient oxen till the furrows, but never eat the generous corn. shall the corn itself never be my own?" and as he sat there the words of poppins came upon his memory. "you advertising chaps never do anything. all that printing never makes the world any richer." at the moment he had laughed down poppins with absolute scorn; but now, at this solitary moment he began to reflect whether there might be any wisdom in his young friend's words. "the question has been argued," he continued in his soliloquy, "by the greatest philosopher of the age. a man goes into hats, and in order to force a sale, he builds a large cart in the shape of a hat, paints it blue, and has it drawn through the streets. he still finds that his sale is not rapid; and with a view of increasing it, what shall he do? shall he make his felt hats better, or shall he make his wooden hat bigger? poppins and the philosopher say that the former plan will make the world the richer, but they do not say that it will sell the greater number of hats. am i to look after the world? am i not to look to myself? is not the world a collection of individuals, all of whom are doing so? has anything been done for the world by the quixotic aspirations of general philanthropy, at all equal to that which individual enterprise has achieved? poppins and the philosopher would spend their energies on a good hat. but why? not that they love the head that is to wear it. the sale would still be their object. they would sell hats, not that the heads of men may be well covered, but that they themselves might live and become rich. to force a sale must be the first duty of a man in trade, and a man's first duty should be all in all to him. "if the hats sold from the different marts be not good enough, with whom does the fault rest? is it not with the customers who purchase them? am i to protect the man who demands from me a cheap hat? am i to say, 'sir, here is a cheap hat. it is made of brown paper, and the gum will run from it in the first shower. it will come to pieces when worn and disgrace you among your female acquaintances by becoming dinged and bulged?' should i do him good? he would buy his cheap hat elsewhere, and tell pleasant stories of the madman he had met. the world of purchasers will have cheap articles, and the world of commerce must supply them. the world of purchasers will have their ears tickled, and the world of commerce must tickle them. of what use is all this about adulteration? if mrs. jones will buy her sausages at a lower price per pound than pork fetches in the market, has she a right to complain when some curious doctor makes her understand that her viands have not been supplied exclusively from the pig? she insists on milk at three halfpence a quart; but the cow will not produce it. the cow cannot produce it at that price, unless she be aided by the pump; and therefore the pump aids her. if there be dishonesty in this, it is with the purchaser, not with the vendor,--with the public, not with the tradesman." but still as he sat upon the gate, thus arguing with himself, a dream came over him, a mist of thought as it were, whispering to him strangely that even yet he might be wrong. he endeavoured to throw it off, shaking himself as it were, and striving to fix his mind firmly upon his old principles. but it was of no avail. he knew he was awake; but yet he dreamed; and his dream was to him as a terrible nightmare. what if he were wrong! what if those two philosophers had on their side some truth! he would fain be honest if he knew the way. what if those names upon his list were the names of false gods, whose worship would lead him to a hell of swindlers instead of the bright heaven of commercial nobility! "barlywig is in parliament," he said to himself, over and over again, in loud tones, striving to answer the spirit of his dream. "in parliament! he sits upon committees; men jostle to speak to him; and he talks loud among the big ones of the earth. he spends forty thousand a year in his advertisements, and grows incredibly rich by the expenditure. men and women flock in crowds to his shop. he lives at albert gate in a house big enough for a royal duke, and is the lord of ten thousand acres in yorkshire. barlywig cannot have been wrong, let that philosopher philosophize as he will!" but still the dream was there, crushing him like a nightmare. "why don't you produce something, so as to make the world richer?" poppins had said. he knew well what poppins had meant by making the world richer. if a man invent a katakairion shirt, he does make the world richer; if it be a good one, he makes it much richer. but the man who simply says that he has done so adds nothing to the world's wealth. his answer had been that it was his work to sell the shirts, and that of the purchaser to buy them. let each look to his own work. if he could be successful in his selling, then he would have a right to be proud of his success. the world would be best served by close attention on the part of each to his own business. such had been the arguments with which he had silenced his friend and contented himself, while the excitement of the shop in bishopsgate street was continued; but now, as he sat there upon the gate, this dream came upon him, and he began to doubt. could it be that a man had a double duty, each separate from the other;--a duty domestic and private, requiring his devotion and loyalty to his wife, his children, his partners, and himself; and another duty, widely extended in all its bearings and due to the world in which he lived? could poppins have seen this, while he was blind? was a man bound to produce true shirts for the world's benefit even though he should make no money by so doing;--either true shirts or none at all? the evening light fell upon him as he still sat there on the gate, and he became very melancholy. "if i have been wrong," he said to himself, "i must give up the fight. i cannot begin again now and learn new precepts. after all that i have done with that old man's money, i cannot now own that i have been wrong, and commence again on a theory taught to me by poppins. if this be so, then farewell to commerce!" and as he said so, he dropped from his seat, and, leaning over the rail, hid his face within his hands. as he stood there, suddenly a sound struck his ears, and he knew that the bells of edmonton were ringing. the church was distant, but nevertheless the tones came sharp upon him with their clear music. they rang on quickly, loudly, and with articulate voice. surely there were words within those sounds. what was it they were saying to him? he listened for a few seconds, for a minute or two, for five minutes; and then his ear and senses had recognized the language--"turn again, robinson, member of parliament." he heard it so distinctly that his ear would not for a moment abandon the promise. the words could not be mistaken. "turn again, robinson, member of parliament." then he did turn, and walked back to london with a trusting heart. london: printed by smith, elder and co., old bailey, e.c. * * * * * * transcriber's note: obvious typographical errors have been corrected. chapter viii, paragraph . previously fame was attributed masculine gender. the reader might note the sentence in this paragraph: on that morrow he was more enterprising than ever, and it was then that he originated the idea of the four men in armour, and of fame with her classical horn and gilded car. specific changes in wording of the text are listed below. chapter xii, paragraph . the word "partners" was changed to "partner" in the sentence: and might it not be well for her to forget that other samson, and once more to trust herself to her father's partner? chapter xvi, paragraph . the order of the words "was it" was inverted in the sentence: why was it, that at this eventful period of robinson's existence mrs. poppins should have turned against him? generously made available by the internet archive/canadian libraries) _the weinstock lectures on the morals of trade_ the conflict between private monopoly and good citizenship. by john graham brooks. commercialism and journalism. by hamilton holt. the business career in its public relations. by albert shaw. commercialism and journalism by hamilton holt managing editor of the independent boston and new york houghton mifflin company _the riverside press cambridge_ copyright, , by the regents of the university of california all rights reserved _published december _ barbara weinstock lectures on the morals of trade this series will contain essays by representative scholars and men of affairs dealing with the various phases of the moral law in its bearing on business life under the new economic order, first delivered at the university of california on the weinstock foundation. commercialism and journalism in the united states of america, public opinion prevails. it is an axiom of the old political economy, as well as of the new sociology, that no man, or set of men, may with impunity defy public opinion; no law can be enforced contrary to its behests; and even life itself is scarcely worth living without its approbation. public opinion is the ultimate force that controls the destiny of our democracy. by common consent we editors are called the "moulders of public opinion." writing in our easy chairs or making suave speeches over the walnuts and wine, we take scrupulous care to expatiate on this phase of our function. but the real question is: who "moulds" us? for assuredly the hand that moulds the editor moulds the world. i propose to discuss this evening the ultimate power in control of our journals. and this as you will see implies such vital questions as: are we editors free to say what we believe? do we believe what we say? do we fool all the people some of the time, some of the people all the time, or only ourselves? is advertising or circulation--profits or popularity--our secret solicitude? or do we follow faithfully the stern daughter of the voice of god? in short, is journalism a profession or a business? there are almost as many answers to these questions as there are people to ask them. there are those of us who jubilantly burst into poetry, singing:-- "here shall the press the people's rights maintain, unawed by influence and unbribed by gain." on the other hand there are some of us quite ready to corroborate from our own experience the confessions of one new york journalist who wrote:-- there is no such thing in america as an independent press. i am paid for keeping honest opinions out of the paper i am connected with. if i should allow honest opinions to be printed in one issue of my paper, before twenty-four hours my occupation, like othello's, would be gone. the business of a new york journalist is to distort the truth, to lie outright, to pervert, to vilify, to fawn at the foot of mammon, and to sell his country and his race for his daily bread. we are the tools or vassals of the rich men behind the scenes. our time, our talents, our lives, our possibilities, are all the property of other men. we are intellectual prostitutes. i come to california, therefore, to tell you with all sincerity and candor the real conditions under which we editors do our work, and the forces that help and hinder us in the discharge of our duties to society and to the journals that we control or that control us. and, first, let me give you succinctly some idea of the magnitude of the industry that we are to discuss. the census, in its latest bulletin on "printing and publishing in the united states," truly and tritely remarks that "printing occupies a unique position among industries, and in certain aspects excels all others in interest, since the printed page has done more to advance civilization than any other human agency." but not only does the printing industry excel all other industries in human interest, it excels them in the relative progress it is making. the latest available figures, published in by the government, show that the capital invested in the publishing business had doubled in the preceding half decade, despite the fact that publishing is almost unique among industries in the diffusion of its establishments, and in the tenacity with which it still clings to competition in an age of combination. since the whole industry has increased over thirty-fold, while all other industries have increased only fifteen-fold. the number of publications in the country, as given, is , . these are capitalized at $ , , ; they employ , salaried officers, and , wage-earners. their aggregate circulation per issue is , , ; and their aggregate number of copies issued during the year is , , , . they consume , , tons of paper, manufactured from , acres of timber. these , periodicals receive $ , , , or per cent of their receipts, from advertising, and $ , , , or per cent of the receipts from sales and subscriptions. they are divided into dailies, of which about one third are issued in the morning and two thirds in the evening; , weeklies; monthlies, and a few bi-weeklies, semi-weeklies, quarterlies, etc. the number of these periodicals has doubled in the last twenty-five years, but at the present moment the monthlies are increasing the fastest, next, the weeklies, and last, the dailies. the dailies issue enough copies to supply every inhabitant of the united states with one every fourth issue, the weeklies with one every other issue, and the monthlies with one copy of each issue for nine months of the year. one third of all these papers are devoted to trade and special interests. the remaining two thirds are devoted to news, politics, and family reading. undoubtedly there are many contributing causes which have made the periodical industry grow faster than all other industries of the country. i shall mention only six. first. the cheapening of the postal, telephone, and telegraph rates, and the introduction of such conveniences as the rural free delivery, so that news and general information can be collected and distributed cheaply and with dispatch. second. the introduction of the linotype machines, rapid and multiple presses, and other mechanical devices, which vastly increase the output of every shop that adopts them. third. the photo-process of illustrating, which threatens to make wood- and steel-engraving a lost art, and which, on account of its cheapness and attractiveness, has made possible literally thousands of pictured publications that never could have existed before. fourth. the growing diffusion of education throughout the country. our high schools, to say nothing of our colleges and universities, alone graduate , pupils a year,--all of them fit objects of solicitude to the newsdealer and subscription-agent. fifth. the use of wood pulp in the manufacture of paper, by which the largest item in the cost of production has been greatly diminished. sixth. the phenomenal growth of advertising. i shall not attempt to amplify the first five of these causes responsible for the unparalleled growth of periodical literature. but the sixth i shall discuss at some length, for advertising is by all odds the greatest factor in the case. in olden times the dailies carried only a very little advertising--a few legal notices, an appeal for the return of a strayed cow, or a house for sale. it is only within the past fifty years that advertising as a means of bringing together the producer and consumer began. and, curiously enough, the men who first began to appreciate the immense selling-power that lay in the printed advertisement were "makers" or "fakirs," of patent medicines. the beginning of modern advertising is in fact synchronous with the beginnings of the patent-medicine business. even magazine advertising, which is now the most profitable and efficacious of all kinds, did not originate until february, , when "the atlantic monthly" printed its first "ad." "harper's" was founded simply as a medium for selling the books issued from the franklin square house, and all advertisements from outsiders were declined. george p. rowell, the dean of advertising agents, in his amusing autobiography, tells how harper & brothers in the early seventies refused an offer of $ , from the howe sewing machine company for a year's use of the last page of the magazine; and mr. rowell adds that he had this information from a member of the firm, of whose veracity he had no doubt, though at the same sitting he heard mr. harper tell another man about the peculiarities of that section of long island where the harpers originated, assuring him the ague prevailed there to such an extent that all his ancestors had quinine put into their graves to keep the corpses from shaking the sand off. before the civil war it is said that the largest advertisement that ever appeared in a newspaper was given by the e. & t. fairbanks company, and published in the new york "tribune," which charged $ for it. now the twenty large department stores alone of new york city spend, so it is estimated, $ , , a year for advertising, while one chicago house is said to appropriate $ , a year for publicity in order to sell $ , , worth of goods. those products which are believed to be advertised to the extent of $ , or more a year include the uneeda biscuits, royal baking powder, grape nuts, force, fairy soap and gold dust, swift's hams and bacon, the ralston mills food-products, sapolio, ivory soap, and armour's extract of beef. the railroads are also very large general advertisers. in they spent over a million and a quarter dollars in publicity, though this did not include free passes for editors, who, i may parenthetically remark, thanks to the recent hepburn act, are now forced to pay their way across the continent just like ordinary american citizens. it is computed that there are about , general advertisers in the country and about a million local advertisers. between the two, $ , , was spent in to get their products before the public. the census gives only the totals and does not classify the advertising that appears in the dailies, weeklies, and monthlies. the rev. cyrus townsend brady, however, has made a very illuminating study[ ] of the advertising and circulation conditions of of the leading monthly magazines published in the united states. the first thing that struck his attention was the fact that candid and courteous replies to his requests for information were vouchsafed by all the publishers--quite a contrast to what would have happened from a similar inquiry a generation ago. he next discovered that these magazines, which had an aggregate circulation of over , , copies per month, could put a full-page advertisement into the hands of , , readers, or seven times the population of the united states, for the astonishingly insignificant sum of $ , , or for two thousandths of a cent for each reader. [ ] _the critic_, august, . the amount paid by the purchasers of these magazines was $ , , , for which they received , pages of text and pictures, and , pages of advertisements. magazine advertisements are better written and better illustrated than the reading matter. this is because they are of no use to the man who pays for their insertion if they do not attract attention, whereas the contributor's interest in his article after its acceptance is mostly nominal. that is, the advertiser must win several thousand readers; the contributor has to win but one editor. these magazines were found to receive $ , , a year from their advertisements and $ , , from their sales and subscriptions. this shows that in monthly magazines the receipts from advertising and subscriptions are about the same. in weeklies the receipts from advertising are often four times as much as the receipts from sales and subscriptions, while in the dailies the proportion is even greater. the owner of one of the leading evening papers in new york told me that per cent of its total receipts came from advertising. from whatever standpoint you approach the subject, it is the advertisements that are becoming the most important factor in publishing. indeed, some students in yale university carried this out to its logical conclusion last autumn by launching a college daily supported wholly by the revenues from advertisements. they put a free copy every morning on the door-mat before each student's room. if it were not for the postal prohibition many dailies and other periodicals would make money by being given away. thus you see that if there were no advertisements and the publishers had to rely on their sales and subscriptions for their receipts, the monthlies would have to double their price, and the weeklies and dailies multiply theirs from four to ten times. this advantage to the reading public must certainly be put to the credit of advertising. the preponderance of advertising over subscription receipts, however, is of comparatively recent occurrence. thirty years ago the receipts from subscriptions and sales of all the american periodicals exceeded those from advertising by $ , , ; twenty years ago they were about equal; and to-day the advertising exceeds the subscriptions and sales by $ , , . in the total amount of advertising was equivalent to the expenditure of cents for every inhabitant in the united states; in it was $ . . on the other hand, the per capita value of subscriptions has increased hardly at all. the reason of this is the fall of the price of subscriptions. we take more papers but pay less--a cent a copy. comparatively few buy the new york "evening post" for three cents. this is all the more remarkable, because advertising is the most sensitive feature of a most sensitive business and is sure to suffer first in any industrial crisis or depression. no wonder that the man who realizes the significance of all these figures and the trend disclosed by them is coming to look upon the editorial department of the newspaper as merely a necessary means of giving a literary tone to the publication, thus helping business men get their wares before the proper people. mr. trueman a. deweese, in his recent significant volume, "practical publicity," thinks that this is about what mr. curtis, the proprietor of "the ladies' home journal," would say if he ventured to say what he really thought:-- it is not my primary purpose to edify, entertain, or instruct a million women with poems, stories, and fashion-hints. mr. bok may think it is. he is merely the innocent victim of a harmless delusion, and he draws a salary for being deluded. to be frank and confidential with you, "the ladies' home journal" is published expressly for the advertisers. the reason i can put something in the magazines that will catch the artistic eye and make glad the soul of the reader is because a good advertiser finds that it pays to give me $ a page, or $ an agate line, for advertising space. yes, the tremendous power of advertising is the most significant thing about modern journalism. it is advertising that has enabled the press to outdistance its old rivals, the pulpit and the platform, and thus become the chief ally of public opinion. it has also economized business by bringing the producer and consumer into more direct contact, and in many cases has actually abolished the middle man and drummer. as an example of the passing of the salesman, due to advertising, "the saturday evening post" of philadelphia, in its interesting series of articles on modern advertising exploits, recently told the story of how the n. h. fairbanks co. made a test of the relative value of advertising and salesmen. a belt of counties in illinois were set aside for the experiment, in which the company was selling a certain brand of soap by salesmen and making a fair profit. it was proposed that the identical soap be put up under another brand and advertised in a conservative way in this particular section, and at the same time the salesmen should continue their efforts with the old soap. within six months the advertised brand was outselling its rival at the rate of $ a year. the douglas shoe is another product that is sold entirely by general advertising. so successful has the business become that the company has established retail stores all over the country, in which only men's shoes are sold at $ . a pair. now other shoe-manufacturers have adopted this plan, and in most of our large cities there are several chains of rival retail shoe stores. but all the advertising is not in the advertising columns. a united states senator said last winter that, when a bill he introduced in the senate was up for discussion, the publicity given it through an article he wrote for "the independent" had more to do with its passage than anything he said in its behalf on the floor of the upper house;--that is, his article was a paying advertisement of the bill. and in mentioning the incident to you, i give "the independent" a good advertisement. universities advertise themselves in many and devious ways--sometimes by the remarkable utterances of their professors, as at chicago; sometimes by the victories of their athletes, as at yale; and sometimes by the treatment of their women students, as at wesleyan. but perhaps the most extraordinary case of university advertising that has come to my attention was when, not so very long ago, a certain state institution of the middle west bought editorials in the country press at advertising rates for the sole purpose of influencing the state legislature to make them a larger appropriation. in other words the university authorities took money forced from a reluctant legislature to make the legislature give them still more money. the charitable organizations are now beginning to advertise in the public press for donations, and even churches are falling into line. the rev. charles stelzle, one of the most conspicuous leaders of the presbyterian church, has just published a book entitled "principles of successful church advertising," in which he says:-- from all parts of the world there come stories of losses in [church] membership, either comparative or actual. in the face of this, dare the church sit back and leave untried a single method which may win men to christ, provided that this method be legitimate?... the church should advertise because of the greatness of its commission, "go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature." to fulfill this command does not mean that christian men are to confine themselves to the methods of those who first heard the commission. the question whether advertising pays will never be known in the individual case, for, like marriage, you can't tell till you try it. but in the aggregate, also like marriage, there is no doubt of its value. the tremendous power of persistent advertising to carry an idea of almost any kind into the minds of the people and stamp it there, is amazing. how many "sunny jims," for instance, are there in this audience? if there are none, it is singular; for learned judges have referred to him in their decisions, sermons have been preached, and volumes written about him, though it took a million dollars and two years of persistent work to introduce this modern "mark tapley" to the public. have you a little fairy in your home? do you live in spotless town? do you use any of the varieties? "there's a reason." "that's all." formerly a speaker used a quotation from the bible or shakespeare when he wanted to strike a common chord. nowadays he works in an allusion to some advertising phrase, and is sure of instant and universal recognition. the socialists and other utopian critics, who are supposed to drill to the bedrock of questions, have looked upon advertising as essentially a parasite upon the production and distribution of wealth. they tell us that in the good time coming, advertising will be relegated to the scrap-heap of outworn social machinery, along with war, race prejudice, millionaires, the lower education of women, and other things of an undesirable nature. this has not been the experience, however, of those "sinister offenders" who have come nearest to the coöperative ownership of wealth in this country--i refer of course to "the trusts." when the breakfast food trust was formed, one of the chief reasons for the combination was that the rival companies thus hoped to save the cost of advertising that had hitherto been required when they sold their food-stuffs in competition with each other. but they very soon found that their sales fell off after they stopped advertising, and they kept on falling off until the advertising was resumed. this teaches us that the american people have not enough gumption to buy even the staple products they need except through the stimulus of hypnotic suggestion--which is nothing but another name for advertising. even such a benevolent institution as a great life insurance company could not get much new business on its own merits. if all the money now spent on agents' commissions, advertising, yellow-dog funds, and palatial offices were devoted sacredly to the reduction of the rates of insurance, probably fewer rather than more persons would insure. the american people have to pay to be told what is good for them, otherwise they would soon abolish editors, professors, and all the rest of us who get paid for preaching what others practice. now while advertising pays the consumer who buys, the advertiser who sells, and the publisher who brings both together, there is a limit to the amount of advertising which can be "carried" by a certain amount of reading matter. in newspapers we see the result of this in the vast sunday editions, with sometimes fifty or a hundred detachable pages. in the magazines the case is different. interesting and attractive as magazine advertising has become--it certainly should be so, considering the advertisers pay good money to put it before the people--it is not enough alone to sell a magazine, and when it forms more than half or two thirds of the number the issue becomes too bulky and the value of the advertising pages themselves decreases. in making sandwiches the ham must not be sliced too thin. that necessitates starting a new magazine; and so we find from three to a dozen periodicals issued by the same house, often similar in character and apparently rivals. this accounts for the multiplication of magazines. it is not a yearning for more love stories. thus you see advertising has made possible the great complex papers and magazines of the day with their corps of trained editors, reporters, and advertising writers, in numbers and intellectual calibre comparable with the faculty of a good-sized university. advertising makes it possible to issue a paper far below the cost of manufacturing--all to the benefit of the consumer. so far as i know there is not an important daily, weekly, or monthly in america that can be manufactured at the selling price. but, on the other hand, with the growth of advertising a department had to be created in every paper for its handling. as advertising still further increased, rival papers competed for it and the professional solicitor became a necessary adjunct of every paper, until now the advertising department is the most important branch of the publication business, for it is the real source of the profits. because the solicitor seeks the advertiser, and, therefore, is in the position of one asking for favors, he puts himself under obligations to the advertiser, and so in his keenness to bring in revenue for his paper, he is often tempted to ask the aid of the editor in appeasing the advertiser. thus the advertiser tends to control the policy of the paper. and this is the explanation of the condition that confronts most publications to-day. by throwing the preponderating weight of commercialism into the scales of production, advertising is at the present moment by far the greatest menace to the disinterested practice of a profession upon which the diffusion of intelligence most largely depends. if journalism is no longer a profession, but a commercial enterprise, it is due to the growth of advertising, and nothing else. there was a time, not so very long ago, when journalism was on the verge of developing a system of professional ethics, based on other considerations than those of the cash register. then a greeley, bowles, medill, dana, or raymond, with a hand-press and a printer's devil, could start a paper as good as any university consisting of mark hopkins, a student, and a log. in those days the universal question was, "what does old greeley have to say?" because old greeley was the ultimate source of his own utterances. imagine the rage he would have flown into if any one had dared insinuate that the advertisers dictated a single sentence in "the tribune"! but now the advertisers are aggressive. they are becoming organized. they look upon the giving of an advertisement to a publisher as something of a favor, for which they have a right to expect additional courtesies in the news and editorial columns. advertising is also responsible for the fact that our papers are no longer organs but organizations. the individuality of the great editor, once supreme, has become less and less a power, till finally it vanishes into mere innocuous anonymity. to show you how far the editor has receded into public obscurity, it is only necessary to try to recall the portrayal of a modern editor in a recent play. stage lawyers, stage physicians, and stage preachers abound; when you think of them your mind calls up a very definite image. but no one has yet attempted to portray the typical editor, and it is doubtful if the populace would recognize him if he were portrayed, for the modern editor is a mystery. despite the editorial impersonality which controls modern newspapers, the editors still touch life in more points than any other class of men. and for this reason, if for no other, it is important to know the limitations under which they work. i leave aside the limitations that come from within the editor himself; for manifestly ignorance, prejudice, venality and the like, in the editor are in no wise different from similar faults in other men. there are just two temptations, however, peculiar to the editor, that tend to limit his freedom: first, the fear of the advertisers, and second, the fear of the subscribers. the advertisers when offended stop their advertisements; the readers, their subscriptions. the editor who is afraid to offend both must make a colorless paper indeed. he must discuss only those things about which every one agrees or nobody cares. the attitude of such an editor to his readers is, "gape, sinner, and swallow," and to his advertisers, as senator brandegee said at a recent yale commencement in regard to a proposed rockefeller bequest, "bring on your tainted money." as a rule, the yellows are most in awe of the mob, while the so-called respectables fear the advertising interests. now let me take up in some detail the influences brought to bear upon us which tend to make us swerve from the straight and narrow path. i invite your attention first of all to the press agent, that indispensable adjunct of all projects that have something to gain or to fear from publicity. i have seen the claim made in print, though doubtless it is a press agent's story, that there are ten thousand press agents in the city of new york,--that is, men and women employed to boom people and enterprises in the papers and magazines. you are familiar with the theatrical press agent, the most harmless, jovial, inventive, and resourceful of his kind. he is the one who writes the articles signed by grand opera singers which appear in the magazines. it is he who gets up stories about miss "pansy pinktoes," her milk-baths, the loss of her diamonds, the rich men who follow her. it is he who got for me an interview with a filipino chief at coney island three summers ago, whose unconventional remarks and original philosophy on america and the inhabitants thereof startled me no less than our readers. when the press agent has no news, he manufactures it. the readers of the new york papers the other day read that a prominent socialist, who occupied a box in the theatre where a play was given in which socialism is attacked, stood up and offered to harangue the audience between the acts. the actor who played the rôle of the wicked capitalist came on the stage and invited the audience to vote whether they cared to hear the socialist or him. the audience thereupon voted both down. but the management the next sunday evening very kindly offered the use of the stage for a debate on socialism, to which the leading socialists and anti-socialists of the city were invited. the meeting was a great success, and all the reporters in town were present, just as by some singular coincidence they happened to be on the first night. one of our most successful operatic managers--impressario, i believe, is the more correct appellation--was about to produce the opera of "salome," which had been taken off the rival stage after its first performance, on the assumption that new york was shocked. the singer was not only to sing the part, if one can sing a strauss opera, but was also to dance it. finally, about a week before the opera was produced, a new soprano was engaged to sing another rôle hitherto taken by the prospective salome. instantly the dread headlines on all the front pages of the metropolitan press announced that miss garden would resign before madame cavalieri should sing in any of _her_ rôles. mr. hammerstein's "eyes twinkled," as the reporters besieged him. he said he guessed he could untangle matters. out of the kindness of his heart he had thought the rehearsals of "salome" were too fatiguing for miss garden, and so got assistance for her. after a three or four days' operatic war, in which literally columns of printers' ink was shed, the _entente cordiale_ was resumed, and the song-birds became doves of peace again. the new york "evening post" printed the next day an editorial entitled, "genius in advertising"; and a week later the opera, or rather the song and dance of "salome," was given, with seats selling at ten dollars apiece, and "standing room only" signs at the box-office. this desire for publicity on the part of the histrionic profession goes so far, that often absolute fakes are sent out to the poor, unsuspecting editor. here is a statement that was printed, let us hope in good faith, in one of the brooklyn papers not long ago. it referred to the leading lady in a popular stock company. miss s. has a remarkably fine collection of miniatures painted on ivory. her attention was attracted to them several years ago by a miniature of one of her ancestors, painted by edward greene malbone, which came into her possession. the delicate quality of the painter's art that was of necessity lavished upon the ivory pleased her as an amateur and she began to collect. miss s. has haunted the antique shops of manhattan and brooklyn during the few leisure moments that came to her, in her search after miniatures. she now owns something like one hundred examples of famous miniatures. one of her greatest treasures is a portrait of john dray, by that master-painter of miniatures, richard cosway. the publication of this article brought such a number of requests from the friends of miss s. to see her collection, that the ingenious press agent was obliged to invent and publish another fabrication--this time of a midnight robbery in which the collection disappeared. this shameless story was told me by the press agent himself, and he gave me from his scrap-book the fake clipping i have just read. similarly the imitation riots, and protests from delegations of negroes, where thomas dixon's ku-klux play, "the clansman," was to be produced, were often due to the initiative of the enterprising press agent--at least so he told me. i would not have you think, however, that the press bureau is not in many instances a perfectly legitimate institution, and cannot be used with all propriety by religious, reform, political, and other organizations. the woman's suffrage movement, for instance, has a well-equipped and organized bureau; while the two great political parties during campaign times have sent out for many years news-articles and editorials of great value to the country and partisan press. perhaps the most efficacious press bureau of the legitimate kind is that of the christian scientists. every time an editor prints anything derogatory to the rev. mary baker g. eddy, or her influential cult, a suave and professionally happy gentleman immediately sends his card into the sanctum, and, holding the offensive clipping in one hand, together with a brief and well-written reply, says with the utmost courtesy:-- "inasmuch, my good sir, as you deemed it worth while to devote so much of your valuable space to spreading broadcast before your intelligent audience an error about christian science, i feel sure that your sense of justice will make plain to you the privilege of giving us space to demonstrate the real truth of the matter." to the editor with a conscience--and some of us still have the vestiges of one--this is a hard argument to evade; and as a result christian science gets twice as much notice in the papers as it would were there no smiling press agent to follow up every unfavorable reference, no matter how obscure the publication. the next time the editor wants to point a jest at the expense of christian science, he thinks twice and then substitutes some other cause that does not employ an editorial rectifier. but perhaps the best use of a publicity bureau was made recently by the street-railway company of roanoke, virginia, and the water company of scranton, pennsylvania. both of these companies had become very unpopular, one as a result of poor street-car service, and the other on account of a typhoid epidemic supposed to have been started from the pollution of the company's reservoir. both companies appropriated a good sum of money, hired a press agent, and bought advertising space in the local papers every day for a month or more. these advertisements gave the companies' side of the case with such candor and convincing fairness that they soon became the talk of the town, personal letters were written to the papers about them, and the hostility toward them very quickly turned to a feeling of good-will. it pays to take the public into your confidence. and now the staid "rail-road age-gazette" has sounded the call for a great press agent to arise and stem the growing public hostility to the railroads. the "age-gazette" did not use the phrase "press agent," as the appellation has not as yet come into its full dignity. it employed the more euphonious term "railroad diplomatist." still, high-sounding titles have their use, as when some of my brother editors call their "reporters" "special commissioners," and their foreign correspondents "journalistic ambassadors." we had a peace and arbitration congress in new york two years ago. being chairman of the press committee, i employed a firm of press agents to get for us the maximum amount of publicity. as a result we received over ten thousand clippings from the papers of the united states alone. i do not mean to claim that the congress would not have been extensively noticed without the deft work of the agents; but they unquestionably helped a great deal. the newspapers welcome them when they represent such well-known philanthropic institutions as the peace society, the society for prevention of cruelty to animals, and the people's institute, because the copy they "turn in" requires little or no further editing before it is sent to the printer. but when they are employed to promote financial ventures, wars on labor unions, anti-municipal ownership campaigns, or other private and class interests, then the editors discount what they provide and they actually do more harm than good to the cause they are intended to promote. press agents, however, are sometimes enabled to get illegitimate matter into our best papers. i recall to your memory the reports favorable to the companies sent out during the great insurance investigations in new york. "collier's" has told the whole story.[ ] one of the agents employed testified on the witness-stand that a great insurance company agreed to pay a dollar a line for what he could get into the papers. he made his own arrangements with the journals that took his stuff, and the difference between the price he had to pay and the dollar a line he got from the insurance company was to be his private rake-off. he succeeded in securing the publication of six dispatches of about two hundred and fifty words, in such well-known newspapers as the st. paul "pioneer press," the boston "herald," the toledo "blade," the buffalo "courier," the florida "times-union," the atlanta "constitution," and the wilmington "news." it is only fair to state, however, that there was nothing in the evidence to show whether the papers went into the arrangement on a business basis, or were fooled into thinking the dispatches they published were genuine reports of the proceedings before the committee. [ ] _collier's_, nov. , . examples of the use of press agents for both legitimate and illegitimate purposes could be extended almost indefinitely. the standard oil company, i understand, now issues all its manifestoes to the public through a trained press-representative; and the fight against messrs. gompers, mitchell, and morrison, in the buck stove controversy, was conducted with the aid of a press bureau, as one of the lawyers in the case informed me. whenever such a question comes before the people as the choice between the nicaragua and panama routes for the interoceanic canal, a press bureau is usually an important factor in the campaign. the big navy craze and the japan war cry can hardly be accounted for except on the theory that it has been for somebody's interest to agitate them through the press. whenever the naval appropriation bill comes before congress, the far-eastern war-clouds threaten in thousands of newspaper sanctums, while all of us shudder at the danger of war, for the benefit of ordnance manufacturers, battleship builders, and every incipient "fighting bob" who hopes some day to command another american armada on its gastronomic voyage around the world. fortunately none of our papers are subsidized by the government itself, as is so often the case with the semi-official organs of europe. nor are any of our papers directly in the pay of foreign governments, though the espousal of the infamous reactionary régime in russia by some of them is at least open to suspicion. the danger of manufactured public opinion in this country comes not from governments. even the political parties are losing the allegiance of the press. the days when the republican organs told the people the worst republican was better than the best democrat, and the democratic papers said the same about the republicans, have happily passed, never to return again, though the spirit still lingers in the organs of the socialist, populist, and prohibition parties. the growth of the great politically-independent press is one of the most hopeful signs of the times. but we have only jumped out of the frying-pan of politics into the fire of commercialism, and the fight of the future will therefore be to extricate ourselves from the fetters of commercialism, just as we have already broken away from the bonds of party politics. but the press agent has come to stay. indeed, his business has now assumed such proportions that the profession of anti-press agent will doubtless soon come into existence. i know already of one gentleman in new york whose aid has been invoked when people want things kept out of the papers. on more than one occasion he has prevented good spicy bits of scandal from seeing the light; though in his case i can aver that it was his personal influence with the editors, rather than any improper lubricant, that kept the papers silent. now let me turn from the press agent to the advertiser as a twister of editorial opinion. here let me say at once, and with all emphasis, that the vast majority of advertisements are not only honest but dependable. leaving out of account a few stock phrases which deceive nobody, such as "the most for the money," "the cheapest in the market," etc., what is said about the goods to be sold is not in the least overdrawn. i have taken the pains to go over the advertising columns of the leading papers and periodicals of new york during the month of february, and, with the exception of a few medical, financial, and perhaps real-estate advertisements, i could find absolutely nothing that on the face of it seemed fraudulent, and very little that was misleading. the advertisers have at last come to realize that for the long run, whatever the rule may be for the short run, it does not pay to overstate the qualities of their merchandise. you can now order your purchases by mail from the advertising pages of any reputable publication about as safely as over the counter of a store. at all events the phenomenal growth of the mail-order houses and their sales through advertising, lend strength to this opinion. on the th of march, , a single chicago mail-order house sent to the post office six million catalogues, weighing four hundred and fifty tons, and all were to be distributed within a week. many periodicals now claim that they will not take advertisements that look fraudulent or even misleading. some papers, like the london "times," have a guaranteed list of advertisements which they have investigated and vouch for, though naturally the advertisers have to pay extra for the guarantee. "the sunday school times" printed, several weeks ago, a long list of secular papers that were "going dry," as so many of our southern states. the fact that our best periodicals no longer accept liquor advertisements is another one of the encouraging signs of the coming of the new journalism. the vigorous fight that "the ladies' home journal" and "collier's" waged against the patent-medicine concerns is too fresh in the public memory to need recounting here. the two pictures printed cheek by jowl in "the ladies' home journal,"--one, of the tombstone above the mortal remains of lydia e. pinkham, whose inscription showed that she had been dead since , and the other an advertisement representing lydia in , sitting in her laboratory at lynn, massachusetts, engrossed in assuaging the sufferings of ailing womanhood,--these are eloquent of the type of fraud perpetrated through the press upon a gullible public. similarly, in the negro papers the favorite advertisements are those that claim to straighten kinky hair and bleach complexions--all fakes, of course. perhaps the most fraudulent advertisements, however, are those which purpose to sell mines in brazil, mexico, alaska, or wherever else the investor is unlikely to go. these offer their shares often as low as ten cents each, and guarantee fabulous profits. i have a college classmate who is extensively interested in mexican mines, and he tells me that literally per cent of all the mining companies that float their shares through advertisements are pure, or rather impure, swindles. i am not in the least surprised, for i know how many letters come to a financial editor from the dupes of these slick mine promoters, asking advice as to how they can get their money back. the most demoralizing advertisements are those paid for by loan-sharks, clairvoyants, medical quacks, and the votaries of vice. the new york "herald" has recently stopped printing its vicious personals. it also refuses fortune-tellers the hospitality of its columns, though it is not so squeamish in regard to loan-agencies and patent medicines. how many papers still publish the advertisement of mrs. laudanum's soothing syrup for babies? when you remember that the proprietary medicine concerns have been accustomed to spend forty million dollars a year, which is distributed among the papers of the land, you can see that it requires considerable financial independence for a publisher to forego a taste of their patronage. it is a curious fact that, aside from the country weeklies, the papers most plentifully besprinkled with medical advertisements are the yellow journals, the religious weeklies, the socialistic and other propaganda organs, and in general those which preach most vociferously reform and the brotherhood of man. the danger from the advertising columns is not, as i have said, that the advertisements misrepresent the goods, but that the terms on which they are solicited tend to commercialize the whole tone of the paper and make the editor afraid to say what he believes. the advertiser is coming more and more to look on his patronage as a favor, and he seldom hesitates to withdraw his advertisement if anything appears that may injure his business or interfere with his personal fad or political ambition. let me give you some examples of the withdrawal of advertisements to punish too daring and independent editors. a few weeks ago the paper which, in my opinion, has the ablest editorial page in the country lost some very valuable musical advertising because it had published letters of a decidedly compromising nature, written by a man high in the musical world to a lady who was suing him for damages. another paper, which many consider the brightest in america, discharged its dramatic critic after a theatrical firm had taken out all their advertising. but strange to say, as soon as a new critic was engaged, the advertising was forthwith resumed. i refrain from giving the name of this newspaper because one brave and witty little weekly published the story with names and dates, and is now being sued for libel. "life" states that in cincinnati, lately, every theatrical advertisement in all other newspapers carried this line:-- "we do not advertise in 'the times-star.'" the paralyzing power of advertising is again exemplified in the case of a new york evening paper which was so much interested in the popularization of bicycles that it organized the first bicycle parade ever held in the city. just before the day of the parade, however, it printed an article telling the people that it cost only some fifteen or twenty dollars to manufacture bicycles that sold at from seventy-five to one hundred and twenty-five dollars. instantly all the bicycle advertising was withdrawn, and the paper lost thousands of dollars. the new york "evening post" some years ago offended the department stores by some utterance it made about the tariff, and they withdrew their advertising. the "evening post," instead of quietly backing down, started in to fight single-handed, calling on the public for aid. the personal friends of the editor, mr. godkin, and a few loyal readers rallied to its support, and threatened to boycott the stores. but the public as a whole and all the "post's" esteemed contemporaries, as might have been anticipated, enjoyed the conflict from a safe distance and minded their own business. the department stores not only refused to make terms, but in some instances carried the war into the enemy's territory by stopping the credit accounts of those customers who took the "post's" side. it was only after a very great financial loss and many years of estrangement, that most of the stores came back to the "post," and it was long before the old relations of cordiality were entirely reëstablished. the department stores are seldom or never referred to unfavorably by the new york papers. when an elevator falls down in an office-building and somebody is injured, the headlines ring to heaven. a similar catastrophe in a department store is considered of hardly sufficient human interest to publish. the name and shame of a woman caught shoplifting in a department store can seldom be kept out of the papers. a department store caught overworking and underpaying its sales-girls--well, that is of no public concern. one of the most striking articles i ever printed recounted the experiences of a sales-girl in one of new york's department stores, yet it was unnoticed by the new york papers, which are quick enough to republish and comment on such articles when we print them, as "graft in panama," "peonage in georgia," or "race-prejudice in california." four years ago, in our annual vacation number, we advised our readers to go back to their boyhood village, buy the old homestead, and take a vacation on the farm, abjuring the summer hotels with their temptations to spend money, their vapidities and artificialities, manufactured lovers' lanes, and old cats on the piazza. this so offended a few hotels that they have never since advertised in "the independent." i will not tell you their names, but you can find out by noticing what hotels are not represented in our advertising pages. three years ago i printed the life-story of a girl then on strike in a factory. it was a simple, straightforward autobiography, giving the employés' side of the case. although we printed subsequently--as we are always glad to do--a statement from the company giving their side of the controversy, we must still be on their "we don't patronize" list, judging by the amount of advertising with which they have since favored us. other papers have suffered still more, i understand, from the same factory. the great book-publishing firms are about the only class of advertisers i know of who do not directly or indirectly seem to object to have their wares damned in the editorial pages. whether they have attained more than other men to the christian ideal of turning the other cheek; whether they think that nobody pays any attention to a scathing book-review, or whether they hold that the "best seller" is the offspring of hostile criticism, i do not know. but again and again we denounce books in our literary department that the publishers pay good money to praise in the advertising pages of the same issue. i know of only one prominent publishing firm which is an exception to this rule in that it sometimes attempts to influence the reviews of its books by means of its patronage. but with the small book-houses this happy relationship does not always exist. it would surprise you to know how many of them badger and threaten us. some, i understand, have a rule not to advertise where their books are not indiscriminately puffed. it is a poor maxim, however, that won't shoot both ways; for i am sorry to report that some papers adopt the equally bad rule of not reviewing the books of these firms who do not keep an advertising account with them. i once dined at a public banquet where the guests were both whites and negroes, and made some harmless and well-meaning remarks. a philadelphia advertiser subsequently said he would never do business with a paper that employed such an editor. last year an insurance company withdrew its advertising from the columns of a great weekly because it repeated a disagreeable truth about one of its directors. recently san francisco has gone through one of the most important struggles for civic betterment ever waged in an american city. the whole nation stood at attention. the issue was clear and unequivocal. the story of how san francisco was redeeming her fair name, as every newspaper man knows, was sensational enough to be featured day by day on the front pages of every great paper in the land. the eastern dailies started in bravely enough, but soon cut down their reports until they became so meagre and inadequate as to cause people in the east to surmise that some influence hostile to the prosecution had poisoned the sources of their information. the archbold letters, given to the press by mr. hearst in the late campaign, are further examples of commercialism in journalism. how the standard oil company sent its certificates of deposit and giant subscriptions to sundry editors and public-opinion promoters, and how a member of congress from the great state of pennsylvania actually suggested to mr. archbold that it might be a good plan to obtain "a permanent and healthy control" of that very fountain-head of publicity,--the associated press,--these sinister transactions and suggestions have been so fully discussed as to need no further comment from me. from the standpoint of journalistic ethics, the only thing more reprehensible than selling your opinions is offering them for sale. this is editorial prostitution. the mere getting out of winter-resort numbers, automobile numbers, financial numbers, and alaska-yukon-pacific exposition numbers is not at all to be condemned, though the motive may be commercial, as the swollen advertising pages in such special numbers attest. but what shall we suspect when a paper which claims a million readers devotes a long editorial to praising a poor play, and then in a subsequent issue there appears a full-page advertisement of that play? what does it mean when not a single denver paper publishes a line about three nefarious telephone bills before the colorado legislature? and what shall we think of a certain daily whose editor recently told me that there was on his desk a list three feet long of names of prominent people who were not to be mentioned in his paper either favorably or unfavorably? but direct bribe-giving and bribe-taking are, as i have said, very rare. such a procedure is too crude. if you should get up some palpable advertisement disguised as news, and send it around to the leading papers asking them to put it in as reading matter, and send you the bill, expecting them to swallow the bait, you would be disappointed. it is more likely to be done in another way. a financier invites an editor to go with him on a cruise in his private yacht to the west indies, or offers to let him in on the ground floor in some commercial undertaking. then, after the editor is under obligations, favors are asked and the editor is enmeshed. although i have said much about the sordid side of journalism, and the temptations that we editors have to meet in one form or another, i do not want you to think that the profession or trade of journalism offers no scope for the highest moral and intellectual attainments. i have dwelt thus long on the seamy side of our profession because there is a seamy side, and i believe it does good occasionally to discuss it with frankness. the first step in correcting an evil is to acknowledge its existence. were the title of this lecture "journalism and progress," or "the leadership of the press," i could have told a far different and rosier, though a no less true story. but, as i approach my conclusion, let me give you some more pleasing examples of the better side of "commercialism and journalism." george jones, the late owner of the new york "times," when that paper made its historic fight against the tweed ring, was offered five million dollars by "slippery dick" connolly, one of the gang, and an officer of the city government, if he would sell the "times," which was then not worth over a million. mr. jones said afterwards, "the devil will never make a higher bid for me than that." yet he declined the bribe without a tremor. a certain religious weekly lost a hundred thousand dollars for refusing to take patent-medicine advertisements--probably ten times what the paper was worth. "everybody's magazine," and many others of its class, refuse every kind of questionable advertising. many editors and publishers scrupulously eschew politics, lest obligations be incurred that might limit their opportunities for public service. some will not even accept dinner invitations when the motive is known to be the expectation of a _quid pro quo_. perhaps one of the few disagreeable things a conscientious editor cannot hope to avoid is the necessity of denouncing his personal friends. yet this must be done again and again. indeed, there are thousands of editors to-day who will not hesitate a moment to espouse the unpopular cause, though they know it will endanger their advertising receipts and subscription list. "the independent," for instance, could undoubtedly build up a great circulation in the south among white people if we could only cease expressing our disapproval of the way they mistreat their colored brothers. but we consider it a duty to champion a race, who, through no fault of their own, have been placed among us, and whom few papers, statesmen, or philanthropists feel called upon to treat as friends. there is a limit, of course, to the length to which a paper can go in defying its constituency, whether advertisers or subscribers. manifestly a paper cannot be published without their support. but there are times when an editor must defy them, even if it spells ruin to himself and bankruptcy to the paper. it is rarely necessary, however, to go to such an extremity as suicide. the rule would seem to be--and i think it can be defended on all ethical grounds--that under no circumstances should an editor tell what he knows to be false, or urge measures he believes to be harmful. this is a far different thing from telling all the truth all of the time, or urging all the measures he regards as good for mankind in season and out. that is the attitude of the irreconcilable, and the irreconcilable is as ineffectual in journalism as he is in church or state. thus "the ladies' home journal" has not as yet taken any part in furthering the great woman's suffrage movement which is sweeping over the world, and which ought to, but nevertheless does not, interest most american women. from mr. bok's point of view this policy of silence is quite right, and the only one doubtless consistent with the great circulation of his magazine. a periodical which wants a million readers must adhere strictly to the conventions if it would keep up its reputation as a safe guide for the multitude. this may not be the ideal form of leadership, but it is common sense, which is, perhaps, more to be desired. "ed" howe, the editor of "the atchison globe," the paper which gets closer to the people than any other in america, evidently admires this theory of editing, for he confesses, "when perplexities beset me and troubles thicken, i stop and ask myself what would edward bok have me do, and then all my difficulties dissolve." despite the sinister influences that tend to limit the freedom of editors and taint the news, the efficiency, accuracy, and ability of the american press were never on such a high plane of excellence as they are to-day. the celerity with which news is gathered, written, transmitted, edited, published, and served on millions of breakfast-tables every morning in the year is one of the wonders of the age. when great events happen, especially of a dramatic nature, we see newspapers at their best. witness the recent wreck of the steamship republic. only a few wireless dispatches were sent out by the heroic binns during the first few hours, and yet every paper the next morning had columns about the disaster, all written without padding, inaccuracy, or disproportion. also recall the way the press handled the recent witla kidnaping case. within twenty-four hours every newspaper reader in the united states was apprised of the crime in all its details, and in most cases the photograph of the little boy was reproduced. it is the gathering of the less important news of the day, however, where reporting has deteriorated, and yellow journalism is largely responsible for this. yellow journalism is a matter of typography and theatrics. the most sensational, and often the most unimportant, news is featured with big type, colored inks, diagrams, and illustrations. "a laugh or tear in every line" is the motto above the desk of the copy editor. the dotted line showing the route taken by the beautiful housemaid as she falls out of the tenth-story window to the street below adds a thrill of the yellow "write up." the two prime requisites for an ideal yellow newspaper, as that prince of yellow editors, arthur brisbane, once told me, are sport for the men and love for the women; and as the hearst papers have secured their great circulation by putting in practice this discovery, we find the other papers are consciously or unconsciously copying them. a typographical revolution has thus been brought about, as well as a general deterioration of reporting. even in papers of the highest character an over-indulgence in headlines is coming into vogue, while the reporter is allowed too often to treat the unimportant and most personal events in a picturesque or facetious way without regard to truthfulness. on a lecture trip west last winter, a reporter of one of the most respectable and influential papers in the country asked if i was going to attack anybody in my speech, or say anything that would "stir up the mud." when i said i hoped not, he replied that it would not be necessary for him to attend the lecture. "just give me the title, and the first and last sentences," said he, "and i'll write up an account of it at my desk in the office." sometimes, by this method of reporting, a serious injury is done to the individual. a reporter on the new york "times" wrote up last winter a sensational account of the marriage of the head worker of the university settlement on the east side to a young leader of one of the girls' classes. the marriage was performed by one of the officers of the society of ethical culture, who are expressly authorized by the new york legislature to officiate on such occasions. and yet the reporter called the marriage an "ethical" one, putting the word "ethical" in quotation marks and also the word "mrs.," to which the bride was morally and legally entitled, implying that the marriage was irregular, and indicated a tendency towards free love. though many letters of protest were written to the "times" about this, the "times" made no editorial apology for a breach of journalistic ethics, which should have cost the reporter who wrote the article and probably the managing editor who passed it their positions. it is this lack of sense of the fitness of things that would make the average reporter scribble away for dear life, if, when the president's message on the tariff was being read in congress, a large black cat had happened to walk up the aisle of the house and jumped on the back of speaker cannon. such an occurrence, i venture to say, would have commanded more space in the next morning's papers than any pearls cast before congress by the president in his message. the yellows, however, despite their "night special" editions issued before nine o'clock in the morning, their fake pictures and fake sensations, have come to stay. they serve yellow people. formerly the masses had to choose between such papers as "the atlantic monthly," "the nation," the new york "tribune," and nothing. no wonder they chose nothing. in the yellow press they now have their own champion,--a press that serves them, represents them, leads them, and exploits them, as tammany hall does its constituency. of course they give it their suffrage. the hopeful thing is that yellow readers don't stay yellow always. when a man begins to read he is apt to think. when he begins to think there is no telling where he will end,--maybe by reading the london "times" or the "edinburgh review." in new york the yellow papers, while they still have an enormous circulation, are losing their influence as a political and moral force. evidently as soon as yellow people begin to use their wits they first apply them to the yellow journals. the daily newspapers, however, both yellow and white, like natural monopolies, are public necessities. the people must have the news, and therefore, the predatory interests, whether political or financial, have been quick to get control of the people's necessity. "read the comments on the payne tariff bill," says the "philadelphia north american" in its issue of march , "and every sane, well-informed american discounts the comment of the boston papers regarding raw and unfinished materials that affect the factories of new england. most of the philadelphia criticism counts for no more than what new orleans says of sugar, or pittsburg of steel, or san francisco of fruits, or chicago of packing-house products. and it is common knowledge that what almost every big new york paper says is an echo of wall street." the weeklies and monthlies, however, are not, like the dailies, necessities. they have to attract by their merits alone. they must at all hazards therefore retain the people's confidence in their integrity, enterprise, and leadership. whether this be the true explanation or not, there is at least no doubt that the moral power of the american periodical press has been transferred from the dailies to the monthlies and weeklies. the monthlies and weeklies have also the advantage of being national in circulation instead of local, and therefore less subject to local and personal influence. they are also preserved, bound or unbound, and not thrown away on the day of publication like the daily paper. at all events, the weeklies and monthlies have been the pioneers and prime movers in the great moral renaissance now dawning in america. moral strife always brings out moral leaders. where will you find in the daily press to-day twenty editors to compare with richard watson gilder and robert underwood johnson, of "the century," henry m. alden and george harvey, of "harper's," ray stannard baker and ida m. tarbell, of "the american," lyman abbott and theodore roosevelt, of "the outlook," walter page, of "the world's work," albert shaw, of the "review of reviews," paul e. more, of "the nation," s. s. mcclure, of "mcclure's," erman ridgway, of "everybody's," bliss perry, of "the atlantic monthly," norman hapgood, of "collier's," edward bok, of "the ladies' home journal," george h. lorimer, of the "saturday evening post," robert m. la follette, of "la follette's," william j. bryan, of "the commoner," or shailer matthews, of "the world to-day"? these are the men--and there are more, too, i might name--who came forward with their touch upon the pulse of the nation when the day of the daily newspaper as a leader of enlightened public opinion had waned. as a philadelphia daily has admitted, "a vacuum had been created. they filled it." let me quote from a recent editorial,[ ] which seems to sum up this transformation most clearly:-- "the modern american magazines have now fallen heir to the power exerted formerly by pulpit, lyceum, parliamentary debates, and daily newspapers in the moulding of public opinion, the development of new issues, and dissemination of information bearing on current questions. the newspapers, while they have become more efficient as newspapers, that is, more timely, more comprehensive, more even-handed, more detailed, and, on the whole, more accurate, have relinquished, or at least subordinated, the purpose of their founders, which was generally to make people think with the editor and do what he wanted them to do. the editorials, once the most important feature of a daily paper, are rarely so now. they have become in many cases mere casual comment, in some have been altogether eliminated, in others so neutralized and inoffensive that a man who had bought a certain daily for a year might be puzzled if you asked him its political, religious, and sociological views. he would not be in doubt if asked what his favorite magazine was trying to accomplish in the world. unless it is a mere periodical of amusement it is likely to have a definite purpose, even though it be nothing more than opposition to some other magazine. if a magazine attacks mrs. eddy, another gallantly rushes to her defense. if one gets to seeing things at night, the other becomes anti-spirituous. if the first acquires the muck-raking habit, the complementary organ publishes an 'uplift number' that oozes optimism from every paragraph. the modern editor does not sit in his easy-chair, writing essays and sorting over the manuscripts that are sent in by his contributors. he goes hunting for things. the magazine staff is coming to be a group of specialists of similar views, but diverse talents, who are assigned to work up a particular subject, perhaps a year or two before anything is published, and who spend that time in travel and research among the printed and living sources of information." [ ] _the independent_, oct. , . now my conclusion of the whole question under discussion is this: while commercialism is at present the greatest menace to the freedom of the press, just as it is to the freedom of the church and the university, yet commercialism as it develops carries within itself the germ of its own destruction. for no sooner is its blighting influence felt and recognized than all the moral forces in the community are put in motion to accomplish its overthrow, and as the monthlies and weeklies have thrived by fighting commercialism, so it is reasonable to suppose that the dailies will regain their editorial influence when they adopt the same attitude. i know of only four ways to hasten the time when commercialism will cease to be a reproach to our papers. first. the papers can devote themselves to getting so extensive a circulation that they can ignore the clamor of the advertisers. but this implies a certain truckling to popularity, and the best editors will chafe under such restrictions. second. the papers can become endowed. that others have thought of this before, mr. andrew carnegie can doubtless testify. there would be many advantages, however, of having several great endowed papers in the country. the same arguments that favor endowed theatres or universities apply equally to papers. we need some papers that can say what ought to be said irrespective of anybody and everybody, and which can serve as examples to other papers not so fortunately circumstanced. but manifestly the periodical industry as a whole is much too large to be endowed, and the few papers that may be endowed by private capital, or by the government, would have only a limited influence on the industry as a whole. our government now publishes a weekly paper in panama, which takes no advertisements, and is furnished free to every government employee on the isthmus. it is a model paper in many respects, but manifestly its example is not apt to be followed extensively before the dawn of the coöperative commonwealth. it may be that the practice newspapers conducted by the schools of journalism connected with our great universities will raise the standard by making their chief object the publication of accurate and reliable news. third. the papers can combine in a sort of trust. take the theatrical syndicate, for instance, whose theatres could not be kept open a week without newspaper publicity. the theatrical syndicate's policy seems to be to single out any paper that becomes too critical and give it an absent-advertisement treatment. at the present moment this medicine is being prescribed in several of our large cities. but let all the publishers form a publishers' trade union as it were, and whenever an advertisement is withdrawn, appoint a committee of investigation, and if the committee reports that the withdrawal of the advertisement was done for any improper reason, then let all the papers refuse to print an advertisement of the play, or allow their critics to mention it until the matter is satisfactorily adjusted. this would bring the advertisers to their knees in a moment. the papers have the whip hand if they will only combine, but they are all so jealous of one another that probably any real combination is a long way off. still there are indications of a gentleman's agreement in the air, for all other interests are combining and they will be forced to follow suit. and what will the public do then, poor thing? a newspaper trust will certainly be as inimical to the public welfare as any other combination doing business in the fear of the sherman law. indeed it would be more dangerous, for a periodical trust would practically control the diffusion of intelligence, and that no self-respecting democracy would or should allow. but this is borrowing trouble from the future. fourth and last. we come back to the old, old remedy, which if sincerely applied would solve most all the ills of society. i refer to personal integrity, to character. despite what may be said to the contrary, integrity is the only thing in the newspaper profession, as in life itself, that really counts. the great journalists of the past, whatever their personal idiosyncrasies, have all been men of integrity; the great journalists of to-day are of the same sterling mould; and the journalistic giants of to-morrow--and the journalists of the future will be giants--must also be men of inflexible character. there has never been a time in all history when so many and so important things were waiting to be done as to-day. the newest school of sociology tells us that the human race in its spiral progress onward and upward through sweat and blood, misery and strife, has at last reached the point where, emerging from the control of the blind forces of an inexorable environment, it is about to take its destiny into its own control and actually shape its future. from now on, evolution is to be a psychical rather than a physical process. the world is on the threshold of a new era. we see the first faint dawn of universal peace and of the brotherhood of man. fortunate that editor whose privilege it is to share in pointing out the way. _the riverside press_ cambridge · massachusetts u · s · a [ transcriber's note: every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as possible, including inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation; changes (corrections of spelling) made to the original text are listed at the end of this file. ] the clock that had no hands and nineteen other essays about advertising by herbert kaufman new york george h. doran company copyright, by the chicago tribune copyright, george h. doran company the·plimpton·press [w·d·o] norwood·mass·u·s·a contents page the clock that had no hands the cannon that modernized japan the tailor who paid too much the man who retreats before his defeat the dollar that can't be spent the pass of thermopylae the perambulating showcase how alexander untied the knot if it fits you, wear this cap you must irrigate your neighborhood cato's follow-up system how to write retail advertising copy the difference between amusing and convincing some don'ts when you do advertise the doctor whose patients hang on the horse that drew the load the cellar hole and the sewer hole the neighborhood of your advertising the mistake of the big steak the omelette soufflé the clock that had no hands newspaper advertising is to business, what hands are to a clock. it is a direct and _certain_ means of letting the public know _what you are doing_. in these days of intense and vigilant commercial contest, a dealer who does not advertise is like _a clock that has no hands_. he has no way of recording his movements. he can no more expect a twentieth century success with nineteenth century methods, than he can wear the same sized shoes as a _man_, which fitted him in his _boyhood_. his father and mother were content with neighborhood shops and bobtail cars; nothing better could be had in their day. they were accustomed to _seek_ the merchant instead of being sought _by_ him. they dealt "around the corner" in one-story shops which depended upon the _immediate friends_ of the dealer for support. so long as the city was made up of such neighborhood units, each with a full outfit of butchers, bakers, clothiers, jewelers, furniture dealers and shoemakers, it was possible for the proprietors of these little establishments to exist and make a profit. but as population increased, transit facilities spread, sections became specialized, block after block was entirely devoted to stores, and mile after mile became solely occupied by homes. the purchaser and the storekeeper _grew farther and farther apart_. it was _necessary_ for the merchant to find a _substitute_ for his direct personality, which _no longer served_ to draw customers to his door. _he had to have a bond between the commercial center and the home center._ rapid transit eliminated distance but advertising was necessary to inform people _where_ he was located and _what he had to sell_. it was a natural outgrowth of changed conditions--the beginning of _a new era_ in trade which no longer relied upon personal acquaintance for success. something more wonderful than the fabled philosopher's stone came into being, and the beginnings of _fortunes which would pass the hundred million mark and place tradesmen's daughters_ upon _oriental thrones_ grew from this new force. within fifty years it has become as vital to industry as _steam_ to _commerce_. advertising is _not_ a _luxury_ nor a _debatable policy_. _it has proven its case._ its record is traced in the skylines of cities where a hundred towering buildings stand as a lesson of reproach to the men who had the _opportunity_ but _not_ the _foresight_, and furnish a constant inspiration to the _young merchant_ at the _threshold_ of his career. the cannon that modernized japan business is no longer a man to man contact, in which the seller and the buyer establish a _personal_ bond, any more than battle is a hand-to-hand grapple wherein bone and muscle and sinew decide the outcome. _trade_ as well as _war_ has changed aspect--_both are now fought at long range_. just as a present day army of heroes would have no opportunity to display the _individual_ valor of its members, just so a merchant who counts upon his direct acquaintanceship for success, is a relic of the past--_a business dodo_. japan changed her policy of exclusion to foreigners, after a fleet of warships battered down the satsuma fortifications. the samurai, who had hitherto considered their blades and bows efficient, discovered that one cannon was mightier than all the swords in creation--_if they could not get near enough to use them_. japan profited by the lesson. she did not wait until _further_ ramparts were pounded to pieces but was satisfied with her _one_ experience and proceeded to modernize her methods. the merchant who doesn't advertise is pretty much in the same position as that in which japan stood when her eyes were opened to the fact that _times had changed_. the long range publicity of a competitor will as surely destroy his business as the cannon of the foreigners crumbled the walls of satsuma. unless you take the lesson to heart, unless you _realize_ the importance of advertising, not only as a means of _extending_ your business but for _defending_ it as well, you must be prepared to face the consequences of a folly as great as that of a duelist who expects to survive in a contest in which his _adversary_ bears a _sword twice the length of his own_. don't think that it's _too late_ to begin because there are so many stores which have had the advantage of years of cumulative advertising. the city is growing. it will grow even more next year. it needs _increased trading facilities_ just as it's hungry for new neighborhoods. _but it will never again support neighborhood stores._ newspaper advertising has reduced the value of being _locally prominent_, and five cent street car fares have cut out the advantage of being "_around the corner_." a store five miles away, can reach out through the columns of the daily newspaper and draw your next door neighbor to its aisles, while you sit by and see the people on your own block enticed away, without your being able to retaliate or secure _new_ customers to take their place. it is not a question of your ability to _stand the cost_ of advertising but of being able to _survive without it_. the thing you have to consider is not only an _extension_ of your business but of holding _what you already have_. advertising is an _investment_, the cost of which is in the same proportion to its _returns_ as _seeds_ are to the _harvest_. and it is just as preposterous for you to consider publicity as an expense, as it would be for a farmer to hesitate over purchasing a _fertilizer_, if he discovered that he could _profitably increase_ his crops by _employing_ it. the tailor who paid too much i was buying a cigar last week when a man dropped into the shop and after making a purchase told the proprietor that he had started a clothes shop around the corner and quoted him prices, with the assurance of best garments and terms. after he left the cigar man turned to me and said: "enterprising fellow, that, he'll get along." "but he _won't_," i replied, "and, furthermore, i'll wager you that he hasn't the sort of clothes shop that will _enable_ him to." "what made you think that?" queried the man behind the counter. "his theories are wrong," i explained; "he's relying upon word of mouth publicity to build up his business and he can't _interview enough individuals_ to compete with a merchant, who has sense enough to say the _same_ things he told you, to a _hundred thousand_ men, while he is telling it to _one_. besides, his method of advertising is _too expensive_. suppose he sees a _hundred_ persons every day. first of all, he is robbing his business of its necessary direction and besides, he is spending too much to reach every man he solicits." "i don't quite follow you." "well, as the proprietor of a clothes shop his own time is so valuable that i am very conservative in my estimate when i put the cost of his soliciting at five cents a head. "now, if he were _really_ able and clever he would discover that he can talk to hundreds of thousands of people at a tenth of a cent per individual. there is not a newspaper in town the advertising rate of which is $ . per thousand circulation, for a space big enough in which to _display what he said to you_." "i never looked at it _that_ way," said the cigar man. it's only "_the man who hasn't looked at it that way_," who hesitates for an instant over the advisability and profitableness of newspaper publicity. newspaper advertising is the cheapest channel of communication ever established by man. a thousand letters with one-cent stamps, will easily cost fifteen dollars and not one envelope in ten will be opened because _the very postage_ is an invitation to the wastebasket. if there were anything _cheaper_ rest assured that the greatest merchants in america would not spend individual sums ranging up to _half a million dollars a year and over_, upon this form of attracting trade. the man who retreats before his defeat advertising _isn't_ magic. there is no element of the black art about it. in its best and highest form it is _plain_ talk, _sane_ talk--_selling_ talk. its results are in proportion to the _merit_ of the subject advertised and the _ability_ with which the advertising is done. there are two great obstacles to advertising profit, and both of them arise from ignorance of the _real_ functions and workings of publicity. the first is to advertise _promises_ which will not be _fulfilled_,--because all that advertising can do when it _accomplishes most_, is to influence the reader to _investigate_ your claims. _if you promise the earth and deliver the moon, advertising will not pay you._ if you bring men and women to your store on _pretense_ and fail to _make good_, advertising will have _harmed_ you, because it has only drawn attention to the fact that you are to be _avoided_. it is as _unjust_ to charge advertising with _failure_ under these conditions, as it would be for your _neighbor_ to rob a bank and make you responsible for _his_ misdeed. in brief, _advertised_ dishonesty is _even more profitless_ than _unexploited_ deception. the other great error in advertising is to expect more _out_ of advertising than there is _in_ it. _advertising is seed which a merchant plants in the confidence of the community._ he must allow time for it to _grow_. every successful advertiser has to be _patient_. the time that it takes to arrive at results rests entirely with the ability and determination devoted to the work. but you cannot turn back when you have traveled half way and declare that the _path_ is wrong. you can't advertise for a _week_, and because your store isn't crowded, say it hasn't _paid_ you. it takes a certain period to attract the attention of readers. everybody doesn't see what you print the _first_ time it appears. more will notice your copy the _second day_, _a great many more_ at the end of a month. you cannot expect to win the confidence of the community to the same degree that other men have obtained it, without taking pretty much the same length of time that _they_ did. but you _can_ cut short the period between your introduction to your reader and his introduction to your _counters_, by spending _more_ effort in preparing your _copy_ and displaying a greater amount of convincingness. you mustn't act like the little girl who sowed a garden and came out the _next day_ expecting to find it in _full bloom_. her father had to explain to her that plants require _roots_ and that, although she could not _see_ what was going on, _the seeds were doing their most important work just before the flowers showed above ground_. so _advertising is_ doing its most _important_ work before the big results eventuate, and to abandon the money which has been invested just before results arrive, is not only foolish but childish. _it would be just as logical for a farmer to desert his fields because he cannot harvest his corn a week after he planted it._ advertising does not require _faith_--merely _common sense_. if it is begun in doubt and relinquished before normal results can be _reasonably_ looked for, the fault does not lie with the newspaper nor with publicity--the blame is solely on the head of the coward who _retreated before he was defeated_. the dollar that can't be spent every dollar spent in advertising is not only a _seed_ dollar which _produces a profit_ for the merchant, but is actually _retained_ by him even _after he has paid it to the publisher_. advertising creates _a good will_ equal to the cost of the publicity. advertising _really costs nothing_. while it _uses_ funds it does not _use them up_. it helps the founder of a business to grow rich and then _keeps_ his business alive after his death. _it eliminates the personal equation._ it perpetuates confidence _in the store_ and makes it possible for a merchant _to withdraw_ from _business_ without having the _profits_ of the business _withdrawn_ from _him_. it changes a _name_ to an _institution_--an institution which will _survive_ its builder. it is really an _insurance policy_ which costs nothing--_pays_ a premium each year instead of _calling for_ one and renders it possible to change the entire personnel of a business without disturbing its prosperity. advertising renders the _business_ stronger than the _man_--independent of his presence. it permanentizes systems of merchandising, the track of which is left for others to follow. a business which is _not_ advertised _must_ rely upon the _personality_ of its proprietor, and personality in business is a decreasing factor. the public _does not want to know the man_ who owns the store--it isn't interested in _him_ but in his goods. when an unadvertised business is sold it is only worth as much as its _stock of goods and its fixtures_. there is no good will to be paid for--_it does not exist_--it has _not_ been _created_. the name over the door _means nothing_ except to the limited stream of people from the immediate neighborhood, any of whom could tell you _more_ about some store ten miles away which has regularly delivered its shop news to their breakfast table. it is as _shortsighted_ for a man to build a business which _dies with his death_ or ceases with his inaction, as it _is unfair_ for him not to provide for the _continuance of its income to his family_. the pass of thermopylae xerxes once led a million soldiers out of persia in an effort to capture greece, but his invasion failed utterly, because a spartan captain had entrenched a hundred men in a narrow mountain pass, which controlled the road into lacedaemon. _the man who was first on the ground had the advantage._ advertising is full of opportunities for men who are _first_ on the ground. there are hundreds of advertising passes waiting for some one to occupy them. the first man who realizes that his line will be helped by publicity, has a _tremendous opportunity_. he can gain an advantage over his competitors that they can never possess. those who _follow_ him must spend more money to _equal_ his returns. they must not only _invest as much_, _to get as much_, but they must as well, spend an extra sum to _counteract_ the influence that he has _already established_ in the community. whatever men sell, whether it is actual merchandise or brain vibrations, can be _more easily_ sold with the aid of advertising. not one half of the businesses which _should_ be exploited are appearing in the newspapers. _trade grows as reputation grows and advertising spreads reputation._ if you are engaged in a line which is waiting for an advertising pioneer, realize what a wonderful chance you have of being the first of your kind to appeal directly to the public. you stand a better chance of leadership than those who have handicapped their strength, by permitting you to _get on the ground_ before they could outstrip you. you gain a prestige that those who _follow_ you, must spend more money to _counteract_. if your particular line is _similar_ to some other trade or business which has _already_ been introduced to the reading public, it's up to you to start in _right now_ and join your competitors in contesting for the attention of the community. the longer you _delay_ the more you _decrease_ your chances of _surviving_. every man who outstrips you is another _opponent_, who must be met and grappled with, for _the right of way_. the perambulating showcase the newspaper is a _huge_ shop window, carried about the city and delivered daily into hundreds of thousands of homes, to be examined at the leisure of the reader. this shop window is unlike the actual plate glass showcase only in _one_ respect--it makes display of _descriptions_ instead of _articles_. you have often been impressed by the difference between the decorations of two window-trimmers, each of whom employed the same materials for his work. the one drew your attention and held it by the grace and cleverness and art manifested in his display. the other realized so little of the possibilities in the materials placed at his disposal, that unless some one called your attention to his mediocrities you would have gone on unconscious of their existence. an advertiser must know that he gets his results in accordance with the _skill_ exercised in preparing his verbal displays. he must make people _stop_ and pause. _his copy has to stand out._ he must not only make a show of things that are attractive to the eye but are attractive to the people's needs, as well. the window-trimmer must not make the mistake of thinking that the showiest stocks are the most salable. the advertiser must not make the mistake of thinking that the showiest words are the most clinching. windows are too few in number to be used with indiscretion. the good merchant puts those goods back of his plate glass which nine people out of ten will want, once they have seen them. the good advertiser tells about goods which nine readers out of ten will buy, if they can be convinced. newspaper space itself is only the window, just as the showcase is but a frame for merchandise pictures. a window on a crowded street, in the best neighborhood, where prosperous persons pass continually, is more desirable, than one in a cheap, sparsely settled neighborhood. an advertisement in a newspaper with the most readers and the most _prosperous_ ones, possesses a great advantage over the same copy, in a medium circulating among persons who possess less means. it would be foolish for a shop to build its windows in an alley-way--and just as much so to put its advertising into newspapers which are distributed among "alley-dwellers." how alexander untied the knot alexander the great was being shown the gordian knot. "it can't be untied," they told him; "every man who tried to do so, failed." but alexander was not discouraged because the _rest_ had flunked. he simply realized that he would have to go at it in a _different_ way. and instead of wasting time with his _fingers_, he drew his sword and _slashed_ it apart. every day a great business general is shown some knot which has proven too much for his competitors, and he succeeds, because he finds a way to _cut_ it. the fumbler has no show so long as there is a brother merchant who doesn't waste time trying to accomplish the impossible--who takes lessons from the _failures_ about him and avoids the methods which were their downfall. the knottiest problems in trade are: --the problem of location. --the problem of getting the crowds. --the problem of keeping the crowds. --the problem of minimizing fixed expenses. --the problem of creating a valuable good will. none of these knots is going to be untied by fumbling fingers. they are too complicated. they're all inextricably involved--so twisted and entangled that they can't be solved singly--like the gordian knot _they must be cut through at one stroke_. and you can't cut the knot with anything but advertising--because: --a store that is constantly before the people makes its own neighborhood. --crowds can be brought from anywhere by daily advertising. --customers can always be held by inducements. --fixed expenses can only be reduced by increasing the volume of sales. --good will can only be created through publicity. advertising is breeding new giants every year and making them more powerful every hour. publicity is the sustaining food of a _powerful_ store and the only strengthening nourishment for a _weak_ one. the retailer who delays his entry into advertising must pay the penalty of his procrastination by facing more giant competitors as each month of opportunity slips by. personal ability as a close purchaser and as a clever seller, doesn't count for a hang, so long as other men are equally well posted and wear the sword of publicity to boot. they are able to tie your business into constantly closer knots, while you cannot retaliate, because there is no knot which their advertising cannot cut for them. yesterday you lost a customer--today they took one--tomorrow they'll get another. you cannot cope with their competition because you haven't the weapon with which to oppose it. you can't untie your gordian knot because it can't be _untied_--you've got to _cut_ it. you must become an advertiser or you must pay the penalty of incompetence. you not only require the newspaper to fight for a more _hopeful tomorrow_, but to keep _today's_ situation from becoming _hopeless_. if it fits you, wear this cap advertising isn't a crucible with which lazy, bigoted and incapable merchants can turn incompetency into success--but one into which brains and tenacity and courage _can_ be poured and changed into dollars. it is only a short cut across the fields--_not_ a moving platform. you can't "get there" without "going some." it's a game in which the _worker_--not the _shirker_--gets rich. by its measurement every man stands for what he _is_ and for what he _does_, _not_ for what he _was_ and what he _did_. every day in the advertising world is _another_ day and has to be taken care of with the same energy as its _yesterday_. the quitter _can't survive_ where the _plugger_ has the ghost of a chance. advertising doesn't take the place of business talent or business management. it simply tells what a business _is_ and _how_ it is managed. the snob whose father _created_ and who is content to live on what was _handed_ to him, can't stand up against the man who knows he _must build for himself_. what makes _you_ think that _you_ are entitled to prosper as well as a competitor who _works twice as hard_ for his prosperity? why should as many people deal at _your_ store, as patronize a shop that makes an endeavor to _get_ their trade and shows them that it is _worth while_ to come to its doors? why should a newspaper send as many customers to _you_, in _half_ the time it took to fill an establishment which advertised _twice_ as long and _paid twice as much_ for its publicity? this is the day when the _best_ man wins--after he _proves_ that he _is_ the best man--when the _best_ store wins, when it has shown that it _is_ the best store--when the best _goods_ win, after they've been _demonstrated to be_ the best goods. if you want the _plum_ you can't get it by lying under the _tree_ with your mouth open waiting for it to drop--too many other men are willing to climb out on the limb and risk their necks in their eagerness to get it away from you. it is a _man's_ game--this advertising--just hanging on and tugging and straining all the time to _get_ and _keep_ ahead. it is the finite expression of the law of competition, which sits in blind-folded justice over the markets of the world. you must irrigate your neighborhood half a century ago there were ten million acres of land, within a thousand miles of chicago, upon which not even a blade of grass would grow. today upon these very deserts are wonderful orchards and tremendous wheatfields. _the soil itself was full of possibilities. what the land needed was water._ in time there came farmers who knew that they could not expect the streams _to come to them_, and so they dug ditches and _led the water to their properties_ from the surrounding rivers and lakes; they tilled the earth with their _brains_ as well as their _plows_--they became rich through _irrigation_. advertising has made thousands of men rich, just because they recognized the possibilities of utilizing the newspapers to bring streams of buyers into neighborhoods that could be made busy locations by irrigation--_by drawing people from other sections_. the successful retailer is the man who keeps the stream of purchasers coming his way. it isn't the _spot itself_ that makes the _store_ pay--it's the _man_ who makes the _spot_ pay. centers of trade are not selected by the public--they are created by the force which _controls_ the public--the newspapers. new neighborhoods for business are being constantly built up by men who have located themselves in streets which they have changed from deserted by-ways into teeming, jostling thoroughfares, through advertising irrigation. the storekeeper who whines that his neighborhood holds him back is squinting at the truth--_he is hurting the neighborhood_. if it lacks streams of buyers, he can easily enough secure them by reaching out through the columns of the daily and inducing people from _other_ sections to come to him. every time he influences a customer of a competitor he is not only irrigating his _own_ field but is diverting the streams upon which a _non-advertising_ merchant depends for existence. men and women who live next door to a shop that does not plead for their custom will eventually be drawn to an establishment _miles_ away because they have been made to believe in some advantage to be gained thereby. the circulation of _every_ daily is nothing less than a _reservoir_ of buyers, from which shoppers stream in the direction that promises the _most value_ for the _least money_. the magic development of the desert lands, has its parallel in merchandising of men who consider the newspaper an irrigating power which can make _two_ customers grow where _one_ grew before. cato's follow-up system if a man lambasted you on the eye and walked away and waited a week before he repeated the performance, he wouldn't hurt you very badly. between attacks you would have an opportunity to recover from the effect of the first blow. but if he smashed you and _kept mauling_, each impact of his fist would find you less able to stand the hammering, and a half-dozen jabs would probably _knock you down_. now advertising is, after all, a matter of _hitting the eye of the public_. if you allow too great an interval to elapse between insertions of copy the effect of the first advertisement will have worn _away_ by the time you hit again. you may continue your scattered talks over a stretch of years, but you will not derive the same benefit that would result from a greater concentration. in other words, by appearing in print _every_ day, you are able to get the benefit of the impression created _the day before_, and as each piece of copy makes its appearance, the result of your publicity on the reader's mind is more pronounced--you mustn't stop short of a _knock-down impression_. _persistence is_ the foundation of advertising success. regularity of insertion is _just as important_ as clever phrasing. the man who _hangs on_ is the man who _wins out_. cato the elder is an example to every merchant who _uses_ the newspapers and should be an inspiration to every storekeeper who does _not_. for twenty years he arose daily in the roman senate and cried out for the destruction of carthage. in the beginning he found his conferees very unresponsive. but he _kept on_ every day, month after month and year after year, sinking into the minds of all the necessity of destroying carthage, until he set all the senate thinking upon the subject and _in the end_ rome sent an army across the mediterranean and ended the reign of the hannibals and hamilcars over northern africa. _the persistent utterances of a single man did it._ the history of every mercantile success is _parallel_. the advertiser who does not let a day slip by without having his say, is bound to be heard and have his influence felt. every insertion of copy brings stronger returns, because it has the benefit of what has been said _before_, until the public's attention is like an eye that has been so repeatedly struck, that the _least touch_ of suggestion will feel like a blow. how to write retail advertising copy a skilled layer of mosaics works with small fragments of stone--they fit into more places than the _larger_ chunks. the skilled advertiser works with small words--they fit into _more_ minds than _big_ phrases. the simpler the language the greater certainty that it will be understood by the _least intelligent reader_. the construction engineer plans his road-bed where there is a _minimum of grade_--he works along the lines of _least resistance_. the advertisement which runs into mountainous style is badly surveyed--_all minds are not built for high grade thinking_. advertising must be simple. when it is tricked out with the jewelry and silks of literary expression, it looks as much out of place as _a ball dress at the breakfast table_! the buying public is only interested in _facts_. people read advertisements to find out _what you have to sell_. the advertiser who can fire the _most facts_ in the shortest time gets the _most returns_. blank cartridges _make noise but they do not hit_--blank talk, however clever, is only wasted space. you force your salesmen to keep to solid facts--you don't allow _them_ to sell muslin with quotations from omar or trousers with excerpts from marie corelli. you must not tolerate in your _printed selling talk_ anything that you are not willing to countenance in _personal salesmanship_. cut out clever phrases if they are inserted to the sacrifice of clear explanations--_write copy as you talk_. only be more brief. publicity is costlier than conversation--ranging in price downward from $ a line; talk is not cheap but the most expensive commodity in the world. sketch in your ad to the stenographer. then you will be so busy "_saying it_" that you will not have time to bother about the gewgaws of writing. afterwards take the typewritten manuscript and cut out every word and every line that can be erased without omitting an important detail. what _remains_ in the _end_ is all that _really counted_ in the _beginning_. cultivate brevity and simplicity. "savon français" may _look_ smarter, but more people will _understand_ "french soap." sir isaac newton's explanation of gravitation covers _six pages_ but the schoolboy's terse and homely "what goes up must come down" clinches the whole thing in _six words_. _indefinite talk wastes_ space. it is not % productive. the copy that omits prices sacrifices half its pulling power--it has a tendency to bring _lookers_ instead of _buyers_. it often creates false impressions. some people are bound to conceive the idea that the goods are _higher priced_ than in _reality_--others, by the same token, are just as likely to infer that the prices are _lower_ and go away thinking that you have exaggerated your statements. the reader must be _searched out_ by the copy. big space is cheapest because it _doesn't waste a single eye_. publicity must be on the _offensive_. there are far too many advertisers who keep their lights on top _of_ their bushel--the average citizen _hasn't time_ to overturn your bushel. small space is expensive. like a _one-flake snowstorm_, there is not enough of it to lay. space is a _comparative matter_ after all. it is not a case of _how much_ is used as _how it is used_. the passengers on the limited express may realize that jones has tacked a twelve-inch shingle on every post and fence for a stretch of five miles, but they are _going too fast_ to make out what the shingles say, yet the two feet letters of brown's big bulletin board on top of the hill leap at them before they have a chance to dodge it. and at that it doesn't cost nearly so much as the _sum total_ of jones' dinky display. just so advertisements attractively displayed every day or every other day for a year in one big newspaper, will find the eye of _all_ readers, no matter how rapidly they may be "going" through the advertising pages and produce more results than a _dozen_ piking pieces of copy scattered through _half a dozen_ dailies. the difference between amusing and convincing an advertiser must realize that there is a vast difference between _amusing_ people and _convincing_ them. it does not pay to be "smart" at the line rate of the average first class daily. i suppose that i could draw the attention of everybody on the street by painting half of my face red and donning a suit of motley. i might have a sincere purpose in wishing _to attract_ the crowd, but i would be deluding myself if i mistook the nature of their attention. the new advertiser is especially prone to misjudge between amusing and convincing copy. a humorous picture _may_ catch the eyes of _every_ reader, but it won't pay as well as an illustration of _some piece of merchandise_ which will strike the eye of every _buyer_. merchants secure varying results from the same advertising space. the publisher delivers to each _the same quality of readers_, but the advertiser who plants _flippancy_ in the minds of the community won't attain the benefit that is secured by the merchant who imprints _clinching_ arguments there. always remember that the advertising sections of newspapers are no different than farming lands. and it is as preposterous to hold the publisher responsible for the outcome of unintelligent copy as it would be unjust to blame the soil for bad seed and poor culture. _every advertiser gets exactly the same number of readers from a publisher and the same readers_--after that it's up to him--the results fluctuate in accordance with the intelligence and the pulling power of the _copy_ which is inserted. some don'ts when you do advertise the _price_ of the gun never hits the _bull's eye_. and the _bang_ seldom rattles the bells. it's the _hand on the trigger_ that cuts the _real_ figger. the _aim's_ what amounts--_that's_ what makes _record_ counts-- are _you_ hitting or just _wasting_ shells? _don't_ forget that the man who writes your copy is the man who aims your policy. when you stop to reflect what your _space_ costs and that the wrong talk is just _noise_--_bang_ without _biff_--you must see the necessity and _sanity_ of putting the _right man behind the gun_. _don't_ tolerate an ambition on your ad-man's part to indulge in a lurking desire to be a literary light. people read his advertising to discover what your buyers have just brought from the market and what you are asking for "o. n. t." they buy the _newspaper_ for information and recreation and are satisfied with the degree of poetry and persiflage dished up in its _reading_ columns. _don't exaggerate._ poetic licenses are not valid in business prose. the american people _don't_ want to be humbugged and the merchant who figures upon too many fools, finds _himself_ looking into a mirror, usually about a half hour after the sheriff has come to look over the premises. _don't imitate._ advertising is a _special measure_ garment. businesses are not built in _ready-made_ sizes. copy which fits somebody else's selling plans, won't fit your store without sagging at the chest or riding up at the collar. duplicated _argument_ and duplicated _results_ are not twins. your policy of publicity must be _specially_ measured from your policy of merchandising. _don't put your advertising in charge of an amateur._ let somebody else stand the expense of his educational blunders. remember you are making a plea before the bar of public confidence. your ad-writer is an advocate. _like a bad lawyer, he can lose a good case by not making the most of the facts at hand._ _don't get the "sales" habit._ "sales" are stimulants. when held too often their effect is _weakening_. the merchant who continually yells "_bargain_" is like the old hen who was always crying "fox." when the real article did come along, none of her chicks _believed it_. _don't use fine print._ make it easy for the reader to find out about your business. there are ten million pairs of eyeglasses worn in america, and every owner of them buys something. _and don't start unless you mean to stick._ the patron saint of the successful advertiser _hates a quitter_. the doctor whose patients hang on out in china _all_ things are _not_ topsy turvy. _physicians are paid for keeping people well_ and when their patients fall ill, their weekly remittances are stopped. the chinese judge a medical man not by the number of years _he_ lives, but by the length of time his patrons survive. an advertising medium must be judged in the same way. the fact that it has _age_ to its credit isn't so important as the _age of its advertising patronage_. whenever a daily continues to display the store talk of the same establishment year after year, it's a pretty sure sign that the merchant has _made money_ out of that newspaper, because no publication can continue to be a losing investment to its customers over a stretch of time, without the fact being discovered. and when a newspaper is not only able to boast of an honor roll of stores that have continued to appear in its pages for a stretch of decades, but at the same time demonstrates that it carries _more_ business than its competitors, it has _proven its superiority_ as plainly as a mountain peak which rises above its fellows. the combination of _stability and progress_ is the strongest virtue that a newspaper can possess. _only the fit survive_--reputation is a _difficult_ thing to _get_ and a harder thing to _hold_--it takes _merit_ to _earn_ it and _character_ to _maintain_ it. there is a vast difference between _fame_ and _notoriety_, and just as much difference between a _famous newspaper_ and a _notorious one_. just as a manufacturer is always eager to install his choicest stocks in a store which has earned the respect of the community, just so a retailer should be anxious to insert his name in a newspaper which has _earned the respect of its readers_. the manufacturer feels that he will receive a square deal from a store which has age to its credit. he can expect as much from a newspaper which is a credit to its age! the newspaper which outlives the rest does so because it was _best fitted to_--it had to _earn_ the confidence of its readers--and _keep it_. it had to be a _better_ newspaper than any other and _better_ newspapers go to the homes of _better_ buyers. every bit of its circulation has the element of _quality and staying power_. and it is the _respectable_, _home-loving_ element of every community--not the touts and the gamblers--toward which the merchant must look for his business _vertebrae_--he cannot find buyers unless he uses the _newspaper_ that enters their homes. and when _he does_ enter their homes he must not confuse the sheet that comes in the back gate with the newspaper that is delivered at the front door. the horse that drew the load a moving van came rolling down the street the other day with a big spirited percheron in the center and two wretched nags on either side. the percheron was _doing all the work_, and it seemed that he would have got along far better in single harness, than he managed with his inferior mates _retarding_ his speed. the advertiser who selects a group of newspapers usually harnesses two _lame_ propositions to every _pulling_ newspaper on his list, and just as the van driver probably dealt out an _equal_ portion of feed to each of his animals, just so many a merchant is paying practically the same rate to a _weak_ daily, that he is allowing the _sturdy profitable sheet_. unfortunately the accepted custom of inserting the _same_ advertisement in _every_ paper acts to the distinct disadvantage of the _meritorious_ medium. the advertiser charges the sum total of his _expense_ against the sum total of his _returns_, and thereby does _himself and the best puller an injustice_, by crediting the less productive sheets with results that they have _not_ earned. it's the _pulling power_ of the newspaper as well as the horse that proves its value, and if advertisers were as level headed as they should be, they would take the trouble to put every daily in which they advertise _on trial_ for at least a month and advertise a different department or article in each, carefully tabulating the returns. if this were done, fifty per cent of the advertising now carried in weaker newspapers would be withdrawn and the patronage of the stronger sheets would _advance_ in that proportion. _there are newspapers in many a city that are, single handed, able to build up businesses._ their circulation is solid muscle and sinew--_all pull_. it isn't the number of copies _printed_ but the number of copies that reach the hands of buyers--it isn't the number of _readers_ but the number of readers with _money_ to spend--it isn't the _bulk_ of a circulation but the amount of the circulation which is _available_ to the advertiser--it isn't _fat_ but _brawn_--that tell in the long run. there are certain earmarks that indicate these strengths and weaknesses. they are as plain to the observing eye as the signs of the woods are significant to the trapper. the _news_ columns tell you what you can expect out of the _advertising_ columns. a newspaper _always finds_ the class of readers to which it is _edited_. when its mental tone is _low_ and its moral tone is _careless_ depend upon it--_the readers match the medium_. no gun can hit a target _outside_ of its range. no newspaper can aim its policy in _one_ direction and score in _another_. no advertiser can find a different class of men and women than the publisher has found for himself. he is judged by the company he keeps. _if he lies down with dogs he will arise with fleas._ the cellar hole and the sewer hole a coal cart stopped before an office building in washington and the driver dismounted, removed the cover from a manhole, ran out his chute, and proceeded to empty the load. an old negro strolled over and stood watching him. suddenly the black man glanced down and immediately burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, which continued for several minutes. the cart driver looked at him in amusement. "say, uncle," he asked, "do you always laugh when you see coal going into a cellar?" the negro sputtered around for a few moments and then holding his hands to his aching sides managed to say, "_no, sah, but i jest busts when i sees it goin' down a sewer._" the advertiser who displays lack of judgment in selecting the newspapers which carry his copy often confuses the _sewer_ and the _cellar_. all the money that is put _into_ newspapers isn't taken _out_ again, by any means. the fact that all dailies possess a certain physical likeness, doesn't necessarily signify a similarity in character, and it's _character_ in a newspaper that brings returns. the editor who conducts a journalistic sewer, finds a _different_ class of readers than the publisher who respects himself enough to respect his readers. what goes into a newspaper largely determines the class of homes into which the newspaper goes. an irresponsible, scandal-mongering, muck-raking sheet is certainly not supported by the buying classes of people. it _may be_ perused by thousands of readers, but such readers are seldom purchasers of advertised goods. it's the clean-cut, steady, normal-minded citizens who form the bone and sinew and muscle of the community. it's the sane, self-respecting, _dependable_ newspaper that enters their homes and it's the _home_ sale that indicates the strength of an advertising medium. no clean-minded father of a family wishes to have his wife and children brought in contact with the most maudlin and banal phases of life. he defends them from the sensational editor and the unpleasant advertiser. he subscribes to _a newspaper which he does not fear to leave about the house_. therefore, the respectable newspaper can always be counted upon to produce more sales than one which may even own a larger _circulation_ but whose distribution is in ten editions among unprofitable citizens. you can no more expect to sell goods to people who _haven't money_, than you can hope _to pluck oysters from rose-bushes_. it isn't the number of readers _reached_, but the number of readers whose _purses_ can be reached, that constitutes the value of circulation. it's one thing to arouse _their attention_, but it's a far different thing to get _their money_. _the mind may be willing, but the pocketbook may be weak._ if you had the choice of a thousand acres of desert land or a hundred acres of oasis, you'd select the fertile spot, realizing that the larger tract had less value because it would be less productive. the advertiser who really understands how he is spending his money, takes care that he is not pouring his money into _deserts and sewers_. the neighborhood of your advertising circulation is a commodity which must be bought with the same common sense used in selecting potatoes, cloth and real estate. _it can be measured and weighed_--it is _merchandise_ with a _provable_ value. it varies just as much as the grocer's green stuff, the tailor's fabrics and the lots of the real estate man. your cook refuses to accept green and rotten tomatoes at the price of perfect ones. she does not calculate the number of vegetables that are _delivered_ to her, but those that she _can use_. when your wife selects a piece of cloth she first makes sure that it will serve the purpose she has in view. when you buy a piece of property you consider _the neighborhood_ as well as the _ground_. just so when you buy _advertising_ you must find out how much of the circulation you _can use_. you must judge the _neighborhoods_ where your copy will be read, with the same thoughtfulness that you devoted to selecting the spot where your goods are sold. a dealer in precious stones would be foolish to open up in a tenement district, and equally short-sighted, to tell about his jewelry in a newspaper largely distributed there. out of ten thousand men and women who might _see_ what he had to say not ten of them could _afford to buy his goods_. these ten thousand readers would be mass without muscle. he could make them _willing_ to do business with him, but _their incomes wouldn't let them become customers_. one of the greatest mistakes in publicity is _to drop your lines where the fish can't take your bait_. circulation is, as you see, a very interesting subject, but very few people know anything about it. it would surprise you to know that this ignorance often extends to the business offices of newspapers. i have known publishers to continually mistake the _class of_ their readers and have met hundreds of them who had the most fantastic ideas upon the figures of their circulation. while i would not be so harsh as to accuse them of anything more than being _mistaken_, none the less their tendency to infect _others_ with this misinformation renders it extremely advisable for _you to_ become a member of the missouri society--and "_be shown_." don't rely solely on circulation statements. you don't understand the tricks in their making. make the newspaper which carries your advertisement show you the list of its advertisers. a newspaper which prints the most advertising, month after month, year after year, is always the best medium. this is equally true in new york, chicago, philadelphia, kenosha and walla walla. the mistake of the big steak watch out for _waste_ in circulation. find out _where_ your story is going to be _read_. don't pay for planting the seed of publicity in a spot where you are not going to _harvest_ the results. the manufacturer of soap who has his goods on sale from oskaloosa to timbuctoo doesn't care _how widely_ a newspaper circulation is scattered. whoever reads about his product is near to _some_ store or other where it is sold--but you have just _one_ store. buying advertising circulation is very much like ordering a steak--if the waiter brings you a porter-house twice as big as your _digestion_ can handle, you've paid twice as much as the steak was worth to _you_, even if it _is_ worth the price to the restaurant man. you derive your profit not from the circulation that your _advertisement_ gets, but from circulation _that gets people to buy_. if two newspapers offer you their columns and one shows a distribution almost entirely within the city and in towns that rely upon your city for buying facilities, your business can digest all of its influence. if the other has _as much circulation_, but only _one third_ of it is in _local territory_, mere bulk cannot establish its value to _you_--_it's another case of the big steak_--you pay for more than you can digest. that part of its influence which is concentrated where men and women can't get your _goods_ after you get their _attention_, is _sheer waste_. by dividing the number of copies he prints into his line rate, a publisher may fallaciously demonstrate to you that his space is sold as low as that of his stronger competitors, but if half his circulation is too _far away to bring buyers_, his real _rate_ is double what it seems. he is like the butcher who weighs in all the bone and sinew and fat and charges you as much for the _waste_ as he does for the _meat_. the omelette soufflé there is a vast distinction between distribution for the sake of increasing the _circulation figures_ and distribution for the sake of increasing the number of _advertising responses_. there is a difference between a circulation which strikes the _same_ reader several times in the _same_ day and the circulation which does _not_ repeat the individual. there is a difference between circulation which is concentrated into an area from which every reader can be expected to come to your establishment, if you can _interest_ him, and a circulation that spreads over half a dozen states and shows its greatest volume in territory so far from your establishment that you can't get a buyer out of ten thousand readers. you've got to weigh and measure all these things when you weigh and measure circulation figures. it isn't the number of copies _printed_, but the number of copies _sold_--not the number of papers _distributed_, but the number of papers distributed in _responsive_ territory--not the number of readers _reached_, but the number of readers who have the price to _buy_ what you want to _sell_--that determine the value of circulation to _you_. you can take a single egg and whip it into an omelette soufflé which _seems_ to be a _whole plateful_, but the extra bulk is just _hot air_ and _sugar_--the change in form has not increased the amount of egg _substance_ and it's the _substance_ in circulation, just as it is the _nutrition_ in the egg, that _counts_. [ transcriber's note: the following is a list of corrections made to the original. the first line is the original line, the second the corrected one. pronounced--you musn't stop short of a _knock-down impression_. pronounced--you mustn't stop short of a _knock-down impression_. ] none _the olden-time series._ mo. per vol., cents. * * * * * there appears to be, from year to year, a growing popular taste for quaint and curious reminiscences of "ye olden time," and to meet this, mr. henry m. brooks has prepared a series of interesting handbooks. the materials have been gleaned chiefly from old newspapers of boston and salem, sources not easily accessible, and while not professing to be history, the volumes contain much material for history, so combined and presented as to be both amusing and instructive. the titles of some of the volumes indicate their scope and their promise of entertainment:-- curiosities of the old lottery. days of the spinning-wheel. some strange and curious punishments. quaint and curious advertisements. literary curiosities. new-england sunday, etc. * * * * * "it has been the good fortune of the writer to be allowed a peep at the manuscript for this series, and he can assure the lovers of the historical and the quaint in literature that something both valuable and pleasant is in store for them. in the specialties treated of in these books mr. brooks has been for many years a careful collector and student, and it is gratifying to learn that the material is to be committed to book form."--_salem gazette._ * * * * * _for sale by all booksellers. sent, post-paid, upon receipt of price. catalogues of our books mailed free._ ticknor & co., boston. the olden time series * * * * * quaint and curious advertisements _advertisements._ _advertisements are sometimes very amusing. they give insights into the manners of the times no less interesting than authentic. suppose the ancients had possessed a press, and that a volume of a roman_ post _or_ chronicle _had been dug up at herculaneum, with what curiosity should we not contemplate the millinery of the roman ladies, or, "wanted, a gladiator to fight the last new lion;" or, "next ides of november will be published the new poem of quintus horatius flaccus"!_--leigh hunt. the olden time series. gleanings chiefly from old newspapers of boston and salem, massachusetts selected and arranged, with brief comments by henry m. brooks * * * * * quaint and curious advertisements "old and new make the warp and woof of every moment. there is no thread that is not a twist of these two strands. by necessity, by proclivity, and by delight, we all quote."--emerson [illustration: crest] boston ticknor and company _copyright, ,_ by ticknor and company. _all rights reserved._ university press: john wilson and son, cambridge. index of names. page abraham, nathaniel adams, john allen, jolley allen, thomas amberson, william amory, john & thomas, & co. amory, jonathan & john andrews, william, jr. appleton, john aspinwalle, g. & t. bails, james baker, john baker, mr. ball, john barclay, andrew barnard, thomas, d.d. , barnum, p.t. bartlett, keziah , bartlett, w.p. bathrick, samuel bell, robert belcher & armstrong belknap, jeremy, d.d. bernard, governor francis , billings, mary , blake, increase blanchard & hancock bois, john bolles, e.c., d.d. boutineau, deacon bowen, mr. , , bowes, nicholas bowles, william augustus boyer, daniel bray, george , brazer, samuel , brewer, jonathan brewer, thomas briggs, enos , , , brooks, sarah brown, charles brown, mr. brown, william buffum, james r. bulfinch, jeremiah burnham, nathan cabot, francis cabot, joseph , caines, thomas callender, joseph campbell, elizabeth carleton, osgood , cato chapman, moses chase & speakman chase, t. chase, thomas choate, thomas chesterfield, lord clark, dr. clark, w. gaylord coffin, ebenezer copley, john s. courtney, elizabeth courtney, mr. craigie, andrew crandel, mr. crombie, mr. crosby, john curwen, george r. curwen, samuel cushing & appleton , dabney, nathaniel daland, benjamin dalgleish, andrew dana, rev. samuel , daniell, jesse davis, caleb davis, israel derby, e.h. derby, richard, jr. dodd, rev. dr. william , dodge, john t., jr. don vincent, folch, st. col. dorr, harbottle dow, enoch draper, mr. duncan, robert dupee, isaac edes & gill , , , elliot, robert ellson, mr. emerson, bulkeley erving, mr. fairfield, william felt, george w. flagg, josiah, jr. franklin, benjamin franklin, mr. franklin, samuel franklin, william temple freeman, philip forrest, edwin foster, hopestill foster, susannah fowle, daniel fowle, j. gardner, samuel , gay, martin gray & carter gray, hon. william , gibson, deacon gilbert, mr. gillespie, andrew glover, jonathan goldthwaite, ezekiel goodale, nathan goodhue, william green & russell greenleaf, j. , greenough, david s. greenwood, isaac , greenwood, isaac, jr. gridley, richard griswold, ezra hacket, colonel hamilton, alexander hardy, charles hawthorne, nathaniel hendry, widow hepburn, thomas hewes, daniel hewes, shubael hodgdon, colonel holden, nathaniel j. holker, john holman, samuel holyoke, dr. e.a. , hook, e. & g., & hastings hook, elias hopkins, daniel, d.d. hunt, thomas f. hunt, william , hutchinson, governor thomas , , hudson & goodwin irwin, john ives, john m. , jackson, mary & son jenks, john johnston & co., nicholas jones, daniel jones, thomas jordis, frederick , keith, john h. , king, major , kingsbury, ezekiel, jr. kneeland, s. knox, henry lang, mr. lang, william leech, asa leverett, thomas lewis, thomas lindal, timothy loring, john lowell, rev. charles lynde, chief justice benjamin lynde, madam mcalpine, w. mcdaniel, b.f. mansfield, j. d. marshall, captain mason, james mason, jonathan matthews, john l. matthis, edmond , mein & flemming metcalf, joseph moore, rosanna morgan, theodore morris, robert morris, york morse, edward s. mylod, samuel nazro, mr. newell, joseph newhall, j. & i. northey, william nutting, john oliver, andrew oliver, daniel osgood, nathaniel otis, samuel allyne packard, alpheus s. paddock, adino paddock, captain paff, mr. paget, henry palfrey, william , palmer, joseph & co. parker, daniel payson, jonathan , peale, charles w. peck, thomas handasyd peck, william augustus peters, hugh peters, john phillips, deacon phillips, margaret pickman, benjamin pickman, c. gayton pickman, william pinchbeck, mr. pollard, a. pousland, t.d. preble, captain prentice, john , prince, samuel procter, martha purcell, mary , putnam, ebenezer putnam, frederick w. pynchon, william randall, joseph randall, susannah remond, c. lenox remond, john , , , , rengill, emanuel revere, paul , rice, lemuel richards, giles & co. richardson, f.p. robinson, j. robinson, john , rogers, james ropes, judge nathaniel rose, samuel russell, benjamin , rust, john salisbury, ambrose sancho sargent, ignatius sargent, winthrop , scott, captain silhouette, m. skillings, captain smith, samuel , sparhawk, n. stetson, prince stevenson, john & thomas stewart, mr. stickney, m.a. stone, john street & grose sylvester, richard symmes, john talleyrand tannebill, a. thaxter, samuel thomas, isaiah, jr. , tisdall, thomas , todd, sarah , townley, john trask, jonathan tromelle & girard tucker & thayer tucker, mr. turner, john turner, mr. tyler, joseph tyler, thomas urquhart, david wallace, george waters, h.f. watt, captain wheatland, henry whipple, henry whitaker, nathaniel, d.d. whitwell, william wilkins, j. jr. williams, jonathan williams, mr. williams, thomas woodbury, josiah [illustration] quaint and curious advertisements. among the mass of advertisements that have appeared from time to time in newspapers are to be found some which are very quaint and curious. such are not, in all cases, intended by the writers to be so; but they sound so, especially to those persons who have an ear for strange or humorous things. sometimes, indeed, it is the intention of the writers to attract particular notice by the wording of the advertisement. oftentimes the matter may have been dictated by illiterate persons. frequently the nature of the subject is itself sufficient to excite our humorous feelings. but whatever may be the object of the advertiser, these productions are often amusing and interesting enough to be reproduced for the benefit of those who cannot conveniently read the originals. in "the prince of the power of the air reigned with almost uncontrouled restraint," according to a book published. this day _published_, an address to persons of fashion, concerning frequenting of plays, balls, assemblies, card-tables, &c. in which is introduced the character of _lucinda_. printed & sold by _w. mcalpine_, in marlboro'-street. *** a pamphlet worthy the serious attention of every christian, especially at a time when vice and immorality seems to have an ascendency over religion, and the prince of the power of the air reigns with almost an uncontrouled restraint. _boston gazette_, may , . * * * * * in the year competition in trade had not reached the proportions that it has since assumed, for the "ill-natured opposition" which two women met with according to the "boston gazette" of august , that year, was probably nothing more or less than the treatment of some competitor in the same line,--perhaps a man mean enough to undersell. such things have frequently occurred in our day,--some mammoth establishment cutting prices purposely, to drive some poor woman out of business whose sole dependence is in a small shop selling cotton, pins, needles, etc., barely making a living at it. "rule or ruin" is the motto of too many in these days; and such men are called "smart," and if they get rich are fairly worshipped for their enterprise. _sarah todd_ and _mary purcell_ hereby inform the publick that (notwithstanding the ill-natur'd opposition they have met with, though not from the landlord, who has fulfill'd his engagement to them) they have remov'd their shop from opposite the old-brick meeting-house in cornhill to the house lately occupied by mrs. _elizabeth campbell_, next door to deacon _boutineau's_ in cornhill, _boston_, where they hope their friends and others will favour them with their custom, and whom they engage to supply with the following articles at the lowest rate that any fair trader can afford them for cash. _viz._ _india taffities, grograms, persians, black and colour'd sattins, silk, callamancoe, tammie, and horse hair quilted petticoats, a variety of the newest fashion'd prussian cloaks and hatts, with figur'd silk and trimming for ditto, - and yard-wide muslin, long lawn, cambrick, clear and flower'd lawns, cyprus, gauze, tandem holland, damask table cloths, india ginghams, white callico, cap lace, black bone lace, and trolly ditto, white and colour'd blond lace, stone sett in silver shoe buckles, sleeve buttons, stock tape, sattin jockeys with feathers for boys, brocaded silk, black sattin and russel shoes, black sattin bonnetts and hatts, pastboard stomachers, cotton, thread and worsted mens and womens hose, a great variety of ribbons, necklaces and earings, black and white silk mitts, kid and lamb gloves and mitts, french ditto, cotton, cambrick and scotch threads, with a great variety of millenary goods, too many to enumerate. --> the said_ todd _and_ purcell _having spare room in said house, can accommodate young ladies with board and lodging at a reasonable rate._ * * * * * in the town clerk of boston issued a notice to the public in reference to persons forestalling the market by falsely representing to farmers and others that the small-pox was prevalent in the town, which had so frightened the market-men that they were glad to sell outside the town and at lower prices than they otherwise would have done. boston, february , . whereas sundry evil minded persons in some of the neighbouring towns, to discourage the market-people coming into this town with their provisions, and that they may have an opportunity to purchase at low rates, and sell them here at an exorbitant price, have industriously reported that the small-pox for some time past has been in this town, and now prevails here: these are to inform the public, that for near two years past, there has been only one person taken down in this town with the small-pox, which is upwards of a month past, who upon discovery of it was immediately removed to the hospital, and there died, and no other person has had it, or any symptoms of it since.--that yesterday there was a general visitation of the town by the justices of the peace, selectmen and overseers of the poor, and upon their report last evening of the state and circumstances of the inhabitants, i hereby certify that there is not an infectious distemper of any sort, known to be in town.--and as the above false reports have been propagated to the great prejudice of this town by those who employ themselves in engrossing provisions and forestalling the market, (many of whom are known to the selectmen:) they are hereby particularly notified, that unless they desist from such wicked and abusive practices, they will be prosecuted on the act of the province, for making and publishing such lyes and false reports.----by order of the selectmen, ezekiel goldthwait, town clerk. many country-people have imagined by seeing silks hanging on poles, that the small-pox is in such houses; but their surmises are entirely groundless, they being hung out at the silk dyers for drying. _boston gazette._ * * * * * in the committee of tradesmen advise voters to "put on sabbath day clothes" and "wash their hands and faces" before going to town meeting the next day. they also speak of the "new and grand corcas," meaning probably caucus. this is from the "boston gazette," may . the committee of tradesmen hereby advise their constituents and others to set apart a decent portion of time (at least one hour) previous to the opening of the town-meeting to-morrow to shift themselves and put on their sabbath day clothes, also to wash their hands and faces, that they may appear neat and cleanly; inasmuch as it hath been reported to said committee of tradesmen that votes are to be given away by the delicate hands of the _new and grand corcas_; and they would have no offence given to turk or jew, much less to gentlemen who attend upon so _charitable_ a design.--nothing of the _least significancy_ was transacted at a late meeting of the said new and grand corcas to require any further attention of said committee. _boston gazette_, may , . * * * * * some one is "desired to refresh his memory" in . such mistakes remind us of willis gaylord clark's account of an announcement he once heard at a revival meeting somewhere in new york state. the minister said: "i would _ad_nounce to this _codin_gregation [through his nose] that, _pre_bably by mistake, there was left at this house of prayer this morning a small _cotting_ umbrella, very much worn and of an exceeding_lie_ pale blue color; in the place whereof was taken one that was new and of great beauty. i say, brethren and sisters, that it was _pre_bably by mistake that of these two articles the one was taken and the other left; but it was a very improper mistake, and should be discountenanced if possible. blunders of this sort are getting to be a _lee_tle too common." taken (as is supposed by mistake) last wednesday from the representatives chamber in _boston_, a long camblet cloak, lin'd with red baize: whoever has taken the same is desired to refresh his memory, and return it to mr. _baker_, keeper of the court-house. _sept. , ._ * * * * * by an advertisement in the "boston gazette," oct. , , we learn that the young ladies of boston had an opportunity to learn to paint on "gauze and catgut," which we suppose at that time was considered "high art." to the young ladies of _boston_. _elizabeth courtney_, as several ladies has signified of having a desire to learn that most ingenious art of painting on gauze & catgut, proposes to open a school, and that her business may be a public good, designs to teach the making all sorts of french trimmings, flowers, and feather muffs and tippets. and as those arts above mentioned (the flowers excepted) are entirely unknown on the continent, she flatters herself to meet with all due encouragement; and more so, as every lady may have a power of serving herself of what she is now obliged to send to england for, as the whole process is attended with little or no expence. the conditions are _five dollars_ at entrance, to be confin'd to no particular hours or time: and if they apply constant, may be compleat in six weeks. and when she has fifty subscribers, school will be open'd, as not being designed to open a school under that number, her proposals being to each person so easy, but to return to those who have subscrib'd their money again, and keep the business to herself. _n.b._ feather muffs and tippets to be had; and gauze wash'd to look as well as new. please to inquire at mr. _courtney's_, taylor, four doors below the mill-bridge, north-end. * * * * * sept , , samuel gardner and joseph cabot of salem offer a "snow" (two-masted vessel) for sale, that "goeth well." to be sold, by _samuel gardner_, _francis_ and _joseph cabot_ of _salem_, on reasonable terms; a snow burthened about one hundred and seventy tons, well built and fitted, goeth well; she has carriage and swivel guns, belonging to her. * * * * * in june, , "gentleman seamen" were offered a chance to ship. "post-boy." [illustration] now bound on a cruize of six months, against his majesty's enemies, the brigantine _tartar_, a prime sailer, mounting fourteen six pounders, twenty co-horns, and will carry one hundred and twenty men, commanded by _william augustus peck_. all gentlemen seamen and able bodied landmen, who have a mind to make their fortunes, and are inclined to take a cruize in said vessel, by applying to the _king's-head_ tavern at the north-end may view the articles, which are more advantageous to the ship's company than ever were before offered in this place. _boston_, _june , ._ in the front part of a house is to be let near the "orange-tree" in boston. the "orange-tree" was a tavern. _to be lett, the front part of the house that deacon_ gibson _formerly liv'd in, a little below the orange-tree; for further information, inquire of mr._ increase blake, _living in the back part of said house and know further._ * * * * * in september, , those persons who were indebted to mr. george bray and who did not wish to be waited upon by a "monitor"--otherwise a constable--were reminded of their duty in the following quaint notice from the "boston gazette:"-- if those who are indebted to mr. _george bray_ will pay what they owe him to me his attorney on or before the th day of next month, they will save me the trouble of sending, and themselves of paying a monitor, who will at least remind them that in ancient times people were desired to "owe no man any thing, but to love one another": which i believe is as obligatory, i am sure as necessary, to be observed now as it was then; especially considering mr. _bray's_ repeated losses by fire, his having a large family to maintain, and also being a long time out of business. _boston_, _sept. , ._ john ball. _n.b._ beware of suing, for no further warning will be given. j.b. * * * * * in widow hendry had "a very chargeable family," and had suffered by a recent fire in "paddy's alley." this is to give notice that the widow _hendry_, having had her workshop destroyed in the late fire in paddy's alley, carries on the farrier's business on scarlet's wharf, at the north end, where she hopes her customers will continue their favors to her, in her deplorable circumstances, having a very chargeable family, and met with very heavy losses by the said fire. * * * * * after the same fire jonathan payson missed a pair of "brass doggs" (andirons), etc. sundry things missing after the late fire, _viz._ one pair of brass doggs, cast solid, very heavy and large; yards of hamburgh sheeting; one bell metal skillet, and one silver spoon--the persons that took them in not knowing who they may belong to, i take this method to inform them that they belong to the subscriber. jonathan payson. * * * * * lead sashes in use in . to be sold, a number of windows, set in lead. inquire of the printers. _boston_, printed by _edes_ and _gill_, . * * * * * in july, , among the rough element, there seems to have been a "boom" in breaking windows and throwing stones. this state of things reached such a pitch that the governor was forced to issue a proclamation offering a reward for the detection of the offenders. by his excellency francis bernard, esq; captain-general and governor in chief, in and over his majesty's province of the _massachusetts bay_, in _new-england_, and vice-admiral of the same. a proclamation. _whereas certain persons, who remain hitherto undiscovered, have of late committed great disorders in the night-time, within several towns in this province, and particularly have broke the windows of some meeting houses, and of the dwelling-houses of several persons, by flinging thereinto great stones and bricks, thereby indangering the lives of the inhabitants, as well as injuring their houses, against the peace of our sovereign lord the king, and in contempt of his laws:_ i have therefore thought fit, with the advice of his majesty's council, to issue this proclamation, requiring all justices of the peace, sheriffs, constables, and all other officers whom it may concern, and also recommending it to all other his majesty's good subjects within this province, to use their utmost endeavours for discovering and bringing to justice all persons concerned in such disorderly and riotous practices. and i do hereby promise, that whosoever shall discover and detect all or any of the persons concerned therein, so that they or any of them may be lawfully convicted of any such offences, shall receive out of the public treasury of this province the sum of _ten pounds_ lawful money, as a reward to be paid upon the conviction of such offender or offenders. _given at the council-chamber in_ boston, _the seventh day of_ july, , _in the first year of the reign of our sovereign lord george the third, by the grace of god, of_ great-britain, france, _and_ ireland, king, _defender of the faith, &c._ fr. bernard. by his excellency's command, a. oliver, secr. god save the king. * * * * * in the "boston gazette," this same year, august , samuel smith objected to people reporting that he "was run away." _whereas it has been falsely reported by some ill minded litigious persons that i, the subscriber, was run away, this is to inform the public, and especially those that it doth concern, that i have been no further than_ philadelphia, _a trading, with a design to return home in about two months, but return'd home one week sooner; and be it known notwithstanding all the false reports about me, i am to be spoke with at my dwelling-house at the north end, or upon 'change, every day in the week._ samuel smith. n.b. _said_ smith _has a house at the north end of the town to lett; also two rooms in another house in said part of the town; he has likewise another house in said part of the town, which he would be willing to exchange for one further southward_. * * * * * quaint advertisement of a paper-maker in the "boston gazette," nov. , . advertisements. the manufacturers of paper at milton beg the favor of the public to furnish them with what linnen rags they can spare, for which the greatest possible allowance will be given.--all persons dispos'd in this way to encourage so useful a manufacture, are hereby acquainted that linnen rags and old paper (to be kept separate from each other) will be receiv'd at the following places, viz. in boston, at mr. caleb davis's shop near the fortification, mr. thomas chase near liberty-tree, mr. andrew gillespie, tobacconist, in fore-street, mr. john bois's house in long-lane, and at edes & gill's printing-office in queen-street.----at mr. ellson's master of the workhouse in salem; at mr. williams's master of the workhouse in marblehead, to each of whom we have been already much oblig'd.----at mr. bulkeley emerson stationer in newbury-port, and at mr. daniel fowle's, printer in portsmouth.----if any person will favor us in this way, who live near winnisimet-ferry, or in black horse lane in boston, or in the center of the town of charlestown, they are desir'd to send their names to edes and gill's printing-office.----as large quantities of paper fortunately arriv'd from europe before the duties could be demanded, it is hoped before that can be consum'd, there will be sufficient of this country manufacture for future use. * * * * * _the_ printers _of this paper beg leave to advertise their customers, that they have lately purchas'd a new set of_ types, _at a very great_ expence, _which will be improved for the entertainment and instruction of the public. they only desire that those gentlemen who are in arrears_ for more than a twelvemonth, _wou'd be kind enough for their encouragement to pay off their respective balances, as soon as may be, in cash, or good clean linnen rags, the latter of which they prefer._ *** choice writing paper, manufactured at milton, to be sold by the printers hereof. * * * * * as mr. turner, the dancing-master, had "suffered much by booking," we infer that some people had "danced without paying the fiddler." _dancing academy,_ concert-hall. mr. turner informs the ladies and gentlemen in town and country, that he has reduced his price for teaching, from _six dollars_ entrance to _one guinea_, and from _four dollars_ per month to _three_. those ladies and gentlemen who propose sending their children to be taught, will notice, that no books will be kept, as mr. t. has suffered much by booking. the pupils must pay monthly, if they are desirous the school should continue. _boston, march , ._ * * * * * mary billings, opposite the governor's, sold lottery tickets in . (december .) a few tickets in _sudbury_--lottery, which will certainly commence drawing on the d of this month, may be had of the managers in _sudbury_ or of _edes_ and _gill_ and _green_ and _russell_, printers in queen-street _boston_. scheme of dollars. | of dollars. of | of of | of of | of of | to be sold by _mary billings_, opposite the governor's--cardinal silks and trimmings, with many other articles, cheap for cash. * * * * * from "boston gazette," sept. , : to be sold by _henry paget_, of _providence_, a tract of land, partly improved, lying in _weyer_ river parish, being the north part of said parish, and joins to _greenwich_ and _hardwick_, containing about acres--laid out in acre lotts; to be sold together, or in lots. said land will be sold reasonable for prompt pay; or if the purchaser can't pay the whole, good security will be taken. _n.b._ there's a settled minister in said parish much approved of. * * * * * sporting in boston, in . from the "massachusetts centinel," may . whereas great danger daily arises to the inhabitants, from the frequency of persons gunning or shooting birds, at various parts of the town, in direct violation of the law; the selectmen would now acquaint the inhabitants, that they have appointed mr. shubael hewes to take notice of all such persons, who may be found shooting within the limits of the town in future, and prosecute them, without exception, to the utmost extent of the law. * * * * * paul revere as a dentist. in the "boston gazette," dec. , , appears the following curious advertisement: whereas many persons are so unfortunate as to lose their fore-teeth by accident, and otherways, to their great detriment, not only in looks, but speaking both in public and private:--this is to inform all such, that they may have them re-placed with artificial ones, that looks as well as the natural, & answers the end of speaking to all intents, by _paul revere_, goldsmith, near the head of dr. _clarke's_ wharf, _boston_. *** all persons who have had false teeth fixt by mr. _john baker_, surgeon-dentist, and they have got loose (as they will in time) may have them fastened by the above, who learnt the method of fixing them from mr. _baker_. * * * * * escape of a negro man slave who "can play on a fiddle, and loves strong drink." five dollars reward. ran-away from his master the th day of november last, at north-kingston, in the colony of rhode-island, a well-set negro man slave, named isaac, about feet or inches high, with a scar on his forehead, between and years old, thick beard, can play on a fiddle, and loves strong drink; had on and carried with him a lightish-colour'd thick-set coat, a blue ratteen jacket with cuffs to the sleeves, a blue broad cloth jacket without sleeves, flannel shirt, stript flannel trowsers, grey yarn stockings, and single channel pumps. whoever will secure said slave in any of his majesty's goals, or deliver him to the subscriber, his master, shall have five dollars reward, and necessary charges paid. per samuel rose. masters of vessels, and others, are hereby forbid carrying off or securing said slave, as they would avoid the penalty of the law. december , . _boston gazette._ * * * * * the town of beverly has always been noted for beans, and it will be seen that as early as josiah woodbury offered two bushels as a reward to any person who would keep his "house plague," who had run away from him. the question naturally arises, was "old moll" mr. woodbury's wife? beverly, sept. , . ran-away from josiah woodbury, cooper, his house plague for long years, masury old moll, alias trial of vengeance. he that lost will never seek her; he that shall keep her, i will give two bushel of beans. i forewarn all persons in town or country from trusting said trial of vengeance. i have hove all the old shoes i can find for joy; and all my neighbours rejoice with me. a good riddance of bad ware. amen. josiah woodbury. _essex gazette_, sept. , . * * * * * a woman advertises and describes a run-away husband. curious advertisement. copied from a late hartford paper. ran away from the subscriber, on the th of may, one joseph randall, a tall, trim-built fellow: had on, when he went away, a blue coat, velvet waistcoat and breeches, mixt coloured stockings, and wore away two felt hats; he rode away a black horse, and led a sorrel horse; he is supposed to be lurking in the south part of scantick after a strumpet that he has spent the most of his time with for three years past. whoever will take up said randall, and return him to me, shall have coppers reward; but whoever will take the trouble to keep him away shall have ten dollars reward, and all necessary charges paid by me. susannah randall. n.b. all persons are forbid harbouring him, for i am determined to maintain him no longer. _salem mercury_, july , . * * * * * in the "massachusetts gazette," feb. , , is advertised a book by the notorious dr. dodd, who was executed for the forgery of lord chesterfield's name. this book is said to be "extremely proper to be given at funerals." a book which upon perusal recommends itself, and which it is only necessary to read to approve; extremely proper to be given at funerals or any other solemn occasion: being written expressly with that intention. _this day was published,_ (price _s._ lawful money single and / . the doz.) by thomas leverett, nicholas bowes and henry knox in cornhill, reflections on death. by william dodd, ll. d. prebendary of brecon and chaplain in ordinary to his majesty. it is appointed once for men to die, but after this the judgment, heb. ix. . the fifth edition. a desire of extending the very laudable practice of giving books at funerals, and the great propriety of the present work for that purpose, have induced the editors to put this valuable performance one third cheaper than the london edition, although it is by no means inferior in point of elegance. * * * * * some of the business localities of boston in the last century were known by names which now strike us as very queer or quaint. we select a number of advertisements from the "gazette," "post-boy," and "chronicle." dec. , . imported in the last ships from _london_. _by_ andrew craigie, and to be sold at his shop, right against the old south meeting-house: by wholesale & retail, english goods, suitable for the season, too many to be enumerated, at the lowest rate, for cash, or short credit. * * * * * feb. , . isaac dupee, _carver_, advertises his customers and others that since the late fire (on dock square) he has opened a shop the north side of the swing-bridge, opposite to _thomas tyler's_, esq.; where business will be carried on as usual with fidelity and dispatch. * * * * * _imported in the neptune_, _capt._ binney, _and to be sold by_ daniel parker, _goldsmith_, _at his shop near the golden-ball_, boston. _an assortment of articles in the goldsmith's and jeweller's way_, viz. _brilliant and cypher'd button and earing stones of all sorts, locket stones, cypher'd ring stones, brilliant ring sparks, buckle stones, garnetts, emethysts, topaz and saphire ring stones, neat stone rings sett in gold, some with diamond sparks, stone buttons in silver, by the card, black ditto in silver, best sword blades, shoe and knee chapes of all sizes, files of all sorts, freezing punches, turkey oyl stones, red and white foyl, moulding sand, borax, saltpetre, crucibles and black led potts, money scales, large ditto to weigh silver, piles of ounce weights, penny weights & grains, coral beeds, stick ditto for whistles, forgeing anvils, spoon teats, plain ditto, small raizing anvils for cream potts, fine lancashire watch plyers, shears and nippers, birmingham ditto, with sundry other articles, cheap for cash._ * * * * * _choice muscovado best powder and brown sugars, by the hogshead or barrel, to be sold by_ william whitwell, _at the seven stars near the draw-bridge, boston. also choice new raisins by the cask, philadelphia flour and bar iron per quantity, coffee by the barrel or hundred, bohea tea, &c., cheap for cash or short credit._ * * * * * sept. , . _john loring,_ at his shop near the great trees. a fresh and general assortment of medecines both chemical and galenical--spices of all sorts--likewise redwood, logwood, allum, copperas, brimstone, &c.----_n.b._ true _lockyer's_ pills, _bateman's_ drops, _stoughton's_ and _duffy's_ elixer, _&c. &c._ * * * * * susannah foster hereby informs her customers, that she has removed from queen street to fore-street, next door to the sign of the cross, where they may be supplied as usual with all kinds of groceries at the cheapest rates. * * * * * feb. , . imported in the last ship from _london_, and to be sold _by_ thomas allen. near _bromfield's_ lane, boston. cardinal silks and trimmings, prussian cloaks, muffs and tippets, callimanco and tammy quilted coats, _irish_ linens, mens & womens cotton, thread and worsted hose; a neat assortment of millenary goods, &c. cheap for cash.-- _also_ a great variety of paper hangings. * * * * * imported in captains _hulme_ and _binney_ from _london_, by _thomas handasyd peck_, and sold by him at the hatt & beaver, merchant's row. a _fresh assortment of linnen linings, suitable for beaver, beaverett, castor and felt hatts, tabby ditto, mohair lupings, silk braid ditto, flatt and round silk lace and frogs for button lupes, plain and sash bands, workt & plain buttons, black thread, gold and silver chain, yellow and white buttons, hard and light brushes, velures, cards, large and small bowstrings, looping needles, verdigrees and coperas, a good assortment of mens and boys felt hatts, castor ditto.----he likewise sells logwood._ missing since the late fire, when the market-house was burnt, a large folio of mr. _clarkson's_ works, and twenty yards of gold and silver chain. if any person has the book or chain, they are desir'd to inform said _peck_. * * * * * may , . a few firkins of choice butter, to be sold by _philip freeman_, at the blue glove, facing the sign of the cornfields. * * * * * may , . jonathan & john amory in _king-street_, just below the town-house in _boston_, and at _salem_, in the house where the honourable _timothy lindal_, esq; deceas'd, lately dwelt, near the friends meeting house, have lately open'd a very large assortment of english goods, of almost every kind, for men's and women's wear, consisting of too many articles to be compriz'd in an advertisement, which they will sell at either place, by wholesale or retail, at very low prices for cash or treasurer's notes, and allow the interest thereon. * * * * * may , . imported by john and thomas stevenson, and to be sold at their shop, at the sign of the stays, opposite the south side of the town-house, _boston_, at the very lowest prices, _viz._ lawns of all sorts, strip'd and flower'd kenting handkerchiefs; cotton and linnen ditto; silk and gause ditto; cambricks, calicoes and printed linnens--white and colour'd threads;--silk, worsted, cotton and thread stockings--women's silk and worsted mitts--broad-cloths; german serges--thicksets; fustians; jeans; pillows and dimities--broglios; dorsateens; venetian poplins; flower'd and plain damasks; prussianets; serpentines; tammies; strip'd stuffs; camblets; callimancoes; shalloons and buckrams,--worsted caps; garters; needles and pins--white, brown and striped hollands--white and check'd linnen; diaper; bed-ticks; tartans; plaids; breeches and jacket stocking patterns; cotton & silk and cotton gowns--stock tapes--leather breeches; men's and women's leather shoes, _&c. &c._ _n. b. kippen's_ and _tilloch's_ snuff; scotch barley and carpeting and porter by the dozen; with a great number of other articles. * * * * * jan. , . a few hogsheads of choice _barbadoes_ rum to be sold: inquire _nathaniel abraham_, at the golden key. * * * * * to be lett, _and enter'd upon the th of_ march, _in good tenable repair._ the five grist-mills at the north part of the town of _boston_, with stabling for horses, stores for grain, &c. any person inclining to hire, may apply to _william hunt_, in hanover-street, whom the proprietors hath empowered to let the same. feb. , . * * * * * may , . just imported from _london_, and to be sold by daniel boyer, _jeweller_, at his shop opposite the governor's in _boston_, best brilliant and * binding wire cypher earing & button * brass and iron ditto stones * brass stamps brilliant & cypher ring * buckle & ring brushes stones * money scales & weights garnets, amethysts, and * small sheers & plyers topaz * screw dividers ring and buckle sparks * blow pipes locket stones & cyphers * draw plates ruby and white foyle * moulding sand coral beeds * crucibles & black pots coral for whistles * borax & salt-petre shoe and knee chapes * pommice and rottenstone, rough and smooth files * &c. where also may be had, most sorts of jewellers and goldsmith work, cheap for cash. * * * * * william palfrey hereby informs his customers and others, that he has just opened a fresh assortment of goods suitable for the season, which were imported in the ship _boston-packet_, capt. _marshall_. _also_, a variety of stone, china and glass ware, which will be sold very low at his shop next door north of the heart and crown in cornhill, _boston_. * * * * * imported in captain _skillings_ from _london_, and to be sold _by_ john symmes, _goldsmith_, near the golden ball, _boston, viz._ best shoe and knee buckles fluke and tongs, ruff and smooth files, bone buckle brushes, freezing punches, binding wire, steel top thimbles, cypher and brilliant button stones, cypher and brilliant ring stones, ring sparks, motto ring stones, amethysts, garnetts, brilliant and cypher earing stones, amethysts foyle, red & white do. stone bosom buckles, crusables, and black lead melting pots, &c. all cheap for cash. * * * * * november, . robert duncan begs leave to inform his customers and others, that he has removed from the store on the town dock to the shop lately improved by mr. _william palfrey_, next door northward of the sign of the heart and crown in cornhill. * * * * * a house to lett in _hawkins's_-street, near the sign of the parrot. inquire of edes and gill. * * * * * no. . a house at the north-end of the town, the corner of winnisimett ferry. * * * * * no. . one large double house at new-boston, near the sign of the ship. boston, st nov. . * * * * * aug. , . imported in the last ships from london, and to be sold by john townley, at the sign of the _wheat sheaff_, the corner of _wing's lane_, very cheap for cash; broad cloths, _yorkshire_ plains, cotton velvets and cut-velvet shapes, thicksetts, fustians, white jeans, figured and corded dimothys, silk and cotton gowns, stript linnens, _manchester_ checks, ruffells, calimancoes, tammys, durants, yard wide & prussian poplins, cross-bar'd stuffs, rich brunets, broglios, stript & plain camblets & cambleteens, lastings of all colours, bombazine, a fine assortment of _irish_ linnens, _english_ oznabrigs. * * * * * _imported in the last ships from_ london, _by_ =ebenezer coffin=, _and to be sold at the_ crown _and_ bee-hive, _opposite deacon_ phillips's _in_ cornhill, boston, _very cheap for ready cash, or on short credit_, a large assortment of best london, hard-metal and common pewter dishes, plates, basons, porringers, quart-pots, tankards, soup-kettles, communion flaggons and cups, christening basons, tea-pots and spoons, bed and close stool pans, measures, &c. * * * * * aug. , . _adino paddock_ chaise-maker, near the granary, has six second-hand chaises to sell; and as they take up much storage, he will sell them under their value. * * * * * aug. , . =benjamin russell= informs his customers and others, that he undertakes papering rooms and stair-cases in the best manner, at a reasonable rate.--any gentleman that has a mind to employ him in the neighbouring towns, may be serv'd by him (paying his travelling charges) at the same rate as those in _boston_.--said _russell_ has a number of window sashes by , lights in a window, to sell reasonably for cash,--they are made of the best of pine. --> said _russell_ lives the north-side of bacon-hill in _boston_, opposite to mr. _joseph callender's_, baker. * * * * * jan. , . to be sold by joseph palmer & co., at their store on _minot's_ t, spermaceti candles, _warranted_ _pure_--spermaceti in cakes--strain'd spermaceti oyl, by the quantity or cask--_philadelphia_ flour--english duck, cordage, &c. * * * * * a few firkins of choice good irish butter, to be sold by _blanchard_ & _hancock_, opposite the conduit.----likewise a large and good assortment of ironmongery, cutlery and pewter wares, just imported in the _lydia_, captain _scott_, from _london_--also, philadelphia and russia barr iron, &c. all at the very lowest rates for cash. * * * * * june , . good cyder to be sold by the barrel, or otherwise, at the _black boy & but_, by jonathan williams. * * * * * daniel jones, _at the_ hat _and_ helmit, _south-end_, boston, makes beaver and beaveret hats; has also english beaveret & castor, english and french felt hats, hat trimmings; an assortment of english goods suitable for all seasons of the year; a few boxes of looking-glasses; which he will sell by wholesale or retail at a moderate rate for cash, treasurer's notes, or short credit. _n.b._ said _jones_ desires those persons who have far exceeded their contracts either on book or notes of hand, to be very speedy in settling the same, or they will oblige him to the disagreeable necessity of putting them to trouble. * * * * * all persons that are indebted to the estate of _james mason_, late of _boston_, merchant, deceas'd, are desired to pay the same without delay to _jonathan mason_, executor to his will;--and those who have any demands on said estate, are desired to bring in their accompts to said executor, who has to sell at his house next door to the sign of the three kings in cornhill, the following goods belonging to the estate of the deceased, which will be sold at the first cost and charges, viz. broad cloths, german serges, bearskins, beaver coating, half-thick, red shagg, bayes, qr. and qr. blankets, shalloons, tammies, durants, calimancoes, worsted damasks, strip'd and plain camblets, strip'd swanskins, flannell, manchester velvet, womens ditto, bombazeen, allopeen, colour'd ruffells, hungarians, dimothy, crimson and green china, - th, yard wide and qr. cotton check, worsted and hair plush, men's and women's hose, worsted caps, mill'd ditto, black tiffany, women's and children's stays, cotton romalls, printed linnen handkerchiefs, black gauze ditto, bandanoes, silk lungee romalls, cambricks, lawns, muslins, callicoes, chints, buckrams, gulick irish and tandem holland, mens and womens kid and lamb gloves, black and white bone lace, capuchin silk, and fringe, gartering, silk and cotton laces, stript gingham, yellow canvas, diaper, damask table cloths and napkins, bedtick, - th garlix, soletare necklaces and earings, tapes, womens russel shoes, sewing silk, nutmegs, pepper, looking glasses, ticklinburg, english and russia duck, allum, copperas and brimstone, german steel, bar lead, english and india taffety, grograms, english and india damasks, padusoys, lutestrings, black and white sattin, rich brocade, gauze caps, and ruffles, shades and handsome silk cloaks, &.c. &c. &c. * * * * * aug. , . _andrew barclay_, at his house opposite the golden cock in marlborough-street, _boston_, binds books of all kinds, gilt and plain, in the neatest and best manner. gentlemen in town or country may depend upon having their work done with fidelity and dispatch. * * * * * . nov. .----nov. . _just imported in the ship_ thames, _captain_ watt, _from_ london, _by_ samuel franklin, _at the sign of the_ crown and razor, _south-end_, boston: best razors, pen-knives, scissars, shears, shoe-knives, shoe tacks and stampt awl blades, teeth instruments, lancets, white and yellow swords, and sword belts; case-knives and forks; ink powder and sealing-wax, files and rasps; horse sleams; hones and curling tongs; brass ink-pots, horn and ivory combs; white, yellow and steel shoe and knee buckles; gilt, lackered and plated coat and breast buttons, snuff boxes, and a few second hand hats, &c. all very cheap. n.b. razors, penknives and scissars ground, scabbards made for swords and bayonets, caseknife and fork blades made at said shop. _boston chronicle._ * * * * * . june .----june . wine to be sold _by_ rosanna moore, by wholesale and retail, at her wine cellar near liberty tree, boston, viz. old sterling madeira, lisbon, teneriff, claret, port, canary, malaga, tent, sweet and other wines, all in their original purity, and as cheap as any in town. _boston chronicle_, june , . * * * * * _just imported from_ london, _by_ _jolley allen,_ at his shop about midway between the governor's and the town-house, and almost opposite the _heart_ and _crown_ in cornhill, _boston._ a very large assortment of english and india goods, fit for all seasons, too many to be enumerated separately in an advertisement.---- _boston gazette_, feb. , . * * * * * whereas the co-partnership of chase & speakman is mutually dissolved, this is to desire all persons who are indebted to them to make speedy payment, and likewise all those who have any demands on said company, to call and receive their respective dues of t. chase, at the venerable liberty-elm. _boston chronicle_, may , * * * * * boston. this morning arrived here captain paddock, in a schooner from london, after a long passage. ***_the_ bostonian _came too late for this day's paper._ * * * * * stolen, from the side of the house, belonging to _richard silvester_, now the sign of the broken post, _newbury street_, boston, about half an hour past one o'clock in the morning of the th ult. a black and white horse, with a bridle, without a saddle.----the persons concerned in this frolick, who were seen and known, are desired to replace the said horse, in the manner and form they found him. and it is hoped, as he is a young creature, they will not corrupt his morals, by teaching him any of their bad tricks, but return him soon, as the owner will not allow any thing for his keeping. n.b. if he should bite or kick any that have him in possession; his former master now declares, he will not be answerable for the damages.----he was not imported from england, but manufactured in this land of liberty. _query._ whether the persons who knocked at said silvester's door, past three o'clock the same morning, in their return home, and cried thieves, were not accomplices in this _glorious_ exploit. _boston chronicle_, march , . * * * * * _to be sold by_ mary jackson & son, _at the brazen-head in cornhill, a few firkins of good butter, at s. d. per pound; also choice_ connecticut _pork, hogs fat, and cheese._ n.b. _all kind of braziers, cutlers, pewterers and ironmongery goods, wholesale and retail._ july , . * * * * * _wanted_ for a _house-keeper,_ a discreet elderly woman that can be well recommended, who understands dressing victuals, and the oeconomy of a large family where there are no children.--such a person will meet with _good_ encouragement, by applying to mein and fleeming. _boston chronicle_, dec. , . * * * * * to be sold by john crosby, lemmon-trader, at the sign of the _basket of lemmons_, at the south-end, choice good and fresh lisbon lemmons, equal to any in town for goodness, and as large in general as lemmons commonly are, at _four pounds_ o.t. _per_ hundred, and _ten shillings per_ single dozen. dec. , . * * * * * to be let, a handsome square shop, in _marshall's-lane_, near boston-stone, suitable either for a grocery, west-india or dry-goods shop--it will also accommodate any person in the mechanical line. inquire of the printer, or of giles richards and co. near the _mill-bridge_. march , . * * * * * picture of a boston mariner in . _to be sold_, [illustration] _by_ samuel thaxter, mathematical _instrument maker_, no. state-street, best brass sextant, latest improvement; hadley's quadrants, davis' do. brass azimuth amplitude and steering compas; brass surveying compas, wood, do. spy glasses; sea books, and charts; scales and dividers; surveying chains, &c. n.b. quadrants and compasses carefully repaired;--where gentlemen may depend on reasonableness and punctuality. march . * * * * * for sale, a small house-lot, in sisters-lane, very near the rev. dr. belknap's meeting-house. inquire of the printer. march . . * * * * * just imported, and to be sold by harbottle dorr, at his shop (adjoining to the house of mr. _martin gay_) almost opposite to the cornfields in union-street, boston, a fine assortment of braziery, ironmongery, and cutlery ware, by wholesale or retail, cheap for cash. _boston gazette_, july , . * * * * * a sermon suitable to distribute among tenants and servants:-- this day published, (_and sold by_ s. kneeland, _in queen-street_;) the care of the soul, urged as the one thing needful. a sermon first preached at the funeral of a young person, and afterwards before some worthy and excellent persons, who desired some printed copies of it, to disperse among their tenants and servants. _boston gazette_, nov. , . * * * * * goods exchanged for new england rum. barbados rum, | russia duck and sugars by the | pitch, tar, hogshead or barrel, | and bohea tea, | cordage. cotton wool by the bag, | long & short pipes. new flour, | sole leather. indigo. | english steel. --> dumb fish. | with, a general assortment of english goods and hard ware. many of the above articles will be exchang'd for new england rum, _by_ samuel allyne otis, at store no. , south-side of the town-dock. _boston gazette_, sept. , . * * * * * wigs advertised in salem, suitable to "grace and become judges, divines, lawyers, or physicians," and "rolls to raise the heads" of ladies "to any pitch they desire." this shop was probably patronized by judge and madam lynde, colonel pickman, dr. holyoke, dr. barnard, dr. hopkins, dr. whitaker, samuel curwen, judge ropes, john appleton, deacon holman, friend northey, and others. =william lang,= _wig-maker and hair-dresser,_ hereby informs the public, that he has hired a person from europe, by whose assistance he is now enabled, in the several branches of his business, to serve his good customers, and all others, in the most genteel and polite tastes that are at present in fashion in england and america.----in particular, wigs made in any mode whatever, such as may grace and become the most important heads, whether those of judges, divines, lawyers or physicians; together with all those of an inferior kind, so as exactly to suit their respective occupations and inclinations.----hair-dressing, for ladies and gentlemen, performed in the most elegant and newest taste.----ladies, in a particular manner, shall be attended to, in the nice, easy, genteel and polite construction of rolls, such as may tend to raise their heads to any pitch they desire,----also french curls, made in the neatest manner. he gives cash for hair. _essex gazette_, feb. , . * * * * * on the departure of governor hutchinson from the province of massachusetts in , a hundred and twenty-three citizens of boston, together with sundry citizens of salem, marblehead, and other places, signed a complimentary address to him, "lamenting the loss of so good a governor," and praising him for his character and conduct. most of these persons belonged to the better classes; but their action was judged to be, to say the least, hasty. shortly after this, these "addressors" were "hauled over the coals" by the patriots and forced to retract. the following cards from some of these gentlemen we take from the "essex gazette," a newspaper circulating in salem and cambridge. from the known character and standing of many of these persons, it is believed that they were glad of an opportunity of thus expressing their patriotism. the first blood of the revolution had not been shed when they signed this address to the governor, who they had hoped would be able to influence the british ministry so that war could be averted. but after the battles of lexington and concord there was no longer any hope of a reconciliation, and the "committee of safety," naturally wishing to be sure as to who were friends and who were enemies, took this method of ascertaining the fact and thereby satisfying the community. salem, may , . whereas we the subscribers did some time since sign an address to governor hutchinson, which, though prompted to by the best intentions, has nevertheless given great offence to our country; we do now declare that we were so far from designing by that action to show our acquiescence in those acts of parliament so universally and justly odious to all america, that on the contrary we hoped we might in that way contribute to their repeal, though now to our sorrow we find ourselves mistaken.--and we do now further declare that we never intended the offense which this address has occasioned, that if we had foreseen such an event, we should never have signed it; as it always has been and now is our wish to live in harmony with our neighbors, and our serious determination to promote to the utmost of our power, the liberty, the welfare and happiness of our country, which is inseparably connected with our own. john nutting, andrew dalgleish, n. goodale, thomas barnard, e.a. holyoke, nath. dabney, wm. pynchon, william pickman, eben'r putnam, c. gayton pickman, francis cabot, john turner, n. sparhawk. in committee of safety, salem, th may, . the declaration of which the above is a copy, being presented and read, it was voted unanimously that the same was satisfactory, and that the said gentlemen ought to be received and treated as real friends to this country. by order of the committee, richard derby, _jun., chairman_. * * * * * whereas i the subscriber was so unfortunate (some time since) as to sign an address to the late governor hutchinson, so universally, and so justly, deemed an enemy to american liberty and freedom, i hereby in this public manner declare that at the time i signed the said address, i intended the good of my country, and that only; but finding in my sorrow it had not that but quite a contrary effect, i hereby renounce the same address in every part, and hope my injured and afflicted fellow-countrymen will overlook my past misconduct, as i am ready to assist them in their struggles for liberty and freedom in whatever way i shall be called upon by them. londonderry, june , . john prentice. * * * * * _to the publick_: whereas i the subscriber signed an address to the late governor hutchinson, upon his leaving this province: i now declare my doing so was without any view of injuring the liberties of my country, which i ever held sacred; nor had i the least design of giving offence to any individual within the circle of my acquaintance, and had i conceived such an address would have been so generally disapproved of, i should by no means have signed it; and hope the publick will freely forgive this error in their humble servant. jonathan glover. * * * * * whereas i, the subscriber, signed an address to the late governor hutchinson,--_i wish the devil had had said address before i had seen it._ marblehead, october , . j. fowle. john prentice, of marblehead, signed a similar card the same day. * * * * * we have room but for one more of these political cards. the rev. samuel dana, of groton, appears to have been suspected of "toryism," and prints the following in the "essex gazette":-- "i, the subscriber, being deeply affected with the miseries bro't on this country by a horrid thirst for ill-got wealth and unconstitutional power,--and lamenting my unhappiness in being left to adopt principles in politics different from the generality of my countrymen; and thence to conduct in a manner that has but too justly excited the jealousy and resentment of the true sons of liberty against me, earnestly desirous, at the same time, to give them all the satisfaction in my power; do hereby sincerely ask forgiveness of all such for whatever i have said or done, that had the least tendency to the injury of my country, assuring them that it is my full purpose, in my proper sphere, to unite with them in all those laudable and fit measures that have been recommended by the continental and provincial congresses for the salvation of this country, hoping my future conversation and conduct will fully prove the up-rightness of my present professions. groton, may , . samuel dana. the town of groton voted that the above was satisfactory to the inhabitants, and that mr. dana "ought to enjoy the privileges of society," etc. * * * * * east boston, to be let, in the year . _noddle's island._ to be let, (for the term of one or more years, and entered upon, the th march next,) that valuable estate in the harbour of boston, known by the name of noddle's island. the advantages of its situation, soil, &c. &c. are so well known, as to render a detail thereof unnecessary.--for particulars, inquire of the printer, or of david s. greenough, at roxbury. feb. . _columbian centinel._ * * * * * gentlemen and ladies. [illustration] isaac greenwood, jun., takes this opportunity to inform you, that at his shop opposite the town-house, in salem, gentlemen may be supplyed with neat walking sticks; and ladies with umbrellas, neater and cheaper than those imported: he makes and mends umbrella sticks in the best manner. he earnestly wishes, for his profit and their good, that they would apply to him for teeth-brushes, and teeth-powder, which when used will recommend itself. said greenwood performs all kinds of turned work, in silver, such as tankards, cans, &c. also in brass, iron, ivory, turtle-shell, bone, horn, and wood of any sort or bigness. repairs violins; makes flutes, fifes, hoboys, clarinets, chaise-whips, tea-boards, bottle-stands, tamboy frames, back-gammon boxes men and dies, chess men, billiard-balls, maces, lemon squeezers, serenges, hydrometers, shaving boxes and brushes, buckle-brushes, ink-stands, paper-folders, sand-boxes, bannisters for stair-cases, &c. &c. &c. _salem gazette_, july , . * * * * * an appeal to "the sentimentalists of the town of salem," from the "gazette" of june , . "sentimentalists" would in these days be called book-buyers. by authority. _jewels and diamonds for_ sentimentalists. the sentimentalists of the town of salem, and all voluntiers, who are pleased to encourage the extensive propagation of polite literature, by the business of book auctioniering, which in all free states hath always been highly favoured with peculiar privileges, because it is the sublimest auxiliary which science, commerce, and arts either has, or perhaps ever will possess, are requested to observe, that _on thursday evening june st, , and for_ two more evenings successively, the following curious collection of valuable and scarce books, containing history, biography, voyages, travels, philosophy, mathematics, periodical papers, letters, essays, arts, sciences, novels and adventures, with poetic and dramatic entertainment, by the most celebrated ancient and modern authors, who have explored, investigated, and attempted to illuminate the human understanding with the god-like attribute of knowledge, _will be exhibited by auction, at mr._ goodhue's tavern in the town of _salem_, _by_ robert bell, _bookseller, provedore_ to the sentimentalists, and professor of book-auctioniering, who is just arrived from _philadelphia_, and will return thither in a few days. hours of exhibition by auction from six to ten each evening; when the jewels and diamonds will, instantaneously, either be sold or sacrificed, according to the taste of the company. printed catalogues of the books to be had at the time and place. n.b. on tuesday, or wednesday next week, the book-auctionier intends also to exhibit a collection of books by auction in the town of newbury-port; and sometime in the week after, he intends to exhibit another collection of books by auction in the town of portsmouth, the capital of the state of new-hampshire. * * * * * in the "herald of freedom," published in boston, is the following singular notice from osgood carleton:-- =osgood carleton,= having been frequently applied to for a decision of disputes, and sometimes wagers,[a] respecting the place of his nativity, and finding they sometimes operate to his disadvantage: begs leave to give this public information--that he was born in nottingham-west, in the state of new-hampshire--in which state he resided until sixteen years old; after which time, he traveled by sea and land to various parts, and being (while young) mostly conversant with the english, he lost some of the country dialect, which gives rise to the above disputes. [a] _several englishmen have disputed his being born in america._ boston, august , . * * * * * the singular taste for wax-work exhibitions which used formerly to prevail is shown in the following announcement from the "salem gazette," oct. , :-- wax-work. _mr. bowen_ respectfully acquaints the ladies and gentlemen of salem and its vicinity, that he has removed his exhibition from boston, where it met with universal applause. to-morrow evening at o'clock the door will be opened, and commence one of the most pleasing & innocent amusements, at the assembly room, _salem_. the numerous attractions of this admired collection having lately been increased by adding several excellent new figures, it is recommended to be worthy of the patronage and attention of a liberal public. mr. bowen, wishing immediately to gratify the inhabitants of this town and vicinity, begs leave to inform them that his residence here will be but a few days. it would be unnecessary to give a particular description of all the figures in this large exhibition; but among the most admired, we may enumerate, an excellent likeness of the president of the united states and his amiable lady, with a representation of the president supporting the union of liberty, justice, peace, and plenty. his excellency gov. hancock, who was one of the first of the patriotic members that signed the declaration of american independence--a sincere friend to his country. the celebrated _hamilton_, secretary of the treasury of the united states. three beautiful female figures, representing a _boston, rhodeisland, and philadelphia_ beauty. the unfortunate _baron_ trenck in real chains. doctor franklin, dressed in a suit of his own clothes, with about _twenty_ other figures in full stature. the exhibition will be open every day (except saturday evenings and sundays) from o'clock in the morning until in the evening. --> tickets of admission, at _one shilling and six pence_ for ladies and gentlemen, and _nine-pence_ for children under years of age, may be had at the door. _no reduction of the price will take place._ * * * * * wine advertised in a baltimore paper in . "--> _in good wine there is truth._" "the rosy god, ever attentive to the wants and wishes of his votaries here below, has for their use deposited in the hands of the subscriber (one of his _oldest tapsters_) some of his choicest gifts, the best produce of various vintages. such exhilarating beverage as, of old, cheered the hearts of gods and men.--a strict observance of the _seventh commandment_ is enjoined in the distribution. the fiat shall be obeyed, by the publick's most obliged and devoted servant, "thomas hepburn. _"baltimore, april , ."_ * * * * * in the "boston columbian centinel" josiah flagg, jun., advertises for "live teeth." [illustration] _josiah flagg_, jun. surgeon dentist: at the stone-house, beacon-street, _boston--_ continues his practise with useful improvements. assistance to the poor gratis. --> cash given for live teeth, and gold cobbs, or dust. may , . * * * * * it is curious to see how in "old times" things "got mixed up." the incongruity of putting together whalebone, bibles, and chip hats is only exceeded by a later advertisement we have seen of scott's bible sold at a lottery-office. this is from the "salem mercury" of :-- _next friday,_ at w.p. bartlett's office, will be sold at publick auction, a variety of shop goods and other articles: _among which are,_ a few pieces best india bandannoes----broadcloths in patterns--twill'd & plain corduroy--few doz. purple & white shawls--hair ribbons--coloured threads--n^o pins--irish linens--yellow serge--black lastings--whalebone--large and small bibles--chip hats--watch chains--bottled mustard--playing cards--green chairs--few pounds of nutmegs--men's worsted stockings, &c.--_sale to begin at o'clock_, a.m. * * * * * the following notice of the bradford academy from the "salem gazette" reminds us of the days of small prices,--"tuition $ ," or "$ . to those who paint and embroider"! _bradford academy._ the female apartment in bradford academy, half a mile from haverhill bridge, will be opened the first wednesday in may, under the direction of approved instructors. the male apartment will be continued as usual. young masters and misses will be instructed by such as are assigned to their respective apartments, in all the branches hitherto taught in that or in any other academy. the preceptor will spend less time than usual in the female apartment, and the preceptress will have an assistant. the price of tuition, except those who paint and embroider, will be three dollars a quarter. to those who paint and embroider, three dollars and fifty cents. very particular attention will be paid to inculcate virtuous sentiments and preserve the moral character of the scholars. bradford, april , . * * * * * husbands often advertise wives, but it is seldom that a wife publicly refuses to pay her husband's debts, as according to the following announcement from the "salem gazette," mistress sarah brooks did. this was before the days of "women's rights," too. the subscriber being apprehensive that her husband, john brooks, will contract debts on her account--this is to forbid any person trusting him on her account, as she will not satisfy any debt so contracted after this date--altho my compassion for him is such, that he shall not want for any thing i can help him to--knowing him to be a poor, forlorn young man. i cannot but pity his condition, and sincerely hope he will alter his way of life for the better--tear jealousy from his heart--bury in oblivion his unhappy temper--and take up a firm resolution, that he will turn from the error of his ways, to a better course of life, become a good citizen, a friend to his wife and children, and not hearken any more to his supposed friends (tho greatest enemies)--this is the sincere wish of the subscriber. sarah brooks. _marblehead, march , ._ * * * * * in the "salem gazette," oct. , , frederick jordis complains of "a certain greedy worshipper of plutus." whereas a certain greedy worshipper of plutus has attempted (canker worm like) to blast the tender bloom of my reputation, by misrepresenting an occurrence that took place between us on the third inst.--i take this method, as the most salutary remedy, to put a stop to its dangerous ravages. i will confess candidly every particular. sometime since, this man came to me with an account i had in vain demanded of him months ago for horse-hire; having compared it with my own memorandum, i found three charges over and above what i owed him, and the remainder a third higher than usual; finding him unwilling to diminish his unjust claim, i repaired to his house last thursday to settle with him, and paid him in full the amount of his bill, subtraction made of his three charges: perceiving his intention was to make me pay them again, i pocketed the bill; his pugilistick arguments to get it back again made me obstinately refuse it; and thanks to a gentleman then present, i escaped his dirty hands. unwilling to enter the field of themis with such an antagonist, i will place his receipted account into any impartial man's hands, and submit cheerfully to his decision. frederick jordis. * * * * * to show how factories were supplied with operatives in the early days of manufacturing in new england, we copy an advertisement from the "columbian centinel," march , . this is addressed especially to those parents "who can ill afford to maintain their children." how much better off our manufacturing towns would be if such a system were practicable now! _an exceeding good opportunity for parents_ (in these very expensive times for every necessary of life) _to provide their children with good and comfortable maintenance, cloathing, schooling, and a trade, but little known and understood in this country._ mr. erving proposes to receive as apprentices to the cotton & woolen manufactory (now going on at new-haven) any number of boys or girls, from the age of ten to fourteen. they will be instructed in all the various branches of the factory, well cloathed and fed, and taught to read, write and cypher; and parents may be assured that the most particular attention will be paid to the morals, as well as to the education, of their children. those who can but ill afford to maintain their children, have now an opportunity of binding them to a trade which must, in a few years, be peculiarly beneficial to them and advantageous to their country. mr. erving will thank those that have an inclination to put their children out, to call on him, at his house, no. marlborough-street, boston, where they can be more particularly informed of the nature of the factory, and the advantages which must eventually accrue to their children from a general knowledge of this useful branch of business. march , . * * * * * _the following lines were written in the shop of the subscriber, by a son of st. crispin, viewing with contempt the tyrannical and oppressive disposition of a man who has threat'ned vengeance on his neighbour's business, because the article he deals in is_ shoes. salem, th mo. th, . oh shame! that man a dog should imitate, and only live, his fellow man to hate. an envious dog, once in a manger lay, and starv'd himself, to keep an ox from hay, altho' thereof he could not eat-- yet if the ox was starv'd, to him 'twas sweet. his neighbor's comfort thus for to annoy, altho' thereby he did his own destroy. oh! man, such actions from the page erase, and from thy breast malicious envy chace. -->_twenty per cent was struck off at one clip, from those kind of shoes, which are mostly worn. it is fifteen months since the shoe war commenced._ j. mansfield, d. a general assortment of shoes for sale as usual, at a living profit. _salem register._ * * * * * _appropriate mourning._ in consequence of the late afflicting event of the death of the much lamented general _hamilton_, tucker & thayer will sell their black italian crape at the reduced price of one dollar per yard - wide:-- "_god takes the_ good, _too good on earth to stay_, "_and leaves the_ bad, _too bad to take away!_" _columbian centinel_, july , . * * * * * bad effects of the abolition of slavery in providence, r.i. _from the providence gazette._ messrs. printers, you will oblige a number of your customers, by publishing the following advertisement in the next gazette. _five hundred dollars reward._ was mislaid, or taken away by mistake (soon after the formation of the abolition society) from the servant girls of this town, all inclination to do any kind of work;--and left in lieu thereof, an impudent appearance, a strong and continued thirst for high wages, a gossiping disposition for all sorts of amusement, a leering and hankering after persons of the other sex, a desire of finery and fashion, a never ceasing trot after new places more advantageous for stealing--with number of contingent accomplishments that do not suit the wearers. now if any person or persons will restore to the owners that degree of honesty and industry, which has been for some time missing, he or they shall receive the reward of five hundred dollars, beside the warmest blessings of many abused and insulted householders. _providence, oct. , ._ * * * * * parents in boston cautioned against thorn-apples in "columbian centinel," oct. , . _caution!_ the inspector of police, respectfully makes known to parents and others, that of late, several children have very much injured themselves, by eating the seeds of stramonium, or thorn-apple, commonly called devil's apple; who must inevitably have died, had they not been speedily relieved by emetics, &c. as those bushes are in several parts of the town, it would be well, if they were destroyed. * * * * * rabbits a curiosity in . _curious living animals._ mr. gilbert informs the public that he has purchased, at considerable expense, a collection of living animals, harmless and playful. a large baboon, which is allowed to be the most curious animal of its kind, ever seen in america. a porcupine, bear, rackoon and rabbit, which are also very great curiosities. --> the collection may be seen every day (except sundays) from o'clock in the afternoon until sunset, at the _granary_, head of the _mall, boston_. _admittance_ nine pence _for ladies and gentlemen, and half price for children._ may . _columbian centinel._ * * * * * mourning badge for washington. a very ingenious and elegant mourning vignette, stamped on sattin ribbon, for the purpose of being worn by the ladies on public occasions, is for sale at mr. _thomas brewer's_ shop in cornhill. the device contains a profile bust of the deceased washington in an obelisk, with the trophies of war, and the arms of the u.s.; round the monument are nymphs in the posture of mourning; and on the base are inscribed in legible characters the initials of his name, and the date of his birth and death. _e. russell's gazette, jan. , ._ * * * * * temple of fame in boston, with a real eagle, in . _temple of fame._ mr. bowen respectfully informs the public that the museum is again opened, with additions and improvements. an excellent figure of gen. washington will appear in a temple of fame, expressive of the late melancholy event.--the young ladies which represent the _sister states_ (with a real eagle hovering over) will be seen with suitable alterations:--with a variety of rural decorations of _groves_ and _forests_. _jan. ._ _boston gazette._ * * * * * families used to live in state street, boston, in . --> _a_ family in state-street, that does not make a business of keeping boarders, will accommodate a couple of gentlemen, who are disposed to make themselves agreeable in a private family. apply at the office of the daily advertiser. _daily advertiser and polar star_, dec. . * * * * * copley's paintings at auction in . this day, (_at ten in the morning_,) will be sold by public vendue at russell & clap's auction-room, _court street_, a variety of elegant paintings, &c.--principally by the ingenious mr. copley.--also, an electrical machine, a glass case for a shop, &c. _columbian centinel_, aug. . * * * * * the way they compromised with creditors in . _to the public._ whereas by misfortunes, together with expenses of law suits, with honest pride i acknowledge i am not worth one cent in the world, and of course cannot pay my debts. but through the assistance of friends, i am now accommodated with a shop, and necessary tools to carry on my business, in _cambridge-port_; where i shall be happy to execute any kind of work for those i am indebted to, at the lowest cash price, on this condition--that i am paid one half of what the work comes to, in cash, when delivered. but if my creditors will allow me time, and my health is spared, i have no doubt i shall soon be able to pay twenty shillings on the pound to them, in cash. to those gentlemen i am not indebted to, i solicit of them a share of their work, assuring them, that whatever engagements i make, shall be executed punctually, and in a workmanlike manner, by their humble servant, richard gridley. _cambridge-port_, sept. , . --> the printers of newspapers in boston are requested to publish the above, provided they will receive their pay in smith's work. _columbian centinel._ * * * * * on the th of january, , mr. briggs advertises in the "salem gazette" and thanks "the good people of the county of _essex_ for their spirited exertions in bringing down the trees of the forest for building the frigate. in the short space of four weeks, the full complement of timber has been furnished." he ends by saying:-- "next september is the time when we'll launch her from the strand, and our cannon load and prime with tribute due to talleyrand." * * * * * the following advertisement appeared in the papers in , in reference to the building of the frigate "essex":-- the _salem frigate_. [illustration] take notice! ye sons of freedom! all true lovers of the liberty of your country! step forth, and give your assistance in building the frigate, to oppose french insolence and piracy. let every man in possession of a _white oak tree_, be ambitious to be foremost in hurrying down the timber to salem, and fill the complement wanting, where the noble structure is to be fabricated, to maintain your rights upon the seas, and make the name of america respected among the nations of the world. your largest and longest trees are wanted, and the arms of them for knees and rising timber. four trees are wanted for the keel, which all together will measure feet in length, and hew inches square. please to call on the subscriber, who wants to make contracts for large or small quantities, as may suit best, and will pay the ready cash. _enos briggs._ salem, nov. , . * * * * * cash given for one ton copper, in pigs, or old copper-- tons best old sable or swedes iron. apply to the subscriber. also--_wanted_, a _blacksmith_, to contract for doing all the iron work of the _salem frigate_. *** proposals therefor, will be received from any smith, sealed and directed to john jenks. _salem, nov. ._ * * * * * in the "gazette" of oct. , , appears the following brief account of the launching of the "essex;" also a communication in reference to the frigate. salem, tuesday, october , . yesterday the frigate essex, of guns, was launched from the stocks, in this town. she went into the water with the most easy and graceful motion, amidst the acclamations of thousands of spectators, and a federal salute from her guns on the hill, returned by an armed ship in the harbour, commanded by capt. thomas williams. the committee acting for the subscribers, col. hacket, the superintendant, and mr. briggs, the master builder, have thus the satisfaction of producing to their country as fine a ship, of her size, as graces the american navy. it is not yet known who will command her; but it is on all hands agreed that she is well calculated to do essential service to her country. * * * * * _communication._ _and_ adams _said_, "let there be a navy!" _and there was a navy._ to build a navy was the advice of our venerable sage. how far it has been adhered to, is demonstrated by almost every town in the united states, that is capable of floating a _galley_ or a _gun boat_. salem has not been backward in this laudable design. impressed with a due sense of the importance of a navy, the patriotic citizens of this town put out a subscription, and thereby obtained an equivalent for building a vessel of force. among the foremost in this _good work_ were messrs. derby and gray, who set the example by subscribing ten thousand dollars each. but alas! the former is no more--we trust his _good deeds follow him_. such was the patriotic zeal with which our citizens were impressed, that in the short space of six months they contracted for the materials and equipment of a frigate of guns, and had her completed yesterday for launching. the chief part of the timber was standing but six months ago--and in a _moment_, as it were, "_every grove descended_," to put in force the patriotic intentions of those at whose expense she was built. yesterday the stars and stripes were unfurled on board the frigate essex, and at o'clock she made a majestic movement into her destined element, there to join her sister craft in repelling foreign aggressions, and maintaining the _rights_ and _liberties_ of a "great, free, powerful & independent nation." the concourse of spectators was immense; and the averted face of jacobinism was not seen depicted on the countenance of a single one;--but on the contrary, the heart-felt satisfaction of the beholders of this magnificent spectacle, was evinced by the concording shouts and huzzas of thousands, which reiterated from every quarter. the unremitting zeal of mr. briggs, the architect of this beautiful ship, cannot be too highly applauded. his assiduity, in bringing her into a state of such perfection, in so short a time, entitles him to the grateful thanks of his country; and we fondly hope that his labours have not been spent in vain, for we may truly say that he has not _given rest to the sole of his foot_, since her keel was first laid. * * * * * the "massachusetts mercury," dec. , , says:-- the frigate _essex_, of guns, capt. prebble, sailed from _salem_ on sunday morning last for _newport_. she saluted _fort pickering_, which returned the salute. she sails remarkably well. * * * * * at "no. , honesty side," salem, dry goods were to be had in . _john h. keith_ informs the inhabitants of salem and its environs, that on the th day of april next ensuing, he intends opening a shop for the purpose of vending dry goods, _no , honesty side_. constantly for sale, american, french, english, italian, dutch and india manufactures, from the coarse _tow cloth_ to the fine _cobweb muslin_.--said keith will attend personally from the _sun's oriental ascension_ to its _occidental declination_.--to prevent a superfluity of _words_, he observes that there will be only one price for his goods at _retail_, and another for _wholesale_, and that _cash_ will be the staple commodity receivable at his bank. bills of any of the states will be received, provided the stockholders are known to be good and _responsible men_. march . _salem gazette_, april . * * * * * the "worcester spy" in had the following quaint advertisement:-- _honesty is the best policy._ the gentleman night walker, alias night villain, who of late has frequented the slaughter house of lemuel rice, and taken therefrom a considerable quantity of fresh beef, is informed, that if he comes forward, in a gentleman like manner, and settles for the same, his name shall not be exposed; but, if he neglects this friendly hint, he must shortly expect to be complimented by a warrant, which will give him that _reward his_ labors justly _merit_. _worcester, april th, ._ * * * * * the "grand lodge." paul revere, master, has the following notice in the "massachusetts centinel:"-- _grand lodge._ [illustration] the officers and members of the grand lodge, and the representatives of lodges, are hereby requested to attend a quarterly communication at concert-hall in boston, on the evening of monday, the th march, at o'clock. by order of the most worshipful paul revere, g. master. daniel oliver, g. secretary. boston, feb. , . * * * * * a remarkable dog is on exhibition in salem, march , . the sapient dog. _at washington-hall_, to-morrow evening. the extraordinary sagacity of this animal, supercedes the necessity of puffing advertisements or exaggerated bills--that the sapient dog is a great curiosity, the proprietor feels no hesitation in affirming, that his feats of activity are more various and pleasing than any preceding exhibition of a similar nature, all of which will be made manifest to every spectator, by his dexterity and precision in exhibiting the following performances--viz. _he illuminates the exhibition room, himself, by lighting his own lamps._ by means of typographical cards, (in the same manner as a printer composes,) _he spells, and reads print or writing._ by any person's watch in the company, _tells the time of the day,_ both the hour and minutes--the date of the year, day of the month, and week, and distinguishes colours. as an arithmetician, _he adds, subtracts, divides and multiplies,_ tells how many persons there are present, _discharges a loaded cannon, and jumps through a hoop._ to conclude--the proprietor will suffer any lady or gentleman in the company, to make choice of a card, and the dog, notwithstanding the face of both packs are concealed from him, will discover the card so drawn. --> tickets at cents, to be sold at cushing & appleton's book-store, children half price.--no money received at the door. _gazette._ * * * * * the "shaksperian society" of boston has "new revised" articles in , according to the following notice to members:-- shaksperian society. take notice--all persons who have regularly been balloted for, as members of the above society, who have not yet signed the articles, since their being new revised, must attend this evening, and execute the same, or they will not be admitted as members thereof. members of the above society are requested to attend early on particular business. by order, march , . j. robinson, sec'y. * * * * * connecticut "election goods." the subscriber refers the generous public to his late advertisements to be informed of the articles he still continues to sell by wholesale and retail; and also respectfully informs them, that he has just come to hand, a fresh assortment of chintzes and callicoes, gentlemen's fancy waistcoating, silk romal, buff and other shawls, printed jeans, cotton and linen handkerchiefs, a variety of ribbons, all of a late importation; nankeens of a superior quality, and cheaper by nine pence in the single piece than can be purchased in new-york by the quantity. among his fancy patterns for ladies are, the covent garden cross-bar, the renelagh full moon, the prussian stormont, harlequin's motto, and an olive check inclosing four lions rampant and three flours de luce; and for gentlemen's waistcoating, the sportsman's fancy, the prince of wales's new-market jockey, and the modest pale blue. he doubts not in the least, but that among the great variety of figures he has, every fancy may be suited; and as for the prices, he makes not the least hesitation to assert, they will be approved.--he also has taken the greatest pains to procure for young masters and misses such cloths and figures as will be durable, pleasing, and well suited to the approaching general election. thomas tisdall. n.b. a few pair of gentlemen's doe skin hunting gloves, and choice old spirits by the gallon; a _little_ of which may be used as a cordial. _hartford, next door south of mess. hudson_ } _and goodwin's printing-office, ._ } _the crooked staff of life._ pure, mild and unadulterated st. croix rum, to be sold by the hogshead, barrel or lesser quantity, on pleasing terms, for one of the great essentials, _solid coin_, by the public's very humble servant, next door to hudson and goodwin's printing-office. thomas tisdale. _connecticut courant_, may , . * * * * * _republican beef._ the subscriber respectfully informs the citizens of hartford, that he has purchased the fattest ox and cow perhaps in connecticut, which will be killed and ready for sale for the ensuing election, at a low price for the times. those who wish to purchase _real good beef_, will please to apply to william brown. april , . _connecticut courant._ * * * * * nantucket wit and humor on the th of july, in the year . a grand touch. the last nantucket inquirer contains the following advertisement:-- at the sign of the eastern pine, where the red and the white combine. john peters, a descendant of the famous english divine, hugh peters, informs all the tidy citizens of nantucket, that apollo and the graces came over in the last packet, and have taken up their abode at the corner of pearl and water streets. he officiates as high priest in their temple, where it is his delightful task to adorn the outward man, to _shave_ off excrescences, and trim into proportion the shrubbery which nature has reared around the headpieces of mankind.--by a judicious application of the _scissors_ of discrimination, the _soap_ of good nature, the _brush_ of reform, and the _razor_ of decision, he expects to bring about results which, like powers of the steam engine are, as yet, only dreamed of. the grace of the athenian beau and the dignity of the roman senator shall be so intermingled in the _grand contour_ of all who submit to his touch, that the _toute ensemble_ cannot fail to kindle love and command respect. * * * * * charles hardy, _street sweeper_, takes this method publicly to return his grateful thanks to his friends of marlborough street, cornhill, &c. for their kindness to him during the past season; not only in patronizing him while able to perform his usual labors, but in assisting him while under the influence of a distressing and debilitating disease. he has grown old in the service of the inhabitants of boston, and they do not forget him--they do not cast him off, or suffer him to become an inmate of the alms-house; and although _he is an african_, he will not be guilty of the _blackest_ of sins--that of ingratitude. he humbly solicits a continuance of their favors, to enable him to buffet the inclemency of the approaching season, (when his regular employment fails) and flatters himself he shall still be able to sustain that character of fidelity which the partiality of his friends has bestowed upon him. boston, _nov. , ._ _columbian centinel._ * * * * * the subscriber wishes to notify his old honourable customers, who practise stealing and destroying his fruit every year, that his water mellons are now almost ripe; and if they do not as usual destroy the fruit and vines immediately, they will get entirely ripe; and then some body or other will be the better for them, which will be a grievous mortification to those manly gentlemen. ezra griswold. simsbury, august , . _connecticut courant._ * * * * * removal. samuel mylod informs his friends and the public that he has removed from danvers to the building belonging to mrs. _martha procter_, near buffum's corner, salem, where he colours all kinds of wearing apparel. silks cleansed from spots or injury from sea. n.b. pickles that will keep the longest voyage, for sale. oct. . _salem gazette, ._ * * * * * in "old times" even publishers were sometimes short of money, and ready to barter with their subscribers. so celebrated a character as isaiah thomas, of the "worcester spy," was occasionally obliged to give "hints" to his "delinquent customers and postriders." the latter were distributers of papers to country customers. _to delinquent customers._ -->_serious times--or the_ printer _without_ money--_or a final hint to_ delinquent customers _and_ postriders!<-- the subscriber has frequently given _hints_ to his _delinquent customers_ and _postriders_, that he was in want of cash and has repeatedly invited all indebted to him to come forward and make an immediate settlement, without being put to any _extra cost_--he now, for the last time, informs all that are indebted to him for _newspapers_, _advertisements_, _&c. &c._ that an immediate settlement must be made, and all who disregard this notice, may depend upon having their notes and accounts put into the hands of an attorney. to accommodate those who cannot pay money, the following articles will be received until the first of january, , viz. _corn_, _rye_, _wheat_, _oats_, and _wood_--those who have not the above articles, and who cannot make it convenient to pay the money at present, their notes will be received, payable in _three months_, provided they are given previous to the _second wednesday_ in _march_ next. isaiah thomas, jun. _worcester_, november , . * * * * * _to be sold_, _and entered upon next april,_ the house and land now occupied by the subscriber, pleasently situated at a very public corner, in the main street, at the west part of the town.----after serving the public faithfully, for several years, as a private soldier in the army, and suffering most intolerable hardships, i am now, on account of my country's unfaithfulness, in not paying what they owe me, obliged to sell the house which belonged to my ancestors, in order to pay my debts, and to retire to an obscure hut at some distance from the town. joseph metcalf. _salem gazette_, . * * * * * an advertisement like the following is not only "quaint or curious," but it is also rare:-- one evening last week, a piece of gold was passed, through mistake, at beverly ferry, to asa leech's ferryman, with coppers, for a copper.----the owner may have it again, applying to said leech, telling the marks, and paying the charges. _beverly, sept. , ._ _salem gazette._ * * * * * in a "learned pig" was in salem, and we notice that about the same time a learned dog was exhibited. _for ten days only._ mr. pinchbeck respectfully informs the inhabitants of salem, that he has just arrived in this town with that great natural curiosity, the pig of knowledge, and flatters himself, after exhibiting before the president of the united states with unbounded applause, and in every principal city in the union, to have the honour of gratifying such ladies and gentlemen in this place, as may favour him with their company. _this extraordinary animal will actually perform the following surprising particulars, viz._ he reads print or writing, spells, tells the time of day, both the hours and minutes, by any person's watch in the company, the date of the year, the day of the month, distinguishes colours, how many persons there are present, ladies or gentlemen, and to the astonishment of every spectator, will answer any question in the four first rules of arithmetick. to conclude, any lady or gentleman may draw a card from a pack, and keep it concealed, and the pig without hesitation will discover the card when drawn. those who doubt the truth of the above are informed in case it don't answer every expectation the advertisement can excite, and prove a real living animal, shall have the money returned, or be at liberty to pay after they have convinced themselves by seeing him perform. to be seen in a convenient room under the western side of concert-hall, market-street. _admittance, for grown persons, one quarter of a dollar.----children half price._ n.b. strict attention paid to keep the place fit for the reception of ladies. may , . _salem gazette._ * * * * * this is a quiet way of asking a favor; taken from a paper of :-- --> mr. lang would thank the person that took a _camblet cloak_ from his entry the last summer to return it, as he expects to want it the approaching cold weather. * * * * * mr. george w. felt seems not to have been accustomed to show much gallantry, judging from his notice in the "salem gazette," sept. , . _whereas two girls were seen taking_ apples _from the subscriber's field, on sunday last, in north fields, so called, if they will call and settle for the same, this day, they will avoid further trouble!_ george w. felt. _salem, sept. , ._ * * * * * females seem to have been often in difficulty in "old times," as appears from some of the advertisements, of which we give a few specimens. but perhaps this was due in part, at least, to "kleptomania,"--a disease then but little understood. --> _the_ female, _who a few days since took_ _pair of_ slippers _from a shop in old paved street, is_ requested _to return them, and no questions will be asked; if she does not return them in days she will hear from the owner another way._ jan. , . * * * * * _the female who offered a counterfeit seven dollar bill at mr. dow's shop, on wednesday afternoon, and afterwards passed it upon a small lad at another shop, is desired to call and exchange the same, if she wishes to avoid trouble, as her name is known._ _nov. , ._ * * * * * the female that took from the shop of the subscriber on monday, th of june, four pair cotton hose, is requested to return them to prevent further exposure. june , . john rust. * * * * * an indiscreet and ungrateful servant advertised as missing. we take the following from the "columbian centinel," sept. , :-- [illustration] a good _likeness_ of _sancho_, a negro man, thirty years of age, about feet high, very black complexion, good teeth, not corpulent, but well formed, and of erect position of body & a _fast walker_, who absented himself (supposed to have been inveigled away by some artful villains for their own use and benefit) upon the evening of the th inst. from his master, winthrop sargent, late governor of the missisippi territory. he had learned the trade of a barber, and is in every respect a most accomplished servant for a gentleman or a family; was born and educated in his master's house; endeared to _him_, his _mistress_, and his own _wife_ and _children_, as well as the numerous blacks of his master's plantations, by long, affectionate, and faithful services, and ere this _solitary_ instance of malconduct, there was not a single doubt entertained that the attachments were mutual and inviolable. if he voluntarily returns to the service of his master, he shall be received with wonted kindness and affection, but no expense will be spared to punish to the utmost limits of the law, all persons who may be accessory in harboring or concealing him, and the sum of fifty dollars shall be paid to any person who will apprehend and deliver him to his master, or in his absence to mr. ignatius sargent, in _boston_; to messrs. g. & t. aspinwalle, in _new-york_; or col. hodgdon, in _philadelphia_;--or the sum of one hundred dollars for delivering him to mr. david urquhart, merchant, _new-orleans_. winthrop sargent. * * * * * _unguiology._ just received, and for sale at the printing-office of belcher & armstrong, no. , _state-street_, and at the several bookstores--a few copies of that rare and valuable work, "a translation of doctor _gasper gall la'veytur's_ unguiology, or the doctrine of _toe-nails_." the various editions, languages, and countries, through which this publication has passed almost in rapid succession, exceed calculation. gentlemen of literature are invited to apply in season, as the work is under restriction and cannot be reprinted in this country. foreign reviews speaking of it say, "the ingenuity of doctor _gasper gall la'veytur's_ unguiological system exceeds the capacity of our praise. it is impossible for any one of judgment and penetration to read this work without being convinced that the seat of the soul is in the toe-nails; the superior advantages which this index has over physiognomy and craniology are made most incontrovertibly evident to the most common comprehension." _price_ - / _cents_. august . _centinel_, . * * * * * the really curious collection of the columbian museum is advertised in the "boston chronicle," dec. , . late additions to the columbian museum, _at the head of the mall_, boston. mr. bowen informs the public, that he has purchased mr. paff's much admired exhibition of _concert clocks_, _which are placed at the head of the_ museum hall, _as a valuable and pleasing addition to that very extensive repository of curiosities._ . a canary bird, which sings a variety of beautiful songs, minuets, marches, &c. natural as life. . a company of _automatum figures_, which dance to the music of an harpsichord. . three figures, which play the organ and clarinet in concert. . three figures, which play the harpsichord and hautboys, in concert. . king herod beheading john the baptist, and his daughter holding a charger to receive the head. . a chimney sweep and his boy on the top of a chimney. . three figures which strike the hours and quarters. . a butcher killing an ox. _the above concert clocks have been exhibited in new-york, with universal applause, and are well worthy the attention of the citizens of boston and the public in general._ the musuem also contains the most extensive collection of _elegant paintings_, that ever was exhibited in the united states, some of which are by feet, elegantly framed, and valued from to dols. also--_a collection of upwards of_ elegant figures of waxwork, large as life, among which are the following (the most interesting) viz. the late king of france, taking an affectionate leave of his family just before he suffered under the guillotine: the queen appears in a rage of distraction--the king's sister deeply affected--the young princess is fainting--and the dauphin is embracing his unhappy father--the queen's maid of honor also appears in great distress. a guard of soldiers are waiting to conduct him to the place of execution. this is an affecting scene which appears as natural as the life, and is the most interesting group of wax figures that ever was exhibited to the united states. george washington, late president of the united states, is elegantly situated in the centre of the museum hall, surrounded by four beautiful _wax figures_, representing liberty, with the staff and cap--justice, with the sword and balance--peace, with the olive branch extended and plenty, with a cornucopia, or horn of plenty, loaded with fruit. dr. franklin, sitting at a table, with the late dr. stiles, president of yale college, connecticut. the _new-york beauty_. the _sleeping nymph_. a tea party of young ladies, with a servant negro girl. the _salem beauty_. _maternal affection_, or a lady with two beautiful children. the _boston beauty_. _sir charles grandison_ and _miss harriet byron_. _charlotte_ weeping at the tomb of _werter_.--_humphreys_ and _mendoza_, the celebrated english boxers. the domestic cottager, at the spinning wheel. the venerable _john s. hutton_, who lately died in philadelphia, aged years and months, drest with the same cloathes which he wore when living, with his own cane, pipe, tobacco-box, &c. the assassination of marat, by the beautiful miss charlotte corde, in france. two greenwich pensioners. the late unfortunate baron trenck, loaded with large iron chains in a real prison. an indian warrior, with his tomahawk, belts of wampum, &c. two chinese mandarines, drest in the modern stile of that country. also, two mandarines, deposited in the museum, for sale. _with a great variety of_ natural and artificial curiosities; among which are a great variety of _birds_, _live owls_, _beasts_, _reptiles_, _serpents_, (one of which is a rattle-snake, years of age, and feet in length,) _insects_, _diamond beetle_, _glass frigates_, two feet in length, compleatly rigged and mounted with glass guns, &c. the _museum_ has lately received the principal additions for this season--it is opened every day, (except sundays) and illuminated every _tuesday_, _thursday_, and _friday_ evenings. * * * * * notice to the economical, from the "salem mercury," july , . --> save your rags! and send them to the printing office; you will there receive for what you think of no service, money _enough_, which, in effect, is the same as having money for nothing, and is certainly better than to be at the trouble of sweeping rags away. if this _beloved_ argument is thought insufficient to procure them, then only think of the virtue of serving your country! * * * * * "beauties" to be seen. new additions. the boston museum, north side the _market_, has lately received many very valuable additions, among which are the _philadelphia_, _new-york_, and _salem_ beauties, and a number of other figures.--_also_, a variety of natural curiosities, among which are the skin of the _sea-elephant_, in natural preservation, which measures feet in length, and feet round the body, &c. the skin of the african _lion_, a _calf_ with legs, bodies, and one head, in natural preservation, &c. &c. museum opened every day and evening, saturdays and sundays excepted. --> _admittance to the museum, cents._ the invisible lady, and acoustic temple, continues to be exhibited among the other curiosities, at cents admittance. june . _columbian centinel_, . * * * * * a case of short weight of a load of hay is gravely advertised in the "columbian centinel" by the town-weigher mr. russell, this day came ezekiel kingsbury, jun., of dedham, with a load of hay to be weighed, which was accordingly done. after it was weighed, he drove it off round mr. _greenleaf's_ corner, where he stopped. mr. _jonathan trask_, truckman, wanted to purchase a load of hay--went and tried to bargain with him for it, and as he was going towards the hay, he perceived a man raise his head on the top of the load, by the name of _draper_, of said town. he accordingly came to me and told me of it. i went in pursuit of _kingsbury_, and overtook him just before he got to the granary, and ordered him back to the scales to have his load weighed again, which weighed one hundred and an half less that it did before.--the several printers are requested to insert the above, to prevent further impositions on the publick. hopestill foster, hay-weigher. _boston, dec. , ._ * * * * * it seems to have been the fashion in "old times" with people who had articles stolen from them to advertise in the papers, requesting the thief or thieves to make restitution. probably this was the surest method of recovery, in the absence of the detective system. joseph tyler in the "boston gazette," nov. , , is inclined to be sarcastic, and samuel brazer, of worcester, in , is witty, but modest. as to stealing psalm-books, no one would dream of doing such a thing in these days. our modern thieves are not interested in devotional books; they prefer "yellow-covered literature." joseph tyler _desires the person that borrowed his surtout to return it, if it is not worn out_. . * * * * * taken out of the pew, no. , in the rev'd mr. barnard, senior's meeting-house, about a month since, a psalm-book. the person is desired to return it, otherwise may depend upon being exposed. _essex gazette_, sept. , . * * * * * _a modest request!_ the two obliging _ladies_, who on the night of monday, the th ultimo, between six and seven o'clock in the evening, took from the store of the subscriber (_not by mistake_) five barcelona handkerchiefs, are desired to return them immediately, _with satisfactory remuneration_, or the next notice they receive will come "_greeting_." samuel brazer. _worcester_, december , . * * * * * the person who took six pair of shoes, one day last week, under a false name, from a shop in essex street, would do well, if they wish to avoid difficulties, to return them immediately. salem, july . _salem gazette_, . * * * * * _the person who yesterday, at dusk, took a piece of black_ velvet _from the shop board of the subscribers, is well known. he has now an opportunity of returning it, and if not immediately done, shall suffer the penalty of the law._ j. & i. newhall. salem, nov. , . * * * * * pictures like the following could be seen in the "essex gazette" in (may ). [illustration] ran away from the subscriber, on the th of may, a negro man named _cato_, of a middling stature, has lost the sight of his left eye, had on a kersey jacket and leather breeches. whoever shall take up said negro, and bring him to his master in salem, shall have two dollars reward, and all charges paid, by _william hunt._ * * * * * vessels were accommodated at "rotting row," in salem, in , and we presume there is room for some now. several births for vessels are vacant at rotting row, the tides are favorable and the dockage so extremely low, good and safe, as to make it an object for any one to haul his vessel there to winter. salem, nov. . * * * * * it used to be common in the early part of this century to see such goods as "mamoodies," "chittabully baftas," etc., advertised in the salem and boston papers. john stone, _has for sale,_ _front street,_ one bale mugga mamoodies; do. madras pat handkerchiefs; do. aleabad mowsannas; do. do. mamodies; do. chittabully baftas; do. jollopour sannas; do. bandannas; imported in the ship union, capt. osgood, from calcutta, and of the first chop. _sept. , ._ in another advertisement we notice "guzzenahs, allebad emerty, taundah khassah, mahge gunge." these are all india cottons. * * * * * it seems strange to us now, when we see so many boot-blacks everywhere, to learn that in the "craft" advertised in the papers, as did "wood-sawyers," too, about the same time. as coal had not then been introduced into salem, everybody burned wood, so that wood-sawing was an occupation of considerable importance. during the war of wood became rather scarce, and some people used dried turf, or peat, as it was called, for fuel. boots and shoes cleaned. york morris respectfully informs the gentlemen of salem, that he has taken the shop one door west of the sun tavern, where he will be happy to clean their boots and shoes in the best manner, and at the shortest notice.----he will keep constantly for sale _liquid blacking_ of a very superior quality, in jugs and bottles. also, a composition, with which he cleans _ladies'_ walking shoes. april . this york morris was father of the boston colored lawyer, robert morris. * * * * * _boots and shoes cleaned._ thomas jones respectfully informs the gentlemen of salem, that he has taken the shop (recently occupied by york morris) two doors west of the sun tavern, where he will be happy to clean their boots and shoes in the best manner, and at the shortest notice. salem, june . * * * * * wood-sawing. the subscriber, being under the interdict of a non-intercourse law, his horses and waggons hauled into dry dock, will no longer carry freight between salem and boston; but, "abandoning the ocean altogether," he respectfully offers his services to his federal friends, with his saw and wooden horse, and shall be obliged to them to call upon him when they have any wood to cut. orders will be received at his dwelling, near the court-house. john l. matthews. --> wanted to hire--two smart men. june [ ]. * * * * * specific for a "religious hydrophobia" in . _cochranism delineated,_ or a description of, and specific for, a religious hydrophobia, which has spread & is still spreading in a number of towns in the counties of york and cumberland, district of maine--price · cents--for sale at the bookstore of june . henry whipple. * * * * * the following is printed in the "massachusetts mercury:"-- from the georgia gazette. _vice consulship of spain for the states of north carolina, south carolina, and georgia._ messrs. nicholas johnston and co. _gentlemen,_ his excellency lieut. colonel don vincent folch, governor of the province of west florida, in a letter, dated panzacola, st august, has been pleased to communicate to me the following: "i have issued a proclamation, offering four thousand five hundred dollars to any person who will deliver here, or in _apalache_, the body of william augustus bowles, or else produce sufficient proof of having killed him; which information i will thank you to make public, in order that some clever fellow, at the cheap rate of one gun shot, will place in his pocket the said sum, which shall be paid, with the greatest acknowledgment of gratitude, in good spanish dollars, without the least delay." therefore i request you to give this a conspicuous place in your paper. it is, doubtless, a very interesting subject to _spain_, _america_ and the indians, that they be rid of this noted vagabond. i remain, with respect, your obedient servant, emanuel rengill. _savannah, th august, ._ * * * * * _progress of refinement in america._ =indians' scalps.= _pittsburg, may , ._ we the subscribers, encouraged by a large subscription, do promise to pay one hundred dollars for every hostile indian's scalp, with both ears to it,[b] taken between this date and the th day of june next, by any inhabitant of alleghany county. _george wallace,_ _robert elliot,_ _wm. amberson,_ _a. tannehill,_ _j. wilkins, jun._ _john irwin._ [b] the shape of the ears, we suppose, is to determine the enmity of the indian. _salem gazette._ * * * * * a negro "pretends to be very religious." from the "boston gazette." ran away from me the subscriber at _londonderry_, in the province of _new-hampshire_, on the th of _september_, a negro man servant named _prince_, about forty years of age, about five feet five inches high, speaks good _english_, had on when he went away a green coat, blue plush breeches, diaper jacket, several pair of thread stockings with him; he looks very serious and grave, and pretends to be very religious: he is the property of major _rogers_, and has been several years in the service to the westward, and pretends to be free. whoever will take up said slave and bring him to me, or to capt. _jonathan brewer_ at _framingham_, shall have five dollars reward and all necessary charges paid by me, _james rogers._ _dated at londonderry, october , ._ * * * * * in the "boston gazette," oct. , , some servants are advertised who among other accomplishments speak high & low dutch. at this time two dollars and a half was the value of a pound in new york currency, while the new england currency was three dollars and thirty-three cents to a pound. to this day a shilling is - / cents in new york, and in new england - / cents. _run away from major_ edmond matthis _of_ albany, _in the province of_ new-york, _the following people, viz. a servant man named_ william fairfield, _of a dark complection, down look, black hair, and of a middling stature. also a negro man and woman, and a white girl with them, about_ _years of age, who talks good english, high and low dutch; the negro man is much pitted with the small pox, and speaks good english; tis suppos'd they are all together: they took with them a great many cloaths, and its probable they will often alter their dress. whoever takes up said run-aways, and safely conveys them to their abovesaid master, shall have_ ten pounds ( dollars) new-york _currency reward, and all necessary charges paid._ albany, octob. , . edmond matthis. * * * * * dr. greenwood, of boston, in offered his services to "give a youthful air to the countenance," and was ready to "electerise" any persons who stood "in need of that almost universal remedy." _isaac greenwood,_ dentist, acquaints the publick, that he has removed from n^o. to n^o. , marlborough street, opposite messrs. amorys' store, where he continues to perform the necessary branches of that art, carefully and faithfully. removing every substance tending to destroy the teeth and gums. cures the scurvy in the gums, makes the teeth white, &c. sells brushes that are suitable for the teeth, with a powder that never fails to recommend itself, at / per box. fixes natural teeth on plates of gold or silver, with gold springs, if wanted. _also_, substitutes artificial teeth, of different substances, from _s._ to _s._ each--that give a youthful air to the countenance, and render pronunciation more agreeable and distinct--in a word, both natural and artificial are of such real service, as are worthy the attention of every one. he with pleasure attends on those who may incline to employ him, provided they cannot conveniently attend on him, at his house, where he has every accommodation necessary for their reception. _at the same place may be had_, [illustration] oil, silk, and ladies' umbrellas, cheap. old umbrellas repaired, oiled, newly covered, &c. oil silk caps for bathing, german flutes, fifes, violins, and strings for ditto, reeds for hautboys, men, boxes and dice for back-gammon, chess men, billiard balls, ivory combs, a variety of canes, by wholesale and retail. cane strings, whips, electrical machines with apparatus for experiments and medical use--artificial magnets, &c. &c. &c. n.b. said greenwood offers his service to electerise those who stand in need of that almost universal remedy, at / each time, at his house. --> _advise with your physicians._ may , . * * * * * _removal._ _boston umbrella manufactury._ daniel hewes, [illustration] umbrella manufacturer; takes this early opportunity to inform his friends and the public in general, that he has removed from the north-square, to _no. , marlborough-street,_ at the sign of the umbrella----where may be had any quantity, quality, or sized umbrellas, at the shortest notice, made of better materials, cheaper, and more durable than can be imported. _also,_ turned work in ivory, hard woods, and metals, executed in the best stile of workmanship. --> _cash given for_ ivory, sea-horse, _and_ sea-cows teeth. ( w) march [ ]. * * * * * the following--supposed to be--attempt at wit appeared in the "massachusetts centinel" in . _advertisements extra._ imported in the last vessels from europe, a treatise on ogling, simpering, flirting, gigling, painting, patching, perfuming, &c. very useful to every _lady_--and much in demand. also, the art of burning dimples in ladies' cheeks and chins--of repairing female tongues that wear with using--of setting eyes _fashionably_ in their sockets--of giving the face a _beautiful pale_, deathlike aspect--and of acquiring the elegant hysterick and other fits. _to be sold_--many elegant and beautiful copies of a most scarce and valuable work, called "_the virtue of the times_." inquire any where. _lost_--through carelessness, _thirty good years of life_--of a gentleman--also, _forty-two years of a lady_--the latter, from a desire to appear _beautifully_ slim. whoever can inform the losers how they can be redeemed, shall be handsomely rewarded. _extra--but serious._ wanted--much _wanted_--several _small sums of money_--say, from / . to ten dollars--for which _obligations_, which have frequently been _offered_, will be _given_. inquire of the _printer_. * * * * * a boston paper of prints the following unique production, copied from a late london paper. it was probably designed as a "take-off" to some of the humbugs of the day. thomas touchwood, gent., proposes, on the last day of the present month, to shoot himself by subscription. his life being of no farther use to himself or his friends, he takes this method of endeavouring to turn his death to some account; and the novelty of the performance, he hopes, will merit the attention and patronage of the publick. he will perform with two pistols, the first shot to be directed through his _abdomen_, to which will be added another through his brain, the whole to conclude with staggering convulsions, grinning, &c., in a manner never before publickly attempted. the doors to be opened at eight, and the exhibition to begin precisely at nine. particular places, for that night only, reserved for the ladies. no money to be returned, nor half price taken. _vivant rex et regina._ _n.b._ beware of counterfeits and impostors.--the person who advertises to hang himself the same night, in opposition to mr. touchwood, is a taylor, who intends only to give the representation of death by dancing in a collar, an attempt infinitely inferior to mr. t.'s original and authentic performance. * * * * * probably camels were not seen in america before . increased interest attaches to the following advertisement from the fact that the exhibition was held near the very pump which hawthorne commemorates in "twice-told tales." this notice is taken from the "salem mercury," aug. , . to the curious. _to be seen at mr. benjamin daland's, near the town-pump, salem._ two camels, _male and female, imported from arabia._ these stupenduous animals are most deserving the attention of the curious, being the greatest natural curiosity ever exhibited to the publick on this continent. they are hands high--have necks near feet long--have a large bunch on their backs, & another under their breasts, in the form of a pedestal, on which they support themselves when lying down--they have joints in their hind legs, and will travel or days without drinking, and carry a burthen of wt.--they are remarkably harmless and docile, and will lie down and rise at command. * * * * * _abraham was old and well stricken in age: and the lord had blessed abraham in all things. and abraham said unto his eldest servant of his house, that ruled over all that he had, thou shalt go unto my country, and to my kindred, and take a wife unto my son isaac. and the servant took ten camels, of the camels of his master, and departed; and went to mesopotamia, unto the city nahor. and he made his camels to kneel down without the city, by a well of water, at the time of the evening, even the time that women go out to draw water. pure wisdom directed the servant, and succeeded him in obtaining the consent of the parents, brethren and kindred of rebeccah, that she should go to the land of canaan, and become the wife of isaac. and they sent away rebeccah, their sister, with her damsels and her nurse, & abraham's servant, & his men, and they rode upon the camels._--gen. xxiv. n.b.--the camels will go from this town this evening. * * * * * in a mermaid was exhibited in salem, and in a cassowary bird. the admission fee to the latter curiosity was for "grown persons" - / cents, and for children - / cents. the exact change could then be easily made, as the spanish silver ninepences ( - / cents) and fourpence halfpence ( - / cents) were more common than any other silver pieces. the american dimes and half-dimes had not at that time got much into circulation in new england. natural curiosity. [illustration] _to be seen at washington hall, for this day only,_ the cassowary, _a bird, from the east indies._ its height is feet, weighs near pounds; it will eat half a peck of apples at a meal, swallow whole eggs, also stones and apples as large as eggs, and jump to a great height.--goldsmith says, in his history of animated nature, it has the head of a warrior, the eye of a lion, the defence of a porcupine, and the swiftness of a courser. it is fond of all kinds of vegetables and fruits. it will pick a pea out of a child's hand without injury. many that have seen it, say it is the greatest curiosity of the kind ever exhibited here. children of seven years old can ride it.--admittance for grown persons pence--children half price. * * * --> _the remarkable bird, called the_ cassowary, _now exhibiting in this town, is described by goldsmith in his d volume of animated nature, page , american edition.--after describing him, the doctor observes, that "the southern parts of the most eastern indies seem to be its natural climate. his domain, if we may so call it, begins where that of the ostrich terminates. the latter has never been found beyond the ganges; while the cassowary is never seen nearer than the islands of banda, sumatra, java, the molucca islands, and the corresponding parts of the continent. yet even here this animal seems not to have multiplied in any considerable degree, as we find one of the kings of java making a present of one of these birds to the captain of a dutch ship, considering it as a very great rarity."_ _gazette_, august , . * * * * * the following notice, taken from the "salem gazette," july , , has an interest to us from what it says of the likenesses "produced from a spark of electricity." it is difficult to conjecture what this means; though additional interest is derived from the fact of these likenesses having been presented by dr. franklin's grandson. american museum. mr. peale, of philadelphia, has lately received a number of donations for his cabinet of curiosities. among them were likenesses of the king and queen of france, executed on white satin, and each produced by a single spark of electricity.--presented by wm. temple franklin, esq.----and the finger of mr. broliman (a provincial officer in the british service, in the war before the last) who was executed at philadelphia for the murder of a mr. scull. this unfortunate gentleman, soured by some disgust, became weary of life. in this temper of mind, he one morning rose earlier than usual, and walked out upon the common of the city, with his fusee in hand, determined to shoot the first person he should meet. the first person he saw was a very pretty young girl, whose beauty disarmed him. the next presented was the late dr. cadwallader--the doctor, bowing politely to mr. broliman (who, though unknown to him, had the garb and appearance of a gentleman) accosted him with "good morning, sir! what sport?" the officer answered the doctor very civilly; and was so struck with his gentlemanly manner and pleasing address, that he forebore to execute his desperate resolution: impelled, however, by the same gloominess of disposition which actuated him when he first set out, he repaired to the centre house, where some gentlemen were engaged at billiards--the tack of one of the players happening to strike his hat, the wretched man, eager for an opportunity of accomplishing his desire to leave the world, instantly shot mr. scull, one of the company, who died of the wound. this little story affords a striking proof, that amiableness and politeness of manners are not only pleasing, but useful, in our commerce with the world. salem always was famous for its collections of natural and historical curiosities, and many of its houses are now well stocked with such things. among these collections we may mention mr. geo. r. curwen's antique family portraits, china, clothing, and furniture; mr. m.a. stickney's rare coins, old paper money, and books, autographs, etc.; mr. h.f. waters's rare ancient furniture (mr. waters is now in london, engaged in historical research in reference to american families); mr. john robinson's remarkable collection of chinese coins, and scarce views of old houses of salem; mr. t.f. hunt's valuable collection of chinese books and pictures; rev. dr. bolles's fine collection of works on london; rev. b.f. mcdaniel's collection of engravings, etc.; mr. n.j. holden's and mr. f.p. richardson's collections of illustrated books, autographs, etc.; besides numerous minor collections. it is not too much to say that professor e.s. morse's collection of japanese pottery is certainly not surpassed in the world; the south kensington collection in london, which is the best in europe, does not approach it in size or importance. one of the best museums of our country was started in salem in the latter part of the last century, and that collection is now, as is well known, in charge of the peabody academy of science. its objects of natural history have in recent years been carefully classified and arranged under the direction of dr. henry wheatland, professors morse, putnam, packard, and robinson; and its cabinets, together with those of the essex institute, now contain probably more unique and valuable specimens than are to be found elsewhere in this country. * * * * * the "silhouette," or cheap portrait cut in black paper, was much in vogue in new england some seventy or eighty years ago. the process was named from m. silhouette, an honest french minister who about was noted for his advocacy of economy in everything relating to the public welfare. he received a great deal of ridicule, and hence all inexpensive things were said to be _à la silhouette_. at the rooms of the essex institute, and in many houses in salem, there are numerous silhouettes of former citizens of the place. those who remember the originals consider the likenesses often very striking. _correct profile likenesses._ moses chapman [illustration] informs the ladies and gentlemen of salem that he has taken a shop next to mr. morgan's, in north street, _salem_, where he will take profiles in the newest and most elegant style: two of one person for cents, or if desired, will paint and shade them for cents. --> frames, of different kinds and prices, for the profiles may be had at the above place. salem, january , . _salem register._ * * * * * [illustration] mr. brown respectfully informs the public that having met with so extensive encouragement, he is induced to continue to cut and frame profiles at morse's inn, opposite boylston market. price for cutting - / cents. n.b. his customers are requested to apply in the morning, noon or evening, on account of his absence at other times. oct. . _n. e. palladium_, . * * * * * in september, , we have a notice of a circus, in which the horsemanship, according to the representations, must have equalled that of barnum's people. it is not common to find much editorial comment in the papers of the time on such exhibitions, from which we judge that they were not considered first-class entertainments, and were not as much patronized by the clergy as at the present day. at the circus in broad-street, salem, _will be exhibited,_ this evening, (_if the weather permit; if not, the first fair evening_) a grand scene of horsemanship, consisting of a number of hornpipes, danced by the company on different horses, while in full speed. mr. crandel dances the hornpipe and jumps the whip. mr. franklin dances the hornpipe; rides with his toe in his mouth; he also leaps from the ground to his horse in various ways. mr. stewart dances the hornpipe; jumps a great height from his horse, and with surprising agility throws himself into different attitudes while his horse is in full speed. peter dances the hornpipe and jumps the whip; also, standing erect on his toes, rides in full speed once round the circus. mr. stewart performs the picking up of four handkerchiefs from the ground; he also stands erect on his horse, while his horse leaps a board feet from the ground. peter, the young african, riding backwards, dances a hornpipe; changes his position in a number of extraordinary leaps; jumps out of one hoop into another; and also, with one leap, jumps twice through a hoop; in once round the circus leaps quarters; and rides two horses, one forward of the other. the horse _phoenix_ lies down, sits up, and eats from the table with his master. the grand still vaulting, by the company. many other extraordinary feats performed during the exhibition. the performance to conclude with the brother miller. _the doors opened at o'clock in the evening. the performance begins at ._ _price, boxes dollar, pit cents.----tickets to be had at the circus and at the salem hotel._ those who please to favor the performers with their presence, are requested to take tickets before the exhibition commences.--no pains will be spared to render the entertainment as agreeable as possible. sept. , . * * * * * monstrous sight! to be seen at a. pollard's tavern, elm street--a white greenland sea bear, which was taken at sea, weighing wt. this animal lives either in the sea or on the land. they have been seen several leagues at sea, and sometimes floating on cakes of ice.--this animal displays a great natural curiosity.--admittance - cts. ... children half price. april . [boston] _columbian centinel_, . * * * * * just before the declaration of the last war against great britain "non-intercourse quills" were for sale. this reminds us that most young people know but little about quills of any kind, and probably not one in a hundred knows, in these days, how to make a quill pen. quills were in pretty general use for writing until about or , when steel pens took their place to some extent, although quill pens were used by many down to a comparatively recent period, and occasionally a person may now be seen using one. steel and silver pens were made by shakers as early as , and cushing & appleton had steel pens as early as , according to an advertisement in the "salem gazette." =steel pens= just received for sale by _cushing & appleton,_ oct. th, . non-intercourse quills. cushing & appleton have still on hand a few thousand _english_ quills, which for a short time will be sold at the present low rate, for specie, or bills of any of the banks in essex or boston.---- --> persons in want of quills will please to recollect, that in about _two or three weeks_ the non-intercourse with _great britain_ takes place, which in all probability will continue during the short time that nation may exist, at least. such another opportunity for purchasing can therefore never occur. jan. , . * * * * * j. greenleaf sold steel pens in boston in . steel pens, [illustration] a further supply of the celebrated steel pens is received by j. greenleaf, no. , cornhill. march [ ]. superior desk knives, manufactured in paris of damascus steel and warranted. _also_--an assortment of steel & silver pens, from the shaker village. for sale by john m. ives, dec. [ ]. _essex street._ * * * * * many young people do not know that in old times blotting-paper of the kind now in use had not been introduced. black sand was used altogether for drying the ink on freshly written letters or ordinary writing, except in books, when the writers either waited for the ink to dry, or made china paper, taken from the inside of tea-chests, a blotter. black sand was in general use until within thirty years or thereabouts. we have seen the sand adhering to writing which had been done more than a century. no writing-desk was complete without a sand-box. black sand, which is so useful to all who have any thing to do with penmanship--for sale, at no. , opposite the treasurer's-office, in _marlborough-street_. --> books and stationary, as usual. _boston, may , ._ _columbian centinel._ * * * * * _country traders_, who are in search of penny-worths, are invited to the store of john & tho's amory & co. no. , _marlborough-street_. _columbian centinel_, . * * * * * --> _if the small pox should be allowed to spread in this town_ [boston], _the editor assures his country customers that every precaution in his power shall be taken, that no part of his papers shall convey the infection into the country.--but it is his belief that it will not be permitted to spread--and his wishes accord with his belief, having never had the infection. should he be necessitated to innoculate, he shall withdraw himself from his office and leave the business in the care of a person who will use every caution necessary for the purpose._ _columbian centinel_, aug. , . * * * * * whereas a person who called himself by the name of _charles brown_, did on the th of _june_ last, hire a chaise of _israel davis_, of _danvers_, to go to _boston;_ since which the said chaise has not been returned: this is to give notice to any one who will discover the said _brown_ or chaise, and leave word with the printers hereof, a reward of ten dollars for each, will be given by _israel davis._ the said _brown_ is of a middling stature, thin, looked sickly and very poor, as if he had had the yellow fever: he is about years of age; wears short black hair, tied with a black ribbon; has a blue german serge surtout coat, faced with blue calamancoe, yellow buttons; a whitish coat and breeches; blue sattin jacket, with a narrow scollop'd silver lace: he has also a yellowish thicksett coat, blue plush waistcoat, yellow leather breeches, a laced hat, and ruffled shirts; appears and pretends to be a gentleman, and has a person with him as a waiter, who calls himself capt _stutson_. the chaise has standing posts with a canvass top, the lining is cloth coloured broad-cloth; the back is warped by the sun and cracked; the leather at the bottom of the floor old; large brass nails on the foot board; the door of the box is pricked with awl-holes; one of the staples thro' which the reins go on the saddle is loose; the off-wheel has two gripes thereon. _danvers, july , ._ _boston gazette._ * * * * * this day published, and to be sold at the new printing office in cornhill (price four coppers), the two mothers; or the history of _antigone_ and _phronissa_; shewing how _antigone_ laughed at her good old grandmother, and married her daughters, before sixteen, to a laced coat and a fashionable wig,----and how the wiser _phronissa_ instructed her daughters in reading, dressing, singing, dancing, visiting, &c. in order to make them happy and useful in the rising age. _boston gazette_, oct. , . * * * * * _new establishment._ the subscriber, desirous of doing all in his power whereby he can serve the public, and at the same time benefit himself, is induced to give this public notice, that he has removed to the new assembly house, chestnut street, where he proposes opening a restorator, for the accommodation of all who may honor him with their calls. ample arrangements have been made and he flatters himself that superior cooking and good attendance will secure the patronage of a liberal public. --> soup will be served up at a.m. on mondays, tuesdays, thursdays and fridays during the winter. all kinds of cakes, wafers, french rolls, &c. furnished at the shortest notice. john remond. * * * * * _turtle soup._ two green turtles will be served up, as above, _this day_, at and o'clock. families supplied by immediate application. salem, oct. [ ]. _salem gazette._ * * * * * _speaking figure._ the proprietor respectfully informs the publick that his exhibition will remain in _boston_ until sold or removed to _new-york_. more fully to gratify the curiosity of the publick, the speaking figure is moved to a part of the room which intirely removes the suspicion of any one being concealed in the chimney.--those who wish to see this most pleasing phenomenon of art will please to call soon, as this will positively be the last day. those who have viewed the exhibition in its former situation will be charged half price for re-admission--those who have not, are admitted at _s_ . each, from o'clock in the afternoon until in the evening, by the publick's most obedient, samuel prince. _boston, oct. , ._ _columbian centinel._ * * * * * we frequently find in old boston papers advertisements of rare beasts to be exhibited,--in december, , a "beautiful moose," and in august, , a "beautiful lion." [illustration] _to the curious._ a beautiful african lion, to be seen every day in the week (sundays excepted) in _brattle-street_, next to major king's, near the _market_, where a very convenient situation is provided for those ladies and gentlemen who may please to favor the proprietor with their presence. this noble animal is between three and four feet high, measures eight feet from nostrils to tail, and a beautiful dun colour; years old, and weighs near wt.--his legs and tail are as thick as those of a common size ox. he was caught in the woods of goree, in africa, when a whelp; and brought from thence to new-york. great attention has been paid in providing a strong substantial cage, and to have the lion under very good command. the person who has the care of him can comb his mane, make him lie down and get up at any time; and it is said by those who have seen lions in the tower of london, and many parts, that he is really worth the contemplation of the curious. --> _admittance cents.--children half price._ aug. [ ]. _boston gazette._ [illustration] _a beautiful moose._ the curious in natural history are invited to major king's tavern, where is to be seen a fine young moose of sixteen hands in height, and well proportioned. the properties of this fleet and tractable animal are such as will give pleasure and satisfaction to every beholder. _price of admittance, nine pence._ _dec. , ._ _massachusetts mercury._ * * * * * we have before noticed the tastes of the people formerly for wax-work. in there was another curious collection in salem. wax-work. street and grose respectfully acquaint the ladies and gentlemen of salem that there is now exhibiting at washington hall a new and elegant collection of well executed wax figures, (large as life,) consisting of the following characters, viz. a striking representation of the late unfortunate duel between general hamilton, and colonel burr. in this interesting scene the general is represented as supported by his second, after receiving the fatal wound, while the second of colonel burr urges him to retire from the field. an excellent likeness of the marquis de la fayette. the austere father frowning upon his daughter, finding her with her gallant. the handsome coquette. prospero and calaban, a scene from the tempest. othello and desdemona: this scene is taken from shakespeare's celebrated play of the moor of venice. othello is represented as meditating on the murder of his amiable and beautiful wife. the curtains that surround the bed of desdemona are superb, and formerly encircled that of the queen of france. the scene of othello is an object of admiration. the salem beauty. the female economist, a lady giving instructions to her daughter. tiana, prince of atooi. calicum, a chief of nookta sound. wynee, a native of owyhee. liberty and justice supporting a portrait of gen. washington. a bust of general bonaparte, in plaster of paris, said to be a correct likeness. a glass ship. a likeness of a child now living in newhaven, which at its birth weighed only two pounds and fourteen ounces. the grecian daughter, nourishing her father in prison. a striking likeness of jason fairbanks, who was executed at dedham, and of the beautiful eliza fales: he is dressed in the same clothes that he wore at the time of his trial. also--sundry other interesting figures. music on the organ. the exhibition will be open from nine o'clock in the morning until nine in the evening, (saturday evening and sunday excepted,) and will be removed from this town shortly. _admittance cents--children half price._ --> no person will be allowed to touch any of the figures above mentioned. salem, june . * * * * * our grandfathers and grandmothers sometimes had dealings with large sums of money. to the curious [illustration] to be seen at _jeremiah bulfinch's_, near the mill-bridge, a live hog, that is thought to be the biggest ever raised in this country, weighing upwards of weight. the price for viewing of said quadruped is pence. _march [ ]._ _herald of freedom._ * * * * * to widow _keziah bartlett_. your tax for , committed to j. newell for collection, is _d.c._ state tax county and town ---- $ joseph newell. feb. , . _collector of needham._ _boston patriot._ to widow _keziah bartlett_. your tax for , committed to jesse daniell for collection, is _d.c._ state tax-- county and town-- ---- $ . jesse daniell, feb. , . _collector of needham._ _boston patriot._ * * * * * _notice._ the annual meeting of the _boston cent society_ will be holden at the house of mrs. margaret phillips, walnut street, on tuesday, april th, at o'clock a.m. the subscribers are requested to attend. per order april . _columbian centinel_, . * * * * * _one mill reward._ ran away from the subscriber, an indented apprentice, of the name of james bails. all persons are hereby forbidden to trust or harbor him on my account. (_signed_) thomas caines. _south-boston, august , ._ _columbian centinel._ * * * * * the "jews-harp club" indicates the state of music in salem in . _jews-harp club._ the first meeting of this society will be holden at the essex coffee house, _this evening_ at o'clock, for the purpose of electing officers and organizing the society. _april , ._ * * * * * in the essex coffee house in salem, formerly the residence of the hon. william gray (lieutenant-governor of massachusetts), was opened by prince stetson, as the following advertisements show. _essex coffee-house._ prince stetson informs the public that he has closed the doors of the salem hotel and taken that spacious and elegant brick house, (the late mansion of the hon. _wm. gray_,) in essex-street, a few rods west of the sun tavern, now known by the name of the essex coffee-house; where he will be happy to accommodate travellers, parties, fire clubs, and all other guests who may honor him with their company. he rests his claims for patronage on a larder well supplied with the choicest viands which the markets afford--a cellar stocked with the best wines and other liquors which can be procured--and the assiduous attention of civil and capable servants, together with his own personal exertions to give every satisfaction to his guests. [ w] _salem, july , ._ * * * * * the closed door--open. that mr. _stetson_, on leaving the salem hotel, shut the door after him, is probable enough: it is what is expected of every well-bred man on leaving any house; but _gray & carter_ beg leave to inform the public that the _door_ is now _opened_ again, and though the hotel is not so spacious as the _prince_-ly mansion of their neighbour, yet being an old and well accustomed stand, they flatter themselves that those gentlemen who have long frequented it, will not discontinue their custom, as no pains will be spared to accommodate parties--fire clubs--steady boarders, and all who may honor the house with their company. --> particular attention will be paid to gentlemen's horses and carriages. july [ ]. * * * * * we seldom hear nowadays of so scandalous an act as is here set forth; although there was a time in england when it was proved that murders were committed solely for the purpose of selling the bodies of the victims to surgeons for dissection. dollars reward. _most daring and sacrilegious robbery._ stolen, from the grave yard in chebacco parish in ipswich, the bodies of eight persons, seven of whom were interred since the th of october last; the other, a coloured man, about six years ago. as without doubt they have all, ere this time, passed under the dissecting knife of the anatomist, either of the rude novice in the art or of the skilful professor, little hope is entertained of recovering any relict of them for the consolation of the deeply afflicted friends. but whoever will give any information of this atrocious villainy, so as to detect and bring to justice, either the traders in this abominable traffic, or their inhuman employers, shall receive the above reward; and the thanks of an afflicted and distressed people. william andrews jun. thomas choate nathan burnham _ipswich, chebacco parish,_ } _committee._ _april th, ._ } * * * * * business in "knocker's hole" must have been brisker in than it has been of late years. old salem people will remember "roast meat hill." _distress in the baking business!_ cash spoiling for want of good labor, as my brethren have distressed me so by giving all the workmen in this town steady employ, so that i have not bread to oblige my good customers in season. to relieve myself, i offer to six journeymen bakers of other towns, who can recommend themselves by good and quick dispatch in that line of business, $ per month for this season.----_wanted_, two laborers about the yard, two months or more; in all more than my present number may have good employ by calling on samuel bathrick, _baker, mill-street, salem, massachusetts, easily found by inquiry._ july [ ]. * * * * * sport in . _to sportsmen._ the subscriber, intending to give a grand treat to _sportsmen_ and _sharp shooters_, purposes to set up a number of fine turkeys to be fired at on _friday, the th day of december next_, and invites all who are disposed for this purpose to attend. good accommodations will be found at his house. john t. dodge, jr. wenham, nov. , . * * * * * _sharp shooting._ thomas d. pousland informs his friends and the friends of _sport_ that he will, on friday, the th day of december next, set up for shooting a number of fine fat turkeys, and invites all the _gunners_ and others, who would wish to recreate themselves, to call on _the day after thanksgiving at the old baker's tavern, upper parish, beverly_, where every accommodation can be afforded. nov. . _salem gazette._ * * * * * what was expected of a governess in . _wanted._ wanted, an intelligent and well informed lady, above or about forty years of age, as a governess, capable of instructing four young children of her own sex in all the early branches, to reside in the family of their father, a gentleman of high respectability in every sense of the word, and of considerable fortune and estate, upon which he dwells, in the vicinity of winchester, frederick county, virginia. it will be expected that she understands and will undertake at same time the management and direction of the household and family concerns. for further information, application may be made to the subscriber, now residing for a short time at the house of mr. thomas lewis, cambridge-street, boston, near mr. lowell's meeting-house. august . ep t john holker. _columbian centinel._ * * * * * bull-fight in new england! many persons have supposed that bull-fights were never to be seen except in spain; but it appears that in june, , according to an advertisement in the "essex register," there was to be a bull-fight on the salem turnpike, near the "half-way house" (to boston). as there were no reporters in those days, we are unable to give an account of the exhibition. _sportsmen, attend!_ the gentlemen sportsmen of this town and its vicinity are informed that a grand combat will take place between the urus, zebu, and spanish bull, on the th of july, if fair weather, if not, the next fair day, at the half-way house on the _salem turnpike_. there will also be exposed at the circus, other animals, which, for courage, strength and sagacity are inferior to none. no danger need be apprehended during the performance, as the circus is very convenient. doors opened at , performance to begin at . tickets cents. after the performance there will be a grand fox chase on the marshes near the circus, to start precisely at o'clock. * * * * * general fencing exhibition. messrs. tromelle & girard, fencing-masters of the military school of col. de la croix, respectfully inform the gentlemen of salem and its vicinity that they propose a fencing exhibition, at which several amateurs will be present, and during which they will play the small-sword, cut-and-thrust, broad-sword, and cudgel or cane fighting; to close with a duel between messrs. t. & g., who will at first fight with sabres, and afterwards with small-swords, until one of the parties falls weltering in blood. the exhibition will be on friday, the th inst., at o'clock p.m., at the military school, washington hall, court street. _terms of admission, one dollar._ tickets to be had at mr. crombie's salem hotel, and at mr. tucker's sun-tavern. june . _essex register._ * * * * * something like the stylographic pen was advertised in in salem. _the self-supplying_ pocket writing instrument, or scheffer's patent penograph. [illustration] the merit of this instrument is that it contains ink, and supplies itself as required, by which means the writer is enabled to use it for or hours with the same ease as with a pencil, without the aid of an inkstand; and is manufactured in gold or silver, either with or without a pencil case, and so constructed that either a metallic or quill nib may be applied. for sale by june [ ]. j.r. buffum. * * * * * a "caravan" of . [illustration] a caravan of living animals is now exhibiting at the essex coffee house, in this town. among the animals are the following:-- the african lion. the beautiful spotted lama, from the coast of peru. the mammoth ox, years old, hands high, feet in length, and raised in chenango county, state of new york. he is well worthy the attention of the public. the dwarf cow, years old, feet inches in height, and is handsomely proportioned. this most extraordinary and wonderful production of nature has been visited by a large number of persons, in different cities, and is pronounced a complete model in miniature of her kind; she is so short that she can pass under the belly of the large ox. the heifer, years old, having legs, and is very active. two large bears, very tractable and docile. dandy jack. saucy jack. the great ribbed nose baboon. the beautiful deer, years old. the ichneumon, an animal famous for destroying reptiles' eggs, and is worshipped by the egyptians. also, a variety of other animals, birds, &c. --> admittance - cents; children under years of age, half price. open from a.m. till p.m., saturday evenings excepted. the room is conveniently fitted, so that ladies and gentlemen can view the animals with perfect safety. this exhibition is attended with good music on different instruments. also, music on the leaf. the sounds produced by the leaf are admired by the lovers of music. jan. . _salem gazette._ * * * * * it may be interesting to some of our readers to see what piano music was popular in - . elias hook, the celebrated organ-builder, of the firm of e. & g.g. hook & hastings, was a native of salem and kept a music-store there, moving to boston about . =new= piano forte music. just published, and for sale by elias hook, the maltese boat song; polly hopkins and tommy tompkins; the soldier's last sigh; 'tis sweet to take the bonnie lake; when i left thy shores, o naxos; the merry flageolet; when young men come a sighing; comin' thro' the rye; love was once a little boy; i've been roaming; my heart and lute; draw the sword, scotland; adventures of paul pry; i have fruit and i have flowers; the washing day; the light guitar, and answer; long summers have smiled--&c. &c. [ ]. * * * * * new piano music. yon rose tree. the rock of our salvation. thou art my only love. the days of good queen bess. gipsey rondo. oh, 'tis love. as the evening appearing. the cup of love. the bells of st. andrew's tower. by murmuring brook. the banner of battle. a fragrant rose there grew. my country no more. to live and love. my own native isle. mild is thine eye of blue, sweet maid. mary of the ferry. look you now. love thee, yes, too fondly, truly. lovely mary. love in the barn. bolivar's peruvian battle song. there is a love. the glasses sparkle on the board. st. patrick was a gentleman. the winter it is past. with instructions--for the piano &c. just received by march [ ]. j.m. ives. * * * * * in february, , mr. nazro, of the roundhill school (northampton?), made the following singular challenge to edwin forrest, the tragedian. we do not know whether or not it was accepted. the boston evening bulletin of wednesday last contains the following:-- "a card. if mr. edwin forrest, the tragedian, thinks that more effect can be produced by reading tragedy than can be by reading from scripture, mr. nazro, instructor of elocution, from roundhill school, would deny it fully, and offers to meet him, mr. forrest, in any town in the united states, and read from scripture, and mr. forrest shall read from tragedy. _boston_, th feb., ." * * * * * the "draisena" was the forerunner of the velocipede and bicycle. [illustration] the draisena. ambrose salisbury, wheelwright and chaise-maker, first introduced into this town [boston] machines similar to the one described below, and of which the plate will convey some idea; he has manufactured two, which may be examined at his shop in water-street, where the manner of using them will be explained. it is called draisena, from the name of the inventor. may . _n. e. palladium_, . * * * * * advertisements of john remond, for many years well known in salem as a caterer. he used to advertise very freely. he was the father of charles lenox remond, the famous colored lecturer. =salem=, saturday, november , . turtle soup the subscriber will issue from his house in chesnut-street, on tuesday & wednesday next, at from to o'clock, soup made from a superior fat turtle, weighing over wt. his old customers and the public will be supplied as usual at cts per quart. _j. remond._ * * * * * notice. the subscriber informs his customers that notwithstanding he has publicly discontinued the sale of oysters, in consequence of their being in an unhealthy state during the months of july and august, still he is ready to supply them as usual, if called upon; he would observe, however, that he cannot hold himself responsible for the injurious effects they may produce on the system when eaten at this season of the year. john remond. july [ ]. * * * * * hamilton hall, chestnut street. this establishment having been purchased by a new company, and undergone repairs, the interior of the same is so far completed that the subscriber is ready for the reception of genteel parties. the repairs and improvements already made; the furnace which heats the entire dancing portion of the building,--entries, supper hall, etc.; the improved chandelier, new sofas, ladies' drawing-room new carpeted and furnished in a comfortable manner; a reduction of former price of hall; strict adherence to a uniform price of help, and every care taken to select and furnish the most careful and obliging attendants, with the enchanting music of the salem quadrille band, cannot fail to secure the patronage of a generous public. did i say above, "enchanting music"? yes. without the fear of contradiction, during thirty years and upwards that it has been my privilege to conduct the affairs of hamilton hall, i have never heard from five instruments richer music sent forth than i did on the evening of the th november, ultimo.--there is one fact that should be known, and which is acknowledged by all who have performed there, that five pieces of music are better in hamilton hall than seven in any other hall in the city. as respects the subscriber, who is still to conduct the affairs of the establishment, suffice it to say that those who have had the pleasure, for a long series of years, to participate in such matters, are the best judges of the style, comfort, etc. remond. n.b. with the extensive cooking apparatus and other advantages of the premises, families who do not wish to disarrange their houses, or single gentlemen who are not at house-keeping, wishing to entertain their friends, can be accommodated at reasonable prices, and everything conducted in true family style. j.r. salem, dec. [ ]. [illustration] transcriber's note: text version *** represents inverted asterism --> represents right index <-- represents left index [illustration: book cover] bye-a baby bunting and other rhymes clark's o. n. t. spool cotton, white, fast black, and all the new colors, --is-- "ahead of all of them" for hand and machine sewing. garments sewed with our fast black will never show white on the seams after being worn or washed. milward's helix needles, (established ), each needle perfect. [illustration] bye a baby bunting, daddy's gone a hunting. for to buy a rabbit skin to wrap up baby bunting in. but mamma stays at home, you see to play with baby and o. n. t. [illustration] hickery, dickery, and , hollowbone, crackabone, and ; spinnery, spannery, musketry, twiddle 'um, twaddle 'um, o. n. t. [illustration] multiplication is vexation, division is as bad, the rule of three doth puzzle me, and fractions make me mad: but one of the pleasant things to me, is to handle a needle with o. n. t. [illustration] pussy-cat, pussy-cat, where have you been? i've been to london to look at the queen. pussy-cat, pussy-cat, what did you see? i saw the queen sewing with o. n. t. [illustration] [illustration] brow brinky, eye winky, chin choppy, nose noppy, cheek cherry, mouth merry, baby's face, as bright can be, as she plays with o. n. t. [illustration] betty pringle had a little pig, not very little and not very big; when alive he lived in clover, but now he's dead, he's dead all over. so billy pringle he lay down and cried, and betty pringle she lay down and died; so there was an end of one, two and three, billy pringle he, betty pringle she, and piggie wiggee, all of which rhymes with our o. n. t. [illustration] hip-i-ty hop to the barber shop, this horse of mine, he will not stop. i'll buy a spool of cotton, one for you, and one for me, which shall it be? why, o. n. t. [illustration] great a, little a. bouncing b! the cat's in the cupboard, and she can't see that her kittens are playing with o. n. t. use clark's o. n. t. spool cotton. [illustration: george a. clark, sole agent.] [illustration: book cover (back)] none business correspondence volume i how to write the business letter: _ chapters on preparing to write the letter and finding the proper viewpoint; how to open the letter, present the proposition convincingly, make an effective close; how to acquire a forceful style and inject originality; how to adapt selling appeal to different prospects and get orders by letter-- proved principles and practical schemes illustrated by extracts from actual letters_ contents business correspondence volume i part i _preparing to write the letter_ chapter : what you can do with a postage stamp : the advantages of doing business by letter : gathering material and picking out talking points : when you sit down to write part ii _how to write the letter_ : how to begin a business letter : how to present your proposition : how to bring the letter to a close part iii _style--making the letter readable_ : "style" in letter writing--and how to acquire it : making the letter hang together : how to make letters original : making the form letter personal part iv _the dress of a business letter_ : making letterheads and envelopes distinctive : the typographical make-up of business letters : getting a uniform policy and quality in letters : making letters uniform in appearance part v _writing the sales letter_ : how to write the letter that will "land" the order : the letter that will bring an inquiry : how to close sales by letter : what to enclose with sales letters : bringing in new business by post card : making it easy for the prospect to answer part vi _the appeal to different classes_ : how to write letters that appeal to women : how to write letters that appeal to men : how to write letters that appeal to farmers what you can _do_ with a postage stamp part i--preparing to write the letter--chapter _last year [ ] fifteen billion letters were handled by the post office--one hundred and fifty for every person. just as a thousand years ago practically all trade was cash, and now only seven per cent involves currency, so nine-tenths of the business is done today by letter while even a few decades ago it was by personal word. you can get your prospect, turn him into a customer, sell him goods, settle complaints, investigate credit standing, collect your money_--all by letter. _and often better than by word of mouth. for, when talking, you speak to only one or two; by letter you can talk to a hundred thousand in a sincere, personal way. so the letter is the_ most important tool _in modern business--good letter writing is the business man's_ first requirement. * * * * * there is a firm in chicago, with a most interesting bit of inside history. it is not a large firm. ten years ago it consisted of one man. today there are some three hundred employees, but it is still a one-man business. it has never employed a salesman on the road; the head of the firm has never been out to call on any of his customers. but here is a singular thing: you may drop in to see a business man in syracuse or san francisco, in jacksonville or walla walla, and should you casually mention this man's name, the chances are the other will reply: "oh, yes. i know him very well. that is, i've had several letters from him and i feel as though i know him." sitting alone in his little office, this man was one of the first to foresee, ten years ago, the real possibilities of the letter. he saw that if he could write a man a thousand miles away the right kind of a letter he could do business with him as well as he could with the man in the next block. so he began _talking_ by mail to men whom he thought might buy his goods--talking to them in sane, human, you-and-me english. through those letters he sold goods. nor did he stop there. in the same human way he collected the money for them. he adjusted any complaints that arose. he did everything that any business man could do with customers. in five years he was talking not to a thousand men but to a million. and today, though not fifty men in the million have ever met him, this man's personality has swept like a tidal wave across the country and left its impression in office, store and factory--through letters--letters _alone_. this instance is not cited because it marks the employment of a new medium, but because it shows how the letter has become a universal implement of trade; how a commonplace tool has been developed into a living business-builder. the letter is today the greatest potential creator and transactor of business in the world. but wide as its use is, it still lies idle, an undeveloped possibility, in many a business house where it might be playing a powerful part. the letter is a universal implement of business--that is what gives it such great possibilities. it is the servant of every business, regardless of its size or of its character. it matters not what department may command its use--wherever there is a business in which men must communicate with each other, the letter is found to be the first and most efficient medium. analyze for a moment the departments of your own business. see how many points there are at which you could use _right_ letters to good advantage. see if you have not been overlooking some opportunities that the letter, at a small cost, will help develop. do you sell goods? the letter is the greatest salesman known to modern business. it will carry the story you have to tell wherever the mail goes. it will create business and bring back orders a thousand miles to the very hand it left. if you are a retailer, the letter will enable you to talk your goods, your store, your service, to every family in your town, or it will go further and build a counter across the continent for you. if you are a manufacturer or wholesaler selling to the trade, the letter will find prospects and win customers for you in remote towns that salesmen cannot profitably reach. but the letter is not only a direct salesman, it is a supporter of every personal sales force. judiciously centered upon a given territory, letters pave the way for the salesman's coming; they serve as his introduction. after his call, they keep reminding the prospect or customer of the house and its goods. or, trained by the sales manager upon his men, letters keep them in touch with the house and key up their loyalty. with regular and special letters, the sales manager is able to extend his own enthusiasm to the farthest limits of his territory. so in every phase of selling, the letter makes it possible for you to keep your finger constantly upon the pulse of trade. if you are a wholesaler or manufacturer, letters enable you to keep your dealers in line. if you are a retailer, they offer you a medium through which to keep your customers in the proper mental attitude toward your store, the subtle factor upon which retail credit so largely depends. if you sell on instalments, letters automatically follow up the accounts and maintain the inward flow of payments at a fraction of what any other system of collecting entails. do you have occasion to investigate the credit of your customers? the letter will quietly and quickly secure the information. knowing the possible sources of the data you desire you can send forth half a dozen letters and a few days later have upon your desk a comprehensive report upon the worth and reliability of almost any concern or individual asking credit favors. and the letter will get this information where a representative would often fail because it comes full-fledged in the frankness and dignity of your house. does your business involve in any way the collecting of money? letters today bring in ten dollars for every one that collectors receive on their monotonous round of homes and cashiers' cages. without the collection letter the whole credit system would be toppling about our ears. * * * * * the letter sells goods direct to consumers to dealers to agents indirect builds up lists secures names eliminates dead wood classifies live prospects opens up new territory through consumers creates demand directs trade through dealers shows possible profit introduces new lines aid to salesmen educates trade co-operation introduces backs up keeps lined up aid to dealers drums up trade holds customers develops new business handles men instruction about goods about territory about prospects how to systemize work inspiration ginger tales inspires confidence secures co-operation promotes loyalty collects money mercantile acts - retail acts - installment acts - petty acts persuasion emphasize house policy emphasize advanttagae of goods establishment of forced collections cost of forced collections cash-up proposition extension of accommodation pressure through threats of suit of shutting off credit of writing to references through legal avenues through legal agencies house collection bureaus regular collection bureaus through attorneys handles long range customers supplies personal contact shows interest in customer wins confidence develops re-order schemes builds up steady trade handles complaints adjusts investigates makes capital out of complaints wins back customers develops prestige gives personality to business builds up good will paves way for new customers _the practical uses of the business letter are almost infinite: selling goods, with distant customers, developing the prestige of the house--there is handling men, adjusting complaints, collecting money, keeping in touch scarcely an activity of modern business that cannot be carried on by letter_ * * * * * do you find it necessary to adjust the complaint of a client or a customer? a diplomatic letter at the first intimation of dissatisfaction will save many an order from cancellation. it will soothe ruffled feelings, wipe out imagined grievances and even lay the basis for firmer relations in the future. so you may run the gamut of your own business or any other. at every point that marks a transaction between concerns or individuals, you will find some way in which the letter rightly used, can play a profitable part. there is a romance about the postage stamp as fascinating as any story--not the romance contained in sweet scented notes, but the romance of big things accomplished; organizations developed, businesses built, great commercial houses founded. in a couple of men secured the agency for a firm manufacturing extracts and toilet preparations. they organized an agency force through letters and within a year the manufacturers were swamped with business, unable to fill the orders. then the men added one or two other lines, still operating from one small office. soon a storage room was added; then a packing and shipping room was necessary and additional warehouse facilities were needed. space was rented in the next building; a couple of rooms were secured across the street, and one department was located over the river--wherever rooms could be found. next the management decided to issue a regular mail-order catalogue and move to larger quarters where the business could be centered under one roof. a floor in a new building was rented--a whole floor. the employees thought it was extravagance; the managers were dubious, for when the business was gathered in from seven different parts of the city, there was still much vacant floor space. one year later it was again necessary to rent outside space. the management then decided to erect a permanent home and today the business occupies two large buildings and the firm is known all over the country as one of the big factors of mail-order merchandising. it has all been done by postage stamps. when the financial world suddenly tightened up in a wholesale dry goods house found itself hard pressed for ready money. the credit manager wrote to the customers and begged them to pay up at once. but the retailers were scared and doggedly held onto their cash. even the merchants who were well rated and whose bills were due, played for time. the house could not borrow the money it needed and almost in despair the president sat down and wrote a letter to his customers; it was no routine collection letter, but a heart-to-heart talk, telling them that if they did not come to his rescue the business that he had spent thirty years in building would be wiped out and he would be left penniless because he could not collect _his_ money. he had the bookkeepers go through every important account and they found that there was hardly a customer who had not, for one reason or another, at some time asked for an extension of credit. and to each customer the president dictated a personal paragraph, reminding him of the time accommodation had been asked and granted. then the appeal was made straight from the heart: "now, when i need help, not merely to tide me over a few weeks but to save me from ruin, will you not strain a point, put forth some special effort to help me out, just as i helped you at such and such a time?" "if we can collect $ , ," he had assured his associates, "i know we can borrow $ , , and that will probably pull us through." the third day after his letters went out several checks came in; the fourth day the cashier banked over $ , ; within ten days $ , had come in, several merchants paying up accounts that were not yet due; a few even offered to "help out the firm." the business was saved--by postage stamps. formality to the winds; stereotyped phrases were forgotten; traditional appeals were discarded and a plain talk, man-to-man, just as if the two were closeted together in an office brought hundreds of customers rushing to the assistance of the house with which they had been dealing. sixty-eight thousand dollars collected within two weeks when money was almost invisible--and by letter. truly there is romance in the postage stamp. twenty-five years ago a station agent wrote to other agents along the line about a watch that he could sell them at a low price. when an order came in he bought a watch, sent it to the customer and used his profit to buy stamps for more letters. after a while he put in each letter a folder advertising charms, fobs and chains; then rings, cuff buttons and a general line of jewelry was added. it soon became necessary to give up his position on the railroad and devote all his time to the business and one line after another was added to the stock he carried. today the house that started in this way has customers in the farthermost parts of civilization; it sells every conceivable product from toothpicks to automobiles and knockdown houses. two thousand people do nothing but handle mail; over , orders are received and filled every day; , men and women are on the payroll. it has all been done by mail. postage stamps bring to the house every year business in excess of $ , , . one day the head correspondent in an old established wholesale house in the east had occasion to go through some files of ten and twelve years before. he was at once struck with the number of names with which he was not familiar--former customers who were no longer buying from the house. he put a couple of girls at work making a list of these old customers and checking them up in the mercantile directories to see how many were still in business. then he sat down and wrote to them, asking as a personal favor that they write and tell him why they no longer bought of the house; whether its goods or service had not been satisfactory, whether some complaint had not been adjusted. there must be a reason, would they not tell him personally just what it was? eighty per cent of the men addressed replied to this personal appeal; many had complaints that were straightened out; others had drifted to other houses for no special reason. the majority were worked back into the "customer" files. three years later the accounting department checked up the orders received from these re-found customers. the gross was over a million dollars. the business all sprung from one letter. yes, there is romance in the postage stamp; there is a latent power in it that few men realize--a power that will remove commercial mountains and erect industrial pyramids. the advantages of doing _business_ by letter part i--preparing to write the letter--chapter _letters have their limitations and their advantages. the correspondent who is anxious to secure the best results should recognize the inherent weakness of a letter due to its lack of personality in order to reinforce these places. equally essential is an understanding of the letter's great_ natural advantages _so that the writer can turn them to account--make the most of them. it possesses qualities the personal representative lacks and this chapter tells how to take advantage of them_ * * * * * while it is necessary to know how to write a strong letter, it is likewise essential to understand both the limitations of letters and their advantages. it is necessary, on the one hand, to take into account the handicaps that a letter has in competition with a personal solicitor. offsetting this are many distinct advantages the letter has over the salesman. to write a really effective letter, a correspondent must thoroughly understand its carrying capacity. a salesman often wins an audience and secures an order by the force of a dominating personality. the letter can minimize this handicap by an attractive dress and force attention through the impression of quality. the letter lacks the animation of a person but there can be an individuality about its appearance that will assure a respectful hearing for its message. the personal representative can time his call, knowing that under certain circumstances he may find his man in a favorable frame of mind, or even at the door he may decide it is the part of diplomacy to withdraw and wait a more propitious hour. the letter cannot back out of the prospect's office; it cannot shape its canvass to meet the needs of the occasion or make capital out of the mood or the comments of the prospect. the correspondent cannot afford to ignore these handicaps under which his letter enters the prospect's office. rather, he should keep these things constantly in mind in order to overcome the obstacles just as far as possible, reinforcing the letter so it will be prepared for any situation it may encounter at its destination. explanations must be so clear that questions are unnecessary; objections must be anticipated and answered in advance; the fact that the recipient is busy must be taken into account and the message made just as brief as possible; the reader must be treated with respect and diplomatically brought around to see the relationship between _his_ needs and _your_ product. but while the letter has these disadvantages, it possesses qualities that the salesman lacks. the letter, once it lies open before the man to whom you wish to talk, is your counterpart, speaking in your words just as you would talk to him if you were in his office or in his home. that is, the _right_ letter. it reflects your personality and not that of some third person who may be working for a competitor next year. the letter, if clearly written, will not misrepresent your proposition; its desire for a commission or for increased sales will not lead it to make exaggerated statements or unauthorized promises. the letter will reach the prospect just as it left your desk, with the same amount of enthusiasm and freshness. it will not be tired and sleepy because it had to catch a midnight train; it will not be out of sorts because of the poor coffee and the cold potatoes served at the grand hotel for breakfast; it will not be peeved because it lost a big sale across the street; it will not be in a hurry to make the : local; it will not be discouraged because a competitor is making inroads into the territory. you have the satisfaction of knowing that the letter is immune from these ills and weaknesses to which flesh is heir and will deliver your message faithfully, promptly, loyally. it will not have to resort to clever devices to get past the glass door, nor will it be told in frigid tones by the guard on watch to call some other day. the courtesy of the mail will take your letter to the proper authority. if it goes out in a dignified dress and presents its proposition concisely it is assured of a considerate hearing. it will deliver its message just as readily to some garcia in the mountains of cuba as to the man in the next block. the salesman who makes a dozen calls a day is doing good work; letters can present your proposition to a hundred thousand prospects on the one forenoon. they can cover the same territory a week later and call again and again just as often as you desire. you cannot time the letter's call to the hour but you can make sure it reaches the prospect on the day of the week and the time of the month when he is most likely to give it consideration. you know exactly the kind of canvass every letter is making; you know that every call on the list is made. the salesman must look well to his laurels if he hopes to compete successfully with the letter as a selling medium. put the points of advantage in parallel columns and the letter has the best of it; consider, in addition, the item of expense and it is no wonder letters are becoming a greater factor in business. the country over, there are comparatively few houses that appreciate the full possibilities of doing business by mail. not many appreciate that certain basic principles underlie letter writing, applicable alike to the beginner who is just struggling to get a foothold and to the great mail-order house with its tons of mail daily. they are not mere theories; they are fundamental principles that have been put to the test, proved out in thousands of letters and on an infinite number of propositions. the correspondent who is ambitious to do by mail what others do by person, must understand these principles and how to apply them. he must know the order and position of the essential elements; he must take account of the letter's impersonal character and make the most of its natural advantages. writing letters that pull is not intuition; it is an art that anyone can acquire. but this is the point: _it must be acquired_. it will not come to one without effort on his part. fundamental principles must be understood; ways of presenting a proposition must be studied, various angles must be tried out; the effectiveness of appeals must be tested; new schemes for getting attention and arousing interest must be devised; clear, concise description and explanation must come from continual practice; methods for getting the prospect to order now must be developed. it is not a game of chance; there is nothing mysterious about it--nothing impossible, it is solely a matter of study, hard work and the intelligent application of proved-up principles. _gathering_ material and _picking_ out talking points part i--preparing to write the letter--chapter _arguments--prices, styles, terms, quality or whatever they may be--are effective only when used on the right "prospect" at the right time. the correspondent who has some message of value to carry gathers together a mass of "raw material"--facts, figures and specifications on which to base his arguments--and then he selects the particular talking points that will appeal to his prospect. by systematic tests, the relative values of various arguments may be determined almost to a scientific nicety. how to gather and classify this material and how to determine what points are most effective is the subject in this chapter_ * * * * * an architect can sit down and design your house on paper, showing its exact proportions, the finish of every room, the location of every door and window. he can give specific instructions for building your house but before you can begin operations you have got to get together the brick and mortar and lumber--all the material used in its construction. and so the correspondent-architect can point out the way to write a letter: how to begin, how to work up interest, how to present argument, how to introduce salesmanship, how to work in a clincher and how to close, but when you come to writing the letter that applies to your particular business you have first to gather the material. and just as you select cement or brick or lumber according to the kind of house you want to build, so the correspondent must gather the particular kind of material he wants for his letter, classify it and arrange it so that the best can be quickly selected. the old school of correspondents--and there are many graduates still in business--write solely from their own viewpoint. their letters are focused on "our goods," "our interests" and "our profits." but the new school of letter writers keep their own interests in the background. their sole aim is to focus on the viewpoint of the reader; find the subjects in which he is interested, learn the arguments that will appeal to him, bear down on the persuasion that will induce him to act at once. and so the successful correspondent should draw arguments and talking points from many sources; from the house, from the customer, from competitors, from the news of the day from his knowledge of human nature. "what shall i do first?" asked a new salesman of the general manager. "sell yourself," was the laconic reply, and every salesman and correspondent in the country could well afford to take this advice to heart. sell yourself; answer every objection that you can think of, test out the proposition from every conceivable angle; measure it by other similar products; learn its points of weakness and of superiority, know its possibilities and its limitations. convince yourself; sell yourself, and then you will be able to sell others. the first source of material for the correspondent is in the house itself. his knowledge must run back to the source of raw materials: the kinds of materials used, where they come from, the quality and the quantity required, the difficulties in obtaining them, the possibilities of a shortage, all the problems of mining or gathering the raw material and getting it from its source to the plant--a vast storehouse of talking points. then it is desirable to have a full knowledge of the processes of manufacture; the method of handling work in the factory, the labor saving appliances used, the new processes that have been perfected, the time required in turning out goods, the delays that are liable to occur--these are all pertinent and may furnish the strongest kind of selling arguments. and it is equally desirable to have inside knowledge of the methods in the sales department, in the receiving room and the shipping room. it is necessary for the correspondent to know the firm's facilities for handling orders; when deliveries can be promised, what delays are liable to occur, how goods are packed, the condition in which they are received by the customer, the probable time required in reaching the customer. another nearby source of information is the status of the customer's account; whether he is slow pay or a man who always discounts his bills. it is a very important fact for the correspondent to know whether the records show an increasing business or a business that barely holds its own. then a most important source--by many considered the most valuable material of all--is the customer himself. it may be laid down as a general proposition that the more the correspondent knows about the man to whom he is writing, the better appeal he can make. in the first place, he wants to know the size and character of the customer's business. he should know the customer's location, not merely as a name that goes on the envelope, but some pertinent facts regarding the state or section. if he can find out something regarding a customer's standing and his competition, it will help him to understand his problems. fortunate is the correspondent who knows something regarding the personal peculiarities of the man to whom he is writing. if he understands his hobbies, his cherished ambition, his home life, he can shape his appeal in a more personal way. it is comparatively easy to secure such information where salesmen are calling on the trade, and many large houses insist upon their representatives' making out very complete reports, giving a mass of detailed information that will be valuable to the correspondent. then there is a third source of material, scarcely less important than the study of the house and the customer, and that is a study of the competitors--other firms who are in the same line of business and going after the same trade. the broad-gauged correspondent never misses an opportunity to learn more about the goods of competing houses--the quality of their products, the extent of their lines, their facilities for handling orders, the satisfaction that their goods are giving, the terms on which they are sold and which managers are hustling and up to the minute in their methods. the correspondent can also find information, inspiration and suggestion from the advertising methods of other concerns--not competitors but firms in a similar line. then there are various miscellaneous sources of information. the majority of correspondents study diligently the advertisements in general periodicals; new methods and ideas are seized upon and filed in the "morgue" for further reference. where a house travels a number of men, the sales department is an excellent place from which to draw talking points. interviewing salesmen as they come in from trips and so getting direct information, brings out talking points which are most helpful as are those secured by shorthand reports of salesmen's conventions. many firms get convincing arguments by the use of detailed forms asking for reports on the product. one follow-up writer gets valuable pointers from complaints which he terms "reverse" or "left-handed" talking points. some correspondents become adept in coupling up the news of the day with their products. a thousand and one different events may be given a twist to connect the reader's interest with the house products and supply a reason for "buying now." the fluctuation in prices of raw materials, drought, late seasons, railway rates, fires, bumper crops, political discussions, new inventions, scientific achievements--there is hardly a happening that the clever correspondent, hard pressed for new talking points, cannot work into a sales letter as a reason for interesting the reader in his goods. * * * * * sources of material: / . sources / . raw materials --| . quality | | . supply | \ . price | | / . capacity of plant | plant | | . new equipment | . processes of --| . time saving | manufacture | devices | \ . improved methods /- . the house------| | | / . methods of | | | salesmen | | . knowledge of --| . policy of | | departments | credit dept. | | | . conditions in | | | receiving & | | \ shipping depts. | | | | . knowledge of | | costs | | | | . status of / . credit | | customer's --| standing | | account | . growing | | \ business | | | | / . old letters | | | . advertisements | | . documents --| . booklets, | | | circulars, etc. | | \ . testimonials | | | | / . acquaintances | | | of officers | \ . personnel of --| . interests & | firm | relations | \ of officers | | / . character or |- . the customers--| kind of business | | | | . size of business | | | | . length of time | | in business | | sources | . location & local of | conditions material | | | . competition | | | | . standing with | | customers | | | | . methods & policies | | | | . hobbies & personal | \ peculiarities | | / . quality | / . goods --| . extent of lines | | \ . new lines | | | | / . terms | | . policies --| . treatment of | | \ customers | | |- . competitors----| / . size of plant | | . capacity --| . equipment | | | . facilities for | | \ handling order | | | | / . new campaigns | \ . methods --| . advertising | \ . aggressiveness | | / . methods | | |- . other methods--| . advertising | (not | | competitors) \ . sales campaigns | | / . methods | / . supply houses --\ . capacity | | | | . general market \- . miscellaneous--| conditions | | . current events | | . advertising in \ general magazines * * * * * gathering the information is apt to be wasted effort unless it is classified and kept where it is instantly available. a notebook for ideas should always be at hand and men who write important sales letters should keep within reach scrapbooks, folders or envelopes containing "inspirational" material to which they can readily refer. the scrapbook, a card index or some such method for classifying and filing material is indispensable. two or three pages or cards may be devoted to each general subject, such as raw material, processes of manufacture, methods of shipping, uses, improvements, testimonials, and so forth, and give specific information that is manna for the correspondent. the data may consist of notes he has written, bits of conversation he has heard, extracts from articles he has read, advertisements of other concerns and circulars--material picked up from a thousand sources. one versatile writer uses heavy manila sheets about the size of a letterhead and on these he pastes the catch-lines, the unique phrases, the forceful arguments, the graphic descriptions and statistical information that he may want to use. several sheets are filled with metaphors and figures of speech that he may want to use some time in illuminating a point. these sheets are more bulky than paper but are easier to handle than a scrapbook, and they can be set up in front of the writer while he is working. another correspondent has an office that looks as if it had been decorated with a crazy quilt. whenever he finds a word, a sentence, a paragraph or a page that he wants to keep he pins or pastes it on the wall. "i don't want any systematic classification of this stuff," he explains, "for in looking for the particular word or point that i want, i go over so many other words and points that i keep all the material fresh in my mind. no good points are buried in some forgotten scrapbook; i keep reading these things until they are as familiar to me as the alphabet." it may be very desirable to keep booklets, pamphlets and bulky matter that cannot be pasted into a book or onto separate sheets in manila folders. this is the most convenient way for classifying and filing heavy material. or large envelopes may be used for this purpose. another favorite method of arrangement in filing talking points for reference is that of filing them in the order of their pulling power. this, in many propositions, is considered the best method. it is not possible, out of a list of arguments to tell, until after the try-out always, which will pull and which will not. those pulling best will be worked the most. only as more extensive selling literature is called for will the weaker points be pressed into service. no matter what system is used, it must be a growing system; it must be kept up to date by the addition of new material, picked up in the course of the day's work. much material is gathered and saved that is never used, but the wise correspondent does not pass by an anecdote, a good simile, a clever appeal or forcible argument simply because he does not see at the moment how he can make use of it. in all probability the time will come when that story or that figure of speech will just fit in to illustrate some point he is trying to make. nor does the correspondent restrict his material to the subject in which he is directly interested, for ideas spring from many sources and the advertisement of some firm in an entirely different line may give him a suggestion or an inspiration that will enable him to work up an original talking point. and so it will be found that the sources of material are almost unlimited--limited in fact, only by the ability of the writer to see the significance of a story, a figure of speech or an item of news, and connect it up with his particular proposition. but gathering and classifying material available for arguments is only preliminary work. a wide knowledge of human nature is necessary to select from these arguments those that will appeal to the particular prospect or class of prospects you are trying to reach. "when you sit down to write an important letter, how do you pick out your talking points?" this question was put to a man whose letters have been largely responsible for an enormous mail-order business. "the first thing i do," he replied, "is to wipe my pen and put the cork in the ink bottle." his answer summarizes everything that can be said about selecting talking points: before you start to write, study the proposition, picture in your mind the man to whom you are writing, get his viewpoint, pick out the arguments that will appeal to him and then write your letter to that individual. the trouble with most letters is that they are not aimed carefully, the writer does not try to find the range but blazes away in hopes that some of the shots will take effect. there are a hundred things that might be said about this commodity that you want to market. it requires a knowledge of human nature, and of salesmanship to single out the particular arguments and the inducement that will carry most weight with the individual to whom you are writing. for even if you are preparing a form letter it will be most effective if it is written directly at some individual who most nearly represents the conditions, the circumstances and the needs of the class you are trying to reach. only the new correspondent selects the arguments that are nearest at hand--the viewpoints that appeal to him. the high score letter writers look to outside sources for their talking points. one of the most fruitful sources of information is the men who have bought your goods. the features that induced them to buy your product, the things that they talk about are the very things that will induce others to buy that same product. find out what pleases the man who is using your goods and you may be sure that this same feature will appeal to the prospect. it is equally desirable to get information from the man who did not buy your machine--learn his reasons, find out what objections he has against it; where, in his estimation, it fell short of his requirements; for it is reasonably certain that other prospects will raise the same objections and it is a test of good salesmanship to anticipate criticisms and present arguments that will forestall such objections. in every office there should be valuable evidence in the files-- advertisements, letters, circulars, folders and other publicity matter that has been used in past campaigns. in the most progressive business houses, every campaign is thoroughly tested out; arguments, schemes, and talking points are proved up on test lists, the law of averages enabling the correspondent to tell with mathematical accuracy the pulling power of every argument he has ever used. the record of tests; the letters that have fallen down and the letters that have pulled, afford information that is invaluable in planning new campaigns. the arguments and appeals that have proved successful in the past can be utilized over and over again on new lists or given a new setting and used on old lists. the time has passed when a full volley is fired before the ammunition is tested and the range found. the capable letter writer tests out his arguments and proves the strength of his talking points without wasting a big appropriation. his letters are tested as accurately as the chemist in his laboratory tests the strength or purity of material that is submitted to him for analysis. how letters are keyed and tested is the subject of another chapter. no matter what kind of a letter you are writing, keep this fact in mind: never use an argument on the reader that does not appeal to you, the writer. know your subject; know your goods from the source of the raw material to the delivery of the finished product. and then in selling them, pick out the arguments that will appeal to the reader; look at the proposition through the eyes of the prospect; sell yourself the order first and you will have found the talking points that will sell the prospect. when you _sit down_ to write part i--preparing to write the letter--chapter _the weakness of most letters is not due to ungrammatical sentences or to a poor style, but to a wrong viewpoint: the writer presents a proposition from his own viewpoint instead of that of the reader. the correspondent has gone far towards success when he can_ visualize _his prospect, see his environments, his needs, his ambitions, and_ approach _the_ prospect _from_ this angle. _this chapter tells how to get the class idea; how to see the man to whom you are writing and that equally important qualification, how to get into the mood for writing--actual methods used by effective correspondents_ * * * * * when you call on another person or meet him in a business transaction you naturally have in mind a definite idea of what you want to accomplish. that is, if you expect to carry your point. you know that this end cannot be reached except by a presentation which will put your proposition in such a favorable light, or offer such an inducement, or so mould the minds of others to your way of thinking that they will agree with you. and so before you meet the other person you proceed to plan your campaign, your talk, your attitude to fit his personality and the conditions under which you expect to meet. an advertising man in an eastern mining town was commissioned to write a series of letters to miners, urging upon them the value of training in a night school about to be opened. now he knew all about the courses the school would offer and he was strong on generalities as to the value of education. but try as he would, the letters refused to take shape. then suddenly he asked himself, "what type of man am i really trying to reach?" and there lay the trouble. he had never met a miner face to face in his life. as soon as he realized this he reached for his hat and struck out for the nearest coal breaker. he put in two solid days talking with miners, getting a line on the average of intelligence, their needs--the point of contact. then he came back and with a vivid picture of his man in mind, he produced a series of letters that glowed with enthusiasm and sold the course. a number of years ago a printer owning a small shop in an ohio city set out to find a dryer that would enable him to handle his work faster and without the costly process of "smut-sheeting." he interested a local druggist who was something of a chemist and together they perfected a dryer that was quite satisfactory and the printer decided to market his product. he wrote fifteen letters to acquaintances and sold eleven of them. encouraged, he got out one hundred letters and sold sixty-four orders. on the strength of this showing, his banker backed him for the cost of a hundred thousand letters and fifty-eight thousand orders were the result. the banker was interested in a large land company and believing the printer must be a veritable wizard in writing letters, made him an attractive offer to take charge of the advertising for the company's minnesota and canada lands. the man sold his business, accepted the position--and made a signal failure. he appealed to the printers because he knew their problems--the things that lost them money, the troubles that caused them sleepless nights--and in a letter that bristled with shop talk he went straight to the point, told how he could help them out of at least one difficulty--and sold his product. but when it came to selling western land he was out of his element. he had never been a hundred miles away from his home town; he had never owned a foot of real estate; "land hunger" was to him nothing but a phrase; the opportunities of a "new country" were to him academic arguments--they were not realities. he lost his job. discouraged but determined, he moved to kansas where he started a small paper--and began to study the real estate business. one question was forever on his lips: "why did you move out here?" and to prospective purchasers, "why do you want to buy kansas land? what attracts you?" month after month he asked these questions of pioneers and immigrants. he wanted their viewpoint, the real motive that drove them westward. then he took in a partner, turned the paper over to him and devoted his time to the real estate business. today he is at the head of a great land company and through his letters and his advertising matter he has sold hundreds of thousands of acres to people who have never seen the land. but he tells them the things they want to know; he uses the arguments that "get under the skin." he spent years in preparing to write his letters and bought and sold land with prospects "face to face" long before he attempted to deal with them by letter. he talked and thought and studied for months before he dipped his pen into ink. now before he starts a letter, he calls to mind someone to whom he has sold a similar tract in the past; he remembers how each argument was received; what appeals struck home and then, in his letter, he talks to that man just as earnestly as if his future happiness depended upon making the one sale. the preparation to write the letter should be two-fold: knowing your product or proposition and knowing the man you want to reach. you have got to see the proposition through the eyes of your prospect. the printer sold his ink dryer because he looked at it from the angle of the buyer and later he sold real estate, but not until he covered up his own interest and presented the proposition from the viewpoint of the prospect. probably most successful letter writers, when they sit down to write, consciously or unconsciously run back over faces and characteristics of friends and acquaintances until they find someone who typifies the class they desire to reach. when writing to women, one man always directs his appeal to his mother or sister; if trying to interest young men he turns his mind back to his own early desires and ambitions. visualize your prospect. fix firmly in your mind some one who represents the class you are trying to reach; forget that there is any other prospect in the whole world; concentrate your attention and selling talk on this one individual. "if you are going to write letters that pull," says one successful correspondent, "you have got to be a regular spiritualist in order to materialize the person to whom you are writing; bring him into your office and talk to him face to face." "the first firm i ever worked for," he relates, "was andrew campbell & son. the senior campbell was a conservative old scotchman who had made a success in business by going cautiously and thoroughly into everything he took up. the only thing that would appeal to him would be a proposition that could be presented logically and with the strongest kind of arguments to back it up. the son, on the other hand, was thoroughly american; ready to take a chance, inclined to plunge and try out a new proposition because it was new or unique; the novelty of a thing appealed to him and he was interested because it was out of the ordinary. "whenever i have an important letter to write, i keep these two men in mind and i center all my efforts to convince them; using practical, commonsense arguments to convince the father, and enough snappy 'try-it-for-yourself' talk to win the young man." according to this correspondent, every firm in a measure represents these two forces, conservative and radical, and the strongest letter is the one that makes an appeal to both elements. a young man who had made a success in selling books by mail was offered double the salary to take charge of the publicity department of a mail-order clothing house. he agreed to accept--two months later. reluctantly the firm consented. the firm saw or heard nothing from him until he reported for work. he had been shrewd enough not to make the mistake of the printer who tried to sell land and so he went to a small town in northern iowa where a relative owned a clothing store and started in as a clerk. after a month he jumped to another store in southern minnesota. at each place--typical country towns--he studied the trade and when not waiting on customers busied himself near some other clerk so he could hear the conversation, find out the things the farmers and small town men looked for in clothes and learn the talking points that actually sell the goods. this man who had a position paying $ , a year waiting for him spent two months at $ a week preparing to write. a more conceited chap would have called it a waste of time, but this man thought that he could well afford to spend eight weeks and sacrifice nearly a thousand dollars learning to write letters and advertisements that would sell clothes by mail. at the end of the year he was given a raise that more than made up his loss. nor is he content, for every year he spends a few weeks behind the counter in some small town, getting the viewpoint of the people with whom he deals, finding a point of contact, getting local color and becoming familiar with the manner of speech and the arguments that will get orders. when he sits down to write a letter or an advertisement he has a vivid mental picture of the man he wants to interest; he knows that man's process of thinking, the thing that appeals to him, the arguments that will reach right down to his pocket-book. a man who sells automatic scales to grocers keeps before him the image of a small dealer in his home town. the merchant had fallen into the rut, the dust was getting thicker on his dingy counters and trade was slipping away to more modern stores. "mother used to send me on errands to that store when i was a boy," relates the correspondent, "and i had been in touch with it for twenty years. i knew the local conditions; the growth of competition that was grinding out the dealer's life. "i determined to sell him and every week he received a letter from the house--he did not know of my connection with it--and each letter dealt with some particular problem that i knew he had to face. i kept this up for six months without calling forth a response of any kind; but after the twenty-sixth letter had gone out, the manager came in one day with an order--and the cash accompanied it. the dealer admitted that it was the first time he had ever bought anything of the kind by mail. but i knew _his_ problems, and i connected them up with our scales in such a way that he _had_ to buy. "those twenty-six letters form the basis for all my selling arguments, for in every town in the country there are merchants in this same rut, facing the same competition, and they can be reached only by connecting their problems with our scales." no matter what your line may be, you have got to use some such method if you are going to make your letters pull the orders. materialize your prospect; overcome every objection and connect _their_ problems with _your_ products. when you sit down to your desk to write a letter, how do you get into the right mood? some, like mediums, actually work themselves into a sort of trance before starting to write. one man insists that he writes good letters only when he gets mad--which is his way of generating nervous energy. others go about it very methodically and chart out the letter, point by point. they analyze the proposition and out of all the possible arguments and appeals, carefully select those that their experience and judgment indicate will appeal strongest to the individual whom they are addressing. on a sheet of paper one man jots down the arguments that may be used and by a process of elimination, scratches off one after another until he has left only the ones most likely to reach his prospect. many correspondents keep within easy reach a folder or scrapbook of particularly inspiring letters, advertisements and other matter gathered from many sources. one man declares that no matter how dull he may feel when he reaches the office in the morning he can read over a few pages in his scrapbook and gradually feel his mind clear; his enthusiasm begins to rise and within a half hour he is keyed up to the writing mood. a correspondent in a large mail-order house keeps a scrapbook of pictures--a portfolio of views of rural life and life in small towns. he subscribes to the best farm papers and clips out pictures that are typical of rural life, especially those that represent types and show activities of the farm, the furnishings of the average farm house--anything that will make clearer the environment of the men and women who buy his goods. when he sits down to write a letter he looks through this book until he finds some picture that typifies the man who needs the particular article he wants to sell and then he writes to that man, keeping the picture before him, trying to shape every sentence to impress such a person. other correspondents are at a loss to understand the pulling power of his letters. a sales manager in a typewriter house keeps the managers of a score of branch offices and several hundred salesmen gingered up by his weekly letters. he prepares to write these letters by walking through the factory, where he finds inspiration in the roar of machinery, the activity of production, the atmosphere of actual creative work. there are many sources of inspiration. study your temperament, your work and your customers to find out under what conditions your production is the easiest and greatest. it is neither necessary nor wise to write letters when energies and interest are at a low ebb, when it is comparatively easy to stimulate the lagging enthusiasm and increase your power to write letters that bring results. how to _begin_ a business letter part ii--how to write the letter--chapter _from its saluation to its signature a business letter must hold the interest of the reader or fail in its purpose. the most important sentence in it is obviously the_ first _one, for upon it depends whether the reader will dip further into the letter or discard it into the waste basket_. in that first sentence the writer has his chance. _if he is really capable, he will not only attract the reader's interest in that first sentence, but put him into a receptive mood for the message that follows. here are some sample ways of "opening" a business letter_ * * * * * no matter how large your tomorrow morning's mail, it is probable that you will glance through the first paragraph of every letter you open. if it catches your attention by reference to something in which you are interested, or by a clever allusion or a striking head line or some original style, it is probable you will read at least the next paragraph or two. but if these paragraphs do not keep up your interest the letter will be passed by unfinished. if you fail to give the letter a full reading the writer has only himself to blame. he has not taken advantage of his opportunity to carry your interest along and develop it until he has driven his message home, point by point. in opening the letter the importance of the salutation must not be ignored. if a form letter from some one who does not know mr. brown, personally, starts out "dear mr. brown," he is annoyed. a man with self-respect resents familiarity from a total stranger--someone who has no interest in him except as a possible customer for his commodity. if a clerk should address a customer in such a familiar manner it would be looked upon as an insult. yet it is no uncommon thing to receive letters from strangers that start out with one of these salutations: "dear benson:" "my dear mr. benson:" "respected friend:" "dear brother:" while it is desirable to get close to the reader; and you want to talk to him in a very frank manner and find a point of personal contact, this assumption of friendship with a total stranger disgusts a man before he begins your letter. you start out with a handicap that is hard to overcome, and an examination of a large number of letters using such salutations are enough to create suspicion for all; too often they introduce some questionable investment proposition or scheme that would never appeal to the hard-headed, conservative business man. "dear sir" or "gentlemen" is the accepted salutation, at least until long correspondence and cordial relations justify a more intimate greeting. the ideal opening, of course, strikes a happy medium between too great formality on the one hand and a cringing servility or undue familiarity on the other hand. no one will dispute the statement that the reason so many selling campaigns fail is not because of a lack of merit in the propositions themselves but because they are not effectively presented. for most business men read their letters in a receptive state of mind. the letterhead may show that the message concerns a duplicating machine and the one to whom it is addressed may feel confident in his own mind that he does not want a duplicating machine. at the same time he is willing to read the letter, for it may give him some new idea, some practical suggestion as to how such a device would be a good investment and make money for him. he is anxious to learn how the machine may be related to his particular problems. but it is not likely that he has time or sufficient interest to wade through a long letter starting out: "we take pleasure in sending you under separate cover catalogue of our latest models of print-quicks, and we are sure it will prove of interest to you." * * * * * the man who has been sufficiently interested in an advertisement to send for a catalogue finds his interest cooling rapidly when he picks up a letter that starts out like this: "we have your valued inquiry of recent date, and we take pleasure in acknowledging," and so forth. * * * * * suppose the letter replying to his inquiry starts out in this style: "the picture on page of our catalogue is a pretty fair one, but i wish you could see the desk itself." * * * * * the reader's attention is immediately gripped and he reaches for the catalogue to look at the picture on page five. to get attention and arouse interest, avoid long-spun introductions and hackneyed expressions. rambling sentences and loose paragraphs have proved the graveyard for many excellent propositions. time-worn expressions and weather-beaten phrases are poor conductors, there, is too much resistance-loss in the current of the reader's interest. the best way to secure attention naturally depends upon the nature of the proposition and the class of men to whom the letter is written. one of the most familiar methods is that known to correspondents as the "mental shock." the idea is to put at the top of the letter a "stop! look! listen!" sign. examples of this style are plentiful: this means money to you--_big money_ let me pay your next month's rent read it--on our word it's worth reading stop shoveling your money into the furnace now listen! i want a personal word with you cut your light bill in half * * * * * such introductions have undoubtedly proved exceedingly effective at times, but like many other good things, the idea has been overworked. the catch-line of itself sells no goods and to be effective it must be followed by trip-hammer arguments. interest created in this way is hard to keep up. the correspondent may use a catch-line, just as the barker at a side show uses a megaphone--the noise attracts a crowd but it does not sell the tickets. it is the "spiel" the barker gives that packs the tent. and so the average man is not influenced so much by a bold catch-line in his letters as by the paragraphs that follow. some correspondents even run a catch-line in red ink at the top of the page, but these yellow journal "scare-heads" fall short with the average business proposition. then attention may be secured, not by a startling sentence but by the graphic way in which a proposition is stated. here is an opening that starts out with a clear-cut swing: "if we were to offer you a hundred-dollar bill as a gift we take it for granted that you would be interested. if, then, our goods will mean to you many times that sum every year isn't the proposition still more interesting? do you not want us to demonstrate what we say? are you not willing to invest a little of your time watching this demonstration?" * * * * * this reference to a hundred-dollar bill creates a concrete image in the mind of the reader. the letters that first used this attention-getter proved so effective that the idea has been worked over in many forms. here is the effective way one correspondent starts out: "if this letter were printed on ten-dollar bills it could scarcely be more valuable to you than the offer it now contains. you want money; we want your business. let's go into partnership." * * * * * here is a letter sent out by a manufacturer of printing presses: "if your press feeders always showed up on monday morning; if they were never late, never got tired, never became careless, never grumbled about working overtime, you would increase the output of your plant, have less trouble, make more money--that is why you will be interested in the speedwell automatic feeding attachment." * * * * * this paragraph summarizes many of the troubles of the employing printer. it "gets under his skin," it is graphic, depicting one of the greatest problems of his business and so he is certain to read the letter and learn more about the solution that it offers. this same paragraph might also be used as a good illustration of that effective attention-getter, the quick appeal to the problems that are of most concern to the reader. the one great trouble with the majority of letters is that they start out with "we" and from first to last have a selfish viewpoint: "we have your valued inquiry of recent date and, as per your request, we take pleasure in enclosing herewith a copy of our latest catalogue," and so forth. * * * * * don't begin by talking about yourself, your company, your business, your growth, your progress, your improved machinery, your increased circulation, your newly invested capital. the reader has not the faintest interest in you or your business until he can see some connection between it and his own welfare. by itself it makes no play whatever to his attention; it must first be coupled up with his problems and his needs. begin by talking about him, his company, his business, his progress, his troubles, his disappointments, his needs, his ambition. that is where he lives day and night. knock at that door and you will find him at home. touch upon some vital need in his business-- some defect or tangle that is worrying him--some weak spot that he wants to remedy--some cherished ambition that haunts him--and you will have rung the bell of his interest. a few openings that are designed to get the reader's attention and induce him to read farther, are shown here: "your letter reached me at a very opportune time as i have been looking for a representative in your territory." * * * * * "by using this code you can telegraph us for any special article you want and it will be delivered at your store the following morning. this will enable you to compete with the large mail-order houses. it will give you a service that will mean more business and satisfied customers." * * * * * "you can save the wages of one salesman in every department of your store. just as you save money by using a typewriter, addressograph, adding machine, cash register and other modern equipments, so you can save it by installing a simplex." * * * * * "don't you want to know how to add two thousand square feet of display to some department of your store in exchange for twenty feet of wall?" * * * * * "yes, there is a mighty good opening in your territory for hustling salesmen. you will receive a complete outfit by express so you can start at once." * * * * * keep the interest of the reader in mind. no matter how busy he is, he will find time to read your letter if you talk about his problems and his welfare. some correspondents, having taken only the first lesson in business letter writing, over-shoot the mark with a lot of "hot air" that is all too apparent. here is the opening paragraph from one of these writers: "by the concise and business-like character of your letter of inquiry we know that you would be very successful in the sale of our typewriters. this personal and confidential circular letter is sent only to a few of our selected correspondents whom we believe can be placed as general agents." * * * * * as a matter of fact, the gentleman to whom this letter was sent had written with a lead pencil on a post card asking for further particulars regarding propositions to salesmen. it is a good illustration of the form letter gone wrong. the inquirer had not written a concise and business-like letter and there was not the slightest reason why the firm should send him a personal and confidential proposition and if the proposition were really confidential, it would not be printed in a circular letter. here is the opening paragraph of a letter typical in its lack of originality and attention-getting qualities: "we are in receipt of yours of recent date and in reply wish to state that you will find under separate cover a copy of our latest catalogue, illustrating and describing our wonder lighting system. we are sure the information contained in this catalogue will be of interest to you." * * * * * not only is the paragraph devoid of interest-getting features, but it is written from the wrong standpoint--"we" instead of "you." re-write the paragraph and the reader is certain to have his interest stimulated: "the catalogue is too large to enclose with this letter and so you will find it in another envelope. you will find on page a complete description of the wonder system of lighting, explaining just how it will cut down your light bill. this system is adapted to use in stores, factories, public halls and homes--no matter what you want you will find it listed in this catalogue." * * * * * then it is possible to secure attention by some familiar allusion, some reference to facts with which the reader is familiar: "in our fathers' day, you know, all fine tableware was hand forged--that meant quality but high cost." * * * * * the opening statement secures the assent of the reader even before he knows what the proposition is. sometimes an allusion may be introduced that does not come home so pointedly to the reader but the originality of the idea appeals to him. by its very cleverness he is led to read further. here is the beginning of a letter sent out by an advertising man and commercial letter writer: "the prodigal son might have started home much sooner had he received an interesting letter about the fatted calf that awaited his coming. "the right sort of a letter would have attracted his attention, aroused his interest, created a desire and stimulated him to action." * * * * * then there is the opening that starts out with an appeal to human interest. it is the one opening where the writer can talk about himself and still get attention and work up interest: "let me tell you how i got into the mail order business and made so much money out of it." * * * * * "i wish i could have had the opportunity thirty years ago that you have today. did i ever tell you how i started out?" * * * * * "i have been successful because i have confidence in other people." * * * * * "i was talking to mr. phillips, the president of our institution, this morning, and he told me that you had written to us concerning our correspondence course." * * * * * these personal touches bring the writer and reader close together and pave the way for a man-to-man talk. then there is a way of getting attention by some novel idea, something unusual in the typography of the letter, some unusual idea. one mail-order man puts these two lines written with a typewriter across the top of his letterheads: "even if you had to pay to secure a copy of this letter--or had to take a day off to read it--you could not afford to fail to consider it." * * * * * few men would receive a letter like that without taking the time to read it, at least hurriedly, and if the rest of the argument is presented with equal force the message is almost sure to be carried home. another mail-order house sending out form letters under one-cent postage, inserts this sentence directly under the date line, to the right of the name and address: "leaving our letter unsealed for postal inspection is the best proof that our goods are exactly as represented." * * * * * the originality of the idea impresses one. there is no danger that the letter will be shunted into the waste basket without a reading. there are times when it is necessary to disarm the resentment of the reader in the very first paragraph, as, for instance, when there has been a delay in replying to a letter. an opening that is all too common reads: "i have been so extremely busy that your letter has not received my attention." * * * * * or the writer may be undiplomatic enough to say: "pardon delay. i have been so much engaged with other matters that i have not found time to write you." * * * * * the considerate correspondent is always careful that his opening does not rub the wrong way. one writer starts out by saying: "you have certainly been very patient with me in the matter of your order and i wish to thank you for this." * * * * * here are the first five paragraphs of a two-page letter from an investment firm. the length of the letter is greatly against it and the only hope the writer could have, would be in getting the attention firmly in the opening paragraph: "my dear mr. wilson: "i want to have a personal word with you to explain this matter. "i don't like to rush things; i believe in taking my time. i always try to do it. i want you to do the same thing, but there are exceptions to all rules: sometimes we cannot do things just the way we want to and at the same time reap all the benefits. "here is the situation. i went out to the oil fields of california and while there i did devote plenty and ample time to proper investigation. i went into the thing thoroughly. i went there intending to invest my own money if i found things right. "my main object in leaving for california was to investigate for my clients, but i would not advise my clients to invest their money unless the situation was such that i would invest my own money. that's where i stand--first, last and all the time. "i don't go into the torrid deserts in the heat of the summer and stay there for weeks just for fun. there is no fun or pleasure to it, let me tell you. it's hard work when one investigates properly, and i surely did it right. i guess you know that." * * * * * the letter is not lacking in style; the writer knows how to put things forcibly, but he takes up half a page of valuable space before he says anything vital to his subject. see how much stronger his letter would have been had he started with the fifth paragraph, following it with the fourth paragraph. the great weakness in many letters is padding out the introduction with non-essential material. it takes the writer too long to get down to his proposition. here is a letter from a concern seeking to interest agents: "we are in receipt of your valued inquiry and we enclose herewith full information in regard to the e. z. washing compound and our terms to agents. "we shall be pleased to mail you a washing sample post-paid on receipt of four cents in two-cent stamps or a full size can for ten cents, which amount you may subtract from your first order, thus getting the sample free. we would like to send you a sample without requiring any deposit but we have been so widely imposed upon by 'sample grafters' in the past that we can no longer afford to do this." * * * * * the first paragraph is hackneyed and written from the standpoint of the writer rather than that of the reader. the second paragraph is a joke. seven lines, lines that ought to be charged with magnetic, interest-getting statements, are devoted to explaining why ten cents' worth of samples are not sent free, but that this "investment" will be deducted from the first order. what is the use of saving a ten-cent sample if you lose the interest of a possible agent, whose smallest sales would amount to several times this sum? it is useless to spend time and thought in presenting your proposition and working in a clincher unless you get attention and stimulate the reader's interest in the beginning. practically everyone will read your opening paragraph--whether he reads further will depend upon those first sentences. do not deceive yourself by thinking that because your proposition is interesting to you, it will naturally be interesting to others. do not put all your thought on argument and inducements--the man to whom you are writing may never read that far. lead up to your proposition from the reader's point of view; couple up your goods with his needs; show him where he will benefit and he will read your letter through to the postscript. get his attention and arouse his interest--then you are ready to present your proposition. how to _present_ your proposition part ii--how to write the letter--chapter _after attention has been secured, you must lead quickly to your description and explanation; visualize your product and introduce your proof, following this up with arguments. the art of the letter writer is found in his ability to lead the reader along, paragraph by paragraph, without a break in the_ point _of_ contact _that has been established. then the proposition must be presented so clearly that there is no possibility of its being misunderstood, and the product or the service must be coupled up with the_ reader's needs _how this can be done is described in this chapter_ * * * * * after you have attracted attention and stimulated the interest of the reader, you have made a good beginning, but only a beginning; you then have the hard task of holding that interest, explaining your proposition, pointing out the superiority of the goods or the service that you are trying to sell and making an inducement that will bring in the orders. your case is in court, the jury has been drawn, the judge is attentive and the opposing counsel is alert--it is up to you to prove your case. good business letter, consciously or unconsciously usually contains four elements: description, explanation, argument and persuasion. these factors may pass under different names, but they are present and most correspondents will include two other elements--inducement and clincher. in this chapter we will consider description, explanation and argument as the vehicles one may use in carrying his message to the reader. an essential part of all sales letters is a clear description of the article or goods--give the prospect a graphic idea of how the thing you are trying to sell him looks, and this description should follow closely after the interest-getting introduction. to describe an article graphically one has got to know it thoroughly: the material of which it is made; the processes of manufacture; how it is sold and shipped--every detail about it. there are two extremes to which correspondents frequently go. one makes the description too technical, using language and terms that are only partially understood by the reader. he does not appreciate that the man to whom he is writing may not understand the technical or colloquial language that is so familiar to everyone in the house. for instance, if a man wants to install an electric fan in his office, it would be the height of folly to write him a letter filled with technical descriptions about the quality of the fan, the magnetic density of the iron that is used, the quality of the insulation, the kilowatts consumed--"talking points" that would be lost on the average business man. the letter that would sell him would give specific, but not technical information, about how the speed of the fan is easily regulated, that it needs to be oiled but once a year, and costs so much a month to operate. these are the things in which the prospective customer is interested. then there is the correspondent whose descriptions are too vague; too general--little more than bald assertions. a letter from a vacuum cleaner manufacturing company trying to interest agents is filled with such statements as: "this is the best hand power machine ever manufactured," "it is the greatest seller ever produced," "it sells instantly upon demonstration." no one believes such exaggerations as these. near the end of the letter--where the writer should be putting in his clincher, there is a little specific information stating that the device weighs only five pounds, is made of good material and can be operated by a child. if this paragraph had followed quickly after the introduction and had gone into further details, the prospect might have been interested, but it is probable that the majority of those who received the letter never read as far as the bottom of the second page. if a man is sufficiently interested in a product to write for catalogue and information, or if you have succeeded in getting his attention in the opening paragraph of a sales letter, he is certain to read a description that is specific and definite. the average man thinks of a work bench as a work bench and would be at a loss to describe one, but he has a different conception after reading these paragraphs from a manufacturer's letter: "just a word so you will understand the superiority of our goods. "our benches are built principally of maple, the very best michigan hard maple, and we carry this timber in our yards in upwards of a million feet at a time. it is piled up and allowed to air dry for at least two years before being used; then the stock is kiln dried to make sure that the lumber is absolutely without moisture or sap, and we know there can be no warping or opening of glue joints in the finished product. "our machinery is electrically driven, securing an even drive to the belt, thus getting the best work from all equipment--absolutely true cuts that give perfect joints to all work. "then, as to glue: some manufacturers contend that any glue that sticks will do. we insist there should be no question about glue joints; no 'perhaps' in our argument. that's why we use only the best by test; not merely sticking two pieces of wood together to try the joint quality, but glue that is scientifically tested for tenacity, viscosity, absorption, and for acid or coloring matter--in short, every test that can be applied." * * * * * this description is neither too technical nor too general; it carries conviction, it is specific enough to appeal to a master carpenter, and it is clear enough to be understood by the layman who never handled a saw or planer. it may be laid down as a principle that long description should ordinarily be made in circulars, folders or catalogues that are enclosed with the letter or sent in a separate envelope, but sometimes it is desirable to emphasize certain points in the letter. happy is the man who can eject enough originality into this description to make it easy reading. the majority of correspondents, in describing the parts of an automobile, would say: "the celebrated imperial wheel bearings are used, these do not need to be oiled oftener than once in six months." * * * * * a correspondent who knew how to throw light into dark places said: "imperial wheel bearings: grease twice a year and forget." * * * * * this "and forget" is such a clever stroke that you are carried on through the rest of the letter, and you are not bored with the figures and detailed description. in a similar way a sales manager, in writing the advertising matter for a motor cycle, leads up to his description of the motor and its capacity by the brief statement: "no limit to speed but the law." this is a friction clutch on the imagination that carries the reader's interest to the end. one writer avoids bringing technical descriptions into his letters, at the same time carrying conviction as to the quality of his goods: "this metal has been subjected to severe accelerated corrosion tests held in accordance with rigid specifications laid down by the american society for testing material, and has proven to corrode much less than either charcoal iron, wrought iron, or steel sheet. "a complete record of these tests and results will be found on the enclosed sheet." * * * * * then there are times when description may be almost entirely eliminated from the letter. for instance, if you are trying to sell a man a house and lot and he has been out to look at the place and has gone over it thoroughly, there is little more that you can say in the way of description. your letter must deal entirely with arguments as to why he should buy now--persuasion, inducement. or, if you are trying to sell him the typewriter that he has been trying out in his office for a month, description is unnecessary--the load your letter must carry is lightened. and there are letters in which explanation is unnecessary. if you are trying to get a man to order a suit of clothes by mail, you will not explain the use of clothes but you will bear down heavily on the description of the material that you put into these particular garments and point out why it is to his advantage to order direct of the manufacturers. but if you are presenting a new proposition, it is necessary to explain its nature, its workings, its principles and appliances. if you are trying to sell a fountain pen you will not waste valuable space in explaining to the reader what a fountain pen is good for and why he should have one, but rather you will give the reasons for buying your particular pen in preference to others. you will explain the self-filling feature and the new patent which prevents its leaking or clogging. it is not always possible to separate description and explanation. here is an illustration taken from a letter sent out by a mail-order shoe company: "i hope your delay in ordering is not the result of any lack of clear information about wearwells. let me briefly mention some of the features of wearwell shoes that i believe warrant you in favoring us with your order: (a) genuine custom style; (b) highest grade material and workmanship; (c) the best fit--thanks to our quarter-sized system--that it is possible to obtain in shoes; (d) thorough foot comfort and long wear; (e) our perfect mail-order service; and (f) the guaranteed proof of quality given in the specification tag sent with every pair." * * * * * this is a concise summary of a longer description that had been given in a previous letter and it explains why the shoes will give satisfaction. here is the paragraph by which the manufacturer of a time-recording device, writing about the advantages of his system puts in explanation plus argument: "every employee keeps his own time and cannot question his own record. all mechanism is hidden and locked. nothing can be tampered with. the clock cannot be stopped. the record cannot be beaten. "this device fits into any cost system and gives an accurate record of what time every man puts on every job. it serves the double purpose of furnishing you a correct time-on-job cost and prevents loafing. it stops costly leaks and enables you to figure profit to the last penny." * * * * * explanation may run in one of many channels. it may point out how the careful selection of raw material makes your product the best, or how the unusual facilities of your factory or the skill of your workmen, or the system of testing the parts assures the greatest value. you might explain why the particular improvements and the patents on your machines make it better or give it greater capacity. the description and the explanation must of necessity depend upon the character of the proposition, but it may be laid down as a general principle that the prospect must be made to understand thoroughly just what the article is for, how it is made, how it looks, how it is used, and what its points of superiority are. whenever possible, the description and explanation in the letter should be reinforced by samples or illustrations that will give a more graphic idea of the product. the prospect may be sufficiently familiar with the thing you are selling to relieve you of the necessity of describing and explaining, although usually these supports are necessary for a selling campaign. but it must be remembered that description and explanation alone do not make a strong appeal to the will. they may arouse interest and excite desire but they do not carry conviction as argument does. some letters are full of explanation and description but lack argument. the repair man from the factory may give a good explanation of how a machine works, but the chances are he would fall down in trying to sell the machine, unless he understood how to reinforce his explanations with a salesman's ability to use argument and persuasion. and so you must look well to your arguments, and the arguments that actually pull the most orders consist of proofs--cold, hard logic and facts that cannot be questioned. as you hope for the verdict of the jury you must prove your case. it is amazing how many correspondents fail to appreciate the necessity for arguments. pages will be filled with assertions, superlative adjectives, boastful claims of superiority, but not one sentence that offers proof of any statement, not one logical reason why the reader should be interested. "we know you will make a mint of money if you put in our goods." "this is the largest and most complete line in the country." "our factory has doubled its capacity during the last three years." "our terms are the most liberal that have ever been offered." "you are missing the opportunity of your lifetime if you do not accept this proposition." "we hope to receive your order by return mail, for you will never have such a wonderful opportunity again." such sentences fill the pages of thousands of letters that are mailed every day. "our system of inspection with special micrometer gauges insures all parts being perfect--within one-thousandth of an inch of absolute accuracy. this means, too, any time you want an extra part of your engine for replacement that you can get it and that it will fit. if we charged you twice as much for the white engine, we could not give you better material or workmanship." * * * * * now this is an argument that is worth while: that the parts of the engine are so accurately ground that repairs can be made quickly, and new parts will fit without a moment's trouble. the last sentence of the paragraph is of course nothing but assertion, but it is stated in a way that carries conviction. many correspondents would have bluntly declared that this was the best engine ever manufactured, or something of that kind, and made no impression at all on the minds of the readers. but the statement that the company could not make a better engine, even if it charged twice as much, sinks in. proof of quality is always one of the strongest arguments that can be used. a man wants to feel sure that he is given good value for his money, it matters not whether he is buying a lead pencil or an automobile. and next to argument of quality is the argument of price. here are some striking paragraphs taken from the letter sent out by a firm manufacturing gummed labels and advertising stickers: "we would rather talk quality than price because no other concern prints better stickers than ours--but we can't help talking price because no other concern charges as little for them as we do." * * * * * this is a strong statement but it is nothing more than a statement the writer, however, hastens to come forward with argument and proof: "you know we make a specialty of gummed labels--do nothing else. we have special machinery designed by ourselves--machinery that may be used by no other concern. this enables us to produce better stickers at a minimum expense. "all of our stickers are printed on the best stock, and double gummed, and, by the way, compare the gumming of our stickers with those put up by other concerns. we have built up a business and reputation on _stickers that stick and stay_." * * * * * if you were in the market for labels you would not hesitate to send an order to that firm, for the writer gives you satisfying reasons for the quality and the low price of his goods. the argument in favor of its goods is presented clearly, concisely, convincingly. the argument that will strike home to the merchant is one that points out his opportunity for gain. here is the way a wholesale grocer presented his proposition on a new brand of coffee: "you put in this brand of coffee and we stand back of you and push sales. our guarantee of quality goes with every pound we put out. ask the opinion of all your customers. if there is the least dissatisfaction, refund them the price of their coffee and deduct it from our next bill. so confident are we of the satisfaction that this coffee will give that we agree to take back at the end of six months all the remaining stock you have on hand--that is, if you do not care to handle the brand longer. "you have probably never sold guaranteed coffee before. you take no chances. the profit is as large as on other brands, and your customers will be impressed with the guarantee placed on every pound." * * * * * the guarantee and the offer of the free trial are possibly the two strongest arguments that can be used either with a dealer or in straight mail-order selling. among the arguments that are most effective are testimonials and references to satisfied users. if the writer can refer to some well-known firm or individual as a satisfied customer he strengthens his point. "when we showed this fixture to john wanamaker's man, it took just about three minutes to close the deal for six of them. since then they have ordered seventy-four more." * * * * * such references as this naturally inspire confidence in a proposition and extracts from letters may be used with great effect, provided the name and address of the writer is given, so that it will have every appearance of being genuine. a solicitor of patents at washington works into his letters to prospective clients quotations from manufacturers: "'we wish to be put in communication with the inventor of some useful novelty, instrument or device, who is looking for a way to market his invention. we want to increase our business along new lines and manufacture under contract, paying royalties to the patentee. "'if your clients have any articles of merit that they want to market, kindly communicate with us. our business is the manufacture of patented articles under contract and we can undoubtedly serve many of your clients in a profitable manner.'" * * * * * such extracts as these are intended to impress upon the inventor the desirability of placing his business with someone who has such a wide acquaintance and is in a position to put him in touch with manufacturers. to send a list of references may also prove a most convincing argument, especially if the writer can refer to some man or firm located near the one to whom he is writing. a mutual acquaintance forms a sort of connecting link that is a pulling force even though the reference is never looked up. in fact, it is only on occasions that references of this kind are investigated, for the mere naming of banks and prominent business men is sufficient to inspire confidence that the proposition is "on the square." after you have explained your proposition, described your goods and pointed out to the prospect how it is to his advantage to possess these goods, the time has come to make him an offer. one of the pathetic sins of business letter writers is to work in the price too early in the letter--before the prospect is interested in the proposition. the clever salesman always endeavors to work up one's interest to the highest possible pitch before price is mentioned at all. many solicitors consider it so essential to keep the price in the background until near the end of the canvass that they artfully dodge the question, "what is the cost?", until they think the prospect is sufficiently interested not to "shy" when the figure is mentioned. a letter from a company seeking to interest agents starts out awkwardly with a long paragraph: "we will be pleased to have you act as our salesman. we need a representative in your city. we know you will make a success." * * * * * then follows a second paragraph giving the selling price of a "complete outfit" although there has not been a line in the letter to warm up the reader, to interest him in the proposition, to point out how he can make money and show him where he will benefit by handling this particular line. after this poor beginning the letter goes on with its explanation and argument, but the message is lost--a message that might have borne fruit had the writer repressed his own selfish motives and pointed out how the reader would gain. there is then plenty of time to refer to the cost of the outfit. a letter from a manufacturing concern selling direct to the consumer starts out in this kill-interest fashion: "did you get our circular describing the merits of our celebrated wonderdown mattresses which cost, full size, $ each?" * * * * * an experienced correspondent would never commit such a blunder for he would not bring in the price until near the end of the letter; or, more likely, the dollar mark would not appear in the letter at all. it would be shown only in an enclosure--folder, circular, catalogue or price list. so important is this point that many schemes have been devised for keeping the cost in the back-ground and this is one of the principal reasons why many concerns are emphasizing more and more the free trial and selling on instalments. one manufacturing company makes a talking point out of the fact that the only condition on which it will sell a machine is to put it in a plant for a sixty-day trial; then if it is found satisfactory the purchaser has his option of different methods of payments: a discount for all cash or monthly instalments. there are many propositions successfully handled by gradually working up interest to the point where price can be brought in, then leading quickly to the inducement and the clincher. in such a letter the price could not be ignored very well and the effect is lost unless it is brought in at the proper place, directly following the argument. like all rules, there are exceptions to this. sometimes where the reader is familiar with the proposition it may be a good policy to catch his attention by a special price offer at the very beginning of the letter. this is frequently done in follow-up letters where it is reasonably certain that the preceding correspondence has practically exhausted explanation, description and arguments. the problem here is different and a special price may be the strongest talking point. then, of course, there are letters that are intended merely to arouse the interest of the reader and induce him to write for prices and further information. the purpose here is to stimulate the interest and induce the recipient to send in particulars regarding his needs and ask for terms. after a man's interest has been this far stimulated it is comparatively easy to quote prices without frightening him away. but in the majority of sales letters an offer must be made, for price, after all, is the one thing that is, to the reader, of first importance. most men want to know all about a proposition without the bother of further correspondence and so a specific offer should usually follow the arguments. how to bring the _letter_ to a close part ii--how to write the letter--chapter getting attention, _explaining a proposition and presenting arguments and proofs are essentials in every letter, but they merely lead up to the vital part_--getting action. _they must be closely followed by_ persuasion, inducement _and a_ clincher. _the well written letter works up to a climax and the order should be secured while interest is at its height. many correspondents stumble when they come to the close. this chapter shows how to make a get-away-- how to hook the order, or if the order is not secured--how to leave the way open to come back with a follow-up_ * * * * * nothing will take the place of arguments and logical reasons in selling an article or a service. but most salesmen will bear out the statement that few orders would be taken unless persuasion and inducement are brought into play to get the prospect's name onto the dotted line. persuasion alone sells few goods outside of the church fair but it helps out the arguments and proofs. the collector's troubles come mainly from sales that are made by persuasion, for the majority of men who are convinced by sound arguments and logical reasons to purchase a machine or a line of goods carry out their part of the bargain if they can. there are a good many correspondents who are clever enough in presenting their proposition, but display a most limited knowledge of human nature in using persuasions that rubs the prospect the wrong way. "why will you let a few dollars stand between you and success? why waste your time, wearing yourself out working for others? why don't you throw off the conditions which bind you down to a small income? why don't you shake off the shackles? why don't you rise to the opportunity that is now presented to you?" * * * * * such a letter is an insult to anyone who receives it, for it really tells him that he is a "mutt" and does not know it. compare the preceding paragraph with this forceful appeal: "remember, the men now in positions you covet did not tumble into them by accident. at one time they had nothing more to guide them than an opportunity exactly like this one. someone pointed out to them the possibilities and they took the chance and gradually attained their present success. have you the courage to make the start, grasp an opportunity, work out your destiny in this same way?" * * * * * this is persuasion by pointing out what others have done. it is the persuasion of example; an appeal that is dignified and inspirational. and here, as in all other parts of the letter, there is the tendency to make the appeal from the selfish standpoint--the profits that will accrue to the writer: "we strongly advise that you get a piece of this land at once. it is bound to increase in value. you can't lose. won't you cast your lot with us now? it is your last opportunity to get a piece of this valuable land at this extremely low price. take our word for it and make your decision now before it is too late." * * * * * a manufacturer of folding machines got away from this attitude and cleverly combined persuasion and inducement in an offer made to newspaper publishers during the month of october: "you want to try this folder thoroughly before you buy it and no better test can be given than during the holiday season when heavy advertising necessitates large editions. now, if you will put in one of these folders right away and use it every week, we will extend our usual sixty-day terms to january th. this will enable you to test it out thoroughly and, furthermore, you will not have to make the first payment until you have opportunity to make collections for the december advertising. this proposition must be accepted before oct. st." * * * * * such an inducement is timely and doubly effective on this account. the appeal reaches the newspaper man at the season of the year when he is busiest; just the time when he most needs a folder, and the manufacturer provides for the first payment at the time of year when the average publisher has the largest bank account. occasionally the most effective persuasion is a ginger talk, a regular "come on, boys," letter that furnishes the dynamic force necessary to get some men started: "there is no better time to start in this business than right now. people always spend money freely just before the holidays--get in the game and get your share of this loose coin. remember, we ship the day the order comes in. send us your order this afternoon and the goods will be at your door day after tomorrow. you can have several hundred dollars in the bank by this time next week. why not? all you need to do is to make the decision now. "unless you are blind or pretty well crippled up, you needn't expect that people will come around and drop good money into your hat. but they will loosen up if you go out after them with a good proposition such as this--and provided you get to them before the other fellow. the whole thing is to get started. get in motion! get busy! if you don't want to take time to write, telegraph at our expense. it doesn't make much difference how you start, the thing is to start. are you with us?" * * * * * now, there really is nothing in these two paragraphs except a little ginger, and a good deal of slang, but this may prove the most effective stimulant to a man's energy, the kind of persuasion to get him in motion. one thing to be constantly guarded against is exaggeration--"laying it on too thick." concerns selling goods on the instalment basis through agents who are paid on commission, find their hardest problem is to collect money where the proposition was painted in too glowing colors. the representative, thinking only of his commission on the sale, puts the proposition too strong, makes the inducement so alluring that the goods do not measure up to the salesman's claims. then the correspondent should be careful not to put the inducement so strong that it will attract out of curiosity rather than out of actual intent. many clever advertisements pull a large number of inquiries but few sales are made. it is a waste of time and money to use an inducement that does not stimulate an actual interest. many a mailing list is choked with deadwood--names that represent curiosity seekers and the company loses on both hands, for it costs money to get those names on the list and it costs more money to get them off the list. the correspondent should never attempt to persuade a man by assuming an injured attitude. because a man answers an advertisement or writes for information, does not put him under the slightest obligation to purchase the goods and he cannot be shamed into parting with his money by such a paragraph as this: "do you think you have treated us fairly in not replying to our letters? we have written to you time and again just as courteously as we know how; we have asked you to let us know whether or not you are interested; we have tried to be perfectly fair and square with you; and yet you have not done us the common courtesy of replying. do you think this is treating us just right? don't you think you ought to write us, and if you are not intending to buy, to let us know the reason?" * * * * * if the recipient reads that far down into his letter, it will only serve to make him mad. no matter what inducement the company may make him later, it is not probable that it can overcome the prejudice that such an insulting paragraph will have created. some of the correspondence schools understand how to work in persuasion cleverly and effectively. here is a paragraph that is dignified and persuasive: "remember also that this is the best time of the entire year to get good positions, as wholesalers and manufacturers all over the country will put on thousands of new men for the coming season. we are receiving inquiries right along from the best firms in the country who ask us to provide them with competent salesmen. we have supplied them with so many good men that they always look to us when additional help is required, and just now the demand is so great that we can guarantee you a position if you start the course this month." * * * * * persuasion plays a small part in selling general commodities, such as machinery, equipment, supplies, and the articles of every-day business, but correspondence courses, insurance, banking, building and loan propositions and various investment schemes can be pushed and developed by an intelligent use of this appeal. merged with the persuasion or closely following it should be some inducement to move the reader to "buy now." description, explanation, argument and even persuasion are not enough to get the order. a specific inducement is necessary. there are many things that we intend to buy sometime, articles in which we have become interested, but letters about them have been tucked away in a pigeon-hole until we have more time. it is likely that everyone of those letters would have been answered had they contained specific inducements that convinced us it would be a mistake to delay. in some form or another, gain is the essence of all inducements, for gain is the dynamic force to all our business movements. the most familiar form of inducement is the special price, or special terms that are good if "accepted within ten days." the inducement of free trial and free samples are becoming more widely used every day. the most effective letters are those that work in the inducement so artfully that the reader feels he is missing something if he does not answer. the skillful correspondent does not tell him bluntly that he will miss the opportunity of a life time if he does not accept a proposition; he merely suggests it in a way that makes a much more powerful impression. here is the way a correspondence school uses inducements in letters to prospective students in its mechanical drawing course. after telling the prospect about the purchase of a number of drawing outfits it follows with this paragraph: "it was necessary to place this large order in order to secure the sets at the lowest possible figure. knowing that this number will exceed our weekly sales, we have decided to offer these extra sets to some of the ambitious young men who have been writing to us. if you will fill out the enclosed scholarship blank and mail at once we will send you one of these handsome sets free, express prepaid. but this offer must be accepted before the last of the month. at the rate the scholarship blanks are now coming in, it is more than likely that the available sets will be exhausted before november st. it is necessary therefore that you send us your application at once." * * * * * it is not necessary to offer something for nothing in your inducement. in fact, a good reason is usually a better order getter than a good premium. make the man want your proposition--that is the secret of the good sales letter. if a man really wants your product he is going to get it sooner or later, and the selling letters that score the biggest results are those that create desire; following argument and reason with an inducement that persuades a man to part with his hard-earned money and buy your goods. it is a never-ending surprise--the number of correspondents who cleverly attract the interest of a reader, present their proposition forcibly and convincingly, following with arguments and inducements that persuade him to buy, and then, just as he is ready to reach for his check book, turn heel and leave him with the assurance that they will be pleased to give him further information when they could have had his order by laying the contract before him and saying, "sign here." there are plenty of good starters who are poor finishers. they get attention but don't get the order. they are winded at the finish; they stumble at the climax where they should be strongest, and the interest which they worked so hard to stimulate oozes away. they fail because they do not know how to close. as you hope for results, do not overlook the summary and the climax. do not forget to insert a hook that will land the order. time, energy and money are alike wasted in creating desire if you fail to crystallize it in action. steer your letter away from the hold-over file as dexterously as you steer it away from the waste basket. it is not enough to make your prospect want to order, you must make it easy for him to order by enclosing order blanks, return envelopes, instructions and other "literature" that will strengthen your arguments and whet his desire; and more than that, you must reach a real climax in your letters--tell the prospect what to do and how to do it. the climax is not a part distinct from the parts that have gone before. persuasion and inducement are but elements of the climax, working the prospect up to the point where you can insert a paragraph telling him to "sign and mail today." how foolish to work up the interest and then let the reader down with such a paragraph as this: "thanking you for your inquiry and hoping to be favored with your order, and assuring you it will be fully appreciated and receive our careful attention, we are." * * * * * such a paragraph pulls few orders. compare the foregoing with the one that fairly galvanizes the reader into immediate action: "send us a $ . bill now. if you are not convinced that this file is the best $ . investment ever made, we will refund your money for the mere asking. send today, while you have it in mind." * * * * * here is a paragraph not unlike the close of dozens of letters that you read every week: "trusting that we may hear from you in the near future and hoping we will have the pleasure of numbering you among our customers, we are," * * * * * such a close invites delay in answering. it is an order killer; it smothers interest, it delays action. but here is a close that is likely to bring the order if the desire has been created. "simply wrap a $ . bill in this letter and send to us at our risk." * * * * * a writer who does not understand the psychology of suggestion writes this unfortunate closing paragraph: "will you not advise us at an early date whether or not you are interested in our proposition? as you have not replied to our previous letters, we begin to fear that you do not intend to avail yourself of this wonderful opportunity, and we would be very glad to have you write us if this is a fact." * * * * * how foolish to help along one's indifference by the suggestion that he is not interested. just as long as you spend postage on a prospect treat him as a probable customer. assume that he is interested; take it for granted that there is some reason why he has not replied and present new arguments, new persuasion, new inducements for ordering now. a firm handling a line very similar to that of the firm which sent out the letter quoted above, always maintains the attitude that the prospect is going to order some time and its close fairly bristles with "do it now" hooks: "step right over to the telegraph office and send us your order by telegraph at our expense. with this business, every day's delay means loss of dollars to you. stop the leak! save the dollars! order today!" * * * * * another unfortunate ending is a groveling servility in which the writer comes on his knees, as it were, begging for the privilege of presenting his proposition again at some future time. here are the two last paragraphs of a three-paragraph letter sent out by an engraving company--an old established, substantial concern that has no reason to apologize for soliciting business, no reason for meeting other concerns on any basis except that of equality: "should you not be in the market at the present time for anything in our line of work, we would esteem it a great favor to us if you would file this letter and let us hear from you when needing anything in the way of engraving. if you will let us know when you are ready for something in this line we will deem it a privilege to send a representative to call on you. "trusting we have not made ourselves forward in this matter and hoping that we may hear from you, we are," * * * * * it is a safe prediction that this letter was written by a new sales manager who will soon be looking for another job. such an apologetic note, with such a lack of selling talk, such a street beggar attitude could never escape the waste basket. the salesman who starts out by saying, "you wouldn't be interested in this book, would you?" takes no orders. the letter that comes apologizing and excusing itself before it gets our attention, and, if it gets our attention, then lets down just as we are ready to sign an order, is headed straight for the car wheel plant. avoid in the closing paragraph, as far as possible, the participial phrases such as "thanking you," "hoping to be favored," "assuring you of our desire," and so forth. say instead, "we thank you," "it is a pleasure to assure you," or "may i not hear from you by return mail?" such a paragraph is almost inevitably an anti-climax; it affords too much of a let-down to the proposition. one of the essentials to the clinching of an order is the enclosures such as order blanks and return envelopes--subjects that are sufficiently important to call for separate chapters. the essential thing to remember in working up to the climax is to make it a climax; to keep up the reader's interest, to insert a hook that will get the man's order before his desire has time to cool off. your proposition is not a fireless cooker that will keep his interest warm for a long time after the heat of your letter has been removed--and it will be just that much harder to warm him up the second time. insert the hook that will get the order now, for there will never be quite such a favorable time again. "style" in letter writing-- and how to _acquire it_ part iii--style--making the letter readable--chapter specific statements _and_ concrete facts _are the substance of a business letter. but whether that letter is read or not, or whether those statements and facts are_ forceful _and_ effective, _is dependent upon the manner in which they are presented to the reader--upon the "style." what "style" is, and how it may be acquired and put to practical use in business correspondence, is described in this chapter_ * * * * * letter writing is a craft--selecting and arranging words in sentences to convey a thought clearly and concisely. while letters take the place of spoken language, they lack the animation and the personal magnetism of the speaker--a handicap that must be overcome by finding words and arranging them in sentences in such a way that they will attract attention quickly, explain a proposition fully, make a distinct impression upon the reader and move him to reply. out of the millions of messages that daily choke the mails, only a small per cent rise above the dead level of colorless, anemic correspondence. the great majority of business letters are not forcible; they are not productive. they have no style. the meat is served without a dressing. the letters bulge with solid facts, stale statements and indigestible arguments--the relishes are lacking. either the writers do not realize that effectiveness comes only with an attractive style or they do not know how a crisp and invigorating style can be cultivated. style has nothing to do with the subject matter of a letter. its only concern is in the language used--in the words and sentences which describe, explain and persuade, and there is no subject so commonplace, no proposition so prosaic that the letter cannot be made readable and interesting when a stylist takes up his pen. in choosing words the average writer looks at them instead of into them, and just as there are messages between the lines of a letter, just so are there half-revealed, half-suggested thoughts between the letters of words--the suggestiveness to which hawthorne referred as "the unaccountable spell that lurks in a syllable." there is character and personality in words, and shakespeare left a message to twentieth-century correspondents when he advised them to "find the eager words--faint words--tired words--weak words--strong words--sick words--successful words." the ten-talent business writer is the man who knows these words, recognizes their possibilities and their limitations and chooses them with the skill of an artist in mixing the colors for his canvas. to be clear, to be forceful, to be attractive--these are the essentials of style. to secure these elements, the writer must make use of carefully selected words and apt figures of speech. neglect them and a letter is lost in the mass; its identity is lacking, it fails to grip attention or carry home the idea one wishes to convey. an insipid style, is responsible for much of the ineffectiveness in business letters. few men will take the time to decipher a proposition that is obscured by ambiguous words and involved phrases. unless it is obviously to a man's advantage to read such a letter it is dropped into the waste basket, taking with it the message that might have found an interested prospect if it had been expressed clearly, logically, forcibly. the first essential for style is clearness--make your meaning plain. look to the individual words; use them in the simplest way-- distinctive words to give exactness of meaning and familiar words to give strength. words are the private soldiers under the command of the writer and for ease of management he wants small words--a long word is out of place, unwieldy, awkward. the "high-sounding" words that are dragged in by main force for the sake of effect weigh down the letter, make it logy. the reader may be impressed by the language but not by the thought. he reads the words and misses the message. avoid long, unfamiliar words. clothe your thoughts in words that no one can mistake--the kind of language that men use in the office and on the street. do not make the reader work to see your point; he is busy, he has other things to do--it is your proposition and it is to your interest to put in that extra work, those additional minutes that will make the letter easily understood. it is too much to expect the reader to exert himself to dig out _your_ meaning and then enthuse himself over _your_ proposition. the men who write pulling letters weigh carefully every sentence, not only pruning away every unessential word but using words of anglo-saxon origin wherever possible rather than words of latin derivation. "indicate your selection" was written as the catch line for a letter in an important selling campaign, but the head correspondent with unerring decision re-wrote it--"take your choice"--a simpler, stronger statement. the meaning goes straight to the reader's mind without an effort on his part. "we are unable to discern" started out the new correspondent in answering a complaint. "we cannot see" was the revision written in by the master correspondent--short, concise, to the point. "with your kind permission i should like to say in reply to your favor"--such expressions are found in letters every day--thousands of them. the reader is tired before the subject matter is reached. the correspondent who is thinking about the one to whom he is writing starts out briefly and to the point by saying, "this is in reply to your letter," or, "thank you for calling our attention to, and so forth." the reader is impressed that the writer means business. the attitude is not antagonistic; it commands attention. letters are unnaturally burdened with long words and stilted phrases, while in conversation one's thoughts seek expression through lines of least resistance--familiar words and short sentences. but in writing, these same thoughts go stumbling over long words and groping through involved phrases. proverbs are sentences that have lived because they express a thought briefly in short, familiar words. slang becomes popular because of the wealth of meaning expressed in a few words, and many of these sayings gradually work their way into respectability-- reluctantly admitted into the sanctuary of "literature" because of their strength, clearness, adaptability. while short words are necessary for force and vigor, it may be very desirable at times to use longer and less familiar words to bring out the finer shade of meaning. a subtle distinction cannot be ignored simply because one word is shorter than another. "donate" and "give" are frequently used as synonyms, but "give" should not be used because it is a short word when "donate" expresses the meaning more accurately. as a usual thing, "home" is preferable to "residence," but there are times when the longer word should be used. "declare" and "state," "thoroughfare" and "street"--there are thousands of illustrations on this point, and while the short, anglo-saxon word is always preferable, it should not be used when a longer word expresses more accurately the thought which the writer wishes to convey. many letter writers think that these rules are all right for college professors, journalists and authors, but impractical for the every-day business correspondent. some of the most successful companies in the country, however, have recognized the importance of these very points and have adopted strict rules that give strength and character to the letters that are sent out. for example, here is a paragraph taken from the book of instructions issued by a large manufacturing concern in the middle west: "don't use a long or big word where a short one will do as well or better. for example: 'begin' is better than 'commence'; 'home' or 'house' better than 'residence'; 'buy' better than 'purchase'; 'live' better than 'reside'; 'at once' better than 'immediately'; 'give' better than 'donate'; 'start' or 'begin' better than 'inaugurate.'" the selection of words is not the only thing that the writer must consider. the placing of words to secure emphasis is no less important. the strength of a statement may depend upon the adroitness with which the words are used. "not only to do one thing _well_ but to do that one thing _best_--this has been our aim and our accomplishment." in this sentence, taken from a letter, emphasis is laid upon the word "best" by its position. the manufacturer has two strong arguments to use on the dealer; one is the quality of the goods--so they will give satisfaction to the customer--and the other is the appearance of the goods so they will attract the customer. this is the sentence used by a clever writer: "we _charge_ you for the service quality--we _give_ you the appearance quality." the strength comes from the construction of the sentence throwing emphasis on "charge" and "give." "durability--that is our talking point. other machines are cheaper if you consider only initial cost; no other machine is more economical when its durability, its length of service is considered." here the unusual position of the word "durability," thrown at the beginning of the sentence, gives an emphasis that could not be obtained in any other way. and so the stylist considers not only the words he uses but he places them in the most strategic position in the sentence--the beginning. in the building of a climax this order of words is reversed since the purpose is to work up from the weakest to the strongest word or phrase. the description, "sweet, pure and sanitary," gives emphasis to the sanitary feature because it comes last and lingers longest in the mind. after the study of words, their meaning and position, the writer must look to completed sentences, and the man who succeeds in selling goods by mail recognizes first of all the force of concise statements. "you can pay more but you can't buy more." this statement strikes home with the force of a blow. "we couldn't improve the powder so we improved the box." there is nothing but assertion in this sentence, but it carries conviction. not a word is out of place. every word does duty. the idea is expressed concisely, forcibly. the simplicity of the sentence is more effective than pages of prosaic argument. here is a sentence taken from a letter of a correspondence school: "assuming that you are in search of valuable information that may increase your earning capacity by a more complete knowledge of any subject in which you may be interested, we desire to state most emphatically that your wages increase with your intelligence." this is not only ungrammatical, it is uninteresting. contrast it with the sentence taken from a letter from another correspondence school: "you earn more as you learn more." it is short, emphatic, thought producing. the idea is clearly etched into your mind. short sentences are plain and forceful, but when used exclusively, they become tiresome and monotonous. a short sentence is frequently most striking when preceding or following a long sentence--it gives variation of style. following a long sentence it comes as a quick, trip-hammer blow that is always effective. and there are times when the proposition cannot be brought out clearly by short sentences. then the long sentence comes to the rescue for it permits of comparisons and climaxes that short sentences cannot give. [illustration: _unique enclosures catch the eye and insure a reading of the letter. here are shown two facsimile bonds--one, an investment bond and the other a guarantee bond; a sample of the diploma issued by a correspondence school and a $ . certificate to apply on a course. the axe-blade booklet carries the message of a wholesale hardware house, and the coupon, when filled out, calls for a free sample of toilet preparation_.] [illustration: _neither printed descriptions nor pictures are as effective as actual samples of the product advertised. here are shown different methods of sending samples of dress goods, shirtings and cloth for other purposes. at the right are some pieces of wood showing different varnishes and wall decorations, and at the bottom are veneers that show different furniture finishes; the various colored pieces of leather are likewise used by furniture houses in showing the styles of upholstering_.] it is the long, rambling sentences that topple a letter over onto the waste basket toboggan. but the sentence with a climax, working up interest step by step, is indispensable. by eye test, by mechanical test, by erasure test and by strength test, orchard hill bond makes good its reputation as the best bond on the market for commercial use. there is nothing tiresome about such a sentence. there is no difficulty in following the writer's thought. * * * * * the letter the vehicle words short saxon specific individual phrases vivid natural figures idioms sentences clear forceful climatic polished paragraphs short uniform logical orderly the load ideas graphic technical clear complete statements facts proofs references testimony explanations specific technical clear complete arguments logical climatic conclusive convincing _there are two elements in every letter: the thought and the language in which that thought is expressed. the words, phrases, sentences and paragraphs are the vehicle which carries the load--explanations, arguments, appeal. neither can be neglected if the letter is to pull_ * * * * * here is another sentence showing the force to be attained through the use of a long sentence: "just as the physician may read medicine, just as the lawyer may read law, just so may a man now read business--the science of the game which enables some men to succeed where hosts of others fail; it is no longer enveloped in mystery and in darkness." there is no danger of the reader's becoming confused in the meaning and he is more deeply impressed because his interest has been gained by the gradual unfolding of the idea back of the sentence, the leading up to the important thought. and after the choice of words, the placing of words and the construction of a sentence comes that other essential element of style--the use of figures of speech, the illustrating of one's thought by some apt allusion. comparison adds force by giving the reader a mental picture of the unknown, by suggestions of similarity to familiar things. the language of the street, our conversational language, secures its color and expressiveness through figures of speech--the clever simile and the apt metaphor light up a sentence and lift it out of the commonplace. "don't hold yourself down," "don't be bottled up," "don't keep your nose on the grindstone"--these are the forceful figures used in the letters of a correspondence school. the most ignorant boy knows that the writer did not mean to be taken literally. such figures are great factors in business letters because they make the meaning clear. here is the attention-getting first sentence of another letter: "don't lull yourself to sleep with the talk that well enough should be let alone when practical salary-raising, profit-boosting help is within your reach." the sentence is made up of figures; you do not literally lull yourself to sleep with talk, you don't really boost profits, you don't actually reach out and grasp the help the letter offers. the figures merely suggest ideas, but they are vivid. a sales manager writes to the boys on the road regarding a contest or a spurt for records: "come on, boys. this is the last turn round the track. the track was heavy at the start but if none of you break on the home stretch you are bound to come under the wire with a good record." the salesman will read this sort of a letter and be inspired by its enthusiasm, when the letter would be given no more than a hurried glance if it said what it really means: "get busy! keep on the job! send in more orders." by framing your ideas in artistic figures of speech you bring out their colors, their lines, their fullest meanings--and more than that, you know your letters will be read. but in the attempt to add grace and attractiveness by some familiar allusion, one must not overlook the importance of facts--cold, plainly stated facts, which are often the shortest, most convincing argument. in the letter of an advertising concern is this plain statement: "last year our business was $ , , ahead of the year before." no figure of speech, no touch of the stylist could make such a profound impression as this brief, concise statement of fact. the average correspondent will agree that these are all essential elements of style--his problem is practical: how can he find the right words; how can he learn to put his proposition more clearly; how think up figures of speech that will light up the thought or illustrate the proportion. to some men an original style and the ability to write convincingly is a birthright. others have to depend less on inspiration and more on hard work. one man carries a note book in which he jots down, for future use, phrases, words and comparisons that he comes across while reading his morning paper on the way down town, while going through his correspondence, while listening to callers, while talking with friends at lunch, while attending some social affair--wherever he is, his eyes and ears are always alert to catch a good phrase, an unusual expression or a new figure of speech. at his first opportunity a notation is made in the ever-handy memorandum book. another man systematically reads articles by elbert hubbard, alfred henry lewis, samuel blythe and other writers whose trenchant pens replenish his storage with similes, metaphors and crisp expressions. the head of a mail-order sales department of a large publishing house keeps a scrapbook in which he pastes words, phrases, striking sentences and comparisons clipped from letters, advertisements, booklets, circulars, and other printed matter. each month he scans the advertisements in a dozen magazines and with a blue pencil checks every expression that he thinks may some time be available or offer a suggestion. it is but a few minutes' work for a girl to clip and paste in these passages and his scrapbooks are an inexhaustible mine of ideas and suggestions. another man, after outlining his ideas, dictates a letter and then goes over it sentence by sentence and word by word. with a dictionary and book of synonyms he tries to strengthen each word; he rearranges the words, writes and rewrites the sentences, eliminating some, reinforcing others and devising new ones until he has developed his idea with the precision of an artist at work on a drawing. the average correspondent, handling a large number of letters daily, has little time to develop ideas for each letter in this way, but by keeping before him a list of new words and phrases and figures of speech, they soon become a part of his stock in trade. then there are other letters to write--big selling letters that are to be sent out by the thousands and letters that answer serious complaints, letters that call for diplomacy, tact, and above all, clearness and force. on these important letters the correspondent can well afford to spend time and thought and labor. a day or several days may be devoted to one letter, but the thoughts that are turned over--the ideas that are considered, the sentences that are written and discarded, the figures that are tried out--are not wasted, but are available for future use; and by this process the writer's style is strengthened. he acquires clearness, force, simplicity and attractiveness--the elements that will insure the reading of his letters. and one thing that every correspondent can do is to send to the scrap-heap all the shelf-worn words and hand-me-down expressions such as, "we beg to acknowledge," "we beg to state;" "replying to your esteemed favor;" "the same;" "the aforesaid;" "we take great pleasure in acknowledging," and so on. they are old, wind-broken, incapable of carrying a big message. and the participial phrases should be eliminated, such as: "hoping to hear from you;" "trusting we will be favored;" "awaiting your reply," and so on, at the close of the letter. say instead, "i hope to hear from you;" or, "i trust we will receive your order;" or, "may we not hear from you?" interest the man quickly; put snap and sparkle in your letters. give him clear and concise statements or use similes and metaphors in your sentences--figures of speech that will turn a spot-light on your thoughts. pick out your words and put them into their places with the infinite care of a craftsman, but do not become artificial. use every-day, hard-working words and familiar illustrations that have the strength to carry your message without stumbling before they reach their goal. making the letter hang together part iii--style--making the letter readable--chapter _the letter writer looks to words, phrases and sentences to make the little impressions on the reader as he goes along. the letter as a whole also has to make a_ single impression--_clear-cut and unmistakable. the correspondent must use this combination shot-gun and rifle. to get this single rifle-shot effect a letter has to contain those elements of style that_ hold it together; _there must be a definite idea behind the letter; the message must have a unity of thought; it must be logically presented; it must have a continuity that carries the reader along without a break, and a climax that works him up and closes at the height of his enthusiasm_ * * * * * thinking is not easy for anyone. and it is too much to expect the average business man to analyze a proposition in which he is not interested. his thoughts tend to move in the course of least resistance. if you want him to buy your goods or pay your bill or hire you, present your arguments in a way that will require no great mental exertion on his part to follow you. a single idea behind the letter is the first requisite for giving it the hang-together quality and the punch that gets results. the idea cannot be conveyed to the reader unless it is presented logically. he won't get a single general impression from what you are saying to him unless there is unity of thought in the composition. he cannot follow the argument unless it has continuity; sequence of thought. and, finally no logic or style will work him up to enthusiasm unless it ends with a strong climax. these five principles--the idea behind, logic, unity of thought, continuity, climax--are the forces that holds the letter together and that gives it momentum. because these principles are laid down in text books does not mean that they are arbitrary rules or academic theories. they are based on the actual experiences of men ever since they began to talk and write. essay or sermon; oration or treatise; advertisement or letter; all forms of communication most easily accomplish their purpose of bringing the other man around to your way of thinking, if these proved principles of writing are followed. merely observing them will not necessarily make a letter pull, but violating them is certain to weaken it. you cannot hit a target with a rifle unless you have one shot in the barrel. the idea behind the letter is the bullet in the gun. to hit your prospect you must have a message--a single, definite, clearly-put message. that is the idea behind the letter. look at the letter on page . it gets nowhere. because the writer did not have this clear, definite idea of what he wanted to impress upon his prospect. not one reader in ten would have the shallowest dent made in his attention by this letter, as he would have had if the writer had started out, for instance, with one idea of impressing upon the reader the facilities of his establishment and the large number of satisfied customers for whom it does work. with this dominant idea in mind, a correspondent has got to explain it and argue it so logically that the reader is convinced. here is a letter from a manufacturer of gasoline engines: dear sir: i understand you are in the market for a gasoline engine and as ours is the most reliable engine made we want to call your attention to it. it has every modern improvement and we sell it on easy terms. the inventor of this machine is in personal charge of our factory and he is constantly making little improvements. he will tell you just what kind of an engine you need and we will be glad to quote you prices if you will call on us or write us, telling us what you need. hoping to hear from you, we are, yours truly, [signature: the madewell engine co.] * * * * * the letter is illogical, disjointed and lacking in that dominant idea that carries conviction. yet the writer had material at hand for a strong, logical selling letter. to have interested the prospect he should have told something specific about his engine. here is the letter, rewritten with due regard to the demands of unity, sequence, logic and climax: dear sir: a friend told me yesterday that you want a gas engine for irrigating, so i am sending you bulletin "b." do you notice that all its parts are in plain view and easy to get at? mr. wilbur, who invented this engine, had a good many years of practical experience installing gasoline engines before he started to manufacture his own, and he knows what it means to tighten up a nut or some other part without having to send to the factory for a special man with a special wrench to do the work. sparkers sometimes get gummed up. to take the wilbur sparker out you simply remove two nuts and out comes the sparker complete, and you cannot get it back the wrong way. it isn't much of a job to wipe the point off with a rag, is it? and the governor! just the same type of throttling governor that is used on the highest grade of steam engine, allowing you to speed her up or slow her down while the engine is running. that's mighty handy. few engines are built like this. it costs a good deal of extra money but it does give a lot of extra satisfaction. nothing shoddy about the equipment described in the bulletin, is there? no. we don't make these supplies ourselves, but we do watch out and see that the other fellow gives us the best in the market because we guarantee it. this sounds very nice on paper, you think. well, we have over four thousand customers in kansas. mr. w. o. clifford, who lives not so far from you, has used a wilbur for three years. ask him what he has to say about it. then you will want to know just what such an engine will cost you, and you will be tickled to death when you know how much money we can really save you. i don't mean that we will furnish you with a cheap machine at a high price, but a really high-grade machine at a low price. i await with much interest your reply telling us what you want. very truly yours, [signature: l. w. hamilton] * * * * * the commonest cause of a lack of punch in a letter is the temptation to get away from the main idea--unity of thought. this is what a mail-order house writes: "this is the largest catalogue of the kind ever issued, it will pay you to deal with our house. every machine is put together by hand and tested, and we will ship the day your order is received. "an examination of the catalogue will prove our claim that we carry the largest stock of goods in our line. should our goods appeal to you, we shall be glad to add you to our list of customers." * * * * * there is neither unity nor logic in a letter like this, although there is the suggestion of several good ideas. the fact that the house issues the largest catalogue of its kind might be so explained to me that it would convince me that here is the place i ought to buy. or, the fact that every machine is tested and put together by hand, if followed to a logical conclusion, would prove to me that i could rely on the quality of these goods. but when the writer doesn't stick to one subject for more than half a sentence, my attention will not cling to it and my mind is not convinced by a mere statement without proof. unity does not necessarily mean that the whole letter must be devoted to one point. a paragraph and even a sentence must have this quality of unity as much as the entire letter. and the paragraphs, each unified in itself, may bring out one point after another that will still allow the letter to retain its hang-together. in the letter quoted, not even the individual sentence retained unity. this writer might have presented all his points and maintained the unity of his letter, had he brought out and simplified one point in each paragraph: first: the size of the catalogue as an indication of the large stock carried by the house and the convenience afforded in buying. second: the quality of the machines; the care exercised in their assembling; the guarantee of the test, and the assurance that this gives the far-away purchaser. third: promptness in filling orders; what this means to the buyer and how the house is organized to give service. fourth: the desire to enroll new customers; not based solely on the selfish desires of the house, but on the idea that the more customers they can get, the bigger the business will grow, which will result in better facilities for the house and better service for each customer. and now, giving a unified paragraph to each of the ideas, not eliminating subordinate thoughts entirely, but keeping them subordinate and making them illuminate the central thought--would build up a unified, logical letter. in the arrangement of these successive ideas and paragraphs, the third element in the form is illustrated--continuity of thought. put a jog or a jar in the path of your letter and you take the chance of breaking the reader's attention. that is fatal. so write a letter that the reader will easily and, therefore, unconsciously and almost perforce, follow from the first word to the last--then your message reaches him. how to secure this continuity depends on the subject and on the prospect. appealing to the average man, association of thoughts furnishes the surest medium for continuity. if you lead a man from one point to another point that he has been accustomed to associating with the first point, then he will follow you without a break in his thought. from this follows the well-known principle that when you are presenting a new proposition, start your prospect's thoughts on a point that he knows, which is related to your proposition, for the transition is easiest from a known to a related unknown. an insurance company's letter furnishes a good example of continuity of ideas and the gradual increasing strength in each paragraph: "if you have had no sickness, and consequently, have never felt the humiliation of calling on strangers for sick benefits--even though it were only a temporary embarrassment--you are a fortunate man. "health is always an uncertain quantity--you have no assurance that next week or next month you will not be flat on your back--down and out as far as selling goods is concerned. and sickness not only means a loss of time but an extra expense in the way of hospital and doctor bills." * * * * * in the next paragraph the idea is further strengthened; a new thought is presented with additional force: "if there is one man on earth who needs protection by insurance against sickness it is you. there are two thousand one hundred and fifty ailments covering just such diseases as you, as a traveling man, expose yourself to every day." * * * * * these are specific facts, therefore decidedly forceful. then, while interest is at its height, another paragraph presents a specific offer: "we will protect you at an extremely low annual cost. we guarantee that the rate will not exceed $ . a year--that's less than two and a half cents a day. think of it--by paying an amount so small that you will never miss it, you will secure benefits on over two thousand sicknesses--any one of which you may contract tomorrow." * * * * * here is the logical presentation of subject matter by paragraphs, leading up from an interest-getting general statement to a specific proposition. break this continuity of ideas by a space filler or an inconsequential argument and the reader loses interest that it will be hard to regain. make this the test of each paragraph: if it does not illuminate the central thought, fit into the argument at that point, or add to the interest of the reader, eliminate it or bring it into conformity with the "idea behind the letter." and there must be an actual continuity of thought from paragraph to paragraph. merely inserting a catch-word or a conjunctive does not build a logical bridge. the letter from another insurance agent might have been saved if this test had been applied, for it was well written except where the writer forgot himself long enough to insert an irrelevant paragraph about his personal interest: "we are desirous of adding your name to our roll of membership because we believe that every man should be protected by insurance and because we believe this is the best policy offered. we are endeavoring to set a new record this month and are especially anxious to get your application right away." * * * * * the continuity of thought is broken. the preceding paragraphs have been working up the reader's interest in casualty insurance by pointing out the dangers to which he is exposed, the humiliating position in which it will place him and his family to be the recipients of charity in case of sickness or accident, and so on. then the writer short-circuits the reader's interest by a paragraph of generalities which call attention to his desire for profits-- things in which the prospect is not interested. most propositions can be developed in different ways, along different angles. the problem of the correspondent is to determine upon the way that will prove easiest for the reader to follow. he may have his path smoothed for him if he understands how facts, ideas and arguments will cohere in the reader's mind. it is much easier to follow a proposition if it is developed along some definite channel; if it follows the law of continuity, the law of similarity; of association or contrast, or of cause and effect. some epigrammatic thinker once said, "when you get through, stop!" this applies to letter writing as well as to speech. but don't stop a letter on the down grade. stop after you have given your hardest punch. this is what rhetoricians call the climax. a letter constructed along these principles of style will almost inevitably have a climax. if there is an idea behind the letter, if it is carried out logically, if the letter sticks to this one idea, if the argument is carried along step by step, proceeding from the general statement to the specific, from the attention-getting first sentence to the inducement, then you are working up your reader's interest to the point where with one final application of your entire idea to his own individual case, you have accomplished your climax, just as was done in the re-written letter about gasoline engines. a letter from a firm manufacturing a duplicating machine starts out by calling attention to the difficulty the personal salesmen has in getting an audience with the busy executive. the second paragraph shows how his time and "your money" is wasted in call-backs and in bench warming while the solicitor waits for an opportunity to be heard. the third paragraph tells how over-anxious the salesman is to close a sale when a few minutes is granted--and usually fails, at least the first time. the fourth paragraph shows how this costly process of selling can be reduced by using the mails; then follow a couple of specific paragraphs telling about the advantage of the company's machine. a paragraph on the saving on five thousand circulars that would pay for the machine brings the proposition home to the reader and then, with interest at the height, the last paragraph--the climax--urges the reader to fill out a post card to secure the additional information regarding capacity, quality of work and cost. logic, unity, sequence, climax--each does its part in carrying the load. the principles of style and form in letter writing do not reach their highest pulling power as long as the correspondent handles them like strange tools. the principles must, of course, first be learned and consciously applied. but to give your letter the touch of sincerity and of spontaneity; to give it the grip that holds and the hook that pulls, these principles must become a part of yourself. they must appear in your letters, not because you have consciously put them in but because your thinking and your writing possesses them. how to make letters original part iii--style--making the letter readable--chapter _the average business letter is machine-made. it is full of time-worn phrases, hackneyed expressions and commonplace observations that fail to jolt the reader out of the rut of the conventional correspondence to which he is accustomed: consequently it does not make an impression upon him. but occasionally a letter comes along that "gets under the skin," that_ stands out _from the rest because it has "human interest;" because it is original in its statements; because it departs from the prescribed hum-drum routine; because, in short, it reflects a live, breathing human being and not a mere set of rules_ * * * * * study the letters the janitor carries out in your waste-basket-- they lack the red blood of originality. except for one here and one there they are stereotyped, conventional, long, uninteresting, tiresome. they have no individuality; they are poor representatives of an alert, magnetic personality. yet there is no legerdemain about writing a good letter; it is neither a matter of luck nor of genius. putting in the originality that will make it pull is not a secret art locked up in the mental storerooms of a few successful writers; it is purely a question of study and the application of definite principles. a lawyer is successful only in proportion to the understanding he has of the law--the study he puts on his cases; a physician's success depends upon his careful consideration of every symptom and his knowledge of the effect of every drug or treatment that he may prescribe. and it is no different with correspondents. they cannot write letters that will pulsate with a vital message unless they study their proposition in detail, visualize the individuals to whom they are writing, consider the language they use, the method of presenting their arguments, their inducements--there is no point from the salutation to the signature that is beneath consideration. you cannot write letters that pull without hard study any more than the doctor can cure his patients or the lawyer win his cases without brain work. so many letters are insipid because the correspondents do not have time or do not appreciate the necessity for taking time to consider the viewpoint of their readers or for studying out new methods of presenting their proposition. yet the same respect that would be given to a salesman may be secured for a letter. any one of four attitudes will secure this attention. first of all, there may be a personal touch and an originality of thought or expression that commands immediate attention; in the second place, one can make use of the man-to-man appeal; then there is the always-forceful, never-to-be-forgotten "you" element; and finally, there are news items which are nearly always interest-getters. by any one of these appeals, or better, by a combination of appeals, a letter can be given an individuality, a vitality, that will make it rise above the underbrush of ordinary business correspondence. to begin with, vapid words and stereotyped expressions should be eliminated, for many a good message has become mired in stagnant language. so many correspondents, looking for the easiest road to travel, fall into the rut that has been worn wide and deep by the multitudes passing that way. the trouble is not the inability of writers to acquire a good style or express themselves forcibly; the trouble is mental inertia--too little analytical thought is given to the subject matter and too little serious effort is made to find an original approach. most business letters are cold, impersonal, indifferent: "our fall catalogue which is sent to you under separate cover;" "we take pleasure in advising you that;" "we are confident that our goods will give you entire satisfaction," and so on--hackneyed expressions without end--no personality--no originality--no vitality. the correspondent who has learned how to sell goods by mail uses none of these run-down-at-the-heel expressions. he interests the reader by direct, personal statements: "here is the catalogue in which you are interested;" "satisfaction? absolute! we guarantee it. we urge you not to keep one of our suits unless it is absolutely perfect;" "how did you find that sample of tobacco?" no great mental exertion is required for such introductions, yet they have a personal touch, and while they might be used over and over again they strike the reader as being original, addressed to him personally. everyone is familiar with the conventional letter sent out by investment concerns: "in response to your inquiry, we take pleasure in sending you herewith a booklet descriptive of the white cloud investment company." cut and dried--there is nothing that jars us out of our indifference; nothing to tempt us to read the proposition that follows. here is a letter that is certain to interest the reader because it approaches him with an original idea: "you will receive a copy of the pacific coast gold book under separate cover. don't look for a literary product because that's not its purpose. its object is to give you the actual facts and specific figures in reference to the gold-mining industry." * * * * * a correspondence school that has got past the stage where it writes, "we beg to call attention to our catalogue which is mailed under separate cover," injects originality into its letter in this way: "take the booklet we have mailed you and examine the side notes on drawing for profit and art training that apply to you individually and then go back over them carefully." * * * * * the reader, even though he may have had nothing more than the most casual interest is certain to finish that letter. here is the way a paper manufacturer puts convincing argument into his letter, making it original and personal: "take the sheet of paper on which this letter is written and apply to it every test you have ever heard of for proving quality. you will find it contains not a single trace of wood pulp or fillers but is strong, tough, long-fiber linen. take your pen and write a few words on it. you will find the point glides so smoothly that writing is a pleasure. then erase a word or two and write them again--do it twice, three or four times--repeated erasures, and still you will find the ink does not blot or spread in the least. this proves the hard body and carefully prepared finish." * * * * * even if a person felt sure that this same letter went to ten-thousand other men, there would be an individuality about it, a vividness that makes the strongest kind of appeal. in a town in central indiana two merchants suffered losses from fire. a few days later, one sent out this announcement to his customers: "we beg to announce that temporary quarters have been secured at main street, where we will be glad to see you and will endeavor to handle your orders promptly." * * * * * the second firm wrote to its customers: dear mr. brown: yes, it was a bad fire but it will not cripple the business. our biggest asset is not the merchandise in the store but the good-will of our customers--something that fires cannot damage. our store does not look attractive. it won't until repairs are made and new decorations are in, but the bargains are certainly attractive--low prices to move the stock and make room for the new goods that have been ordered. everything has gone on the bargain tables; some of the goods slightly damaged by water, but many of the suits have nothing the matter with them except a little odor of smoke that will disappear in a couple of days. come in and look at these goods. see the original price mark--you can have them at just one-half the amount. very truly yours, [signature: smith and deene] * * * * * here is originality; emphasis is laid on "good will" in a way that will strengthen this "asset." the merchant put a personal element into the letter; gave it an original appeal that made it not only a clever bit of advertising, but proclaimed him a live-wire business man. here is the letter sent out by a store fixture manufacturer: "if one of your salesmen should double his sales slips tomorrow you would watch to see how he did it. if he kept up this pace you would be willing to double his wages, wouldn't you? he would double his sales if he could display all his goods to every customer. that's the very thing which the derwin display fixture does--it shows all the goods for your salesman, yet you don't have to pay him a higher salary." * * * * * a merchant cannot read this letter without stopping to think about it. the appeal strikes home. he may have read a hundred advertisements of the derwin fixture, but this reaches him because of the originality of expression, the different twist that is given to the argument. there are no hackneyed expressions, no involved phrases, no unfamiliar words, no selfish motives. and then comes the man-to-man attitude, the letter in which the writer wins the reader's confidence by talking about "you and me." a western firm handling building materials of all kinds entered the mail-order field. one cannot conceive a harder line of goods to sell by mail, but this firm has succeeded by putting this man-to-man attitude into its letters: "if you could sit at my desk for an hour--if you might listen a few minutes to the little intimate things that men and women tell me-- their hopes, their plans for the home that will protect their families--their little secret schemes to make saved-up money stretch out over the building cost; if you could hear and see these sides of our business you would understand why we give our customers more than mere quality merchandise. we plan for you and give expert advice along with the material." * * * * * there is nothing cold or distant in this letter; it does not flavor of a soulless corporation. it is intimate, it is so personal that we feel we are acquainted with the writer. we would not need an introduction--and what is more, we trust him, believe in him. make the man feel that you and he are friends. write to the average college or university for a catalogue and it will be sent promptly with a stereotyped letter: "we are pleased to comply with your request," and so forth. but a little school in central iowa makes the prospective student feel a personal interest in the school and in its officers by this letter: my dear sir: the catalogue was mailed to you this morning. we have tried to make it complete and i believe it covers every important point. but i wish you could talk with me personally for half an hour--i wish you might go over our institution with me that i might point out to you the splendid equipment, the convenient arrangement, the attractive rooms, the ideal surroundings and the homelike places for room and board. won't you drop me a line and let me know what you think about our school? tell me what courses you are interested in and let me know if i cannot be of some personal assistance to you in making your plans. i hope to see you about the middle of september when our fall term opens. very cordially yours, [signature: wallace e. lee] president. * * * * * this letter, signed by the president of the institution, is a heart-to-heart talk that induces many students to attend that school in preference to larger, better-equipped colleges. a large suit house manufacturing women's garments uses this paragraph in a letter in response to a request for a catalogue: "and now as you look through this book we wish we could be privileged to sit there with you as you turn its pages. we would like to read aloud to you every word printed on pages , and . will you turn to those pages, please? sometimes we think the story told there of the making of a suit is the most interesting thing ever written about clothes--but then, we think columbia suits are the most wonderful garments in the world." * * * * * the letter creates a feeling of intimacy, of confidence in the writer, that no formal arguments, logical reasons or special inducements could ever secure. important as these two attitudes are--the personal appeal and the man-to-man appeal--they can be strengthened manifold by making use of that other essential, the "you" element in letters. the mistake of so many writers is that they think of their interests in the transaction rather than the interests of the men to whom they are writing. it is "we" this and "we" that. yet this "we" habit is a violation of the first rule of business correspondence. "we are very desirous of receiving an order from you." of course; the reader knows that. why call his attention to so evident a fact and give emphasis to the profit that you are going to make on the deal? to get his interest, show him where _he_ will gain through this proposition--precious little he cares how anxious you are to make a sale. mr. station agent-- brother railroader: as soon as you have told the fellow at the ticket window that the noon train is due at twelve o'clock and satisfied the young lady that her telegram will be sent at once and o.s.'d the way freight and explained to the grand mogul at the other end of the wire what delayed 'em, i'd like to chat with you just a minute. it's about a book--to tell the truth, just between you and me, i don't suppose it's a bit better book than you could write yourself if you had time. i simply wrote it because i'm an old railroad man and telegrapher myself and had time to write it. the title of the book is "at finnegan's cigar store," and the hero of the fourteen little stories which the booklet contains is mr station agent. the first story in the book, "how finnegan bought himself a diamond," is worth the price of that ten-cent cigar you're smoking, and that's all the book will cost you. i know you'll like it--i liked it myself. i'm so sure of it i am enclosing a ten-cent coin card for you to use in ordering it. a dime in the card and postage stamp on the letter will bring you the book by first mail. "nuff said." " " e. n. richardson. p. s.--i am enclosing another card for your night operator, if you have one--i'd hate to have him feel that i had slighted him. * * * * * _this letter, sent out under a one-cent stamp to , agents, pulled , replies with the money. the writer did not address them individually, but he knew how to flag the interest of a station agent--by working in familiar allusions he at once found the point of contact and made the letter so personal that it pulled enormous results_ * * * * * no other appeal is so direct, so effective, as that which is summed up in the words "you," "your business," "your profits," "your welfare." "it costs you too much to sell crockery, but your selling expense can be cut down by utilizing your space to better advantage;" "your easiest profits are those you make by saving expense;" "did you ever figure up the time that is wasted in your mailing department by sealing and stamping one letter at a time?"-- these are the letters that will be read through. keep before the reader _his_ interest. show him how your proposition would benefit him. this letter was sent to lady customers by a mail-order house: dear madam: you want a dress that does not sag--that does not grow draggy and dowdy? then you want to make it of linette--the new dress goods. you have seen the beautiful new look and rich luster charm of a high-priced fabric. you can find this same quality in linette at only thirty-nine cents a yard, and then--just think--it will stay in your dress through wearing, washing and wetting, and you will be surprised to see how easily dresses made of it may be washed and ironed and what long service the material will give. very truly yours. [signature: anderson & anderson] * * * * * in this letter there is not the faintest suggestion of the profits that the writer hopes to make by the sale. a man is going to listen just as long as you talk about him; a woman will keep on reading your letter as long as you talk about her. shout "you" and whisper "_me_" and your letter will carry home, straight to the heart of the reader. a capitalized "you" is often inserted in letters to give emphasis to this attitude. here is a letter from a clothing concern: dear madam, remember this--when we make your suit we make it for you just as much as if you were here in our work roomed and, furthermore, we guarantee that it will fit you just a perfectly as if you bought it of an individual tailor. we guarantee this perfection or we will refund your money at once without question, and pay the express charges both ways. we have tried hard to make this style-book interesting and beautiful to you and full of advantage for you. your friends will ask "who made your suit?" and we want you to be proud that it is your suit and that we made it. yours very truly, [signature: adams & adams ] * * * * * and there is yet another quality that is frequently most valuable to the correspondent in making his letter personal. it is the element of news value. news interests him especially when it is information about his business, his customers, his territory, his goods, his propositions. not only does the news interest appeal to the dealer because of its practical value to him, but it impresses him by your "up-to-the-minuteness" and it gives a dynamic force to your letters. tell a man a bit of news that affects his pocket book and you have his interest. offer to save him money and he will listen to your every word, and clever correspondents in manufacturing and wholesale establishments are always on the alert to find some selling value in the news of the day. one correspondent finds in the opening of lake navigation an excuse for writing a sales letter. if the season opens unusually early he points out to the retailer just how it may affect his business, and if the season opens late he gives this fact a news value that makes it of prime interest to the dealer. a shortage of some crop, a drought, a rainy season, a strike, a revolution or industrial disturbances in some distant country--these factors may have a far-reaching effect on certain commodities, and the shrewd sales manager makes it a point to tip off the firm's customers, giving them some practical advance information that may mean many dollars to them and his letter makes the reader feel that the house has his interests at heart. another news feature may be found in some event that can be connected with the firm's product. here is the way a manufacturer of stock food hitches his argument onto a bit of news: "no doubt you have read in your farm paper about the poland china that took first prize at the iowa state fair last week. you will be interested to know that this hog was raised and fattened on johnson's stock food." * * * * * this is the way a manufacturer of window screens makes capital out of a new product: "throw away that old, rusty, stationary fly screen that you used last season. you won't need it any more because you can substitute an adjustable one in its place. "how many times when you twisted and jerked at the old stationary screen did you wish for a really convenient one? the sort of screen you wanted is one which works on rollers from top to bottom so that it will open and close as easily and conveniently as the window itself. "that's just the way the ideal screen is made. it offers those advantages. it was placed on the market only a few months ago yet it is so practical and convenient that already we have been compelled to double the capacity of our factory to handle the growing business. "all the wood work is made to harmonize with the finish of your rooms. send the measure of your window and the colors you want and get a screen absolutely free for a week's trial. if you are not perfectly satisfied at the end of that time that it's the most convenient screen you ever used, you need send no money but merely return the screen at our expense. "the ideal screen is new; it is improved; it is the screen of tomorrow. are you looking for that kind?" * * * * * the news element may have its origin in some new feature, some attachment or patent that is of interest to the prospect. a manufacturer of furniture uses this approach effectively: "the head of my designing department. mr. conrad, has just laid on my desk a wonderful design for something entirely new in a dining room table. this proposed table is so unique, so new, so different from anything ever seen before, i am having the printer strike off some rough proofs of this designer's drawing, one of which i am sending you under separate cover." * * * * * this letter is manifestly a "today" product. it wins attention because it is so up to date, and a new article may possess the interest-compelling feature that will lead to an order. then there are the letters that tell of the purchase of goods. a retailer puts news value into his letter when he writes that he has purchased the entire stock of the bankrupt brown & brown at thirty-eight cents on the dollar and that the goods are to be placed on sale the following monday morning at prices that will make it a rare sales event. this is putting into the letter news value that interests the customer. it is original because it is something that could not have been written a week before and cannot be written by anyone else. then there are other elements of news of wide interest--the opening of a new branch office, the increase of facilities by the enlargement of a factory, the perfecting of goods by some new process of manufacture or the putting on the market of some new brand or line. these things may affect the dealer in a very material way and the news value is played up in the most convincing style. the correspondent can bear down heavily on the better service that is provided or the larger line of commodities that is offered. search through the catalogue of possibilities, and there is no other talking point that it seized upon more joyfully by the correspondent, for a news item, an actual occurrence or some new development that enables him to write forceful, interest-impelling letters, for the item itself is sufficient to interest the dealer or the consumer. all that is required of the correspondent is to make the most of his opportunity, seize upon this news element and mount it in a setting of arguments and persuasion that will result in new business, more orders, greater prestige. making the _form_ letter personal part iii--style--making the letter readable--chapter _over one-half of all the form letters sent out are thrown into the waste basket unopened. a bare_ one-third _are partly read and discarded while only_ one-sixth _of them--approximately per cent--are read through. this wasteful ratio is principally due to the carelessness or ignorance of the firms that send them out-- ignorance of the little touches that make all the difference between a personal and a "form letter." yet an increase of a mere one per cent in the number of form letters that are_ read _means a difference of hundreds--perhaps thousands of dollars to the sender. this article is based on the experiences of a house that sends out over a million form letters annually_ * * * * * there are three ways by which you can deliver a message to one of your customers: you can see him personally, you can telegraph or telephone him, or you can write him a letter. after you have delivered the message you may decide you would like to deliver the same message to other customers. to see each customer personally, to telegraph or telephone each one, or to write each a personal letter, would prove slow and expensive. so you send the same letter to _all_ your customers, since you wish to tell them all the same story. but you do not laboriously write all these letters on the typewriter; instead, you print them on some kind of duplicating machine. but it is not enough to print the body of the letter and send it out, for you know from your own point of view that the average man does not give a proposition presented to him in a circular letter, the same attention he gives to it when presented by a personal appeal. and so little plans and schemes are devised to make the letter look like a personally dictated message, not for the purpose of deceiving the reader, but to make your proposition more intimate. this form of presentation is merely a means to an end; just because a letter is duplicated a thousand times does not make the proposition any the less applicable to the reader. it may touch his needs just as positively as if he were the sole recipient. the reason the letter that one knows to be simply a circular fails to grip his attention, is because it fails to get close to him--it does not _look_ personal. so, if form letters are to escape the waste basket--if they are to win the prospect's attention and convince him--they must have all the ear-marks of a personally dictated communication. if a proposition is worth sending out it is worthy of a good dress and careful handling. all the principles of making the individual letter a personal message hold good with the form letter, except that greater pains must be taken to make each letter look personal. nothing should be put into the letter to a dozen or a thousand men that does not apply to each one individually. from the mechanical standpoint, there are five parts to a letter: superscription, body of the letter, signature, enclosures and envelope. in each of these five parts there are opportunities for original touches that make letters more than mere circulars. the superscription and the way it is inserted in a form letter is the most important feature in making it personal. no semblance of a regularly dictated letter can be given unless the date, name and address are filled in, and if this is not done carefully it is far better to open your letter with "dear sir," and thus acknowledge that it is a circular. to the left, and in exact alignment with the paragraphs in the body of the letter, should appear the name and address of the reader. if this superscription appears a fraction of an inch to either side of the margin the fill-in is evident. the style of type and the shade of the typewriter ribbons used in filling-in must match with absolute accuracy. this is vital and yet the most common error in form letters is imperfect alignment and conspicuously different colors of ink. to secure an exact match between the filled-in name and address and the body of the letter, it is necessary to use ink on the duplicating machine which matches your typewriter ribbon. the ink used on the duplicating machine can be mixed to correspond with the color of the ribbons. long experience has shown that violet or purple shades of ink are best for form letters, for these colors are the easiest to duplicate. black and blue are very difficult to handle because of the great variety of undertones which are put into these inks. duplicating machines which print through a ribbon give variable shades and the typist in filling in must watch carefully to see that her typewriter ribbons match the impressions made in the body of the letter, especially where the form letters are printed several months in advance and exposed to changing conditions. in departments where the stenographers fill in only a few letters a day, a piece of a "fill-in" ribbon is attached to the end of the regular ribbon and used for this purpose. for speed and better work, typists who do nothing but fill in form letters, overlay their work--that is, before one sheet is taken out of the machine another is started in. a scheme which is slower but gives accuracy, is to work backward on the name and address, writing the "gentlemen" or "dear madam" first, beginning flush with the margin. the town or city is next written, beginning on the paragraph or established margin line and then the name and the date are filled in. guides may be secured so that all sheets will be fed into the machine at one place, thus assuring an exact margin. too much emphasis cannot be laid on the necessity of doing this fill-in work carefully, or not at all. if letters are printed by means of some duplicating machine which prints through a ribbon, care must be taken that the first run from the fresh ribbon is filled in on the typewriter with an equally fresh typewriter ribbon. later when the machine ribbon is worn, giving a lighter impression, an older ribbon is used on the typewriters. this fill-in work is difficult, and even when done properly many firms adopt all kinds of little schemes to help out the personal appearance. separating the superscription from the body of the letter so that the immediate contrast is not so great, accomplishes this purpose. one familiar scheme is to print the shipping or sales terms of the company across the letterhead so that the first paragraph comes beneath the printed matter and the filled-in superscription above. then if there is a slight difference in shades of ink it is not so apparent. the same care must, however, be taken with the alignment. mr. l. b. burtis, elm ave., ravenswood, ill., dear sir: in reply to your letter of july d i take pleasure in enclosing the free book asked for. all that i ask is that you read the book-- no longer letter is necessary. everything i could say to you in this letter about my chest is in my book. i wrote every word of it so when you read it, i wish you would take it as a personal message from me. we deliver this chest to ravenswood at the price quoted in the book. this is all i am going to say. when you have selected the chest you wish, simply check it on the enclosed post card, and mail to me. promptly upon its receipt the chest will go to you subject to your approval. i shall be looking for your post card. very truly yours, old english chest company. * * * * * new york, july , , mr. l. b. burtis, elm ave., ravenswood, ill. dear sir: i enclose with pleasure the free book you asked for in your letter of july rd. all that i ask is that you read the book--no longer letter is necessary. everything i could say to you in this letter about my chest is in my book. i wrote every word of it so when you read it, i wish you would take it as a personal message from me. tho prices quoted you in this book include freight prepaid to ravenswood. this is all i am going to say. when you have selected the chest you wish, simply check it on the enclosed post card, and mail to me. promptly upon its receipt the chest will go to you subject to your approval. i shall be looking for your post card. very truly yours, old english chest company [signature: edward brown, pres. dict eb-ers.] * * * * * _the wrong and right way of handling form letters. in the first letter the type of the fill-in does not match and the lines are out of alignment. wide white space at both sides of the date "july d" and the town, "ravenswood," calls attention to the poor fill-in. the second letter shows the same fill-ins coming at the end of paragraphs. the second letter has a date line, personal signature and initials of dictator and stenographer--little touches that add to the personality of the letter_ * * * * * a similar scheme is to write the first paragraph or sentence in red ink. this is a somewhat expensive process, however, for the letter must be run through the duplicating machine twice and skill is required to secure an exact register. now that two-colored typewriter ribbons are in such general use the name and address and date are printed in red, eliminating the necessity of matching the ink of the body of the letter. this is an effective attention-getter, but unless carefully printed the impersonality is apparent. in certain kinds of communications where the more formal customs of social correspondence are sometimes employed, the letter is often opened with the salutation, "my dear sir." the full name and address is then written in the lower left corner, in alignment with the paragraphs of the body of the letter. some businesses, presenting a proposition to a limited number of persons, write the entire first paragraph. it is usually short and of course should be made pointedly personal. "typing" the name and address onto the form letter is another familiar scheme to make it more personal. use of a body fill-in is always effective. but the right way to do this is to phrase the letter so that the name, or date, or word, to be inserted, comes at the beginning or end of the paragraph, preferably at the end. otherwise the fill-in may be too short for the space allowed and the result is farcical. here is an all too common mistake: "you may be sure, mr. hall, that this machine is just as represented." * * * * * the advantage of having the fill-in at the end of the paragraph is because names vary so much in length that they seldom just fill the space that is left and when there is a long blank space, as in the sentence given above, the scheme is anything but effective. a manufacturer of automobiles, writing old customers who might wish to exchange their machines for newer models, added a real personal touch by filling in the serial number of each machine at the end of a line. another individual touch was added in this way: "you will be interested to know that we have recently sold one of our machines to a near neighbor of yours, mr. henry c. smith of rock creek." * * * * * this sentence was so phrased that the neighbor's name came at the end of a line and could be easily filled in. a furniture manufacturer works in a personal touch by closing a paragraph of his letter with this sentence: "you can find our liberal offer to ship freight pre-paid to rogers park on page of the catalogue." * * * * * the name of the town and page number of the catalogue came at the end of the sentence. another manufacturer opened his letter with this sentence: "on april , we received your inquiry." in this case, "on april ," was filled in at the beginning of the sentence. both schemes give the "one-man" attitude. a personal touch in the body of the letter indicates an individual communication--as it really is. there are four ways for making the body of the letter look like a regularly typewritten message: it may be typewritten, printed on a printing press, printed through a ribbon or printed by means of a stenciled waxed paper. firms sending out only a few form letters typewrite them so that no effort is necessary to give an individual touch. but the letter printed from typewriter type by means of an ordinary printing press is obviously nothing more than an ordinary circular. filling in the name and address by a typewriter is absolutely useless. it is usually advisable to print form letters by means of some duplicating process which prints through a ribbon. where a stencil is used, the waxed paper is put in the typewriter and the letter is written on it without a ribbon. here the stenciled letter replaces the usual type, and the impression secured can seldom be detected from a typewritten letter. a stencil can be made more quickly than type for the same letter can be set. then the exact touch of the typist is reproduced on the duplicated letters through the stencil. no stenographer can write a letter without making some words heavier than others, the distribution of the ink is not the same throughout, so absolute uniformity in the printed letter is not advisable. in printing the body of the letter select some process which gives the appearance of typewriting and then match the fill-in. one merchant secured an effective matching of fill-in and body by printing the form with a poorly-inked ribbon on the duplicating machine and then filling in the name and address with a typewriter ribbon that had been well used. while the general appearance of the letter was marred by this scheme, the impression was that of a letter written on a poor typewriter and it was effective. the business man, the clerk and the farmer--everyone visited by the postman--is becoming more and more familiar with letters. the day has passed when anyone is deceived by a carelessly handled form letter. unless a firm feels justified in spending the time and money to fill in the letter very carefully, it is much better to send it out frankly as a circular. nor is this always a weakness, for a clever touch can be added that introduces the personal elements. one mail-order house sent out a large mailing with this typewritten notice in the upper left corner of the letterhead: "you must pardon me for not filling in your name and address at the beginning of this letter, but the truth is i must get off fifty thousand letters tonight, and i have not the necessary stenographic force to fill in the name and address on each individual letter." * * * * * in spite of the fact that each man was frankly told that , other persons were receiving the same letter, the appeal was as personal as an individual message. another writer opened his communication in this way: "this letter is to you. and it is just as personal as if i had sat down and pounded it off on the typewriter myself, and i am sure that you, as a business man, appreciate that this is a personal message to you, even if i am writing a hundred thousand others at the same time." * * * * * this letter struck a popular and responsive chord, for each reader took it to himself as a frank, honest appeal, from a frank, honest business man. it was a direct personal communication because each reader felt that although it was duplicated a thousand times it nevertheless contained a live message. but the care that some writers take to make the form letter look personal, is the very thing that kills it. they make the letter too perfect. to avoid this result, leave an imperfect word, here and there, throughout the body of the letter. watch the setting up of the type to be sure the lines are not spaced out like a printed page. many correspondents imitate the common mistakes of the typewritten letter from the mechanical standpoint and in the language. time spent in correcting these errors with pen and ink is usually considered a paying investment. the tympan of the duplicating machine is sometimes made uneven so that the impression of a typewriter is still further carried out. some duplicating machines advertise that their type print "loose" for this very purpose. a favorite scheme with firms where letter presses are used is to blur the letter slightly after it has been filled in and signed. a word "xxx'd" out as by a typewriter lends an impression of the personal message, as does also the wrong spelling of a word, corrected by pen and ink. but fully as vital to the individuality of the letter is the manner in which it is closed. the signature of the form letter is a subject that deserves as careful consideration as the superscription and the body of the letter. the actual typewritten letter to henry brown is signed with pen and ink. even where the name of the company also appears at the end of the letter, the personal signature in ink is desirable. and when you write all the henry browns on your mailing list, you should apply the pen-and-ink signature to every letter. that is the only effective way. it is not so essential that the signature should be applied by the writer personally. often a girl writes the signature, saving the time of a busy department head. many firms use a rubber facsimile stamp for applying the signature, but it is not as effective, for it is seldom that the stamped name does not stand out as a mechanical signature. one concern adds the name of the company at the bottom of the letter and has a clerk mark initials underneath with pen and ink. the form letter has a heavy load which carries a row of hieroglyphics at the bottom of the page--the "x-y-z," the " , , ," the "dictated wml-or" and the twenty and one other key numbers and symbols common to the form letters of many houses. when a man receives such a letter, he is impressed by the mass of tangled mechanical operations the message has undergone; on its face he has the story of its mechanical make-up and its virility is lost, absolutely. then consider the various notes, stamped in a frankly mechanical manner at the bottom of the letter, such as, "dictated, but not read," "signed in the absence of mr. so-and-so." to the average man who finds one of these notes on the letter, there is the impression of a slap in the face. he does not like to be reminded that he may converse with the stenographer in the absence of the president. when a letter says "not read" he feels that the message was not of sufficient importance to warrant the personal attention of the writer. eliminate all such notes from the form letter. sometimes a postscript may suggest a note of personality. for instance, one firm writes underneath the signature: "i want you to look especially at the new model on page of the catalogue." this is effective if done with pen and ink, but if printed or stamped, it gives no additional tone of individuality to the letter. one manufacturer had a postscript written on an extra slip of paper which he pasted to the corner of the sheet. another concern writes out on a piece of white paper the blue-penciled postscript: "i'll send you this three-tool garden kit _free_ (express prepaid) if your order for the patent roller reaches me before the th." this is made into a zinc etching and printed in blue so perfectly that the postscript appears to have been applied with a blue pencil. still another postscript scheme is to write the form letter so that it just fills the first page, then to dictate and sign a paragraph for a second page--a most effective plan. then you must consider the enclosure that often goes with the letter. this frequently stamps it a circular. if you are offering a special discount or introductory sale price, for instance, it would be ridiculous to say in your letter, "this is a special price i am quoting to you," when the reader finds the same price printed on the circular. print the regular price, and then blot out the figures with a rubber stamp and insert the special price with pen and ink, or with a stamp. if you offer a special discount it is best to say so frankly: "i am making this special discount to a selected list of a few of our old friends. and in order that you may be sure of this discount i am enclosing the discount card which will entitle you to the special prices." * * * * * [illustration: _a series of letterheads that illustrate various uses of the product and so not only vary the appearance of successive letters but afford good advertising_.] [illustration: _for different departments, to handle different classes of correspondence or simply to vary their follow-up, varying letterheads are used_.] * * * * * the discount card should be filled-in with the name of the person written and stamped with a serial numbering machine. the date the special offer expires should also be stamped on the circular. in making a special offer to a "limited number of persons," the enclosure describing it and the return order blank should not be too elaborate or carefully prepared. it is more effective to make them inexpensive and give a careless appearance. aim to carry the impression that with a hundred or so you could not afford to do it better. do not let an opportunity pass to give the enclosure the same personal touch that you aim at in the letter. some houses even sign the reader's name to the card. a pencil or pen mark over some particular feature of the enclosure is another way to suggest personal attention. refer to the enclosure in a way that indicates individual attention. a correspondence school takes off the weight of the overload of enclosures by inserting this paragraph: "so in order that you may properly understand our proposition i am enclosing these circulars and application blanks. it is impossible to tell one whole story in a single letter, or even a series of letters. to make them perfectly plain i have asked my stenographer to number them with a pen, and i will refer to them in this letter in that order." * * * * * a manufacturer who has succeeded in the mail-order business turns down a page in his catalogue, and refers to it in this way: "i have turned down the corner of a page-- --in my catalogue that i particularly want you to read. on this page you will find pictured and described the best value in a single-seated carriage ever offered to the public. turn to this page now and see if you can afford not to investigate this proposition further." * * * * * a successful campaign prepared by a wholesale house consisted simply of a letter and a cheap-looking yellow circular, across the top of which had been printed with a typewriter duplicating machine this heading: "there is no time to prepare an elaborate circular--the time limit set on this offer is too short." * * * * * this idea was further strengthened by additional typewritten notes on the top and sides of the circular. the special offer and order blank appeared in typewriter type on the back of the circular. another scheme which pulled results for a tailor was this typewritten postscript: "the enclosed is a circular letter. if i sent it to you without this personal note, i fear you would be too busy to give it the attention it deserves. so i ask you now--in justice to your interests--to read this circular as carefully as if i had put the whole thing in a personal letter to you." * * * * * it is an easy matter to enclose a few typewritten names, so a paper manufacturer says in his answer to an inquiry: "i'm sending you a list of the printers in your immediate vicinity from whom you can secure our bond papers." * * * * * a land concern refers to an enclosed list in this way: "so you can investigate for yourself just what our proposition will do for you, i am having my stenographer make up a list of a few purchasers in your vicinity from whom you can secure first hand facts." * * * * * another concern typewrites the note "personal matter" on the enclosed return envelope to give added individuality to it. thus the return envelope contributes to the general impression of the one-man message. but whether it is the superscription, the body of the letter, the closing or the enclosure, there is one general principle that must be followed: first consider how you would handle the individual letter, then make the form letter similar. make the form letter talk as though it were intended for one man. keep this rule in mind and your form letters will pull. making _letterheads_ and _envelopes_ distinctive part iv--the dress of a business letter--chapter _the dress of a business letter reflects the character and the standing of a house no less than the dress of its personal representative. the quality of the paper, the kind of printing or engraving, the mechanical make-up--all these things contribute to the_ impression _a letter makes upon the recipient even_ before the message is read. _many letters come to nothing because their dress is unattractive, cheap, slovenly; and so progressive business men are learning to select their stationery with care to insure for it both tone and dignity. the kind of paper to select--the size, the tint and the quality--is described and explained in the following chapter_ * * * * * the first impression created by a business letter is based upon its outward appearance--upon its mechanical make-up, the quality of its paper, the grade of its printing or engraving; upon the superficial qualities that are apparent at a glance. the externals do not necessarily reflect the quality of the message within the letter. but the experienced business man, who is trained to make his estimate quickly, gets an impression of some kind--good, bad or indifferent--of every letter that comes before him, even before a word of that letter is read. in other words, the general appearance of the letter is the first appeal that it makes to the average man. the nearer that appearance conforms to the appearance of the letters from reputable concerns with which he is familiar, the more favorably he is impressed with it. the farther its appearance departs from the established and approved standards, the more forcibly will that letter force itself upon his attention. but whether the recipient is favorably or unfavorably impressed by this prominence depends upon the skill and ingenuity with which the letter is made up mechanically. generally speaking, business correspondence paper may be classified as follows: first: the _conventional_ stationery, that conforms to the established rules and the principal variation of which is in the quality of its paper and printing. second: the _individualistic_ stationery, that departs from the usual styles and is good to the extent that it meets the unusual requirements for which it is designed. third: the _eccentric_ stationery, which is usually merely a fanciful violation of the conventions for the purpose of being conspicuous. of these three types of business stationery, the first is essentially practical and sane; the second is forceful if it does not violate the fundamental rules of color and design, and if it has a peculiarly apt application; while the third is almost invariably in as poor taste as eccentricity in dress. the first consideration in the preparation of business stationery is the paper, or "stock." the quality of this "stock," like the quality of material of a suit of clothes, largely determines the taste, if not the resources of the owner. important messages may be written on cheap stationery; big men with big plans are sometimes clad in shoddy garments. but ninety-nine out of a hundred are not, and the hundredth man, who does not conform to the accepted order of things, is taking an unnecessary business risk of being wrongly classified. after a man has delivered his message, the quality of his clothes is not an important item. after a letter has been read, the quality of its paper is insignificant. but as the man is seen before he is heard, and the letter before it is read, it is good business to make both dress and stationery conform to approved styles. for instance, the average financial institution, such as a bank or trust company, takes every precaution to create an impression of strength and security. the heavy architecture of its building, the massive steel bars, its uniformed attendants the richness of its furnishings, all tend to insure a sense of reliability. does it use cheap stationery? on the contrary, it uses rich, heavy bond. the quality of its paper conforms to the dignity and wealth of the institution; indeed, so long has the public been trained to expect good letter paper from such concerns that it would be apt to mistrust, perhaps unconsciously, the house that resorted to cheap grades of stationery which is almost invariably associated with cheap concerns or with mere form letters issued in large quantities. stationery should be representative of the business from which it comes. the impression created by a well-dressed man, as well as of a well-dressed letter, is seldom analyzed; the first glance is generally sufficient to establish that impression. a letter soliciting an investment of money, if printed on cheap stock, may create such a tawdry impression as to be discarded instantly by the average business man, although the letter may come from an entirely reliable house and contain an excellent business proposition on good, substantial paper. for this reason, the letter that departs from the usual standards must assume unnecessary risks of being thrown away unread. to discriminate at a glance between important and inconsequential business letters, is what most men have been trained to do. it is not exaggeration to claim that the success of many business letters often depends upon the paper. the difference between the letter of an obscure country merchant or lawyer, and that of his well-known correspondent in the city, lies often in its mechanical appearance. the one, who is not trained to observe what he considers trifling items, uses paper that is cheap and easily available; the other, experienced in the details that tend to increase the dignity of the house, selects his stationery with care from a wider assortment. ninety-nine times out of a hundred the two letters may be identified at a distance. the message of one letter may be just as important as the other; but one is properly and the other is improperly "clothed." what the firm thinks about business stationery is not so important as what the recipients think. do not buy good stock because it pleases the "house," but because it influences the man to whom the house writes. first impressions are usually strongest and the first impression produced by a letter comes from the paper upon which it is written. some men seem to feel superior to creating a good impression. they do not want to stoop so low as to go to the best hotel. they will not buy a hat or an umbrella that can help them get business. their general idea is to bang their way into the market and succeed in their shirt sleeves, as it were, and on the strength of the goods. of course, if a man has time to succeed in his shirt sleeves, there is no objection to it. the idea of having as one's address the best hotel, or in writing one's business on the best paper, is not that a man could not succeed in his shirt sleeves, if he set out to, but that he has not time. he gets little things out of the way and proceeds to business. the quality of the paper must be largely influenced by the purpose, as well as by the quantity of the letters to be written. a firm that sends out hundreds of thousands of form letters to sell a small retail article in the rural districts, will not use an expensive stock; it will use a cheaper quality of paper. if the form letter goes to business or professional men in the city, the quality of the paper will be determined accordingly. in every instance, stock should be selected which will meet the expectations of the recipient. the fact that the recipient knows a form letter as such, largely nullifies its influence. a business man who sends out a large number of form letters a year claims that when he gets a reply beginning, "in response to your form letter," he knows that the effect of that letter is absolutely lost on a large percentage of this list who seldom or never bother to read such communications. and one of the distinguishing marks of such a letter is the poor quality of its paper. different grades of stationery may be used for the various departments. for inter-house or inter-department correspondence, an inexpensive paper is desirable. for many purposes, indeed, a low-priced stock is entirely permissible. but the higher the quality of paper, the more exclusive and personal that letter becomes, until, in the cases of executive heads of corporations, the stock used is of the best. one well-known corporation regularly uses six different grades of paper for its letters; one grade is engraved upon a thin bond of excellent quality and used by the president of the company when writing in his official capacity; another grade is engraved upon a good quality of linen paper and is used by the other officers, sales managers and heads of office departments when writing official letters to outside parties; when writing to officers or employees of their own concern, the same letterhead, lithographed on a less expensive grade of paper, is used; a fourth grade of bond paper is used by officers and department heads for their semi-official correspondence. the sixth grade is used only for personal letters of a social nature; it is of a high quality of linen stock, tinted. thus, the size, shape and quality of the paper and letterhead in each instance is made to conform to the best business and social usages. for business correspondence, custom allows but little leeway in the choice of paper. for print shops, advertising concerns, ink manufacturers, engravers, or paper manufacturers, stationery offers an opportunity to exploit their taste or products in an effective and legitimate manner. for most houses, however, a plain bond, linen, or the vellums and hand-made papers that are coming into favor, furnish the best letter paper. colors on correspondence paper are seldom used to good effect; the results are frequently glaring and cheap. when in doubt as to what tint to use in the paper stock, use white, which is always in good taste. tinted stock is occasionally used to good advantage as a "firm color." in such cases all the correspondence of that house has a uniform tint, which thus acquires an advertising value in attracting attention to itself among a mass of other letters. aside from this occasional and often doubtful advertising value, tinted stock tends toward the eccentric except in the cases of paper dealers, publishers, or printers who have a purpose in displaying typographical effects. many concerns use paper of various tints, each of which identifies the particular department from which it comes. thus, white paper may mark the letters from the executive department, blue from the selling department, and brown from the manufacturing department. but, even in such cases, the colors are used ordinarily only for inter-house or inter-department communications. the sheet should be of standard size; that is the letter sheet should be folded to fit exactly into the envelope that is used. only such paper stock should be selected as can hold ink readily. never select a stock that is not entirely serviceable on a typewriting machine. never sacrifice the practical to the eccentric in business stationery. an inferior quality of stationery is sometimes accepted by the shrewd observer either as a deliberate act to economize or as an indication of poor taste or indifference. a man who gets an estimate, for example, written on cheap paper, may be led to believe that the man who skimps on letter paper is apt to skimp on his work. so long as the paper represents the sender, just so long will the sender be judged by it. from a semi-business or social standpoint, stationery often plays an important role; many instances are recorded where a man's private note paper has been the means of eliminating his name from select, social lists. the lady who, in writing to an employment office for a butler, used her private stationery with the remark, "that is one more way of giving them to understand what sort of a butler i want," knew the effect produced by proper letter paper. in other words, the _stationery_ of a business house--the size, the proportions, the tint, the quality of its correspondence-paper-- offers the first of the several opportunities for the correspondent to put the recipient into a receptive state of mind toward the communication. it is an item that the shrewd correspondent does not ignore, because it offers him an opportunity--and the first opportunity--to score. the _typographical_ make-up of business letters part iv--the dress of a business letter--chapter _all business houses recognize the necessity for having printed letterheads and envelopes, but the variety of designs and styles are infinite. nothing, not even the paper, affords such an index to the character of the individual or firm as the typography of the envelope and letterhead. an impression, favorable or otherwise, is created_ before the letter is read. _this chapter describes the methods of printing, engraving and lithographing; the advantages of each process, and the difference in prices; the proper placing of date, name and address, the width of margins, spacing between lines--little points that contribute to the appearance of the letter and give it tone_ * * * * * the feature of a business letter that invariably commands the first conscious attention of the recipient is the name--printed or written--of the firm or individual from whom the letter comes. except when the correspondent intentionally omits this information for the purpose of inducing the recipient to notice a circular letter that he might otherwise ignore, the name and address of the sender is printed on the envelope. this is done for two reasons: it brings the name of the correspondent before the recipient immediately upon receipt of the letter; it tends to secure favorable attention, and it enables the post office authorities to return letters to the senders in case of non-delivery because of removals, death, wrong address or other causes. in either case, the interests of the correspondent are best served by printing this information in the upper left corner of the face of the envelope. it is this side of the envelope that bears the address and the stamp, and consequently the only side, under ordinary circumstances, that receives attention from either the postal officials or the recipient. when the sender's name is printed in this position, it is brought prominently to the attention of the recipient as the letter is placed before him. but even a more practical reason for putting this data in the upper left corner is that such a location on the envelope permits the post office rubber stamp, "_return to sender_," to be affixed, in case of need, without the confusion and annoyance that is caused when this address is printed on the back of the envelope, as is sometimes done. as a rule, the printed matter that appears on the envelope should consist merely of the name and address of the sender in plain, legible letters. in no case should the address be ambiguous. however many branch offices the firm may have, the use of more than one address on the envelope is apt to be confusing and may result in a communication's being returned to an office other than that from which it comes. to avoid this, only one address should be printed on the envelope, and that should be the address to which the correspondence is to be returned by the postal authorities in case of non-delivery to the addressee. the trade mark or other similar distinctive imprint of a firm may properly be used on the envelope, but only in cases where it will not tend to confuse or crowd the essential wording. the name of the person to whom the letter is to be returned is of considerable more practical value to the postman than a unique design with which the envelope may be adorned. the letterhead offers wider opportunities for an array of data. pictures of offices, buildings and factories, trade marks, lists of branch offices, cable codes and the names of officers and executive heads may be used, but too much reading matter leads to confusion. the tendency today is toward simplicity. the name and address of the firm, and the particular department or branch office from which the communication comes, is regarded as sufficient by many houses. the day of the letterhead gay with birds-eye views of the plant and much extraneous information seems to be passing, and money that was once spent in elaborate designs and plates is now put into the "quality" of the letter paper--and quality is usually marked by dignified simplicity and directness. letterheads may be mechanically produced by several different processes that range widely in costs. the principal methods of printing letterheads are: first: from type. second: from zinc or half-tone plates made from drawings--generally designated as "photo-engraving". third: from plates engraved on copper or steel. fourth: from lithograph plates, engraved on stone. fifth: from photogravure or similar engraved plates. generally speaking, letterheads printed from type are the cheapest. the costs of type composition for an ordinary letterhead will vary from fifty cents to four or five dollars, dependent upon the amount of work. the printing ranges in cost from one dollar a thousand sheets for one color to several times that amount, dependent upon the quality of ink and paper, and upon local conditions. many concerns are discarding letterheads printed from type, as more individuality can be shown in some form of engraved or lithographed work. good results may often be secured from "line cuts" or zinc plates-- which cost from five to ten cents a square inch, with a minimum charge ranging from fifty cents to a dollar--made from pen-and-ink drawings. good and distinctive lettering may often be secured in this way, where type matter does not offer the same opportunities. the cost of printing from zinc plates is practically the same as the cost of printing from type. if the drawings are made in water color, "wash" or oil, or if they contain fine crayon or pencil shadings, the reproductions must be made from half-tone plates. these cost from twelve cents to twenty cents a square inch, with a minimum rate that usually is equivalent to the cost of ten square inches. half-tones, however, can be printed only on an enamel or other smooth-surface paper, and cannot be used satisfactorily on a rough-surface paper as can zinc plates. copper or steel engravings are made from designs furnished either by the engraver or by some other designer. for simple engraved lettering such as is customarily used on business stationery, the cost of a copper plate is about ten cents a letter. for elaborate designs the costs increase proportionately. steel plates, which are more durable, cost about sixty per cent more. printing from such plates is considerably more expensive than the two processes previously described. engraved letterheads cost from six dollars upward a thousand for the printing, while the envelopes cost approximately two dollars and fifty cents a thousand. the envelopes are usually printed from steel dies, which cost about ten cents a letter. for large orders of stationery, exceeding , sheets, lithography offers economies in price and other advantages that render it more practical than metal engraving. the design is engraved upon stone and printed from the stone block. while the initial costs of lithography are high, ranging from $ . to $ . for the engraving (with an average cost of about $ . ), the price of printing is so moderate as to make this form of production popular among extensive users of business paper. lithography gives a smooth, uniform and permanent impression on the paper, and permits of an indeterminate "run." the cost of printing from lithographic plates is practically the same as from steel or copper plates. the savings effected in large orders is in the cost of the plates, for copper and steel must be renewed as they become worn down. the photogravure process is costly both in the plate-making and in the printing. while it gives a rich and uniform impression on the letter paper, and is highly valuable for reproducing pictures and ornate designs, it is adaptable only for special purposes and is not generally regarded as suitable for commercial work. a photogravure plate costs from seventy-five cents to one dollar and twenty-five cents a square inch, or about $ . to $ . for a letterhead. the printing costs about the same as for other engraved stationery. with other processes, somewhat similar in the market, this method of printing letterheads has not yet won extensive favor. it is now almost universally recognized that a letter should be written on one side of the sheet only. a copy should be kept of every communication that leaves the office. either a carbon copy may be made at the time the letter is written--six good copies can be made simultaneously on the average typewriter, although one is usually sufficient--or a letter-press copy can be made from the sheet after it is signed. both forms have been accepted by the courts as legal copies of correspondence. such copies are usually filed alphabetically either by the name of the company or individual to whom the letter is addressed. letter-press copies must necessarily be filed chronologically, even when separate books for each letter of the alphabet are maintained. in either case the search through the files for a letter copy is facilitated by placing the name, address and date of a letter at the top. for the same reason the date of a letter should be placed in the upper right corner of the page; the recipient must know when the communication is sent; it may have a bearing on other communications. the name and address of the addressee, similar to the address on the envelope, should in all cases be placed, as the formal salutation, in the upper left corner of the sheet, whether the correspondent be greeted "dear sir" or "gentlemen." not only does this establish at once the exact individual for whom the communication is intended but it facilitates the filing of the correspondence, both by the recipient and by the sender. the margins of a business letter, owing to the limitations of the typewriter, are usually variable. the space occupied by the letterhead must, of course, determine the margin at the top of the sheet. theoretically, the margins at the left and right should be exactly the same size; practically, however, the typewriter lines will vary in length and cause an uneven edge on the right side. in printing, the use of many-sized spaces not only between words but at times, between the letters themselves rectifies these variations, but the typewriter does not permit this. the more even the right margin is and the more uniform it is to the left margin, the better the effect. the margins should be about one and a half inches in width. the margin at the bottom should not be less than the side margins. should it be smaller, the page will appear cramped for space as the reading matter will be really running over into the margin--a typographical defect that is as noticeable on typewritten as on printed pages. the spacing between the lines and between the paragraphs of a business letter may vary to suit the tastes of the individual, although considerations of a practical nature tend to establish a few general principles. both for purposes of convenience and of economy, a letter should be as compact as possible, both in words and in mechanical production. it should not take up two sheets if the message can be written on one without undue crowding. hence most business letters are single spaced; that is, only one space on the typewriter separates the lines. even when a letter is short, it is advisable for purposes of uniformity, to use single spaces only. the first line of each paragraph is usually indented from five to fifteen points on the machine. each business house should establish exactly what this indentation shall be in order to secure uniformity in its correspondence. instead of indenting the first line, some concerns designate the paragraphs merely by separating them by double spacings, beginning the first line flush with the left margin. the best practice, however, seems to embody both of these methods, but the average business letter usually has its paragraphs separated by double spacing and indenting the first line. the address on the envelope, to which the salutation at the top of the letter should correspond, either exactly or in slightly condensed form, may be properly typewritten in various ways. the style that is most observed, however, and which has the stamp of general approval, provides for an indentation of about five points on each line of the address. between the lines the spacings may be either single or double but the latter is preferable. greater spacing tends to separate the address too much to allow it to be read quickly. another approved, though less popular form of address does not indent the lines at all. any radical departure from these forms should be made cautiously, especially if the various items of the address are separated from each other. the address, like a paragraph, is generally read as a unit--as a single, distinct idea. the closer the address conforms to the generally accepted forms, the more readily are the envelopes handled by the postoffice and the less danger of delay. getting a uniform _policy_ and _quality_ in letters part iv--the dress of a business letter--chapter _every correspondent naturally reflects his own personality in his letters. his distinguishing characteristics, good, bad and indifferent, inevitably tend to find expression in his correspondence_--unless those tendencies are guided. _that is exactly what the modern business house does. it directs the work of its correspondents by means of general and specific rules as well as by instruction in the policies of the house until ail of its letters are uniform in quality and bear the stamp of a consistent personality--the personality of "the house"_ * * * * * a number of years ago, the president of a company manufacturing carriages felt that he was not getting adequate results for the money he was spending in the mail sales department. one day he called a meeting of all his correspondents and asked each man what arguments he used in writing to prospects. he discovered that eight correspondents were using eight different lines of talk. one emphasized this feature of the carriage, a second based his argument on another feature, and no two correspondents were reaching prospects from the same angle or making use of the same arguments. "here are eight different approaches," said the president. "it is certain that one of these must be more effective than the other seven. they can't all be best. it is up to us to test them out and determine which one is best and then we will all use it." when the proposition was presented in this way, it was so elementary that everyone wondered why it had not been thought of before. a series of tests followed with the different arguments and presentations and by a process of elimination the company proved conclusively which was the strongest approach. then all of the correspondents used it in the first letter and the second strongest argument was used in the second letter, and so on through the follow-up. it was no longer left for each man to develop his arguments and his selling talk according to his own ideas. through tests, consultation and discussion, every point was considered and all the correspondence was on the same level. by adopting a uniform policy the efficiency of the sales department was increased, the quality of the letters was raised and the work was handled more expeditiously and more economically. one cannot write to all his customers and prospects; that is why it is necessary to have correspondents in the various departments. it is an easy matter to adopt rules and establish policies that will make their letters of a much higher standard and give them greater efficiency than if each went his own way without rule or regulation to guide him. every correspondent represents the house in a dignified manner and handles the subjects intrusted to his care in a way that will reflect the best thought and the most successful methods of the house. not everyone can be developed into a master correspondent but it is possible to establish a policy and enforce rules that will give quality and at least a fair measure of salesmanship to all letters. many businesses have grown so rapidly and the heads have been so absorbed in the problems of production and extending markets that little time or thought has been given to the work of the correspondents. and so it happens that in many concerns the correspondence is handled according to the whims, the theories and the personality of the various men who are in charge of the different departments. but there are other concerns that have recognized the desirability of giving individuality to all the mail that bears a house message. they have found that the quality can be keyed up and the letters, even though they may be written in a dozen different departments, all have the family resemblance and bear evidence of good parentage. and it may be certain that when all the letters from a house impart this tone, this atmosphere of quality and distinction, it is not because of chance. it is not because the correspondents all happen to use a similar policy. such letters imply a deliberate, persistent, intelligent effort to keep the correspondence from falling below a fixed level. such a policy represents one of the finer products of the process of systematically developing all the factors in modern business--the stamping of a strong individuality upon all of the correspondence of a large organization. to secure this uniformity in policy and in quality, it is necessary to adopt a set of clear, comprehensive rules and to impress upon the correspondents the full significance of the standing, the character and the traditions of the house. there are certain tendencies on the part of some correspondents that can be overcome by a general rule. for instance, there are the correspondents who try to be funny in their letters. attempts at humor should be forbidden for the day has gone when the salesman can get orders by telling a funny story. another correspondent may deal too largely in technicalities in his letters, using words and phrases that are not understood. then there is the correspondent who has an air of superiority in his letters and writes with impudence and his letters suggest a condescension on his part to explain a proposition; or the complaint department may have a man who grants an allowance or makes an adjustment but puts a sting into his letter that makes the reader wish he had never patronized the house. all such tendencies may be eradicated by a set of rules giving specific instruction on how to handle every point that comes up and the attitude that is to be assumed in answering complaints, collecting accounts, making sales, and so forth. and in order to have the letters reflect the house, rules have been adopted in some cases that cover every conceivable point from a broad policy in handling arguments to a specific rule regarding the use of commas. for instance, it is no longer left to the discretion of the correspondent to start his letter "john smith." a rule provides that all letters shall begin "mr. john smith." for the sake of dignity, a western mail-order house decided to use "dear sir" and "dear madam" in the first three letters that went to a customer. but on the third and succeeding letters this house uses the salutation "dear mr. smith" or "dear mrs. smith." this is a matter of policy, a rule that will keep the letters up to a fixed standard. * * * * * page from one firm's book of rules: _in a long letter, or where two or more subjects are treated, each subject must be introduced with an appropriate subhead. all letters, long or short, must carry a general subject head between the address and the first paragraph. this general head and the subheads must be in capitals, underscored with a single line, and as nearly as possible in the middle of the sheet from right to left. carefully avoid even the appearance of sarcasm. be wary of adjectives, particularly superlatives. "very," "great," "tremendous," "excellent," etc., have marred many an otherwise strong phrase and have propped needlessly many a good word, all-sufficient of itself. never use the first personal pronoun "i" when writing as blank company. "we" is the proper pronoun. where a personal reference is necessary, "the writer" may be used; but even this should be avoided wherever possible. don't forget that certain small words are in the language for a purpose. "and," "a," "the," are important, and their elimination often makes a letter bald, curt, and distinctly inelegant. carefully avoid such words and stock phrases as "beg to acknowledge," "beg to inquire," "beg to advise," etc. do not "beg" at all. do not say "kindly" for "please." do not say "enclosed herewith." herewith is superfluous. do not "reply" to a letter; "answer" it. you answer a letter and reply to an argument._ * * * * * in determining a uniformity in policy and quality, the rules may be grouped in three classes: those which determine the attitude of the writer; those that relate to the handling of subject matter; and then there are specific rules, such as the style of paper, the salutation, the subscription, signature, and so forth. the attitude and policy of the house must be determined according to the nature of the business and the ideas of the management. the same rules will not apply to all houses but this does not lessen the desirability of an established policy. for instance, one large corporation, selling entirely to dealers and to large contractors, forbids the use of the first person singular. under no consideration is the correspondent permitted to say "i". and if a personal reference is absolutely necessary, he must refer to "the writer". the rule is to say "we" and the correspondents are urged to avoid this personal pronoun, using the name of the company, as, "it has always been the practice of the workwell company," and so on. most mail-order houses, on the other hand, get just as far away from this formal attitude as possible. here it is the policy to get up close to the reader by a "you-and-me" attitude. some mail-order houses have letters written in the name of the company, signed by the writer as department manager, sales manager, or other officer. then there are other houses that omit the company name entirely in order to get away from the "soulless corporation" idea as much as possible, and letters to a customer are always signed by the same individual to get a personal relationship that is considered a most valuable asset. this does not mean merely the matter of the signature, but the entire attitude of the letter. "address your reply to me personally" is the spirit of these firms--a policy that has been adopted after tests have demonstrated that it is the one appeal most effective with the average mail-order customer. a large concern aims to make its points stand out more clearly by having the arguments presented in a one, two, three order, and each paragraph is introduced with a subject printed in capitals at the beginning of the first line, such as _location_, _terms_, _guarantee_. this company, dealing in lands, usually finds it necessary to write rather lengthy letters and the subject heads serve as guide-posts and tend to concentrate attention. one firm has barred all superlative adjectives, not merely to guard against exaggeration but because the superlative degree lacks conviction. the statement that "this is the best collar ever made" is not believed, but to say that it is a "fine" collar or a "good" collar for it is five-ply, and so forth, rings true. it is a better selling talk and so the superlative is not permitted. then there are other general policies that concerns have adopted, such as a rule that the price of articles cannot be mentioned in a letter. a printed enclosure gives this information and reference may be made to it, but the dollar mark does not appear in the letter itself. this policy has been adopted to emphasize upon readers the fact that the company quotes but one price to all, and it makes an effective selling talk out of the point that special discounts and "inside prices" are never given. as confidence is always the first essential in building up a mail-order business, this policy has done much towards increasing the standing and reputation of the houses using it. and then come certain specific instructions covering a multitude of details. for instance, the style of paper is a matter that progressive business houses no longer ignore. the policy of the house may be revealed in the envelope and letter paper before one has had time to read even the date line. some firms provide different grades of stationery for different departments, the sales letters going out in a much finer dress than letters from other departments. the style to use is largely a matter of personal taste and preference. the significant thing is not in the kind that is used by certain companies but the fact that progressive business houses now appreciate the necessity for a uniformity in stationery and in the manner of handling it. harmony of color is especially desirable--the tint of the paper, the color of the lithographing, embossing or printing, the color of the typewriter ribbon used and the color of the ink used in signing. none of these points are too small to be considered in the progressive business houses today. the closing is no less important than the opening and most rule books relieve the correspondent of all responsibility in deciding on what subscription to use or how to sign the letter. for instance, he is told that the house policy is to close with "yours truly" and that the name of the company is written with the typewriter followed by the signature of the writer and his title, such as "president," or "sales manager." a publishing house in the east for years clung to the established policy of having all letters go out in the name of the president. but it was finally decided by the executive committee that this policy tended to belittle the house, for it was obvious that no institution of any size could have all its mail handled directly from the president's office. it was argued that if the president's name were used only occasionally, greater prestige would be given to the letters that actually came from his office, and thereafter letters were signed by different department heads as "manager of sales," "advertising manager," "managing editor," "manager of collection department," and so forth. and just so one could go through the book of rules of any business house and find a good reason for every policy that has been adopted. for while it is desirable to have a "family resemblance" which is possible only through established rules, and while letters written under specific instructions have added dignity and character, yet there is back of each rule some additional significance, the force of some tested argument, the psychological effect of some timely suggestion. no longer do large manufacturing and mercantile houses send out their salesmen and allow each one to push his line as he sees best. many concerns require the salesmen to take a regular course of training to learn thoroughly the "house" attitude, and they are given instructions on the best way to present arguments and overcome objections--just so the men who sell by letter are now instructed in the best methods for getting results. the best way to secure a uniform policy is a practical question. some houses employ a correspondent expert to spend a few weeks in the correspondence department just the same as an expert auditor is employed to systematize the accounting department. in other houses the book of rules is a matter of evolution, the gradual adding of new points as they come up and as policies are tried out, a process of elimination determining those that should be adopted. in some concerns the correspondents have regular meetings to discuss their problems and to decide upon the best methods of meeting the situations that arise in their work. they read letters that have pulled, analyze the arguments and in this way try to raise the quality of their written messages. while it must be admitted that some men have a natural faculty of expressing themselves clearly and forcibly, the fact remains that letter writing is an art that may be acquired. it necessitates a capacity to understand the reader's attitude; it requires careful study and analysis of talking points, arguments and methods of presentation, but there is no copyright on good letters and any house can secure a high standard and be assured that distant customers are handled tactfully and skilfully if a uniform policy is worked out and systematically applied. making letters uniform in _appearance_ part iv--the dress of a business letter--chapter _business stationery should reflect the house that sends it out but unless specific rules are adopted there will be a lack of uniformity in arrangement, in style, in spelling, infolding--all the little mechanical details that contribute to an impression of_ character _and_ individuality. _definite instructions should be given to correspondents and stenographers so that letters, although written in a dozen different departments, will have a uniformity in appearance. what a book of instructions should contain and how rules can be adopted is described in this chapter_ * * * * * just as progressive business houses now aim to have their correspondence uniform in policy and quality, so too, they aim at uniformity in letter appearance--the mechanical production. it is obvious that if the letters sent out by a house are to have character, one style must be adopted and definite rules must be formulated for the guidance of the stenographers. the authorities differ on many points such as the use of capital letters, abbreviations, the use of figures, and so forth, and it is not to be expected that stenographers, trained at different schools and working in different departments, could produce uniformity unless they all follow specific instructions. and so the more progressive firms have adopted a fixed style and codified certain rules for the guidance of stenographers and typists. in the writing of a letter there are so many points that are entirely a matter of personal taste that a comprehensive rule book touches an almost infinite number of subjects, ranging from an important question of house policy to the proper way of folding the sheet on which the letter is written. it is not the purpose of this chapter to give a summary of the rules for punctuation and capitalization or to pass judgment on questions of style, but to emphasize the necessity for uniformity in all correspondence that a house sends out, and to call attention to a few of the more common errors that are inexcusable. as far as the impression created by an individual letter is concerned, it really makes very little difference whether the paragraphs are indented or begin flush with the line margin. but it is important that all the letters sent out by a house follow the same style. a stenographer should not be permitted to use the abbreviation "co." in one part of her letter and spell out the word "company" in the following paragraph. in formulating the rules, two things should be kept in mind-- clearness, to make the meaning of the writer plain; and a pleasing appearance that will make a favorable impression upon the reader. the sole purpose of punctuation marks is to help convey a thought so clearly that it cannot be misunderstood and experienced writers learn to use the proper marks almost intuitively. the rules are applied unconsciously. many correspondents in dictating designate the beginning and the close of each sentence but others leave this to the intelligence of the stenographer, and there is no better rule for those to whom such matters are left than to be liberal in the use of periods. avoid long, involved sentences. there is little danger of misunderstanding in short sentences. most of the rules can be made hard and fast--a simple regulation to do this or to avoid that. they should begin with the date line. instructions should be given as to the place for the date line: whether it should be written on one or two lines and whether the month should be expressed in figures or should be spelled out, and whether the year should be printed in full or abbreviated. there is a growing tendency to use figures, such as - - , and supplementary letters, such as "rd," "th," and so forth, are being eliminated. some firms are placing the date at the bottom of the letter at the left hand margin, although for convenience in making a quick reference the date line at the top of the letter is much to be preferred. * * * * * a page of instructions to stenographers: _city and date must be written about three spaces below the lowest printed matter on letterhead, as follows: chicago, date single space below, regulated so that it will precede and extend beyond "chicago" an equal distance, the end of date being in line with margin of body of letter; spell the month in full, followed by the date in figures, after which use comma; add year in figures and end with period. commence letter by addressing customer, then double space and follow with city and state (do not give street address) except where window envelope is to be used; double space and address as "dear sir" or "madam." also double space between this salutation and first paragraph. paragraphs must begin ten points from margin on a line with city. use single space, with double space between paragraphs. in closing use the phrase "yours very truly" and sign "the wilson-graham company." have correspondent's and stenographer's initials on line with margin on left hand side of sheet. margins must be regulated by length of letter to be written, using your judgment in this respect. the half size letterhead should be used for very short letters. envelopes must be addressed double space, with beginning of name, street address, city and state on marginal line, as per sample attached._ * * * * * the points that are suggested here, however, are entirely a matter of taste. there is no court of last resort to which appeal can be made as to the better method. each house must use its own judgment. the important thing is to secure uniformity. rules should govern the name of the addressee, whether it should be prefaced by such titles as "mr." or "messrs." the form of the salutation, the size of the margin, the spacing between lines and between paragraphs, the indentation of paragraphs, if any--all of these points should be covered by rules. the subscription, the placing of the dictator's and the stenographer's initials are all proper subjects for the instruction book. the use of capital letters is a disputed question with writers, printers and proofreaders. but there is a growing tendency to use the small letters wherever possible. one large firm in the east has this rule: "when in doubt regarding the use of a capital letter, don't. use a small letter." a great many business houses, for the sake of emphasis, capitalize the names of their own products. for instance: "in this catalogue you will find listed a very complete line of countershafts, magnetos, induction coils, lubricators, mufflers, spark coils, and a complete line of automobile accessories." * * * * * there is no rule that justifies such capitalization but it is a common practice in business correspondence. there are some correspondents who write a word or a sentence in capital letters for emphasis. occasionally this may be done to advantage but the tendency is to overwork the scheme. at best it is a lazy man's way of trying to secure emphasis without the mental exertion of thinking up some figure of speech or some original expression that will give force to his thought. the rule book should help out the stenographer in the use of numbers and prices. usage and a practical viewpoint both commend the use of figures for expressing sums of money. "twelve hundred dollars" may be understood but it takes longer to write and does not make such a sharp image in the mind of the reader as $ , . a common rule for figures is to spell out numbers under one hundred and to use numerals for larger amounts. the use of abbreviations should be restricted and an inflexible rule should be never to use a man's initials or abbreviate his given name if he spells it out. if you find by a letterhead that the one to whom you are writing spells out the name of his state it is wise to follow the trail. the errors in punctuation found in business correspondence are of infinite variety, although a surprising number of stenographers make similar errors in using hyphens for dashes and in misplacing quotation marks. here is a common error: "a model no. ,--the one we exhibited at the business show last week,--has been sold to a customer in new zealand." * * * * * there is no excuse for the comma used in connection with the dash and yet this construction is found in letters every day. unfortunately most typewriters do not have a dash and so the hyphen is used, but stenographers should be instructed to use two or, better yet, three hyphens without spacing (---), rather than a single hyphen as is so frequently seen. here is a sentence in which the girl was versatile enough to combine two styles in one sentence: "the auto---although it was completely overhauled a few days ago---could not be started." * * * * * in the first place, the single hyphen gives the appearance of a compound word, and placing a space on each side is scarcely less objectionable. insist upon two or three hyphens without spaces when a dash is wanted. quotation marks are another stumbling block. there is no occasion to put the name of well-known books, magazines, and newspapers in quotation marks. if you refer to harper's monthly the reader will get your meaning just as well without the quotation marks. many stenographers in writing a sentence that ends with a quoted word place the quotation mark first and the period or question mark following, as: johnson's last words to me were: "i will accept your terms". * * * * * put the period inside the fence where it belongs. this is a rule that is violated more often than it is observed, the confusion coming from an occasional exception where a punctuation mark has nothing to do with the quotation, as in the sentence: "may we not send you a trial order of our "x brand"? * * * * * here it is plain that the question mark should follow the quotation mark. there is no excuse for the frequent misplacing of these marks, for the quoted part of a sentence invariably shows the proper position for each mark. a chapter could be filled with errors to be avoided--only a few of the most common ones are mentioned here. this reference to them may suggest to the heads of correspondence departments the range of points to be covered in a rule book. some rule books go further and devote pages to faulty diction that must be avoided and print lists of words that should not be used and words that are "preferred". the folding of the typewritten page usually comes in for a rule and instructions are generally given regarding corrections--whether the pen can be used at all or if letters must be rewritten. with these rules laid down for the guidance of the stenographer, her mind is left free for other things that will contribute to her usefulness. it is no reflection on their knowledge of correct english to say that the majority of correspondents, working under high pressure, make mistakes that the stenographer must catch. it is extremely easy in dictating to mix up the tenses of verbs and to make other slips which most letter writers look to their stenographers to correct. it should be a hard and fast rule that an ungrammatical letter must never be sent out under any circumstances. some correspondents not only look to the stenographer to edit their "copy" but to come back for a new dictation if the meaning of a letter is not perfectly clear. the thought is that if the stenographer does not understand it, there is danger of its being misinterpreted by the one to whom it is addressed. many rule books include a list of trade terms and phrases that the most expert stenographer may never have met with in their previous work. legal terms are especially difficult to take down until a girl has become familiar with the unknown latin words. this may also be said of technical terms, mechanical terms, architectural and building terms, and so forth. it is a saving of time and annoyance in many offices to have a list of frequently used words that the new stenographer can study before she attempts to take dictations. it is not likely that any two business houses could adopt the same rules throughout. but this does not lessen the desirability of having specific instructions covering all these points, for without uniformity, the letters will not have the character, the dignity and the individuality that is desired by every concern. how to write the _letter_ that will "land" the _order_ part v--writing the sales letter--chapter _selling goods is considered the biggest problem in the business world. hard as it is to close a deal with the prospect right before you, it is infinitely harder to get his order when he is miles away and you must depend upon a type-written sheet to interest him in your proposition sufficiently to buy your goods. methods that have succeeded are described in this chapter and samples of order-bringing letters are given_ * * * * * the letter that is sent out unaided to make its own approach, open its own canvass and either complete a sale or pave the way to a sale may be called "the original sales letter." there has been no inquiry, no preliminary introduction of any kind. the letter is simply the substitute for the salesman who voluntarily seeks out his own prospect, presents his proposition and tries to land an order. such a letter undertakes a big task. it has a more difficult mission than the personal salesman, for it cannot alter its canvass on the spot to suit the prospect's mood. it must have its plan complete before it goes into the mail. it must be calculated to grip the attention, impel a reading, prompt a favorable decision and get back, in the return envelope, an order or at least a request for further information. the letter that can do that, a letter so clever and so convincing that it makes a man a thousand miles away put his hand into his pocket, take out his hard earned cash and buy a money order; or makes the shrewd man at the desk take up his pen, write a check and send it for the goods you have to sell, is a better employee than your star salesman because it gets the order at a fraction of the cost. and the man who can write the letter that will do that is a power in the business world--his capacity is practically unlimited. original sales letters are of two kinds: those that endeavor to perform the complete operation and secure the order and those that are intended merely as the first of a follow-up series or campaign. which to use will depend upon the nature and cost of your proposition. a simple, low-priced article may be sold with a single letter--the margin of profit may not warrant more than that. on an expensive, complicated article you cannot hope to do more in the initial letter than win your prospect's interest, or possibly start him toward the dealer who sells your goods. consider first the former. you are to write a single letter and make it an attention-getting, interest-winning, complete, convincing, order-bringing medium. there is no better way to do this than to put yourself in the position of the salesman who must do all these things in a single interview. you really must do more than the salesman, but this is the best way to get in your own mind the proper attitude toward your prospect. say to yourself, "i am now going into this man's office. he does not know me and does not know i am coming. this is the only chance i have to see him and i shall probably never see him again. i must concentrate all my knowledge of my proposition on this one selling talk and must tell him everything i can about it that will make him want to buy. i must say it in such a way that he will clearly understand; i must give him a good reason for buying today and i must make it easy for him to do so." then picture yourself in his office, seated beside his desk and proceed to _talk_ to him. above all, keep in mind that you are talking to _one_ man. no matter if your letter is to go to ten thousand people, each letter is individual. remember, it goes to one person. so when you write it, aim directly at one person. and _see_ him in your mind's eye. get as clear an idea as you can of the class your letter is going to and then picture the average man in that class. the best way is to pick out some friend or acquaintance who most nearly represents the class you want to reach and write the letter to him. you'll be surprised how much easier it is when you have a definite person in mind. and your letter will then be sure to have that much desired "personal touch." of prime importance in this single sales letter is the close, the clincher. your one big purpose is to get the order, and no matter how clever you may be three-fourths of the way through, if the letter falls short of clinching the order in the end, it may as well not have been written at all. here is an excellent example of one of these complete letters. note particularly the summing up, the guarantee offer and how easy the writer makes it to order: how to get a position and how to hold it is the title of a little book that business men and editors say is the most sensible and helpful thing ever printed on its subject contains the boiled-down experience of years. written by an expert correspondent and high-salaried writer of business literature who has hunted positions for himself, who has been all along the road up to places where he, in turn, has advertised for employees, read their letters, interviewed and engaged them--who is now with a company employing of both sexes and all grades from the $ a week office boy to a $ a week specialist. how to get a position and how to hold it treats of what one should be able to do before expecting to find a good position; takes up the matter of changes; advises how long to hold the old position; tells what kind of a new position to try for; explains the various ways of getting positions; suggests how the aid of prominent people can be enlisted; shows the kind of endorsements that count; teaches how to _write letters of application that command attention_; gives hints on preparing for the interview and on how to make the best impression; tells what should be done when you are selected for a position and take up your duties; deals with the question of salary before and after the engagement; with the bugbear of experience; the matter of hours; and gives pages of horse-sense on a dozen other important topics. the clear instructions for writing strong letters of application, and the model letters shown, are alone worth the price of the book. not one in a hundred--even among the well- educated--can write a letter of application that convinces. _how many of yours fail?_ the engagement usually depends on the interview; and the interview cannot, as a rule, be obtained without the impressive letter. consequently, the letter is of tremendous importance. if you carry out the suggestions set down in plain language in this little book, you can hardly fail to land a position. and i am offering the book for _twenty-five cents a copy_. just think of it! the principles and plans outlined in its pages have been the means of securing high-salaried positions for its author and for others, and this valuable information is yours for the price of five car rides. this is my offer: send me a -cent piece in the enclosed coin-card, or twenty-five cents in stamps, and i'll mail you a copy of how to get a position and how to hold it. if, after reading the book, you do not feel it is worth many times its cost, just tell me so and return the copy in good condition. i'll send your money back without any quibbling. could any offer be fairer? order today--now. next week there may come to your notice an opening that may be the chance of a lifetime--when my little book will be worth its weight in gold. besides, it tells how to create openings when none are advertised. you need not write me a letter. just write your full name and address on the back of this sheet and wrap your stamps up in it, or put your name and address on the coin-card after you have enclosed the -cent piece. i'll understand. write plainly. i am selling the book so cheaply that i cannot afford to have any copies go astray in the mails. yours truly, [signature: charles black] * * * * * now as to the other kind of original sales letter--the one that is merely the first of a series of three or more letters skillfully planned to build up interest until the climax, the purchasing point is reached. this letter is really a combination of the two kinds. if you can land the order with the first letter, you want to, of course. but you know you can expect to do this only in a small percentage of cases. so while you must put into the initial letter enough information to make your proposition clear and must give at least one good reason for buying, you must keep good convincing sales talk in reserve for the succeeding letters. and you must plan this first letter so that the re-enforcements to follow will logically support your introduction. this can best be illustrated by a clever first letter from a very successful series. the manufacturer of a $ fireless cooker planned a letter campaign to induce hardware dealers and department stores to buy a stock of his product. the first sales letter of the series scored strongly on one or two points and at the same time paved the way for the second letter: dear sir: are you ready for the woman who wants a fireless cooker but can't pay ten or fifteen dollars? the aggressive advertising done by the manufacturers of fireless cookers and the immense amount of reading matter published in women's magazines about the fireless method of cooking has stirred up a big demand. but just figure out how many of your customers can't afford to pay $ , $ or $ . think of the sales that could be made with a thoroughly reliable cooker at $ --one that you could feel safe in standing back of. it's here! we had the $ -idea, and we worked out the prettiest cooker you ever saw at any price. but we got together one day and figured out that the big market was for a low-priced cooker that every woman could buy. how to get a jenkins-quality cooker, one that a retailer would be proud to sell, down to the retail price of $ was the question. but we figured our manufacturing up into the tens of thousands, and the enclosed folder tells about the result. our advertising next month in the woman's home companion, ladies' home journal, ladies' world, good housekeeping, everybody's, cosmopolitan and mcclures will do big things for you if you have the jenkins $ fireless cooker in your window. we have a good sized stock on hand but they won't last long the way orders are coming in from far-sighted retailers. how would a dozen do as a starter for you? yours truly, [signature: black & black] * * * * * a letter of this kind should be effective because it gives enough information to make a sale in case the reader is an unusually good prospect, and at the same time it lays a good foundation for the second letter. are you willing to make more money on soap? yes, we suppose you are carrying many soaps, but when a distinctive soap is advertised as thoroughly as we are advertising wesinod, it actually creates new trade, and of course you aren't sorry to see new faces in the store. wesinod soap has the curative and beneficial effects of resinol ointment, which is now used so extensively by the medical profession. wesinod soap is more than a cleanser: it is a restorer, preserver and beautifier of the skin, and as such is attracting the favorable attention of women. enclosed is a reproduction of our advertisement in the magazines this month and a list of the magazines in which the copy appears. we are educating , , readers to feel the need of wesinod soap. a supply of our liberal samples and a trial order to be used in a window display will show you the possibilities. may we send samples and a trial gross? yours for more soap money, wesinod soap company * * * * * _this is a strong selling letter that interests the reader, disarms his natural objection to adding an additional line of soap and presents briefly convincing reasons for stocking with wesinod. while this letter is intended to get the order, it effectively paves the way for further correspondence_ * * * * * it is unnecessary to take up here the elements that should go into the sales letter--attention, interest, argument, proof, persuasion, inducement and the clincher. but it is well to emphasize three points that are especially important in the original letter in the series: confidence, price and the close. you may be sure, that unless you win the confidence of your prospect from the start, your whole campaign is going to be a waste of time, paper and postage. distrust and prejudice, once started, are hard things to overcome by mail, particularly when you are a concern or individual unknown to the man to whom you are writing. dear sir: ''if your magazine pulls as well as the blank monthly i will give you a twelve-page contract.'' that remark wasn't meant for our ears, but one of our solicitors couldn't help overhearing it. it was made by a prominent advertiser, too. we wish we could give his name, but when we asked permission to quote he smiled and said he'd rather not. so, we'll have to refer you to our advertising pages. but the remark speaks pretty well for the blank monthly, doesn't it? it's not surprising, though. the blank monthly goes into , homes. it is taken and read by the best class of technical, scientific and mechanically inclined men, representing one of the choicest classes of buyers in america. our subscribers are great buyers of things by mail. dozens of our advertisers have proved it. they don't sell shoddy or cheap goods, either. that's why we believe your advertising will pay in the blank monthly. if we didn't believe it, we shouldn't solicit your business. try your copy in the june issue, which goes to press on april -- last form may . if you send copy today, you will be sure to get in. very truly yours, [signature: m. o. williams] * * * * * _the quoted language gives the opening of this letter an interesting look. the first three paragraphs are strong. the fourth paragraph is merely assertive, and is weak. a fact or two from some advertiser's experience would be much better_ * * * * * and so with this in mind, be careful of the tone of your letter. be earnest, make reasonable statements, appeal to the intelligence or the experience of the reader and deal with specific facts rather than with mere assertions or claims. there is no inspiration to confidence in the time-worn claims of "strongest," "best," and "purest". tell the facts. instead of saying that an article is useful in a dozen different ways, mention some of the ways. when you declare that the cylinder of your mine pump is the best in the world, you are not likely to be believed; the statement slips off the mind like the proverbial water from a duck's back. but when you say that the cylinder is made of close-grained iron thick enough to be rebored, if necessary, you have created a picture that does not call for doubt. but watch out that you don't start an argument. brander mathews gives us a great thought when he says that "controversy is not persuasion." don't write a letter that makes the reader feel that he is being argued into something. give him facts and suggestions that he can't resist; let him feel that he has convinced himself. this paragraph fails of its purpose, simply because it argues. you can almost picture the writer as being "peevish" because his letters haven't pulled: "this stock is absolutely the safest and most staple you could buy. it will positively pay regular dividends. we stand back of these statements. you must admit, therefore, that it is a good buy for you. so why do you hesitate about buying a block of it?" * * * * * on the other hand, this appeals to the investor because it has genuine proof in it: "no stockholder of ours has lost a dollar through fluctuation in the price of the stock, though we have been doing business for fifteen years. our stock has been readily salable at all times. no dividend period has ever been missed. the quarterly dividend has never been less than - / per cent. during the depression of - our stock maintained itself at per cent above par when other industrial stocks were dropping to par or below. surely, here is an investment worth your investigation." * * * * * telling specific facts helps to produce conviction as well as to create confidence. not every one is a genius in the handling of words, but every writer of a letter that is to bristle with conviction must use his imagination. he must put himself mentally in the place of the typical customer he is addressing and use the arguments and facts that would convince him. the writer should try to see himself enjoying the foods or service--picture his satisfaction. then he has a better chance of reproducing his picture in the mind of the reader. for instance, read this paragraph of idle assertions: "buy our hams once and you will buy them always. all of our meat is from young hogs, and is not tough, but is high-grade. nothing but corn-fed stock is used. we guarantee the quality. we use good sugar in curing our hams, the best quality of saltpeter and some salt. the result is a natural flavor that can't be beat. we challenge competition." * * * * * and now contrast it with this real description of the same product, calculated to create confidence in the trademark it bears: "this mark certifies that the hog came from good stock, that it was corn-fed in order that it might be firm and sweet--that it was a barrow hog, so that the meat would be full-flavored and juicy--that it was a young hog, making the ham thin-skinned and tender--well-conditioned and fat, insuring the lean of the ham to be tasty and nutritious. the mark certifies that the ham was cured in a liquor nearly good enough to drink, made of granulated sugar, pure saltpeter and only a very little salt; this brings out all the fine, rich, natural flavor of the carefully selected meat, and preserves it without 'salty pickling.'" * * * * * note how much more graphic the second paragraph is than the first, and every statement is backed up by a logical reason. the testimony of other people, especially of those in positions of authority and those who would not be suspected of bias, has much convincing power. there is nothing in the contention that "testimonials are out of date." they constitute the strongest kind of support. but get testimonials that really say something. the man who writes and says that he got out of the book he bought from you an idea that enabled him to make a profit of $ the first week, says a thousand times more than the man who writes and merely says that he was pleased with his purchase. let price come in the letter just about where it would come in an oral canvass. the skillful salesman of high-priced shirts doesn't talk about the $ price until he has shown the shirt and impressed the customer. if price is the big thing--is lower than the reader is likely to imagine it would be--it may be made the leading point and introduced at the outset, but unless it is an attraction, it should be held back until strong description has prepared the reader for the price. the method of payment and delivery must be treated effectively in the closing paragraphs. the following plans all have their use: offer to send on free trial for ten days or longer; offer to send for free examination, payment to be made to express agent when examination has shown article to be satisfactory; offer to send on small payment, the small payment to be a guarantee against trifling, balance payable on examination; offer to sell on easy-payment plan; offer to sell for cash but with strong refunding guarantee; offer to supply article through local dealer on reader's authorization. with such an authorization, the advertiser has a good opening to stock the retailer. the price feature offers one of the best opportunities to give the letter real inducement. if the price is in any sense a special price, make it clear that it is. sometimes you can hang your whole letter on this one element. reduced price, if the reduction is set forth logically, is a strong feature. one publisher uses it in this fashion: "we have just sets of these books to sell at $ . . when the new edition is in, it will be impossible to get a set at less than $ . the old edition is just as good as the new, but we are entirely out of circular matter describing the green cloth binding, and as we don't want to print a new lot of circulars just to sell sets, we make this unusual offer. now is your chance." * * * * * advance in price is almost as strong. it's a lever to quick action: "on the st of october the rate of the messenger will go up to one dollar a line. if you place your order before the thirtieth of this month you can buy space to be used any time before january next at seventy-five cents a line. after the thirtieth, positively no orders will be accepted at less than one dollar a line. as a matter of fact our circulation entitles us to a dollar a line right now. "don't let this letter be covered up on your desk. attend to this matter now, or instruct your advertising agent to reserve space for you, and get a big bargain." * * * * * price, in this case is, in fact, a part of the close. it spurs the reader to "order now." setting a time limit, in which a proposal holds good, is also a strong closer. a large book publisher finds it effective to make a discount offer good if accepted within a certain number of days. guarantee offers are strong. don't content yourself with the old "absolutely guaranteed" expression. be definite. "order this buggy, and if, at the end of a month, you are not entirely satisfied that it is the biggest buggy value you ever had for the money, just write me, and i'll take the buggy back without quibbling. could any offer be fairer? i make it because i've sold of these buggies since january, and so far no man has asked for his money back." the sum-up is as important a part of the sales letter as it is of the lawyer's speech or brief. it should concentrate the whole strength of the letter at the close, as, for instance: "so you see that though our machine is apparently high-priced it is really cheaper by the year than another machine. our offer of a free trial right in your own plant gives you absolute protection. it is quite natural, of course, for us to be desirous of getting your order, but we do not see how you can, from your own point of view, afford not to put the bismarck in your factory." * * * * * and finally, help the prospect buy. the sales letter designed to bring the order must provide an easy method of ordering. in the first place, a great many people do not understand how to order. to others, making out an order is a task that is likely to be postponed. by making it easy for the reader to fill out a blank with a stroke or two of the pen, while the effect of the letter is strong, a great many orders will be secured that would otherwise be lost. it should be axiomatic that if a letter is expected to pull business through the mails it must place before the recipient every facility for making it easy and agreeable to reply and reply now. how this can best be done will be taken up more fully in a separate chapter on "making it easy to answer." one thing to remember particularly in the case of the original sales letter is that if possible it should have a definite scheme behind it. a reason for the offer, a reason for the letter itself. a safe-deposit vault was well advertised by sending out letters that contained a special pass to the vault with the name of the reader filled in. of course the letter gave a pressing invitation to call and allow the custodian to show the vault's interesting features. still another clever letter soliciting rentals of safe-deposit boxes proposed that in case the reader now had a box elsewhere, they would take the lease off his hands. in reality they merely gave him free rental until his other lease expired, but the scheme was cleverly planned. a buggy maker wrote enclosing duplicate specifications of a buggy he had just had made for his own personal use, and suggested that he would have another made for the reader exactly like it and turned under the same careful supervision. letters that give the reader something or offer to give him something have similar effect. the letter about a new facial cream will command extra attention because of the small sample of the cream enclosed. in fact, one cold cream company finds it an effective plan to send a sample and a sales letter to druggists' mailing lists or to names taken from telephone books, telling the reader in the final paragraph that the cream can be purchased at the local drug store. a letter offering a sample can of a high-grade coffee for the name of the reader's favorite grocer will bring a good response and afford the advertiser a strong hold on the grocer. a favorite method of securing savings depositors is to send a good "savings letter" that offers a free home-savings bank or a vest-pocket saver. even calendars may be given out more effectively by sending a letter and telling the reader that a good calendar has been saved for him and asking him to call at the office. a striking paragraph of a real estate dealer's soliciting letter is one that asserts that the dealer has a client with the cash who wants just about such a house as the reader of the letter owns. a real estate dealer, whose specialty is farms, has this telling sentence in his original letter: "somewhere there is a man who will buy your farm at a good price; i should like to find that man for you." there is hardly a product or a proposition that does not offer opportunity to put some scheme behind the letter. and such a plan doubles the appeal of the original sales letter. but once more, remember, not to put all your ammunition into the first letter. be prepared to come back in your second and third letters, not simply with varied repetitions, but with more reasons for buying. make your first letter as strong as you can, but at the same time--pave the way. the letter that will bring an _inquiry_ part v--writing the sales letter--chapter _comparatively few propositions can be sold in the first letter; in most campaigns it is enough to stimulate a man's interest and get him to reply. this chapter gives specific schemes that have proved successful in pulling answers--in making an opening for the heavy artillery of the follow-up_ * * * * * think what a problem you would have if you started out as a salesman to sell a certain article with no definite idea of where to find your prospects. you might interview a hundred men before you found one who was interested. that would be pretty slow and pretty expensive selling, wouldn't it? and think what it would mean if you were to send out broadcast a thousand expensive booklets and follow-up letters only to receive one reply from the one man with whom you effected a point of contact. that, too, would be a prohibitively costly method of selling. yet one or both these methods would in many cases be necessary were it not for the inquiry-bringing letter. the inquiry letter is a "feeler"--the advance agent of the selling campaign. it goes broadcast to find and put its finger on the man who is interested or who can be interested, and his reply labels him as the man whom it is worth while for your salesman to see, or, who is at least worth the expense and endeavor of a follow-up series. the inquiry letter is like the advertisement which asks you to send for a catalogue or booklet. the advertisement writer believes that if you are interested enough to write for the booklet, you will be interested enough to read his sales letters, and possibly become a purchaser. it is the same with the inquiry-bringing letter. it is simply a sieve for sifting out the likely prospects from the great mass of persons, who for many reasons cannot be brought around into a buying mood concerning your proposition. the great advantage of the letter which induces the recipient to express his interest in an inquiry, is that you not only make him put himself unconsciously under an obligation to read further details, but you give time for the thoughts that you have started to get in their work. the fact that a man has decided to ask for more information and has put that decision in writing is of considerable psychological value. the one thing the salesman hopes to find, and the one thing the letter writer strives to create, is a receptive mood on the part of his prospect. the moment a man answers the inquiry-letter, he has put himself into a frame of mind where he waits for and welcomes your subsequent sales talk. he looks forward with some interest to your second letter. at first there was just one person to the discussion. now there are two. in this respect the letter is like the magazine advertisement. give all the details of a $ piano in an advertisement of ordinary size, quoting the price at the close, and it is extremely unlikely to bring the reader to the point of deciding that he will buy the piano. it is better to deal with some point of interest about the piano and offer a fine piano book free. and right here it is worthy of mention that interesting books with such titles as "how to select a piano," "how to make money in real estate," "bank stocks as an investment," or "the way to have a beautiful complexion," make letters as well as advertisements draw inquiries of a good class. in other words, offer an inducement, give your man a _reason_ for answering. when you have written a letter calculated to draw inquiries, put yourself in the position of the man who is to get it and read it through from his standpoint. ask yourself whether _you_ would answer it if you received it. test it for a reason, an inducement, and see if it has the pulling power you want it to have. if you are offering a book, for example, impress the reader with the real value of the book, magnify its desirability in his mind. a paper company does this admirably when it writes: "the new condax specimen book is a beautiful thing--not a mere book of paper samples, understand, but a collection of art masterpieces and hand-lettered designs, printed with rare taste on the various kinds of condax papers. many have told us it is the finest example of printing they have ever seen come from the press. "we feel sure you would treasure the book just for its artistic merits, but we are not sending you one now because there is such a tremendous demand for it that we do not like to chance having a single copy go astray and we want yours to reach you personally. we are holding it for you and the enclosed card will bring it, carefully wrapped, by return mail." * * * * * of course such a book must be designed to do the proper work when it gets into the hands of the reader. it is a mistake to tell a great deal in the inquiry-bringing letter, unless you can reasonably hope to close a sale. a man will act on impulse in ordering a dollar article, but he isn't likely to be impulsive about an insurance policy. if you give him the entire canvass on an insurance policy at the first shot, it will have to be of extraordinary interest and convincing power to close the sale. the subject is new. the prospect has not had a chance to think over the facts. he is suspicious of your power; afraid of hastiness on his own part. he is likely to give himself the canvass and decide "no," before giving you any further chance. appeal to curiosity. arouse interest and leave it unsatisfied. remember that your inquiry letter is a definite part of your campaign. therefore it must be consistent with what is to follow and must pave the way naturally for it. seek replies only from those who can use and can afford to buy the article you have to sell. a maker of a specialty machine got out an inquiry letter along this line: "if you are tired of a salaried job, if you want to get into a big-paying, independent business of your own. i have a proposition that will interest you." * * * * * of course he got a big percentage of replies, for what man does not want a big-paying, independent business of his own? but when in his follow-up letter he stated his proposition, offering state rights to his machine for $ , , he shot over the heads of per cent of the men who had answered his first letter. his inquiry letter had completely failed of its purpose. it was not selective, it was general. dear sir: i should like to have you consider buying the enclosed series of talks on advertising for use in your paper. i am an expert advertising man and i have spent a great deal of time and energy on these talks. i know that they will produce results that will be very satisfactory to you for they are based on the real experience of an expert. the price of these talks--that is, the right to use the talks and illustrations in your city--is $ , which you must admit is dirt cheap, considering the quality of the matter. all the progressive publishers are jumping at the chance to get these talks at the low price i am quoting them. if you do not accept my offer, one of your competitors will certainly do so, and you will lose prestige. hoping to hear from you at once and promising careful attention to your valued favors, i am truly yours, [signature: g. l. lawrence] * * * * * _this letter has an unfortunate beginning. the writer starts by considering his own interests rather than those of the publisher. it is not tactful to begin with "i want-to-sell-you-something" talk. the second paragraph is merely an egotistic statement. no facts are furnished to impress the publisher. in the third paragraph price is introduced before desire is created. the fourth paragraph is a palpable boast that will not be believed and an insinuation that the publisher addressed may not be progressive. the suggestion about the competitor is likely to arouse antagonism. the close is hackneyed and the entire letter is rather an advertisement of the writer's inability rather than of his ability_ * * * * * do not deceive. nothing is gained by deception in a high grade venture. your offer to give away a first-class lot in a first-class suburban real estate campaign will make a good class of readers suspicious of you. and though you may get many inquiries from those who are looking for something for nothing, the chances are that the inquiries will be of a very poor quality. better get two per cent of first-class prospects than ten per cent that will only waste your time. you must not forget that it costs money to solicit people either by mail or by salesmen. how to increase your advertising receipts [sidenote: heading and first sentence introduce a subject of vital interest to publishers.] what would it be worth to you to have a dozen more local advertisers buying your space regularly? [sidenote: facts and arguments which show that the writer knows conditions.] how much money would it mean to have in the paper regularly just a few of those who advertise poorly and spasmodically for a short time, then drop out and whine that "advertising doesn't pay?" [sidenote: as he has had such wide experience he understands the situation and his words carry conviction--touch a tender spot with every publisher.] i know your problems. i have had soliciting experience as well as broad copywriting experience. i served three years on the advertising staff of the baltimore news--the paper for which mr. munsey recently paid $ , , . i know how hard it is to get a certain class of local advertisers started. i know how hard it is to keep them going after they once start. of course you know why some advertisers come in the paper but won't stay. they can't see where their money comes back, and the plain truth is that often it doesn't come back simply because these advertisers don't advertise intelligently. your solicitors are not all skillful copywriters. soliciting ability and copy-writing ability rarely go together. even if your solicitors were all good copy-writers, they wouldn't have time to study each advertiser's proposition exhaustively. but if you expect to keep your advertising receipts up to the high-water mark, you can't always do all soliciting and no helping. you must assist the advertiser to get the full value of the money he spends with you. how? this letter answers the question. [sidenote: clear and logical.] read the attached secrets of successful advertising. they are short, but they are interesting and they are practical. note the plain examples of the good and the bad. these talks will encourage advertisers to begin and will help those who come in to get the worth of their money. if you sent all of your customers and prospective customers a book on advertising--even if a suitable one were available--it might insult some. perhaps only a few would read it thoroughly. besides, it would probably cost you a hundred dollars. these short talks can be used on days when you are not pushed for space. you can see that they look readable. they can be read in a minute or two. the cost is insignificant, considering the results that are sure to come from this campaign of education. suppose only two or three new patrons came in as the result; you would get back your little investment over and over. who will educate your customers and prospective customers if you don't? [sidenote: an effective, confident close that commands respect and consideration.] i do not urge you. just read the articles. i know what you, as a progressive publisher, will think of them. let me hear from you as soon as convenient, for if you do not want the service, i shall want to offer it elsewhere. you are the only publisher in your city to whom i am now offering the service. i enclose stamp for the return of the sheets in the event that you do not keep them. yours for more and better advertising. [signature: m. b. andrews] * * * * * the question of how to open your inquiry letter is a big one. good beginnings are as varied as the proposition which the letter presents. the straight question usually commands attention. "do you get the best price for your goods?" "are you securing all the advertising patronage to which you are entitled?" "couldn't you use an extra pair of good trousers?" "do you collect per cent of your accounts?" openings of this kind rivet attention. with some letter-writers, the direct command style of opening is popular: "get more advertising. how? this letter answers the question." "wear tailor-made clothes at the price of ready-made." "make your money earn you six per cent." if these openings are chosen with the care that the advertising man uses in selecting headings for advertisements, attention will be secured. gentlemen: your easiest profits are those you make by saving expense. there is one way you can save rent; save wages; save damage to samples and still sell more goods. install a patent extension display rack in any department you like-- picture, linen, notions, sporting goods, etc., and you will add square feet of display for every foot you use. you will enable one salesman to do the work of two. you will save the time your salesmen now spend in getting out goods and putting them away. you will prevent the samples from becoming soiled. don't take the trouble to write us a letter, just pencil on the foot of this the name of the manager of the department you would like to begin with, and we will explain all about these display racks to him. yours very truly, [signature: smith and deene] p.s. marshall field & co., of chicago, bought the first extension display rack we sold and they have been buying ever since. their last order just received amounts to nearly a thousand dollars. can you afford not to investigate? * * * * * _the reference to easy profits at once interests every business man and the method of saving rent, saving wages and increasing sales is certain to be investigated. the third paragraph presents good argument--short and to the point. the letter is extremely easy to answer--just a few words with a pencil and that is all. proof of the merit of the article in its satisfactory use by a large wholesale house is cleverly brought out in the postscript_ * * * * * another good way to win the interest of the prospect is to offer to help him in his buying in some specific way. a firm selling diamonds by mail, for instance, does it in this fashion: "unless you are an experienced judge of precious stones, it is almost impossible to buy a diamond at random and be certain of getting value for your money. but you need not take chances. our best expert has written a booklet telling just how to determine diamond value, how to detect flaws, and explaining the choicest cuttings. whether or not you buy of us, this little book will be of inestimable value to you in buying stones. we will be glad to send you a copy for the asking." * * * * * still other writers follow the declarative form of opening. "allison preferred has advanced to in a week." "yesterday we sold for $ , cash a property that was put in our hands only tuesday." but inasmuch as the declarative form lacks a little of the inherent interest of the question or the command, it should deal with some point of particular "interest value" to the class addressed. style and interest value are just as important in the letter that is to draw an inquiry as in the letter designed to make a sale. some think that just because a letter is fairly certain to reach a man if properly addressed, it is easy to get a reply. far from it. unless there is a good reason for a man answering a letter, he isn't going to do it. suppose that a furniture dealer, on receiving a new stock of furniture, writes a letter like this to a list of several hundred women: "our fall stock of furniture arrived on saturday and is now on exhibition on our third floor. the showing is unsurpassed. here you will find something to suit you, whether you wish oak, mahogany, walnut or birch. we invite you to pay us a call." * * * * * some who would probably have come anyway may come in response to such a letter or may write for special information. but a letter of this kind is sure to bring results: dear mrs. brown: i remember that when you purchased the mahogany bed last march you expressed a desire to buy a dresser that would match. in the new lot of furniture that we put on our floors only yesterday are several dressers that would match your piece perfectly. come in and see them. i should like you to see also the dressing tables and chairs that match your dresser, even if you are not ready just now to get an entire set. * * * * * the first letter has little point to it. the second has personality and interest, and if signed by the salesman that sold the first piece of mahogany, is certain to bring the customer in if anything would. a strong method of closing letters of this sort is to have final paragraphs of this style: "may we tell you more? this won't put you under the least obligation. if we can't show you that it is to your interest to take up this matter, it is our fault--not yours. mail the card now and let us put all the facts before you." a post card or a postal card should be enclosed in all inquiry- bringing letters. the request for further details should be printed, so that the prospect has only to sign his name and mail the card. in other words, make it easy for the prospect to answer. another thing, don't print anything on the card that will make it appear that the prospect is committing himself. paragraphs of this sort have proved effective: "without committing myself, i give you permission to furnish me full information about the subject mentioned in your letter." the card method is particularly good if the inquiry is to be followed up by a solicitor, for the card may be sent conveniently to the solicitor who will take it with him when he calls. it sometimes pays to have all the inquiries from a territory sent on cards addressed to a certain solicitor, though the inquirer may think at the time of inquiring that the one whose name appears on the card merely is the correspondent that wrote the letter. the advantage is that a prospect who sends in a card addressed to "mr. h. e. carrington, care of the smith publishing company," has seen mr. carrington's name. when mr. carrington calls, the inquirer is sometimes flattered to think that the gentleman has been sent from the home office. as he has written a card to mr. carrington, he cannot with good grace deny an interview. the man who writes and offers to do something without putting the least obligation on the inquirer who accepts the offer is hard to turn down. a writer of advertisements, after a courteous criticism on advertisements that he doesn't like, closes in this way: "i think i can show that it is to your interest to use some copy of my construction. if i can't, certainly it won't be your fault. may i show you what i think is a more profitable way of advertising these goods? if when you see my copy you are not more than satisfied to pay my bill, there won't be any ill-feeling on my part. the decision will rest with you." * * * * * the inquiry bringing letter what it must do stimulate interest awake desire for further information give reason for answering make inducement for answering pave way for follow up call for immediate action what it must not do arouse idle curiosity create exaggerated ideas give full particulars misrepresent proposition waste arguments close way for further letters * * * * * a townsite company, selling town lots by mail, uses a device that gets replies when ordinary requests would be disregarded. as the close of a three-page form letter this paragraph is used: "we enclose letter that the railway company wrote us. please return it in the enclosed stamped envelope, and tell us what you think of our plan." * * * * * the next sheet following is a facsimile letter from a prominent railway official commending the plan, so making it easy for the prospect to add a few words of commendation. this is a clever scheme to coax a reply out of the prospect--and it is certain that he carefully reads the letter from the railroad company before he returns it. no matter what the nature of his letter it gives an opportunity for a personal reply. a clothing manufacturer has an effective method of drawing out a fresh inquiry or indication of interest from his mailing list by inquiring what satisfaction the reader got out of the last suit ordered, asking a criticism of service if the buyer has any to make, saying that anything that was wrong will be made right. writers of investment letters have found that it pays to emphasize the fact that only a small lot of stock is available. if the letter leads the prospect to believe that barrels of the stock will be sold, the effect will be prejudicial. the "limited quantity" idea is effective in selling other things. an investment letter that brought good results where the signer of the letter knew all those to whom the letter was sent made the statement that four or five shares of stock had been put aside for the prospect. practically no more information was given in the letter, but full information was offered on receipt of request. the request gave opportunity for the salesman to call. this "putting aside" idea may be applied to clothing and other commodities. its efficiency lies in the fact that it gives a definite point to the letter. in the letter that angles for an inquiry, do not tell too much. whet the appetite and arouse the curiosity. make them hungry to learn all about it, make them come back like oliver twist and ask for more. but it is fatal to paint a proposition in such brilliant colors that there is a chance for disappointment when the prospect gets his additional information. nor should an offer of a free booklet or free samples be made so alluring that the letter will be answered out of idle curiosity when the recipient is really not a prospect at all. schemes without number can be devised to get a reply and only enough should be put in such a letter to stimulate a reply, saving up the real arguments and the big talking points for the letter that aims on getting the actual order. how to _close_ sales by letter part v--writing the sales letter--chapter _suppose that your most obstinate "prospect"--a man in the next block on whom your cleverest salesman had used every tactic and had been rewarded only by polite turn-downs until he had lost hope-- should call up some afternoon and ask you to send over a salesman. would you despatch the office boy? or would you send your star salesman? yet if that prospect lived a hundred miles away and sent in a letter of inquiry, one out of two firms would entrust the reply to a second or third-rate correspondent--entirely forgetful that an inquiry is merely a clue to a sale, and not a result in itself. this chapter shows how to_ get the order _by letter_ * * * * * the man who inquires about your goods isn't "sold" by a long ways. he is simply giving you an opportunity to sell him. inquiries aren't _results_, they're simply _clues_ to possible sales, and if you are going to follow those clues up and make sales out of them, you need the best men you can find and the best letters those men can turn out to do it. inquiries of good quality are costly, frequently several times as costly as the advertiser figures in advance that he can afford to pay. yet, strange to say, many advertisers will employ $ or $ -a-week ability to write advertisements that will produce inquiries and then expect $ or $ men to turn them into sales. as a matter of fact nine times out of ten the hardest part of the transaction is to close the sale. an inquiry is merely an expression of interest. the reader of the advertisement says, in effect, "all right, i'm impressed. go ahead and show me." or, if he hasn't written in reply to an advertisement, he sends an inquiry and invites the manufacturer or dealer to tell what he has. to get the highest possible proportion of sales from each hundred inquiries, requires that the correspondent be as skillful in his written salesmanship as the successful man behind the counter is with his oral canvass and his showing of the goods. if the truth were known, it is lack of appreciation of this point that discourages most concerns trying to sell by mail, and it is the real secret of a large percentage of failures. a clock manufacturer notified the advertising manager of one of the big magazines that he had decided to discontinue his advertising. "the inquiries we get from your magazine," he wrote, "don't pan out." the advertising manager thought he saw the reason why and he made a trip down to the factory to investigate. reports showed that in two months his magazine had pulled over inquiries, yet out of that number just seven prospects had been sold. "will you let me see your follow-up letters?" he asked. they were brought out, and the advertising manager almost wept when he read them. awkward, hackneyed, blundering notes of acknowledgment, they lacked even the merest suggestion of salesmanship. they would kill rather than nourish the interest of the average prospect. he sent the set of letters up to the service bureau of his magazine and a new series of strong convincing letters, such as the clock deserved, were prepared. on the strength of these he got the advertiser back in and the next month out of inquiries, forty-six clocks were sold. think of the actual loss that manufacturer suffered simply because he did not really appreciate that inquiries aren't sales! get this firmly in mind and then get the proper attitude toward the inquirer. there is a big difference between the original sales letter and the answer to the inquiry. you haven't got to win his interest now. you've got that. but you have got to hold it and develop it to the buying point. your man has asked you something; has given you the chance to state your case. now state it in the most complete, convincing way you know how. dear sir: we are pleased to receive your request for "wilson's accounting methods," and a copy goes forward by today's mail. do not fail to notify us if it fails to reach you within a day of the receipt of this letter. your attention is particularly called to the descriptive matter on pages to , inclusive. we are confident that among the forty stock record forms there illustrated and described you will find a number that will save time and labor in your office. you will see that our stock forms are carried in two sizes-- by - / inches and by inches, the smaller size being furnished at $ a thousand and the larger size at $ . a thousand, assorted as you desire. should you desire special forms to meet your individual requirements, we can furnish them to order, printed from your copy, on one side of linen-bond stock--your choice of five colors--at $ . a thousand. on pages to you will find complete descriptions and order blanks of our special introductory outfits, ranging in price from $ to $ . we make these attractive offers to enable our customers to select outfits that can be installed at a very small cost, and we ship any of our stock outfits with the distinct understanding that if they are not entirely satisfactory they may be returned to us at our expense. under the liberal conditions we make, you incur no risk in placing an order, and we trust that we may be favored with one from you right away. by purchasing direct from us--the manufacturers--you eliminate all middleman's profits and are sure to get proper service. let us hear from you. very truly yours, [signature: anderson & anderson] * * * * * _a letter that sums up well the principal features of the goods described in detail in the catalogue and the strong points of the manufacturer's plan of selling. the letter is closely linked with the catalogue. such a letter as this is a strong support to the catalogue_ * * * * * a good way to get at this is to put yourself once more in the other man's place. what do _you_ like to get when _you_ answer an advertisement? and how do you like to get it? first of all you like a prompt answer. "i have had some experiences lately," says one business man, "that have made me feel that promptness and careful attention to all of a correspondent's requests are fully as important as the literary part of business correspondence. i am interested in an enterprise in which material of various kinds will be used--sample jars, mailing cases, and so forth. i have been writing to manufacturers in the effort to get samples and prices. "in several cases it really seemed to me as if the manufacturer was trying to test my patience by waiting from three days to a week before answering my letter. several of them forgot to send the samples they referred to in their letters. in other cases the matter of samples was overlooked for a few days after the letter was written or the samples were ordered forwarded from a distant factory without any explanation to me that the samples would be a few days late in arriving. in still other instances references were made to prices and sizes that were not clear, thus necessitating another letter and a further delay of a week or ten days. "as i had to have all the material before i could proceed with any of it, one man's delay tied up the whole job. "really when one has a chance to see the dowdy, indifferent way in which a great many business concerns take care of inquiries and prospective customers, the wonder is that there are so many successes and not more failures. "how refreshing it is to get a reply by return mail from an enterprising man who is careful to label every sample and to give you all the necessary information in complete form and to write in such a way as to make you feel you are going to get prompt, careful service if your order is placed with him. it is a pleasure to send business his way, and we do it, too, whenever we can." it is easy enough to look out for these things when a regular method is adopted. with a catalogue before him, the correspondent should dictate a memorandum, showing what samples or enclosures are to be sent and how each is to be marked. by referring to the memorandum, as he dictates, the references will be clear. cherish both carefulness and promptness. you don't know what you sometimes lose by being a day late. an inquirer often writes to several different concerns. some other correspondent replies by return mail, and the order may be closed before your belated letter gets in its work, particularly if the inquirer is in a hurry--as inquirers sometimes are. you may never learn why you lost the order. when you cannot give full attention to the request immediately, at least write the inquirer and tell how you will reply fully in a day or so or whenever you can. if you can truthfully say so, tell him that you have just what he wants and ask him to wait to get your full information before placing his order. in this way you may hold the matter open. dear sir: replying to your esteemed favor of recent date would say that we have noted your request for a sample of royal mixture and that same has been forwarded. this tobacco is absolutely without question the finest smoking tobacco on the market today. this statement will be substantiated by tens of thousands of smokers. we hope to receive your valued order at an early date and remain truly yours, [signature: brown & co.] * * * * * _the first paragraph of this letter is so hackneyed that it takes away all personality, and there is nothing in the second paragraph to build up a picture in the reader's mind of an enjoyable tobacco_ * * * * * now as to the style and contents of your letter, here's one thing that goes a long way. be cheerful. start your letter by acknowledging his inquiry as though you were glad to get it. "yours of the th received and contents noted," doesn't mean anything. but how about this: "i was glad to find on my desk this morning your letter of the th inquiring about the new model marlin." there's a personal touch and good will in that. a correspondence school answers a prospective student's inquiry like this: "i really believe that your letter of the th, which came to me this morning, will prove to be the most important letter that you ever wrote." an opening such as this clinches the man's interest again and carries him straight through to the end. don't miss an opportunity to score on the start. dear sir: your order for a sample pouch of royal mixture is greatly appreciated. the tobacco was mailed to-day. to appreciate the difference between royal mixture and the "others," just put a little of it on a sheet of white paper by the side of a pinch from a package of any other smoking tobacco manufactured. you won't need a microscope to see the difference in quality. smoke a pipeful and you will quickly notice how different in mellowness, richness and natural flavor royal mixture is from the store-bought kind. if you are not enthusiastic over its excellence i shall feel greatly disappointed. so many discriminating pipe smokers in all sections are praising it that it makes me believe that in "the aristocrat of smoking tobacco" i have produced an article that is in fact the best tobacco money can buy. royal mixture is all pure tobacco, and the cleanest, best-cured and finest leaf that the famous piedmont section of north carolina can produce. the quality is there, and will be kept as long as it is offered for sale. depend upon that. the more you smoke royal mixture the better you'll like it. this is not true of the fancy-named mixtures which owe their short-lived popularity to pretty labels, fancy tin boxes and doctored flavors. i give you quality in the tobacco instead of making you pay for a gold label and tin box. the only way to get it is by ordering from me. royal mixture goes right from factory to your pipe--you get it direct, and know you are getting it just right, moist and fresh. right now, to-day, is the time to order. a supply of royal mixture costs so little and means so much in pipe satisfaction that every hour of delay is a loss to you. it's too good to do without. money refunded promptly if you are not satisfied! if it is not asking too much of you, i would like to hear within a day or two just how the tobacco suits you. will you not write me about it? be critical, as i desire your candid opinion. respectfully yours, [signature: wallace e. lee] * * * * * _the letter is here rewritten, making it interesting from the first line to the last. it makes one feel that royal mixture is something unusually good_ * * * * * second, be sure you _answer_ the inquiry--every point in it. you know how provoked you are when you ask a question and the correspondent in replying fails to answer. be sure you answer all the questions of the inquiries you handle. give letters a final reading, to be sure. it is often advisable to quote the inquirer's questions or to use side-heads so he will understand you refer to the questions he asked. for example, suppose a real estate agent receives an inquiry about a farm. the inquiry can be clearly answered by adopting a style like this: we are very glad to give you details about the abbott farm in prescott county. location.--this farm is on the macadam road between frederick and whittsville, three miles from frederick. there is a flag station on the d. & l. railroad one and a quarter miles from the farm gate on the macadam road. transportation facilities.--there are six trains a day on the d. & l. road that will stop at the flag station mentioned. these trains give a four-hour service to baltimore. * * * * * this style of letter is a great aid to the writer in bringing related points together and thus strengthening description and argument. if the inquiry involves the sending of a catalogue, hook the letter and the enclosure together by specific references. it adds immensely to the completeness of your letter. and don't be afraid to repeat. no matter what is in the catalogue or booklet that is sent along with the letter, the letter should review concisely some of the most important points. the average person will pay closer attention to what is said in the letter than to what appears in the catalogue. the letter looks more personal. for example: on page you will see described more fully the cedar chest that we advertise in the magazines. pages to describe higher-priced chests. all these chests are of perfect workmanship and have the handsome dull egg-shell finish. the higher-priced models have the copper bands and the big-headed nails. use the order blank that appears on page of the catalogue, and be sure to read the directions for ordering that appear on page . * * * * * these descriptions and references tie the letters strongly to the enclosures and thus unify the entire canvass. the woman who gets a letter telling her that the refrigerator she inquired about is described and illustrated on page of the catalogue sent under separate cover, and then reads some quoted expressions from people in her town or state who have bought these refrigerators, is more likely to order than if a letter is sent, telling her merely that the catalogue has been mailed under separate cover; that it gives a complete description but that any special information will be given on request. the first method of replying makes it appear that the correspondent is enthusiastic about his refrigerators and really wants to sell the inquirer one. the second method is cold and indifferent. if your goods permit the sending of samples by all means enclose some with the letter. they permit the actual handling of the article, which is so great an advantage in selling over the counter. and then insure attention. no man, for example, will throw away a haberdasher's letter referring to spring shirts if samples are enclosed. the samples will get some attention, though the one who received them may not need shirts at the time. samples also give an opportunity to emphasize value. for instance, it is a good plan to say: "take these samples of outings to your local store and see if you can get anything at $ that is half as good as what we are offering you." the fact is, few people make such comparisons, but the invitation to compare is evidence of the advertiser's confidence. for that matter, few people ask for refund of money on honest merchandise, provided the refund is limited to a brief period; but the promise of instant refund when unsatisfactory goods are returned, is a great confidence-creator. it is not always possible for one correspondent to handle the entire inquiry. in that case it is well to let the answer indicate the care exercised in preparing it. a part of a letter may sometimes advantageously refer to some other correspondent who can deal more thoroughly with a technical matter under discussion. a large mail-order concern employs a man who can tell customers in a tactful way just how to make coffee and tea, and he makes satisfied customers out of many who otherwise would believe that they had received inferior goods. this same man is also an expert in adjusting by letter any troubles that may arise over the company's premium clocks, and so forth. unless such technical matters are extensive enough to require a separate letter, they can be introduced into other communications by merely saying: "on reading what you have written about the engine, our expert has this to say:" * * * * * dear sir: your esteemed inquiry has been received, and we are sending you one of our booklets. in case none of the samples suit you, let us know what colors you like and we will send more samples. we can save you money on trousers. a great many of the best dressers of new york and chicago are wearing trousers made by us. you run no risk in ordering, for if the trousers are not as i represent them or do not fit you, we will correct the mistake or refund your money. we urge you to order immediately, as we may not have in stock the patterns you prefer. trusting to receive your order at an early date. truly yours. [signature: edward brown] * * * * * _this letter starts out with a hackneyed opening and not enough emphasis is put on the samples. it is a mistake to make the suggestion that the samples sent may be unsuitable. the third paragraph starts out with an assertion unbacked by proof and the second sentence is a silly boast that no one believes. a man does not pay his tailor the full price until the trousers are completed. it is a weak selling plan to try to persuade a stranger to send the entire price to an advertiser whom he knows nothing about. the plea for an immediate order on the ground that the pattern may not be in stock later is a weak and unfortunate method of argument. the final paragraph is as hackneyed as the first, and fails to impress the reader_ * * * * * dear sir: here you are! this mail will bring you a sample book containing some of the neatest trousers patterns you have seen in a long time. tear off a strand from any of them and hold a match to it; if it doesn't "burn wool" the laugh is on me. you may wonder why i can undersell your local dealer and yet turn out trousers that "make good." certain conditions, of which i shall tell you, make this possible. in the first place, trousers are my specialty. other tailors want suit orders above all, but i have built up my business by specializing on trousers alone. i buy my fabrics from the manufacturers in large quantities at wholesale prices. the saving--the money that represents your retailer's profit--comes to you. i don't need an uptown "diamond-front" store, with an exorbitant rental. instead, i employ the best tailors i can find. the trousers i make are built, not shaped, to fit you. we don't press them into shape with a "goose," either. all our fabrics are shrunk before we cut them at all. sewn throughout with silk, the seams will not rip or give. and style--why, you will be surprised to see that trousers could have so much individuality. i could not afford to sell just one pair of trousers to each man at these prices. it costs me something to reach you--to get your first order. you will order your second pair just as naturally as you would call for your favorite cigar. i am enclosing three samples of $ london woolens. these have just come in--too late to place in the sample book. aren't they beauties? please don't forget that i guarantee to please you or to return your money cheerfully. i ask for the $ with order only to protect myself against triflers. may i look for an early order? yours, for high-grade trousers. [signature: chas r. greene] * * * * * _an interesting beginning, inviting proof of quality. facts show why low prices can be quoted, followed by graphic description and logical argument. the samples give point to the letter and the plain, fair selling plan makes an effective ending_ * * * * * then again, make your letter _clear_. good descriptions are just as important in answers to inquiries as in letters that have the task of both developing interest and closing a sale. all that has been said in previous chapters as to the value of graphic descriptions and methods of writing them applies with full force to this chapter. the letter that is a reply to an inquiry can properly give more detailed and specialized description than a letter that is not a reply to an inquiry, for in writing to one who has inquired the correspondent knows that the reader of the letter is interested and will give attention to details if they are given clearly and attractively. generally speaking, a sales letter that is in response to an inquiry should make it unnecessary for the reader to ask a second time for information before reaching a decision. and this leads to one big important point: do your best to close the sale in this first reply. don't leave loop holes and uncertainties that encourage further correspondence. give your letter an air of finality. lay down a definite buying proposition and then make it easy for your man to accept it. * * * * * what will make reply effective promptness completeness answer all questions give full details clearness make further letters unnecessary label samples plainly definite proposition guarantee of satisfaction make ordering easy inducement for quick action * * * * * guarantees, definite proposals, suggestions to use "the enclosed order blank," are important factors in effective closing paragraphs. don't put too much stress on the fact that you want to give more information. many correspondents actually encourage the inquirer to write again and ask for more information before ordering. try to get the order--not a lot of new questions. experiments show that the interest of an inquirer wanes rapidly after the receipt of the first response. in replying to inquiries, the chance of securing a sale with a third letter is much less than the chance with the first, for after receiving the first letter, if it is unconvincing, the inquirer is likely to come to an adverse decision that cannot afterwards be easily changed. in this respect, answers to inquirers are much like unsolicited letters sent out to non-inquirers and planned to create and build up interest. in a number of lines of business the third letter sent out in response to an inquiry barely pays for itself. for this reason, it is usually poor policy in handling this class of business to withhold some strong argument from the first letter in order to save it for the second or the third. better fire the -inch gun as soon as you have the range. if the first answer fails to land the order, the advertiser may follow up with an easier plan of payment, a smaller lot of the goods, or make some other such inducement. not all goods admit of offering small lots, but when this can be done, the argument may be made that there is no profit in such small orders, that the offer is only made to convince the inquirer of quality. some very successful correspondents close in the direct-command style: "don't delay; send your order now." "sit right down and let us have your order before you forget it." "it isn't necessary to write a letter; just write across the face of this letter 'i accept this trial offer', sign your name and send the sheet back to us in the enclosed envelope." such closing sentences are strong, because the reader is influenced to act immediately, and the loss that usually comes about by reason of people putting things off and forgetting is reduced. the third example is particularly good because it eliminates letter-writing, which is a task to many and something that is often put off until the matter is forgotten. other correspondents, instead of using the direct command style, close in this way: "we are having a big sale on these porch chairs. if you order immediately we can supply you, but we cannot promise to do so if you wait." "we know that if you place your order you will be more than well pleased with your investment." if prices are to be increased on the goods offered, the correspondent has a first-class opportunity to urge an immediate response: "there is just two weeks' time in which you can buy this machine at $ . so you can save $ by acting _immediately_." experience shows that the increased-price argument is a good closer. in the final sentences of the letter should be mentioned the premium or the discount that is given when the order is received before a certain date. these offers are effective closers in many cases. in making them it is well to say "provided your order is placed _in the mails_ not later than the th," for such a date puts all on the same footing no matter how distant they are from the advertiser. finally, don't overlook the opportunity to make even the signature to your letter contribute something. firm signatures are rather lacking in personality. "smith & brown clock co." hasn't much "pull" to it. but when the pen-written name of albert e. brown appears under this signature the letter has much more of the personal appeal. for this reason, many concerns follow the practice of having some one put a personal signature under the firm name. it is not desirable, of course, to have mail come addressed to individuals connected with the firm, but this can be avoided by having return envelopes, addressed to the firm, in every letter. in fact, a little slip may be enclosed reading: "no matter to whom you address an order or letter always address the envelope to the firm. this insures prompt attention." at least one large clothing concern has found it profitable to let its letters go out over such signatures as "alice farrar, for brown & co." those to whom miss farrar writes are informed that the inquiry has been turned over to her for personal attention--that she attends to all requests from that inquirer's section and will do her best to please, and so on. when methods of this kind are followed and it becomes necessary--because of the absence of the correspondent addressed--for some one else to answer a letter, it is well to say. "in the absence of miss farrar, i am answering your letter." never let an inquirer feel that the one he addresses is too busy to attend to his wants or is not interested enough to reply. when the busiest president of a business concern turns over to some one else a letter intended for the president's personal reading, the correspondent should say, "president parkins, after reading your letter, requests me to say for him," and so on. these little touches of personality and courtesy are never lost. they create a cumulative business asset of enormous value. what to enclose with _sales_ letters part v--writing the sales letter--chapter _sales have been made--and lost--by the printed matter enclosed with business correspondence. a mere mass of folders, cards and bric-a-brac is in itself not impressive to the "prospect_'" unless each item backs up a statement in the letter _and has a direct bearing on the sale_ _enclosures may be classified thus:_ first, _catalogues, price lists and detailed descriptive matter--to inform the prospect of the goods_; second, _testimonials and guarantees--to prove the claims made for the goods_; third, _return postals, addressed envelopes and order blanks--to make it easy for the prospect to buy the goods_ * * * * * the enclosure is to the letter what the supporting army is to the line of attack. it stands just behind the men at the front, ready to strengthen a point here, reinforce the line there, overwhelm opposition finally with strength and numbers. a clever sales letter may make the proper impression, it may have all the elements necessary to close the sale, but it is asking too much to expect it to handle the whole situation alone. the average prospect wants more than he finds in a letter before he will lay down his money. the very fact that a letter comes alone may arouse his suspicions. but if he finds it backed up by accompanying enclosures that take things up where the letter leaves off, answer his mental inquiries and pile up proof, the proposition is more certain to receive consideration. the whole principle of right use of enclosures is a matter of foreseeing what your man will want to know about your proposition and then giving it to him in clear convincing form and liberal measure. but enclosures must be as carefully planned as the letter itself. they are calculated to play a definite part, accomplish a definite end and the study of their effect is just as vital as the study of step-by-step progress of letter salesmanship. some letter writers seem to think that the only essential in enclosures is numbers and they stuff the envelope full of miscellaneous folders, booklets and other printed matter that does little more than bewilder the man who gets it. others make the mistake of not putting anything in with the letter to help the prospect buy. neither mistake is excusable, if the writer will only analyze his proposition and his prospect, consider what the man at the other end will want to know--then give him that--and more. and in order to live up to this cardinal rule of enclosures, simply confine your letter to _one_ article. seven of the best letter writers in the country have made exhaustive tests with descriptive folders. they have found that _one_ descriptive circular, with _one_ point, and _one_ idea pulls where the multiplicity of enclosures simply bewilders and prejudices the reader. these men have conclusively proved that overloaded envelopes do not bring results. in general the enclosure has three purposes: first, to give the prospect a more complete and detailed description of your goods; second to give him proof in plenty of their value; third, to make it easy for him to buy. on this basis let us classify the kinds of enclosures; that is, the mediums through which these three purposes may be accomplished. the first, the detailed description, is usually given in catalogue, booklet or circular, complete in its explanation and, if possible, illustrated. supplementing the catalogue or booklet, samples should be used whenever practicable for they help more than anything else can to visualize the goods in the prospect's eyes. proof is best supplied in two ways, through testimonials and guarantees; and the ways of preparing these for the prospect are endless in variety. third, you will make it easy to order through the use of order blanks, return cards, addressed envelopes, myriads of schemes that tempt the pen to the dotted line. the exact form of each of these elements is not of moment here so long as it is clear to the man who receives it. the point to be made is that one enclosure representing each of these elements-- description, proof, and easy ordering--should accompany the sales letter to back it up and make its attack effective. and now to take these up one by one and see the part each plays. when the prospect reads your letter, if it wins his interest, his first thought is "well, this sounds good, but i want to know more about it." and right there the circular comes to his assistance--and to yours. and on this circular depends very largely whether his interest is going to grow or die a natural death. if it is to lead him toward an order it must picture to him clearly just what your proposition is and at the same time it must contain enough salesmanship to carry on the efforts of the letter. and it is well to bear down hard on this: do not put material into your letter that properly belongs in the circular. link your letter up with the enclosure and lead the reader to it, but do not go into lengthy descriptions in the letter. concentrate there on getting your man interested. do that and you may depend on his devouring the enclosures to get the details. a common mistake in this line is to place a table of prices in the body of the letter. it is simply putting the cart before the horse. price in every sale should be mentioned last. it certainly should not be mentioned _before_ you have convinced your prospect that he wants your article. prices should be quoted at the end of the descriptive folder or on a separate slip of paper. this descriptive enclosure takes on many forms--a booklet, a circular, a folder, a simple sheet of specifications, a price list--but in all cases it is for the one purpose of reinforcing the argument made in the letter. when a proposition requires a booklet, the mistake is often made of making it so large and bulky that it cannot be enclosed with the letter. the booklet comes trailing along after the letter has been read and forgotten. sometimes the booklet never arrives. where possible it is much better to make the booklet of such a size that it may be enclosed in the same envelope with the letter. then you catch the prospect when his interest is at the highest point. it is embarrassing and ineffective to refer to "our booklet, mailed to you under separate cover." put the book with the letter. or, if you must send the booklet under separate cover, send it first and the letter later, so that each will arrive at about the same time. and now that you have put in a circular to help the letter, put in something to help the circular--a sample. here you have description visualized. in more ways than one the sample is by all odds the most valuable enclosure you can use. in reality, it does more--much more than help the circular with its description, it is concrete proof, in that it demonstrates your faith in the article and your readiness to let your prospect judge it on its merits. a two by three inch square of cloth, a bit of wood to show the finish, any "chip off the block" itself speaks more eloquently than all the paper and ink your money can buy. how irresistible becomes a varnish maker's appeal when he encloses in his letters a small varnished piece of wood, on the back of which he has printed, "this maple panel has been finished with two coats of ' ' floor varnish. hit it with a hammer. stamp on it. you may dent the wood, but you can't crack the varnish. this is _one_ point where ' ' varnish excels." * * * * * enclosures: circulars folders or booklets price list order blanks testimonials stuffers return post card return envelope coupons or certificates list of buyers samples * * * * * a manufacturer of a new composition for walls gives a more accurate idea of his product than could ever be learned from words and pictures by sending a small finished section of the board as it could be put on the wall. a knitting mill approaches perfection in sampling when it encloses a bit of cardboard on which are mounted a dozen samples of underwear, with prices pasted to each and a tape measure attached to aid in ordering. a roofing concern has the idea when it sends little sections of its various roof coatings. and at least one carriage maker encloses samples of the materials that go into his tops and seat covers. most unique samples are enclosed and because of their very novelty create additional interest in a proposition. a real estate company selling florida lands enclosed a little envelope of the soil taken from its property. to the farmer this little sample has an appeal that no amount of printed matter could equal. a company manufacturing cement has called attention to its product by making small cement souvenirs such as paper weights, levels, pen trays, and so forth, sending them out in the same enclosure with the letter or in a separate package. one manufacturer of business envelopes encloses with his letter his various grades of paper, made up into envelopes, each bearing the name of some representative concern that has used that particular grade. then in the lower corner of the envelope is stamped the grade, weight, price and necessary points that must be mentioned in purchasing. the various envelopes are of different sizes. on the back of each envelope is a blank form in which the purchaser can designate the printed matter wanted, and underneath, in small letters, the directions, "write in this form the printed matter you demand; pin your check to the envelope and mail to us." thus this one enclosure serves a number of purposes. first, it carries a testimonial of the strongest kind by bearing the names of prominent concerns that have used it; then, it is an actual sample of the goods; and lastly, it serves the purpose of an order blank. even a firm which sells a service instead of a product can effectively make use of the sample principle. one successful correspondence school encloses with each answer to an inquiry a miniature reproduction of the diploma that it gives its graduates. while the course itself is what the student buys, unquestionably the inspired desire to possess a diploma like the one enclosed plays its part in inducing him to enroll. a new york trust company gets the same effect by sending the prospective investor a specimen bond complete to the coupons which show exactly how much each is worth on definite dates through several succeeding years. here again the specimen bond is not actually the thing he buys but it is a facsimile and an excellent one in that it puts in concrete form an abstract article. possibly it is inadvisable to include a sample. then a picture of the article accomplishes the purpose. a grocer who writes his customers whenever he has some new brand of food product, always includes in his letter a post card with a full tinted picture of the article. for instance, with a new brand of olives he encloses a picture of the bottled olives, tinted to exactly represent the actual bottle and its contents, and underneath he prints the terse statement "delicious, tempting, nutricious." if his letter has not persuaded the housewife to try a bottle of the olives, the picture on the enclosure is apt to create the desire in her mind and lead to a purchase. an automobile dealer who knows the value of showing the man he writes a detailed picture of the machine, includes an actual photograph. even the reproduction of the photograph is insufficient to serve his purpose. the photograph is taken with the idea of showing graphically the strongest feature of the machine as a selling argument, and illustrating to the smallest detail the sales point in his letter. then, with pen and ink, he marks a cross on various mechanical parts of engine, body or running gear, and refers to them in his letter. to carry the photograph enclosure a step farther, one dealer of automobile trucks illustrates the idea of efficiency. he encloses with his letter a photograph of his truck fully loaded. in another photograph he shows the same truck climbing a heavy grade. then in his letter he says, "just see for yourself what this truck will do. estimate the weight of the load and then figure how many horses it would take to handle an equal load on a similar grade." in the sale of furniture, especially, is the actual photograph enclosed with the letter a convincing argument. fine carriages, hearses, and other high-grade vehicles are forcibly illustrated by photographs, and no other enclosure or written description is equally effective. after description and visualizing--through the medium of circular and sample--comes proof, and this you may demonstrate through any means that affords convincing evidence of worth. the two best are testimonials and guarantees, but the effectiveness of either depends largely on the form in which you present them. testimonials are often dry and uninteresting in themselves, yet rightly played up to emphasize specific points of merit they are powerful in value. the impression of their genuineness is increased a hundredfold if they are reproduced exactly as they are received. an eastern manufacturer has helped the prestige of his cedar chests tremendously with the testimonials he has received from buyers. letters from the wives of presidents, from prominent bankers and men in the public eye he has reproduced in miniature, and two or three of these are enclosed with every sales letter. an office appliance firm with a wealth of good testimonials to draw on sends each prospect letters of endorsement from others in his particular line of business. a correspondence school strengthens its appeal by having a number of booklets of testimonials each containing letters from students in a certain section of the country. the inquirer thus gets a hundred or more letters from students near his own home, some of whom he may even know personally. a variation of the testimonial enclosure is the list of satisfied users. such a list always carries weight, especially if the firms or individuals named are prominent. a trunk manufacturer, who issues a "trunk insurance certificate" to each customer, reproduces a score or more of these made out to well known men and submits them as proof of his product's popularity. another effective form of enclosure is a list of buyers since a recent date. one large electrical apparatus concern follows up its customers every thirty days, each time enclosing a list of important sales made since the previous report. another plan is that of a firm manufacturing printing presses. in making up its lists of sales it prints in one column the number of "wellington" presses the purchaser already had in use and the number of new ones he has ordered. the names of the great printing houses are so well known to the trade that it is tremendously effective to read that blank, previously operating ten wellingtons, has just ordered three more. second only to the testimony of the man who buys is the guarantee of the seller. mail-order houses are coming more and more to see the value of the "money-back" privilege. it is the one big factor that has put mail sales on a par with the deal across the counter. time was when sellers by mail merely hinted at a guarantee somewhere in their letter or circular and trusted that the prospect would overlook it. but it is often the winner of orders now and concerns are emphasizing this faith in their own goods by issuing a guarantee in certificate form and using it as an enclosure. a roofing concern forces its guarantee on the prospect's attention by giving it a legal aspect, printing in facsimile signatures of the president and other officials--and stamping the company's name. across the face of this guarantee is printed in red ink, the word "specimen." along the lower margin is printed, "this is the kind of a real guarantee we give you with each purchase of one of our stoves." a mail-order clothing firm sends a duplicate tag on which their guarantee is printed. across the tag of this sample guarantee is printed in red, "this guarantee comes tagged to your garment." the prospect who finds proof like this backing up a letter is forced to feel the worth-whileness of your goods or your proposition, and he draws forth his money with no sense of fear that he is chancing loss. the number and kind of enclosures you will put into your letter is entirely up to you. but before you allow a letter to go out, dig under the surface of each circular and see whether it really strengthens your case. apply this test; is the letter supported with amplified description, proof, materials for ordering? if it is, it is ready for the attack. you may find it best to put your description, your testimonials, your guarantee and your price list all in one circular. it is not a mistake to do so. but whether they are all in one enclosure or in separate pieces, they should be there. and in addition, put in your return card order blank or envelope or whatever will serve best to bring the order. when your letter with its aids is complete, consistent, equipped to get the order then, and only then, let it go into the mails. bringing in _new business_ by post card part v--writing the sales letter--chapter _methods of soliciting trade by mail are not confined to the letter or printed circular. the postal regulations are sufficiently broad to allow a generous leeway in the size and shape of communications that may be sent by mail, and as a result, a new field of salesmanship has been opened by the postal card. folders, return- postals and mailing cards have become part of the regular ammunition of the modern salesman, who has adapted them to his varied requirements in ways that bring his goods before me "prospect" with an emphasis that the letter often lacks--and sometimes at half the cost_ * * * * * the result-getting business man is always asking the reason why. he demands that a method, especially a selling plan, be basically right; that it have a principle behind it and that it stand the microscope of analysis and the test of trial. there are three reasons why the postal card is a business-getter. did you ever pause while writing a letter, sit back in your chair, and deplore the poverty of mere words? did you ever wish you dared to put in a little picture just at that point to _show_ your man what you were trying to say? of course you have if you have ever written a letter. that is reason one. did you ever watch a busy man going through his morning's mail? long letters he may read, short letters he is sure to glance through, but a post card he is certain to read. it is easy to read, it is to a degree informal and it is brother to a call on the 'phone. that is reason two. and the third reason is that no matter what the principles behind it, by actual test it brings the business. while primarily the postal mailing card is intended to aid the letter in many ways it does what the letter can never do. it can carry a design or an illustration without the least suggestion of effrontery, which a letter can not do without losing dignity. it can venture into clever schemes to cinch the interest. it is the acme of simplicity as means to win an inquiry. and withal it does its work at less cost than the letters. in general postal mailing cards may be classed as of three types: . the double or return post card. this consists simply of two ordinary post cards attached for convenience in mailing, sometimes closed at the loose edges by stickers but usually left open. the one carries the inquiry-seeking message; the other is for the reply. it is already addressed for returning and contains on the opposite side a standardized reply form to be signed. . the two or three or four folder mailing card. this gives greater space and opportunity for cleverness of appeal through design. the third or fourth fold may or may not be prepared for use as a reply card. instead of providing for the reply in this way, some of these folders hold a separate card by means of corner slots. in any case they fold to the size of the ordinary postal and are held by a stamp or sticker. . illustrated personal letters. these are in effect simply letters printed on heavier stock which fold into post card size. their advantage lies in the opportunity for illustration and an outside design or catch phrase to win attention. in some cases they are even filled in exactly in the manner of a form letter. which of these forms is best suited to your uses is a matter which the nature of your proposition and your method of selling must determine. whether you want to tell a long story or a short one, whether you want it to serve merely as a reminder or as your principal means of attack, these and other points must guide you. so to help you determine this, it is best to consider the post card here on the basis of its uses. there are four: . to get inquiries. . to _sell_ goods; to complete the transaction and get the order just as a letter would. . to cooperate with the dealer in bringing trade to his store. . to cooperate with the salesman in his work on dealer or consumer. inquiries may be inspired in two ways--either by using a very brief double card or folder which tells just enough to prompt a desire for more information or by a post card "letter" series which works largely on the lines of letters enclosed in envelopes. in the first instance the card or folder resorts to direct pertinent queries or suggestions of help that impel the reader to seek more details. an addressing machine manufacturer, for instance, sends his "prospects" a double folder with a return post card attached this message is little more than suggestive: "do you know that there is one girl in your addressing room who can do the work of ten if you will let her? all she needs is a regal to help her. give her that and you can cut nine names from your pay roll today. does that sound like good business? then let us tell you all about it. just mail the card attached. it puts you under not the slightest obligation. it simply enables us to show you how to save some of your good dollars." * * * * * such a card is virtually an inquiry-seeking advertisement done into post card form to insure reaching the individual. and for this reason it may be well to carry a design or illustration just as an advertisement would. a life insurance company has made good use of a post card folder, building it up around its selling point of low cost. the outside bears a picture of a cigar and the striking attention-getter "at the cost of your daily smoke--" the sentence is continued on the inside"--you can provide comfort for your family after you are gone, through a policy." then follows enough sales talk to interest the prospect to the point of urging him to tear off and send the return card for full information. many propositions can be exploited in this way. in other instances a much more complete statement must be made to elicit a reply. here the illustrated personal letter comes into use. and it is significant that in a number of specific cases these letters in post card form have been far more productive of inquiries than ordinary letters on the same proposition. their unique form, the accompanying illustrations, by their very contrast in method of approach, prompt a reading that the letter does not get. postal mailing cards may be used in two ways--either as a campaign in themselves or as steps in a follow-up series. they are especially good when your selling plan permits of goods being sent on approval or a free trial basis. then you can say, "simply drop the attached order card in the mail box and the goods will come to you by first express." a publishing house has sold thousands of low priced books on this basis, using merely a double post card. one section carries to the prospect an appealing description of the book and emphasizes the liberality of the offer. the return card bears a picture of the book itself and a clearly worded order, running something like this, "i will look at this book if you will send it charges prepaid. if i like it, i am to remit $ . within five days. if not, i am to return it at your expense." there can be no misunderstanding here. the simplicity of the card scheme itself appeals to prospects and brings back a big percentage of orders. a variation of the use of the postal as a direct sales medium is the employment of it to secure bank savings accounts. a banking house in chicago sent out folders to a large mailing list of property holders and renters in all parts of the city. as a special inducement to establishing savings accounts, this house offered each person, who returned an attached card, a small metal savings bank free, which could be kept in the home for the reception of dimes and nickels until filled--this small bank to be returned at intervals to the bank for the establishment of a permanent savings account. on the return card enclosed was a promise to send to the inquirer's home one of those small banks absolutely without cost to the receiver. here the simplicity of the scheme and method of proposing it again brought large returns. one manufacturer of dental cream sends out free samples upon request. the tube is wrapped in pasteboard, which proves to be a post card ready for signature and stamp--inviting the recipient to suggest the names of friends to whom samples can be sent. some concerns offer to send a free sample if names are sent in but this firm has achieved better results by sending the sample to all who ask and then diplomatically inviting them to reciprocate by furnishing the names of their friends. several large hotels have found valuable advertising in post cards that are distributed by their guests. these cards are left on the writing tables with an invitation to "mail one to some friend." a st. louis restaurant keeps a stack of post cards on the cashier's desk. they are printed in three colors and give views of the restaurant, emphasizing its cleanliness and excellent service. every month hundreds of these are mailed out by pleased customers and as a result the restaurant has built up a very large patronage of visitors--people from out of the city who are only too glad to go to some place that has been recommended to them. a most unusual use of post cards appeared in a st. louis street car. a prominent bondseller had arranged an attractive street car placard, discussing briefly the subject of bonds for investment purposes. in one corner of this placard was a wire-stitched pad of post cards, one of which passengers were invited to pull off. the card was mailable to the bondseller, and requested a copy of his textbook for investors. the prospect who sent the card was of course put upon the follow-up list and solicited for business. here, again, the uniqueness appeals to the public. as a cooperator with a letter follow-up, the card or folder is effective, because it introduces variety into the series, sometimes furnishing just the touch or twist that wins the order. in the follow-up series the double folder becomes especially adaptable, because of its simplicity. it usually refers to previous correspondence. for example, one suggests: "you evidently mislaid our recent letter. since its message is of such vital interest to your business--" the remainder of the message is given up to driving home a few of the fundamental points brought out in the previous letters. simple directions for filling out an attached return card are added. one double post card, used as a cooperator with a follow-up, calls attention to a sample previously mailed, asking a careful comparison of the grade of material and closes with a special inducement to replies in the form of a discount for five days. return cards, employing the absolute guarantee to insure confidence of fair dealing give clinching power. here is a sample: gentlemen:--please send me a ____ case for trial. it is clearly understood in signing this order that the shipment comes to me all charges prepaid and with your guarantee that you will promptly cancel the order, in case i am in any way dissatisfied. * * * * * * * a space is left at the bottom of the card for the person ordering to sign name and address. again the post card serves a similar purpose as a cooperator with the salesman. often between calls the house makes a special inducement to sales. here, either double post cards or folders give the advantage of simplicity; the return card offering a powerful incentive to immediate action on the part of the customer. the return card indicates to the house that the customer is interested and a salesman is called back to handle the order. one manufacturer, through use of the folder and card, wins a clever advantage for his salesmen. an attractive folder, with numerous illustrations, gives a fairly complete description of the firm's product. enclosed with the folder is a return card bearing the form reply, "dear sirs: i am interested in ----. please mail me a picture catalog of ----." and a space is left with directions for filling in name and address of the person replying. these cards when received are carefully filed and from them the salesmen gauge their calls on the prospects. here the advantage to the salesman is obvious, since his personal call assumes the nature of a favor to the prospect. from time to time, mailing folders or double post cards, are mailed between calls of the salesman, and serve to keep the proposition warm in the mind of the prospect. usually the postal or folder is a valuable aid in sending trade to the dealer. one manufacturer to stimulate business by creating orders for his retailer, sent out an elaborate series of mailing cards to the retailer's customers. enclosed with the folder were leaflets giving special features in the stock, which added value to the sales letter. handsomely engraved cards guaranteeing the material were also enclosed as a suggestion that the customer call on the retailer and the retailer's private business card was inserted. a western coffee dealer used mailing folders on lists of consumers supplied him by retailers. attractive designs on the outside of the folder create interest and put the consumer's mind in a receptive condition for considering the sales arguments embodied in the personal letter feature of the folder. a manufacturer of a contrivance for applying special paints builds an approach for the dealer's salesman with postal folders. the design on the outside of the folder indicates the simplicity with which the appliance may be operated. the sales letter inside gives minute directions for using the machine and calls attention to particular features by reference to the demonstration on the outside. as an entering wedge to orders, the letter offers a free trial and suggests that a salesman make a practical demonstration. the manufacturer has his dealer sign every letter and the return card enclosed gives only the address of the dealer. a varnish concern sent to a large mailing list a series of illustrated letters describing the use and advantage of its products. they appealed to the consumer and built up a trade for the local dealer. each letter contained both a return post card, addressed to the local dealer and a small pamphlet showing various grades of the varnish. the result of this follow-up system was twenty-five per cent more replies than the same number of envelope letters. one of the most successful campaigns ever conducted to introduce a new cigarette depended entirely upon postal letters. a series of five or six of these--well nigh masterpieces of sales talk--created the desire to try the product. enclosed with each folder was a card bearing a picture of the distinctive box in which the cigarettes were sold, so that the prospect could recognize it in the dealer's store. in another instance a book publisher created a demand for a new novel by mailing a series of single post cards bearing illustrations from the book. in this case the element of mystery was employed and the real purpose of the cards was not divulged until five or six had been sent and the book was ready to go on sale. whatever variety of card, folder or letter you choose to use, these features you should carefully observe: the style of writing and the design and mechanical make-up. the effectiveness of the mailing folder must depend upon the combination--ideas of attractiveness, simplicity and careful use of the personal letter feature. it must command attention by a forceful, intelligent approach. it must stand out sharply against the monotonous sameness of the business letter. the folder's appearance should be in accord with the class or type of men it goes to meet. its approach should contain sincerity, purpose, and originality. originality in shape hardly serves the purpose, because of the ridicule unusual shapes may give the proposition. the originality should be in the illustrations or catch phrases. this illustrative feature is all important because it virtually plays the part of the initial paragraph of the letter--it makes the point of contact and gets the attention. it corresponds to the illustrated headline of the advertisement. no rules can be laid down for it as it is a matter for individual treatment. colors that create a proper condition of mind through psychological effect must be taken into consideration in the attention-getting feature of the folder. there are certain color schemes which are known to create a particularly appropriate condition of mind. for instance, where quick action is wanted, a flaring color is effective. where pure sales arguments count most in stating a proposition, blacks and whites have been found the most adequate. soothing colors, such as soft browns and blues, have been found to appeal to the senses and serve to insure additional interest through a pleasant frame of mind. the right impression once gained, the style of the reading matter must make the most of it. many have hesitated to use the postal or folder because they fear for a certain loss, through lack of dignity, where the proposition demands an especially high-class approach. but to some folders, especially of the letter variety now in use, no such criticism could possibly be offered. really fine samples of these letters bear outside illustrations from photographs or the work of the best artists. their appearance outside and inside is given every possible attention to create the impression of distinct value. an appeal to the senses, as in the use of pleasing colors, is a feature of their make-up. the personal letter inside is perfect in details of typography; it is carefully filled in with prospect's or customer's name; care is taken to see that the filling-in process matches the body of the letter and a personal signature is appended to give a more intimate appeal. the cost of these folders, because of the high grade of reproduction and the art work, runs considerably above the usual business-getting letter of one-cent mailing. the lowest class of these folders cost approximately the same as the usual letter under two-cent mailing. any addition of special art work increases their cost proportionately, but the expense is frequently justified. these illustrated letters depend upon their power of suggestion, through graphic illustration and design, and upon the personal idea of the letter used for getting business. few enclosures, other than the return card, or reminder card, for filing purposes, are used. one physician, especially anxious of promoting a new remedy, sent out mailing folders describing his remedy and offered an absolute guarantee of results before payment. the return card enclosed with this folder was engraved with the name and address of the physician above and underneath his absolute guarantee. because the campaign was so unusual, it produced unexpectedly large returns. here, as in the usual business-getting letter, careful attention is given to details. the importance of attracting attention in the first paragraph by careful expression, followed by the creating of desire in the mind of the customer or prospect and the adding of conviction--and finally, the use of reason that compels action cannot be emphasized too strongly. a more appealing letter could scarcely be written than the following, used in the cigarette campaign previously mentioned. the outside of the folder carried an appropriate drawing by one of the best american artists and the whole folder gave an impression of the highest quality. note the easy style, designed to catch the reader as he first opens the folder and carry him along fascinated to the end: dear sir: [sidenote: attention-getter; natural and effective. explanation clear, and a desire is created through promise.] turn back in your mind for one minute to the best turkish cigarette you ever smoked. if you remember, it was not so much that the cigarette was fragrant, or that it had a particular flavor, or aroma, or mildness, that caused it to please you--it was the combination of all these qualities that made it so delicious. this means that the perfection of that cigarette was in the blend, the combination of rare tobacco, each giving forth some one quality. we have worked out a blend that produces a tobacco cigarette which satisfies _our_ ideal at least. we call the cigarette made of this brand pereso. we make no secret of the kind of tobacco used--the exact proportion and how to treat the rare leaves is our secret. to get a perfect aroma, we must take ---- tobacco: young sprigs of yellow so soft that the turks call it "golden leaf." we use ---- leaves for their flavor; they have marvelous fragrance as well a delicate mildness. [sidenote: giving conviction by details.] to get each of these tidbits of tobacco into perfect condition, so that their qualities will be at their prime when blended, is our profession. the pereso cigarette is the result. [sidenote: suggesting immediate action.] touch a match to a pereso cigarette after luncheon today. you will be delighted with its exquisite aroma, its fleeting fragrance and delicate mildness. [sidenote: strength in clincher lies in absolute guarantee.] if it is not better than the best cigarette you have ever smoked, allow us the privilege of returning the fifteen cents the package cost you. the original box with the remaining cigarettes, when handed to your dealer, will bring the refund. will you join us in a pereso cigarette today? very truly yours. [signature: adams & adams] * * * * * enclosed in this folder next to the letter was a card bearing a picture of the cigarettes in their box. at the bottom of the folder, underneath the letter, was the phrase: "all good dealers--fifteen cents a package." with the mailing card, as with the letter, guarantees, free trial offers and the like, help to strengthen the close of the proposition, win the confidence and bring back the answer. for example, a large watch company, wishing to appeal to a class of customers who had previously been listed and whose financial standing made its proposition secure, sent out folders signed by department heads asking the privilege of mailing a watch for examination and trial. the letter, which carefully described the advantages of the watch over other watches sold at similar prices, offered this trial without any cost to the prospect, only asking that if the watch suited his needs a draft be mailed to the company. the return card in this case contained an agreement by the firm to hold the prospect in no way obligated to the company, except through purchase. before returning the card to the company, the prospect was required to sign it, agreeing that, after a trial, either the watch or the money should be sent in. before you enter upon the use of mailing cards, be sure you understand the postal regulations regarding them. they are not complicated, but more than one concern has prepared elaborate folders only to be refused admittance to the mails because they did not follow specifications as to size and weight. postal laws require that all cards marked "post cards" be uniform in design and not less than three and three-fourths inches by four inches and not more than three and nine-sixteenths inches by five and nine-sixteenths inches in size. this means that all return cards, whether enclosed or attached, must be within authorized sizes to allow a first class postal rating. making it _easy_ for the prospect to _answer_ part v--writing the sales letter--chapter . _the mere physical effort of hunting up pen and paper by which to send in an order for_ something he really wants, _deters many a prospect from becoming a customer_. _the man who sells goods by mail must overcome this natural inertia by reducing the act of sending in an order or inquiry to its very simplest terms--by making it so easy for him to reply that he acts while the desire for the goods is still upon him. here are eighteen schemes for making it easy for the prospect to reply--and to reply now_ * * * * * there are few propositions so good that they will sell themselves. a man may walk into a store with the deliberate intention of buying a shirt, and if the clerk who waits on him is not a good salesman the customer may just as deliberately walk out of the store and go to the place across the street. lack of attention, over-anxiety to make a quick sale, want of tact on the part of the salesman--any one of a dozen things may switch off the prospective customer although he wants what you have for sale. even more likely is this to happen when you are trying to sell him by mail. he probably cares little or nothing about your offer; it is necessary to interest him in the limits of a page or two and convince him that he should have the article described. and even after his interest has been aroused and he is in a mood to reply, either with an order or a request for further information, he will be lost unless it is made easy for him to answer; unless it is almost as easy to answer as it is not to answer. a man's interest cools off rapidly; you must get his request for further information or his order before he picks up the next piece of mail. it is a daily experience to receive a letter or a circular that interests you a little--just enough so you put the letter aside for attention "until you have more time." instead of being taken up later, it is engulfed in the current of routine and quickly forgotten. had the offer riveted your attention strongly enough; had the inducements to act been forceful; had the means for answering been easy, you would probably have replied at once. make it so easy to answer that the prospect has no good reason for delaying. make him feel that it is to his interest in every way to act at once. do the hard work at your end of the line; exert yourself to overcome his natural inertia and have the order blank, or the coupon or the post card already for his signature. don't rely upon his enthusing himself over the proposition and then hunt up paper, pencil and envelope; lay everything before him and follow the argument and the persuasion with a clincher that is likely to get the order. in making it easy to answer, there are three important elements to be observed. you must create the right mental attitude, following argument and reason with a "do it now" appeal that the reader will find it hard to get away from. then the cost must be kept in the background, centering attention on the goods, the guarantee, and the free trial offer rather than upon the price. and finally, it is desirable to simplify the actual process--the physical effort of replying. the whole effort is wasted if there is lacking that final appeal that convinces a man he must act immediately. your opening may attract his attention; your arguments may convince him that he ought to have your goods; reason may be backed by persuasion that actually creates in him a desire for them, but unless there is a "do it this very minute" hook, and an "easy to accept" offer, the effort of interesting the prospect is wasted. * * * * * scheme --a special price for a limited period the most familiar form of inducement is a special price for a limited period, but this must be handled skillfully or it closes the gate against an effective follow-up. the time may be extended once, but even that weakens the proposition unless very cleverly worded; and to make a further cut in price prompts the prospect to wait for a still further reduction. * * * * * better look again and see if you have signed your name and written your town and state plainly. we get lots of orders every year that we can't fill because the address is incomplete or illegible. it is best to be on the safe side and write your name and address so plainly that there can be no possible mistake. did you? you don't have to use better keep an this order sheet. you o r d e r s h e e t exact copy of this can order any old way order for future you like. but using this reference. will save us both some bother * * * * * be sure to always sign the more careful you are keep a copy of your name and address. to fill out the following the order and if we get lots of orders blanks carefully and you do not hear with no sign of name clearly, the more certain from us in a or address. if your we are to get your order reasonable shipping station is filled promptly and length of time, different from your correctly. we're all long write us and post office be sure range mind readers and tell us just to give both can generally puzzle out what you ordered how an order is meant to and when you be but it takes lots of ordered it guess work value of order $ |cents date_______ ---------------------------|--- name____________________________ paid by p.o. money order | street or rural route___________ paid by exp. money order | post office_____________________ paid by draft | county__________________________ paid by check | shipping station________________ paid in currency | what railroad preferred_________ paid in silver | what express co preferred_______ paid in stamps | total amount paid | mark in square which way you want ------------------------------- this order sent___mail__express please don't write in this space __freight opened by_____booked by_____ o'k'd by______tagged by_____ shall we use our best judgment as routing_____________________ to manner of shipping and routing?____ if out of variety ordered have we your permission to substitute equal or better ______ in nearest variety ------------------------------------------------------------------ bu|qts|lbs|pts|oz|pkts|no|articles wanted |value ------------------------------------------------------------------ _________________________________________________|$______|cents___ _________________________________________________|$______|cents___ _________________________________________________|$______|cents___ _________________________________________________|$______|cents___ * * * * * _this order sheet simplifies ordering and assures accuracy. on the reverse side are printed several special offers, to which reference may readily be made. the sheet is made to fold up like an envelope and when the gummed edges are pasted down enclosures are perfectly safe_ * * * * * on some propositions the time limit can be worked over and over again on different occasions like special store sales. a large publishing house selling an encyclopedia never varies the price but it gets out special "christmas" offers, "withdrawal" sale offers, "special summer" offers--anything for a reason to send out some new advertising matter making a different appeal. and each proposition is good only up to a certain time. the letters must be mailed and postmarked before midnight of the last day, and this time limit pulls the prospect over the dead center of indecision and gets his order. the last day usually brings in more orders than any previous week. * * * * * fill out and mail this coupon to chicago supply co. i am interested in ___________________________________ ______________________________________________________ ______________________________________________________ send me free of cost mammoth illustrated catalog __ book of house and barn plants __ structural steel news __ heating and plumbing guide __ linoleum booklet __ book on roofing, siding, etc. __ gasoline engines __ clothing for men and boys __ ladies' wearing apparel__ sewing machine book __ harness and vehicles __ put cross in square opposite books you wish my name__________________________________________ town__________________________ state ____________ r.f.d.___________ box no.________ st. no.________ * * * * * _this coupon, used in advertisements and in printed matter, make it extremely easy to send for information on special subjects_ * * * * * scheme --the last chance to buy if it is desired to come right back at a prospect, some such paragraph as this is written: "only sets left! the success of our special offer surpassed all expectations. it will be necessary to issue another edition at once. the style of binding will be changed but otherwise the two editions will be the same. as we do not carry two styles on hand, we are willing to let you have one of the remaining sets at the same terms although our special offer expired saturday night." * * * * * and this appeal may pull even better than the first one--provided the proposition is "on the square." it is hard to put sincerity into a letter that is not based on an absolute truth. if "only sets left" is merely a salesman's bluff when in fact there are hundreds of sets on hand, the letter will have a hollow ring. * * * * * making it easy to answer creating desire time limit limited no. of articles cut price special terms reservation of stock or machine evading the cost free trial offer guarantee deferred payments "send bill" not an expense--an investment enclosures order blanks post cards money order applications coin cards addressed envelope * * * * * sincerity is the hardest thing in the world to imitate in a letter and absolute confidence is the key-stone to all mailorder selling. there are plenty of plausible reasons for making a time limit or a special offer. a large publishing house, selling both magazines and books by mail occasionally turns the trick by a human interest appeal: "i told the business manager that i believed i could bring our august sales up to equal those of the other months. "he laughed at me. always before they have fallen off about twenty per cent. "but i am going to do it--if you'll help me." * * * * * then the sales manager went on with a special offer; it was a legitimate offer which made a real inducement that proved one of the most successful the firm ever put out. scheme --low prices during dull seasons in making a special price the prospect must be given some plausible reason and sincere explanation for the reduction. a special arrangement with the manufacturer, cleaning out of stock, an introductory offer--some valid reason; and then state this reason in a frank, business-like way, making the story interesting and showing where it is to the advantage of both the prospect and yourself. "just to keep my men busy during the dull season i will make an extra pair of trousers at the same price ordinarily charged for a suit, on orders placed during july and august." * * * * * this offer sent out by a merchant tailor brought results, for he had a good reason for doing an extra service--he wanted to keep his help busied during the quiet months and the customer took advantage of the inducement. scheme --cut prices in exchange for names "if you will send us the names of your friends who might be interested" and "if you will show it to your friends" are familiar devices for they present a plausible excuse for cutting a price and serve the double purpose of giving the manufacturer or merchant new names for his mailing list. "a free sample if you send us your dealer's name" is reasonably certain to call for an immediate reply from most women, for they are always interested in samples. making a special introductory offer on some new device or appliance is certainly a legitimate reason for cutting the price. it is an inducement, moreover, that possesses a peculiar strength for a man likes to be the first one in his vicinity or in his line of business to adopt some improved method or system. scheme --the special "introductory price" there can be no excuse for the carelessness that makes a "special introductory price," and later in the same letter or in a follow-up calls attention to the "many satisfied users in your section." be sure your reason is real--then it rings true and incites prompt action like this offer: the wright copy holder sells the world over for $ . . we are certain, however, that once you see the holder actually increasing the output of your own typist you will want to equip your entire office with them. so, for a limited time only, we are going to make you an introductory price of $ . . send to-day for one of these holders and give it a thorough trial. then any time within thirty days, after you have watched the holder in actual use and seen it pay for itself, in actual increased output, order as many more as you want and we will supply them to you at the same introductory price of $ . each. after that time we must ask the regular price. * * * * * this is convincing. the prospect feels that if the holder were not all right it would not be sold on such terms, for the manufacturers expect that the one holder will give such satisfaction that it will lead to the sale of many more. "enclose $ . now in any convenient form and let the holder demonstrate for itself what it can save you every day. don't wait until tomorrow--but send your order today--right now." * * * * * this is the closing paragraph and if you are at all interested in copy holders it is likely you will place an order "now." and if you don't and if the order is not placed within ten days, the offer may be extended for two weeks and after that a "ten-day only" offer may pull forth an order. scheme --special terms to preferred customers a brokerage firm has found that a "pre-public announcement special offer to preferred clients only" in placing stocks and bonds is a good puller. the recipient is flattered by being classed with the "preferred clients" and is not unmindful of the opportunity of getting in on the proposition before there is any public announcement. * * * * * date _____________________ wilson safety razor co. dear sirs:--please send one standard wilson safety razor (price $ . ) very truly yours. (your) name _______________________ street and no _____________________ city ______________ state _________ ------------------------------------------------------------------ if the razor is to be sent through your dealer fill out below (dealer's) name ___________________ address ___________________________ city ______________ state _________ if you prefer that we send razor direct to you, please enclose remittance in either of the following forms cash (registered mail), money order, ny bank draft check the wilson safety razor co or the dealer who executes this order in accepting the $ . for the safety razor agrees with the purchaser that it is sold on days trial without any obligation or liability for use during that period. if for any reason the purchaser desires to return it within that period the seller upon shall upon receipt thereof refund the $ . the wilson safety razor co. * * * * * _this form of post card provides for two methods of ordering--the customer may take his choice_ * * * * * in influencing prompt action the time element and the special price are not the only "act now" inducements although they are the most common. a man had written to a firm that makes marine engines for prices but the first two or three letters had failed to call forth any further correspondence. so the sales manager wrote a personal letter in which the following paragraph appeared: "in looking over our correspondence i notice that you are particularly interested in a -horse power engine. i have an engine of that size on hand that i think will interest you. we have just received our exhibits from the motor boat shows. among these i noticed a h.p. engine and remembering your inquiry for this size engine, it occurred to me that this would make you an ideal engine for your boat." * * * * * this was cleverly worded, for although the company would contend that the exhibits were taken from stock, the possible buyer would feel confident that the engine exhibited at the show had been tested and tried in every way. if he were in the market at all, this would probably prove a magnet to draw an immediate reply--for it is always easy to reply if one is sufficiently interested. scheme --holding goods in reserve this "holding one in reserve for you" has proved effective with a typewriter company: "the factory is working to the limit these days and we are behind orders now. but we are going to hold the machine we have reserved for you a few days longer. after that we may have to use it to fill another order. sign and send us the enclosed blank to-day and let us place the machine where it will be of real service to you. remember it is covered by a guarantee that protects you against disappointment. if you don't like it, simply return it and back comes your money." * * * * * bond brokers frequently use this same idea, writing to a customer that a block of stock or a part of an issue of bonds had been reserved for him as it represented just the particular kind of investment that he always liked--and reasons follow showing how desirable the investment really is. in one form or another this scheme is widely used. when the order justifies the expense, a night telegram is sometimes sent stating that the machine can be held only one day more or something like that. this only is possible on special goods that cannot be readily duplicated. in all these offers and schemes the price is kept carefully in the background. many firms never mention the price in the letter, leaving that for the circular, folder or catalogue. scheme --the free trial offer instead of the price being emphasized, it is the free trial offer or the absolute guarantee that is held before the reader. "without even risking a cent you can use the wilbur on your farm free for days. we will ship it to you, freight prepaid, with the plain understanding that, should the wilbur not come up to every claim we make for it, we will take it off your hands, for we don't want anyone to keep the wilbur when he is not satisfied with it. thus, we agree to pay all charges and take all risk while you are testing and trying the wilbur for one whole month. "you see, we have a great deal of confidence in the wilbur or we could not afford to make you this square and generous offer, which leaves it entirely to you to say whether or not the wilbur fanning mill is a practical and money-making success. since the days' free trial proposition puts you to no risk whatever, you should take advantage of this opportunity and have a wilbur shipped right away on the free trial basis. "to prove it, all you have to do is to fill in, sign and mail this card. after days you can return the machine if you are willing." * * * * * not a word about price. all about the free trial and the fact that you are to be the judge of the machine's value. and not only the free trial but the absolute guarantee is emphasized. "your money back if not satisfactory" is the slogan of every successful mail-order house. frequently a facsimile of the guarantee accompanies the letter; always it is emphasized. scheme --the "your money back" offer a manufacturer of certain machines for shop use wastes little time in describing the machine or telling what all it will do. the broad assertion is made that after a month's use it would not be sold at the price paid for it, and instead of arguing the case and endeavoring to prove the statement, the company strives to make it easy to place a trial order. here are two of the three paragraphs that make up one of its letters: "to prove it, all you have to do is to fill in, sign and mail this card. after days you may return the machine if you want to. "try it out. never mind what we might say about the uses your shop men would be getting out of it--find out. it is easy. just send the card." * * * * * this is simplicity itself. the writer does not put us on the defensive by trying to argue with us. we are to be the judge and he compliments us by the inference that we "don't need to be told" but can judge for ourselves as to whether it is worth keeping. the price is held in the background and the actual ordering is nothing more than to sign a post card. there is no reason at all why we should delay; we could hardly turn the letter over to be filed without feeling that we were blind to our best interest in not replying. scheme --the discount for cash publishers of a magazine angle for renewals without boldly snatching for a man's pocketbook, by this presentation: "simply tell us _now_ to continue your subscription. remit at your convenience. better still, wrap a $ . bill in this post card--and mail to us today. we will send not only the twelve issues paid for, but will--as a cash discount--extend your subscription an extra two months." * * * * * here the cost is brought in almost as an afterthought, yet in a way that actually brings the cash with the renewal. "fill out the enclosed order and the goods will be shipped at once and billed in the regular way." * * * * * the payment is not in sight--it hasn't yet turned the corner. "billed in the regular way" catches our order where we would postpone action if it meant reaching down into our pockets and buying a money order or writing out a check. the payment looks afar off--and it will not seem so much if the account is paid along with the rest of the bills at the first of the month. scheme --the first installment as a "deposit" where goods are sold on "easy terms" and a first payment required, many correspondents refer to the remittance as a "deposit." in the strong guarantee it is expressly stated that in case of dissatisfaction, the "deposit" will be returned. even the deferring of the payment a few days helps to pull an order. it is not that a man is niggardly or that he does not want the article but it is the desire, rooted deep in human nature, to hold onto money after it has been hard earned. "to facilitate your prompt action, i am enclosing a convenient postal card order. our shipping department has had instructions to honor this as readily as they would your check. there is no need to send the customary initial payment in advance. simply sign and mail the enclosed card; when the file comes, pay the expressman the first payment of $ . ." * * * * * here the payment was very small and it was deferred only a few days, but long enough to make it _seem easier_, and the orders were much larger than when cash was required with the order. scheme --sending goods for inspection "take no risk" is the reassuring line in many advertisements and letters. "send no money--take no risk. we do not even ask you to make a deposit until you are satisfied that you need the verbest in your business. simply send the coupon today and the verbest goes forward at our risk." such offers pull best when simply worded and contain some such phrase as "without obligation on my part, you may send me." it gives reassurance that there is no catch and inspires the confidence that is the basis of the mail-order business. then there is the argument that the device or equipment will pay for itself--a powerful leverage when rightly applied. here is the way the manufacturer of a certain machine keeps the cost in the shadow: "there is no red tape to go through. simply sign the enclosed blank and forward to-day with the first payment of $ . . the challenge will go forward promptly. and the balance you can pay as the machine pays for itself--at the rate of seventeen cents a day." * * * * * simple, isn't it? you forget all about the cost. the paragraph is a cleverly worded "do it now" appeal and the cost is kept entirely in the background. scheme --the expense versus the investment argument a companion argument is that the device is not an expense but an investment. here there is no attempt to put the cost price in the background but to justify the outlay as a sound investment--a business proposition that is to be tested by the investment standard. this is a strong argument with the shrewd business man who figures the value of things not on the initial cost, but upon the profits they will earn and the dividends they will pay. the whole proposition must be shaped in such a way that it is easy for the prospect to buy. he must want to buy--and the experienced correspondent realizes that every word and phrase must be avoided that is capable of being misconstrued. there are no details so small that they do not have a bearing on the success of a campaign. scheme --the return postal filled in for mailing and now that you have made clear your proposition and shown your proof, now that you have led your prospect to the buying point, the next step is to make him send you the order. and the only way to do this is to follow the example of the good salesman: put the pen in his hand, your finger on the dotted line, and slip the order blank before him. the salesman does these things because he knows that he might lose the sale if he asked his prospect to hunt up a pen, a letterhead and some ink. he knows the value of making it easy to buy. and in selling by mail you must do the same. don't guide him on to a decision to order and then leave him at sea as to how to do it. show him exactly what to do. it is easy enough simply to say, "write me a letter," or, "send me $ . ." the very man you want most to sell may not know how to write a clearly worded order. even if he does, the fact that you ask him to go to the trouble of getting his writing materials may serve to postpone the act and lose him the desire to buy. so give him the order ready to sign, with as few changes as possible required. and give him an addressed return envelope to send it in. if no money is to be sent with the order, put it on a post card. "sign and mail the card" borders on the extreme of simplicity in buying. you cannot be too simple in your method of soliciting orders. if your proposition will admit of saying, "pin a dollar bill to this letter and mail," say it. if more details are needed, make them as simple as possible. * * * * * johnson dye order and coin card (be sure to address your envelope very plainly) johnson dye company boston, mass. send me __ packages of johnson dyes, at ten cents each, as marked in the order blank below. i enclose in this coin envelope below, total sign very plainly _______ cents name______________________________________ address_________number, street, or box, post office, county, state ------------------------------------------------------------------ don't fail to fill out this [words behind has he (any) johnson drawing of dyes for wool?_____ my dealer's name_________ envelope] has he (any) johnson dyes for cotton?____ address__________________ has he the johnson dye colors ordered write plainly below? _____ ------------------------- -------------------- johnson dyes johnson dyes for wool for cotton _______light blue _______light blue _______dark blue [envelope: put _______dark blue _______navy blue your money, coin _______navy blue _______brown or bill in here] _______brown _______seal brown _______seal brown _______green _______green _______dark green _______dark green _______pink _______pink _______scarlet _______scarlet _______crimson _______crimson _______cardinal red _______cardinal red _______turkey red _______turkey red _______garnet _______garnet _______black _______black _______purple _______purple _______yellow _______yellow _______orange _______orange _______gray _______gray * * * * * _a manila enclosure that contains a small envelope suitable for sending coins or bills. the directions not only cover all points on the order but give the company information for its follow-up_ * * * * * scheme --the money order ready for signature if you want him to send a money order, help him to get it by enclosing a money order application filled in except for his name. avoid the possibility of giving the order blank a legal appearance. simply have the order say, "send me ----" and as little more as is necessary. show the prospect that there are no strings or jokers in your blank. make it so simple that there is no possibility of misunderstanding its terms. if the article is one that is sold in much th same way to every purchaser, it is best to print the entire order, leaving only the date line and the signature line blank. if the purchaser has to choose between two styles of the article or between two quantities, the order blank may be printed, so that the quantity not wanted may be crossed out. scheme --ordering by marks in dealing with an unlettered class of people, it is well to put a footnote in very small type under optional lines or words and to instruct the purchaser to "cross out the style you do not want" or "put an x opposite the quantity ordered." in case of articles that are sold for cash and also on the easy payment plan, it is better to have two separate order blanks printed on different colors of paper, one plainly headed "cash order blank," and the other "easy payment order blank." avoid the "instalment plan." the name has lost standing of late; the wording "easy payment plan" is better and more suggestive. scheme --the coin card the coin-card method is a winner for sales under a dollar. the card, with its open holes inviting the quarter or the fifty-cent piece, and the order blank printed conveniently on the flap--captures much loose money. the post office department will furnish money order applications with the name of the advertiser printed in the proper spaces. these printed applications should be sent for the prospect's convenience in cases where a money order is likely to be used. they insure that the advertiser's name will come before postmaster's written in the preferred form, and they also relieve much of the hesitancy and embarrassment of the people that do not know how to make out an application. scheme --sending money at the other fellow's risk one of the best schemes for easy ordering invited the reader to fold a dollar bill in the letter "right now" and mail the letter at the risk of the firm. that effective closing removed the tendency to delay until a check or a money order could be secured. it took away the fear of loss in the mails. it largely increased the returns of the letter. it is sometimes an excellent plan to suggest that the reader sign and mail at once a postal card that is enclosed. if there is an inch or two of space at the bottom of the letter, a blank order or request may be written there that needs only a signature to make it complete. in the closing paragraph, direct the reader to sign and return the slip. an addressed envelope should always be enclosed. it will not always be used, but it will be used by most people, and it assures the correct address and facilitates the handling of incoming mail. how to write letters that _appeal_ to women part vi--the appeal to different classes--chapter _the two-page letter which a man would toss into the waste basket unread may be read by a woman with increasing interest at each paragraph. the average woman does not have a large correspondence; her mail is not so heavy but what she_ finds time to read every letter that appeals to her even slightly. _the printed heading may show a letter to be from a cloak company. she doesn't really need a new coat--and anyhow she could hardly afford it this fall--but she would just like to see what the styles are going to be like--and it doesn't cost anything to send for samples. yet if the writer of the letter is skilled and understands the subtle workings of a woman's mind_, the cloak is half sold by the time she fills out the postal card. _this chapter tells why_ * * * * * the more personal a letter is made the more successful it will prove. several large mail-order houses, handling thousands of letters every day, are gradually abandoning the use of form letters, making every communication personal. the additional expense is of course great but the increased business apparently justifies the new policy. the carelessness that sends out to women form letters beginning "dear sir" has squandered many an advertising appropriation. a man might not notice such a mistake or he might charitably blame it onto a stupid mailing clerk, but a woman--never. the mail-order houses with progressive methods not only guard against inexcusable blunders and tactless letters but they are studying the classes and the individuals with whom they are dealing. a mail may bring in two letters--one, from a farmer, laboriously scrawled on a bit of wrapping paper; the other, from a lady in town, written on the finest stationery. both may request catalogues and the same printed matter will be sent to each, but only the amateur correspondent would use the same form letter in reply. the book agent who rattles off to every prospect the set speech which the house furnished him with his prospectus either throws up the work as a "poor proposition" or changes his tactics, and the form letter that tries to wing all classes of individuals is most likely to miss all. in making an appeal to women, the first thing to be considered is the stationery. good quality of paper is a sound investment. saving money by use of cheap stationery is not economy for it prejudices the individual against the sender before the letter is ever opened. firms that cater to women of the better class follow out the current styles in writing paper. the "proper" size and shape of sheet and envelope immediately make a favorable impression. various tints may be used to good effect and, instead of a flaring lithographed letterhead, the firm's monogram may be stamped in the upper left-hand corner. the return card on the envelope should not be printed on the face but on the reverse flap. such a letter is suggestive of social atmosphere; it is complimentary to the lady. in beginning the letter it should strike at some vulnerable spot in feminine nature--but it must be so skillfully expressed that the motive is not apparent. if the line is anything that can be shown by sample, manage to work into the very beginning of the letter the fact that samples will be mailed free upon request. women never tire of looking at samples; they pull thousands of orders that could never have been landed with printed descriptions or illustrations. a most successful house selling suits and cloaks has proved conclusively that nothing will catch the attention of a woman so quickly as an offer of free samples or some reference to style and economy in woman's dress. it urges upon its correspondents the desirability of getting in this appeal in the very first sentence. letters from this house begin with some pointed reference: "becoming styles, we know, are what you want, together with quality and the greatest economy." or, "you know we guarantee you a perfect-fitting suit, of the prettiest materials in the market--whatever you may select." this letter has the personal signature of the sales manager: dear madam: i have been intending to write you ever since you sent for your republic style book, but i have been so busy in connection with our new building as to hardly find time. but you are no doubt now wondering just why, out of the many, many thousand requests for the republic style book, i should be so particularly interested in yours. and so i am going to tell you frankly my reason. it is this: in your community there is only a very small number of all the ladies who wear republic suits, and they all should wear them--and would wear them if they could but be made to know the real beauty of our suits. i want to show them just how beautiful a republic suit can be. so i ask you, would you like to have made for you this season, the most beautiful suit you ever had? would you like now, a suit more stylish, better fitting, more becoming, better made--more perfect--than any other suit you have had? if this interests you at all, then i am ready personally to see to it for you. a suit that is different from the ones worn by your acquaintances is what i am now speaking of; not different because made of some unusual material, or in some over-stylish design, but different because better. it is the difference of quality, of genius in its cutting, that i want your friends and neighbors to see and admire in your suit. now i am going to say to you very frankly that i have a reason for wanting to make your suit attract the admiration of your friends. i wish your suit to convince them that they, too, should have their suits made by the republic. would you care to have me tell you just how i propose to put this unusual grace and style into your suit? first, everything depends upon the lines of a suit--if its lines are beautiful, the suit is beautiful. now we have at the republic a chief designer, who is a genius in putting the greatest beauty and grace into the lines of his models. we say he is a genius, because a man can be a genius in designing just as a musician or any exceptionally skillful man may be said to be a genius. and when a highly trained cutter and an expert tailor make up one of this man's designs, the result is a suit that stands apart from all others, by reason of the attractiveness there always is in grace and style and beauty. such is the suit i offer to have made for you. but there is to be no increased cost to you for this special service. the price of every republic made-to-measure suit is plainly stated under its description in our style book. that is all you'll have to pay. if you wish you can have a dressmaker take your measurements and we will pay her for her trouble, as explained on the enclosed dressmaker's certificate. please read this certificate. "now, what am i to do?" you ask. simply send your order to me personally. just say, "make my suit as you agree in your letter." now if you wish other samples or information, write to me personally and i will take care of it for you. but, the sooner you get your order to me the better. please consider that we, at the republic, will always be glad to be of service to you. i, especially, will be pleased to have the opportunity of making you a suit of which you can be proud and of which we will be glad to have you say, "this is a republic suit." shall i hear from you soon? yours very respectfully, [signature: g. l. lawrence] * * * * * this letter was sent out on very tasty tinted stationery. it was written by someone who understood the subtle processes of the feminine mind. in the first place the lady is flattered because the sales manager himself writes to her and offers to give her order his personal attention. surely an opportunity to secure the very best suit the house can turn out! "it is the difference of _quality_, of genius in its cutting, that i want your friends and neighbors to see and admire in your suit." no fulsome flattery here; it is so delicately introduced that it appears entirely incidental, but the shaft strikes home. there is just enough left unsaid to stir the imagination. the logic and the matter-of-fact argument that would appeal to the man gives way to suggestion and persuasion and the necessity for prompt action is tactfully inserted at the proper place. in another letter from the same house the prospect was impressed by the great care used in making up garments: "in order that your measurements may be taken exactly right, we send you with this letter a 'republic' tape measure. this is the same kind that our cutters use and it is entirely accurate. "we send this tape measure to you because we want to avoid the least possibility of variation in your measurements. we want to make your suit perfect, and we will personally see to every detail of its making." * * * * * no battery of arguments and proofs could make the same appeal to the woman as the tape line sent in this way. the suggestion is more powerful with a woman when skillfully handled than statements, assertions and arguments. compare the subtle appeal in the above to the paragraphs taken from a letter sent out by a house that was trying to enter the mail-order field: "we want you to read our booklet carefully for it explains our methods of doing business fully. we are very particular about filling orders and know you will be pleased with any suit you may buy from us. "our financial standing should convince you that if anything is not right we will make it so. we guarantee satisfaction and solicit a trial order." * * * * * in the first place, the average woman would know nothing about the financial standing of the house. it is evident that the man who wrote the letter had been handling the correspondence with dealers and firms that necessarily keep posted on the rating of manufacturers. and the way the proposition is stated that "if anything is not right we will make it so" suggests that possibly the suit might not be satisfactory. but while women are susceptible to flattery there is danger of bungling, of making the effort so conscious that it is offensive. "your natural beauty will be enhanced by one of our suits for our cutter understands how to set off a woman's form and features so she is admired wherever she goes." the average woman is disgusted and reads no further. * * * * * how different arguments appeal to women style _foremost consideration_ price _secondary consideration_ quality _slight_ exclusiveness _valuable_ service _minor importance_ sentiment _effective_ flattery _expedient_ testimonials _impressive_ reputation _desirable_ * * * * * mere cleverness in expression will fall wide of the mark and facetiousness should be strictly avoided. it is better to depend on a very ordinary letter which will have little effect on the reader one way or the other than to offend her by too obvious flattery or an apparent attempt to make capital from a feminine weakness. arouse her curiosity--the curiosity of woman is proverbial, and a general store at nettleton, mississippi, found a "cousin elsie" letter, mailed at atlanta, georgia, to be the most effective advertising it ever sent out, for it aroused the greatest curiosity among the women of nettleton. here is a letter just as it was sent out, the name of the recipient filled in on the typewriter: my dear cousin:-- i know you will be surprised to get this letter. i spent such a delightful winter in california and wished so often that my dear nettleton kin could be with me. on my return trip, i met the wilson piano co's manager. he told me the nettleton supply co. was giving away one of its $ . pianos this year in advertising. i do hope that some of my ambitious cousins will get to work and get it. it will certainly be worth working for. then what do you think? the first thing when i came to the office this morning, i made an invoice of the millinery that the nettleton supply co's buyer had bought of our house and i was certainly surprised to know that such beautiful stuff is sold in a small town like nettleton. our salesman said that this is one of the nicest bills that he has sold this season. i met the buyer and talked with her about all of you and promised to attend the spring opening. i know it will be one of the best the house has had, as it will have so much pretty stuff to show. i will have only a day or two and i want to ask you and all my cousins to meet me at this opening. i am anxious to see you and this will be a good opportunity for us to meet. don't fail to meet me. i have lots of work to do and must bring this letter to a close. with a heart full of love for all the dear old nettleton folks and an extra lot for you, from, your cousin, elsie. p.s.--don't fail to come to the opening. i will be there if possible. miss smiley will let you know when to come. buy a pair of peters' shoes this spring; you will never regret it. * * * * * such letters could not be used very often but occasionally they are immensely effective. "mrs. elliott's troubles and how they were cured" have become famous in some parts of the country. written in long hand, they bore every resemblance to a social letter from a lady to some old neighbor and told how many of her housekeeping troubles had been ended by using a certain kind of furniture polish. the letters were written in such a chatty style that they were read through and passed around to other members of the family. my dear: i know you will be surprised to hear from me and i may as well confess that i am not altogether disinterested in writing you at this time but i am glad to say that the duty imposed upon me is a pleasure as well. you know some time ago after i had painted my floors, i wrote the company whose paint i used and they put my experiences in the form of a little booklet entitled "mrs. elliot's troubles." * * * * * _this is the first page of a facsimile hand-written letter that proved highly successful as it appealed to feminine curiosity and insured careful reading_ * * * * * the appeal to women must hover around her love of style and her desire for economy. bring in either subject deftly at the beginning of a letter and she will be an interested reader of all the sales talk that follows. several mail-order houses have trained women to handle this part of their correspondence for they are more apt in the use of feminine expressions. let a man try to describe some article as "perfectly splendid," or "really sweet" and he will stumble over it before he gets to the end of the sentence. yet when these same hackneyed phrases are brought in naturally by a woman who "feels just that way" about the garment she is describing, they will take hold of the reader in a way that is beyond the understanding of the masculine mind. in the appeal to women there is more in this tinge of off-hand refinement, the atmosphere, the enthusiasm shown and in the little personal touches, than in formidable arguments and logical reasons. what is triviality to a man is frequently the clinching statement with a woman. and so a fixed set of rules can not be formulated for writing letters to women. instead of a hard and fast rule, the correspondent must have in mind the ideas and the features that naturally appeal to the feminine mind and use them judiciously. dear madam: this mail is bringing to you a copy of our new catalogue, describing our complete line of hawkeye kitchen cabinets. the catalogue will tell you how you can do your kitchen work in half the usual time. it will tell you how to save your strength, time, and energy--how to relieve yourself of the burden of kitchen drudgery. aren't these things worth looking into? just try counting the unnecessary steps you take in preparing your next meal. calculate the time you lose in looking for articles that should be at your fingers' ends but are not. imagine, if you can, what it would save you if you could do away with your pantry, kitchen table, and cupboard and get all the articles needed in the preparation of a meal in one complete well-ordered piece of furniture that could be placed between the range and sink, so you could reach almost from one to the other. think of the steps it would save you. imagine a piece of furniture containing special places for everything--from the egg beater to the largest kitchen utensil--a piece of furniture that would arrange your provisions and utensils in such a systematic way that you could (in the dark) find almost anything you wanted. if you can draw in your mind a picture of such a piece of furniture, you will have some idea of what a buckeye kitchen cabinet is like. how, don't you want one of these automatic servants? don't you think you need it? if so, send for one now. don't put it off a single day. you have been without it too long already. it doesn't cost much to get a hawkeye. if you don't care to pay cash, you can buy on such easy payments that you will never miss the money--only five cents a day for a few months. you would think nothing of paying five cents a day street-car fare to keep from walking a few blocks in the pure air and sunshine, yet you are walking miles in your kitchen when one streetcar fare a day for a few months would do away with it. send your order right along and use the cabinet thirty days. if it doesn't do what we say it will, or if you do not consider that it is more than worth the money, send it back at our expense and we will refund whatever you have paid. that's fair, isn't it? we pay freight on all-cash orders yours truly, [signature: adams & adams] * * * * * _this letter is written in an easy, natural style, which is aided by the short paragraphs. the appeal to the imagination is skillful, and the homely illustration of the car-fare well chosen. the closing is in keeping with the general quality of the letter and was undoubtedly effective. this letter is a longer one than the man would read about a kitchen cabinet, but there are not too many details for women readers_ * * * * * all women, for instance, are influenced by what other women do, and there is no other touch more productive of sales than the reference to what some other customer has ordered, or what comments she has made. both in educational campaigns and in writing to regular customers on some specific proposition it is a good policy to work in some reference to a recent sale: "one of our very good customers from your neighborhood writes us that her new suit (style ) has caused her more perfectly delightful compliments than she ever had before." * * * * * such testimonials are to be found in every mail-order house that has attained even a moderate success, for women who are pleased are given to writing letters profuse in their expressions of appreciation. at times it is desirable to quote a whole letter, withholding, of course, the name of the writer. the most convincing letters to use are those that tell about first orders, or how some friend induced the writer to send in a trial order, or how she came to be a customer of the mail-order house. these personalities add a touch of human interest, they create an atmosphere that is real, they mean much to a woman. quoted letters are especially effective in getting a first order after a woman has become sufficiently interested to write in for a catalogue. here is one lifted from a letter sent out by the general manager of a suit house: dear mr. wardwell: you ask me to tell you how i came to send you my first order. i think i had written for your style book three seasons. each time i found many garments i liked. i found waists and dresses and skirts that were much prettier than the ones i could get elsewhere. and yet, some way or other, while i longed for these very garments, i did not order them. i think it was simply because i never had ordered by mail. one day when looking through your style book the thought came to me: "if you want this dress, why don't you stop hesitating and wondering and sit down right now and order it?" and i did--and ever since i have bought my suits, dresses, waists, almost everything, from you. * * * * * testimonial letters from prominent women, wives of distinguished men and others whose names are widely known, are always effective. a number of years ago mrs. frances cleveland, wife of the ex-president, wrote to a furniture factory for a cedar chest. the order was in mrs. cleveland's own handwriting and the letter was at once photographed and a facsimile enclosed with all the letters and advertising matter sent out by the furniture house. such things have an influence on the feminine mind that the skilled correspondent never overlooks. the reason that so many letters fail to pull is because the correspondents are not salesmen; they are unable to put actual selling talk into a letter. for after you have aroused a woman's curiosity and appealed to her love of style and her desire to economize, there has got to be some genuine, strong selling talk to get the order. the difference is brought out by a large chicago mail-order house which cites the customer who inquired about a certain ready made skirt in a -inch length which could not be supplied as the regular measurements run from to . a correspondent thinking only of the number of letters that can be answered in a day simply wrote, "we are very sorry we cannot supply the skirt you mention in the length you desire, because this garment is not made regularly in shorter lengths than inches. regretting our inability to serve you," and so forth. the letter inspector threw out the letter and dictated another: "we cannot furnish skirt, catalogue number h , in a -inch length, but we can supply it in a -inch length; this is the shortest length in which it is regularly made. you can have it altered to a -inch length at a small expense, and as the skirt is an unusually pretty style and of exceptionally good value, the price being only $ . , we trust you will favor us with your order." * * * * * this is letter-writing plus salesmanship. the correspondent did not spill over in his eagerness to get the order; he did not describe the skirt as the finest to be had nor insist that it was the most wonderful bargain in the catalogue. rather he told her it was an "unusually pretty style and of exceptionally good value." it was so simply told and so naturally that it carried conviction. it refers to style and to economy--two things that appeal to every woman. letters personally signed by the "expert corsetiere" of a large wholesale house were mailed to a selected list of lady customers in cities where the diana corsets were handled: dear madam; here's an incident that proves how important corsets are in wearing the new straight, hipless gowns. mrs. thompson, who is stouter than the new styles require, tried on a princess gown in a department store. the gown itself was beautiful, but it was most unbecoming and did not fit at all, tho it was the right size for her. mrs. thompson was about to give up in despair saying, "i can't wear the new styles"--when a saleswoman suggested that she be fitted with a diana corset in the model made for stout figures. the result was that the princess gown took the lines of the corset and fitted mrs. thompson perfectly. in fact the original lines of the gown were brought out to better advantage. this only goes to prove that with a good corset any gown will drape right and take the lines of the corset. you'll find it easy to wear the new long straight style gowns if you wear a diana corset in the model made for your style of figure. the dianas are made after the same models as the most expensive french corsets costing $ to $ . yet $ to $ buys a diana. the diana is not heavy and uncomfortable as so many of the new corsets are this year. the fabrics from which they are made are light and comfortable. at the same time, so closely meshed and firmly woven that with reasonable wear every diana corset is guaranteed to keep its good shape and style or you will receive a new corset without charge. the diana dealer, whose card is enclosed, invites you to call and see these new corsets. will you go in to see the diana today? very truly yours, [signature: grace la fountain] * * * * * the letter is in a chatty style that assures its being read. it does not say, "we have just the corset for you stout women"--but that is what it means. it interests and appeals especially to the stout women without reminding them offensively that they are too heavy to wear the styles in vogue. the national cloak company has studied the methods that take firm hold on the women and finds it necessary to bear down heavily on the guarantee of satisfaction. many women are inclined to be skeptical and hesitate long before sending money to an unknown house. so the national uses a guarantee tag insuring customers against dissatisfaction, sending these tags out with the goods. it assures the return of money if the order is not all right in every way and further agrees to pay all the express charges. free reference is made to this tag in the company's letters and it gives a certain concreteness to the guarantee feature. this tag makes its own argument, proves its own case. business men generally take it for granted that satisfaction goes with the goods; their experience enables them to size up a proposition quickly and if there is any flaw in the advertisements or the company's methods, they pass it by. but women, not so familiar with business affairs, must be approached from a different angle. little points must be explained and guarantees must be strongly emphasized. the formal letter which appeals to a man by going straight to the point would, by its very conciseness, offend the vanity of a woman. the successful correspondent never overlooks the susceptibility of a woman to flattery--but it must be the suggestion of flattery, the implied compliment, rather than the too obvious compliment. "the handsomest gown money will buy can't make you look well unless your corset is the correct shape." * * * * * this is the opening sentence in a letter advertising a particular corset. the lady is gracefully complimented by the intimation that she wears handsome gowns, yet there is not the slightest suggestion that the reference was dragged in as a part of the selling scheme. instead of insinuating that she must buy cheaply, let it be hinted that she is actuated by the very laudable motive of economy. "you would scarcely believe that such delicious coffee could be sold at cents--unless you happen to know that the flavor of coffee depends largely upon the blending." here the low price is emphasized but there is no hint of forced economy; rather it suggests that the best quality can be obtained without paying a high price. "you can offer your most particular guest a cup of regal coffee and know she has never tasted a more delicious flavor and fragrance." * * * * * this is the beginning of a letter that successfully introduced a new coffee. here is a tactful compliment--the taking for granted that the recipient entertains guests of some importance--guests who are particular and will notice her coffee. there are few things that the average woman is more concerned about than that her guests will be pleased with her refreshments. the suggestion that she herself would enjoy or even that her family would enjoy this coffee does not make such direct appeal to a woman as this assurance that it will please her particular guests. the house that uses the same kind of letter on men and women will never score such big results as the firm that understands the different processes of thinking and the different methods of making the appeal. with the man it is reason, logic, argument; with the woman it is suggestion, flattery, persuasion. the correspondent who aims to establish a large mail-order trade with women must study their whims, their prejudices, their weaknesses and their characteristics before he can make an appeal that brings in the orders and makes permanent customers of trial buyers. it is the little things--this subtle insight into feminine nature that marks the successful selling letter to the woman. they are not things that can be set down and numbered in a text book; they are qualities of mind that must be understood and delicately handled. rightly used they are more powerful than irrefutable arguments and indisputable facts. how to write letters that _appeal_ to men part vi--the appeal to different classes--chapter _one-half of the form letters sent out to men are thrown away unread. a bare_ one-third _are partly read before discarded, while only_ one-sixth _of them--approximately per cent--are read through. the reason why such a large proportion is ineffective is this: the letter-writer, through ignorance or carelessness, does not strike the notes that appeal to every man. here are some of the subtle ways by which correspondents have forced the attention of_ men _by appealing to traits distinctly masculine_ * * * * * if you received a dozen letters in your mail this morning it is probable that there were just twelve different angles to the appeals that were made. for most correspondents are not thinking about the man they are writing to but are concerned solely with thoughts about the propositions they have in hand--and that is why the great bulk of the letters that are opened in the morning pause at the desk only momentarily before continuing their way to the furnace room. it is the exceptional correspondent who stops to analyze his letters, looking at them from every viewpoint, and then tests out his conclusions, trying one appeal after another until he evolves certain principles that pull letter writing out of the class of uncertainties and enable him to depend upon definite returns. for there are appeals that are practically universal. appeal to a man's ambition and you have his interest: larger income, better position, some honor or recognition--touch these and no matter how busy, he will find time to read your message. you've got to have more money. your salary, without income, is not enough. the man who depends upon _salary alone_ to make him rich--well-to-do--or even comfortable, is making the mistake of his life. for the minute you stop working, the money stops coming in. lose a day and you lose a day's pay--while expenses go right on. don't you think it's time you got nature to work for you? a dollar put into a peach orchard will work for you days, nights and sundays. it never stops to sleep or eat but keeps on growing--growing-- _from the very minute you put your money in_. think of the difference between a dollar invested with us and increasing and yielding day by day and the dollar which you use to purchase a few moments idle diversion or pleasure. the latter is lost forever--the dollar put to earning with us earns forever. * * * * * "more money." that appeal strikes home. one glance at the letter and a man is interested. he may not have money to invest but the other letters will remain unopened until he finds out whether there is not some plan or scheme that will actually mean more money to him. the correspondence schools recognized the force of this appeal and developed it so systematically that it might be called the standard correspondence school argument. here is one of the best pulling arguments: pay-day--what does it mean to you? does your money "go 'round?" or does it fail to stop all the gaps made by last week's or month's bills? last week--according to actual, certified reports on file in our office--a. b. c. men got their salary raised as a direct result of becoming more proficient from studying a. b. c. courses. don't you think it's time that salary raise was coming _your way_? * * * * * the same product--a correspondence course--may use the line of appeal peculiarly appropriate to men--that of responsibility. such a letter leads out: if your expenses were doubled tomorrow could you meet them--without running heavily in debt? if you had to have more money on which to live--to support those dependent upon you--could you make it? you could if you had the training afforded by our course; it has doubled other men's salaries, it can do the same for you. * * * * * next to the appeal to ambition in strength is this appeal to responsibility. this is the burden of the arguments used by insurance companies, savings banks and various investment companies. an insurance company marketing a particularly strong investment policy, and which follows the plan of writing to the prospect direct from the home office, finds that such a letter as this pulls: our agent, mr. blank, no doubt has presented to you a majority of the many advantages of a ---- policy in the ----. but we want you to have in writing, and signed by an officer of the company, what we regard as _the_ main reason you should be with us. no civilized man can evade responsibility. should anything happen to you, you are responsible for that loss--to your business--your family--your friends. is your responsibility great enough--without the protection of the regal company--to "make good" your own loss? * * * * * but the kind of appeal to make is only one phase of the problem. of equal importance is the manner of making that appeal. on first glance it would be thought that the products which appeal specifically and exclusively to men would be marketed by talking points which have specifically and exclusively the masculine appeal. but such is not the case. men's clothes, as an instance, are marketed on the talking points, "need for suitable dress," "quality," "style," and similar arguments. these arguments are not the ones appealing merely to men; women are just as much interested in need of suitable dress and the quality and style of the garment worn as are the members of the opposite sex. but the general talking point may be extended, or rather restricted, so as to make an appeal to men along the lines of their exclusive experience: clothes are the outward index of the inner man. the business man who dresses so as to show his inherent neatness and orderliness has just that much advantage over his less careful competitors. the employee who meets the responsibilities and niceties of good business dress shows to his sharp-eyed employer that he is a man who is liable to meet the niceties and responsibilities of a better position. more than once has both business and advancement hinged on appearance. and good appearance never handicaps--never holds a man back. * * * * * how different arguments appeal to men price _foremost_ sentiment _useless_ style _slight_ quality _important_ flattery _doubtful_ exclusiveness _seldom_ testimonials _effective_ reputation _reassuring_ service _essential_ * * * * * this presentation is good "man copy" for it is based on that universal attribute--the desire to "get on" in business and as an employee. this letter has the right kind of appeal, rightly presented. compare that letter with the one sent out by a tailor to the professional men of his city: dear sir: i hope you will excuse the liberty i am taking in addressing you personally, but as it is on a matter that affects you very much and also your profession, i hope you will overlook the familiarity. as a physician you realize the importance of having good clothes and also of having them kept in good order, both from a social as well as a professional standpoint. being situated in your immediate neighborhood and having my store open a greater part of the day, i am sure the proximity will be a great convenience to you. i have had twenty-seven years' experience in making clothes and cleaning, pressing and repairing them. i do not think you need question my ability to do your work satisfactorily as i have made clothes for some of the most fastidious and aristocratic people in the world. sixteen years in london, england, making clothes for lords, dukes and other titled people should entitle me to your consideration. perhaps you may have some lady friends who need garments remodelled, cleaned, pressed or repaired, who would be glad to know of my shop. i assure you i will attend to all orders promptly and do your work as you want it. yours very truly. [signature: m. b. andrews] * * * * * _this letter begins with an apology and there is no inducement to patronize the tailor except his unbacked assertion that he made clothes for "titled people" for sixteen years_ * * * * * he starts out with an apology and his sentences are involved. his boast about the work he has done for titled nobility abroad indicates that he is a snob--the whole letter lacks conviction. sometimes a man-to-man appeal may have the heart interest that strikes a responsive chord. dear mr. smith: [sidenote: a statement that every man agrees with. good description.] an extra pair of dressy, well-made trousers is something every man can use--no matter how many suits he has. here is an opportunity to get a pair at exceedingly moderate cost. [sidenote: effective method of dealing with a real bargain.] you know how we make trousers--what substantial, well-selected patterns we carry; how carefully we cut, so as to get perfect fit in the crotch and around the waist; how we whip in a piece of silk around the upper edge of the waist; put in a strip to protect against wear at the front and back of the leg at the bottom; and sew on buttons so that they won't pull off. [sidenote: sending of samples greatly increases power of letter.] our season is winding up with a lot of patterns on hand containing just enough for one pair or two pairs of "burnham-made" trousers. see the enclosed sample. there's a good variety in dark patterns and a few light patterns, not a one sold regularly at less than $ . and some sold as high as $ . . [sidenote: this consideration for the old customer is sure to have a good effect.] these remnants won't go into the windows until saturday morning. we are notifying you, as a regular customer, that as long as these remnants last you can get a pair of trousers from any piece for $ . , or two pairs at the same time from the same measure for $ --workmanship just the same as if you paid the regular price. [sidenote: the last half of the closing sentence has much subtle power.] this is a real bargain, and we hope to see you before the best of the patterns are picked out. truly yours, the burnham company * * * * * _here is a letter sent out by a rival tailor. it grips attention in the first sentence and carries conviction. it prompts immediate action and every sentence carries an appeal. unlike the preceding letter, it does not talk about the writer but about the goods he has for sale--the bargains he offers_ * * * * * the manager and owner of a business which was in immediate need of money had tried out different sales letters with but fair success. his product sold to men; it would stand up under trial; the difficulty lay entirely in awakening interest in a highly competitive product. as there seemed scarcely a chance that the business might be made to live, the manager decided to take the public into his confidence--partly, perhaps, as extenuation for the failure he saw ahead. so he led out with a sales letter beginning with this appeal: suppose you had put every cent of money--every bit of your wide experience--every ounce of energy--into a business wouldn't you want to see it go--live? and if you _knew_--positively _knew_--that you had the test product of its kind in the world--wouldn't it spur you to still greater efforts--if you knew that there was danger of failure simply because the public was not prompt enough in responding? you, like hundreds and thousands of others, have had it in mind to buy of me _sometime_. it is vital to the life of my business that you make that _sometime_ now! * * * * * the pulling power of this letter was phenomenal; not only did thirty-five per cent of the list order, but twelve per cent in addition answered, stating that their orders could be depended upon later. in addition, there were scattering letters of encouragement and comment, making the total result a marker in the era of solicitation by mail. what made this particular letter pull, when dozens of other letters, written by the same man to the same list on the same proposition, had attained only mediocre results? the last letter made a distinctive appeal--to men--and particularly to men in business. for, since the time of "playing store," every man has met, in its many varied guises, the wolf of failure--and once a fellow business man is in the same plight, the man who loves fairness will do his part to help out. that these talking points that appeal to men are efficient is proved by such cases as just cited; once the man-to-man appeal is actually brought out, the response is immediate. while such appeals occasionally make a ten-strike, the average correspondent must rely upon logic and "reasons why" in making his appeal to men. the ability to reason from cause to effect, omitting none of the intermediate or connecting steps, has long been held to be a substantial part of the masculine mind. orators have found that logic--conviction--may have little or no effect on a feminine audience and yet prove the surest means of convincing an audience of men. school teachers early note that the feminine portion of the school lean towards grammar--which is imitative and illogical--while the boys are generally best in mathematics, which is a hard and fast "rule" study. similarly in business, the average man is used to "working with his pencil," and will follow a logical demonstration to the close, where a woman would not give it a passing glance. one of the latest selling campaigns, marketing town lots in various new towns between st. paul and the pacific coast, appeals to the logical note in the masculine mind, and grants a concession in a follow-up, even before it is asked for. this makes a particularly strong appeal to the man who has begun to think about the proposition and who senses that, somehow, it is not quite logical. we have a letter from a man who, like you, read our advertisement and sent for more information, including a copy of our contract, and he wrote as follows: "i don't like the forfeiture clause in your contract. under it, if a man paid you $ , and then lost his job and couldn't pay any more, you would have the right to gobble up all of his money and keep the lots too. you wouldn't dare to make a contract with me under which as soon as i had paid you $ you would deed to me the first lot mentioned in my contract--the lot at -----,--and then with each $ paid in on the contract, deed me the next lot named in my contract. if you would do this, i would take your contract in a minute, because i would have some land for my money i paid in, if i had to quit before i paid you the full $ , ." we took this man at his word, and have since thought that possibly there were others who regarded our contract as being too severe. if this was the reason that you did not invest with us, we ask you to examine the enclosed proof sheet, from the printer, of our new contract, and write us not only if it suits you, but if you can think of any other way to make it any more fair and equitable. * * * * * the illustration given is particularly good because it is anticipatory--nips an objection that may be just forming in the mind of the prospect. dear sir: we sent you a sample of our royal mixture tobacco in response to your request some time ago. we are anxious to know what you think about it. this is the best tobacco on the market today at the price, and as we know you would not have asked for a free sample unless you intended to buy more if you liked the sample, we hope to receive your order by return mail. very truly, [signature: morton and morton] * * * * * _a flat, insipid letter entirely without order-pulling force. the attempt to, twist the request for a free sample into an obligation to place an order strokes a man's intentions the wrong way_ * * * * * dear sir: well, how did you find the tobacco? i'm anxious to learn your opinion of boyal mixture, now that you've burned a bit of it in your pipe. i believe in this tobacco, and back it up with a guarantee that removes all risk so far as the customer is concerned. i refund money without argument if you are not satisfied. royal mixture is not intended for smokers who are satisfied with any old stuff that will burn and give off smoke. it is used by people who want nothing but the best and know it when they get it. it's the perfection of pipe tobacco. men who smoke my mixture for a month can't come down to common mixtures again. it spoils the taste for cheap tobacco. smoke a dozen pipes of it and you'll wonder how you ever got any comfort out of ordinary smoking tobacco. royal mixture is skillfully blended from clean, ripe leaves of the very best tobacco grown. it is neither too strong nor too mild--it is precisely what a knowing pipe smoker likes: fragrant, satisfying, delightful to nerves, nostrils and palate. there's a glorious, natural aroma about royal mixture which appeals to a gentleman's nostrils most favorably. particular pipe smokers praise it in the highest terms, and prove the sincerity of their praise by ordering it from month to month. shall i number you among the "regulars?" remember, you can't buy royal mixture from the retail shops. it goes direct from packer to purchaser and reaches you in perfect condition. the cost is so small, and as you take not a particle of risk but can secure full refund of money if dissatisfied, why hesitate to order? the responsibility is entirely upon me. every day you delay ordering means a distinct loss to you of greater pipe pleasure than you have ever experienced. won't you sit down now, while the matter is right before you, fill enclosed blank and mail me your order today--this minute? yours very truly, [signature: l. w. hamilton] * * * * * _here is the letter rewritten, explaining why this tobacco is superior. the appeal is cleverly worded to flatter the recipient into believing he is one of those who know and demand something a little better than common. the cost is kept in the background by the guarantee of satisfaction and the clincher prompts immediate action_ * * * * * appeals to men can be peppered with technical description and still interest and get results. the sales manager of a house selling cameras by mail says, in speaking of this principle: "we found it necessary to use an entirely different series of letters in selling our cameras to men and to women. generally speaking, men are interested in technical descriptions of the parts of the camera; women look at a camera from the esthetic side--as a means to an end. "in writing a sales letter to a man, i take up, for instance, the lens. this i describe in semi-technical terms, stating why this particular lens or combination of lenses will do the best work. then follows a description of the shutter--and so on through the principal parts until, if the prospect be seriously interested, i have demonstrated, first, that the camera will do the best work, and, second, that it is good value for the money. "in writing a letter, under the same conditions, to a woman, i put all technical description in an enclosure or accompanying folder and write a personal note playing up the fact that in after years it will be very pleasant to have pictures of self, family, baby, and friends. "these two appeals are the opposite poles of selling--the one logic and conviction, the other sentiment and persuasion." logic and conviction, in fact, are the keynotes to selling men by mail. men fear being "worked." on those occasions when they have been "worked," it has generally been through sentiment--through the arts of persuasion rather than a clearly-demonstrated conviction that the proposition was right. as a consequence, persuasion alone, without a mass of figures and solid arguments, does not convince a man. a land company uses a novel method of conviction along this line, aiming to get the prospect to furnish his own figures. the idea is, that these figures, prepared by the prospect himself, and the accuracy of which he himself vouches, will work conviction. the letter reads in part: suppose, ten years ago, you had paid down, say $ on a piece of cheap land. then from time to time you had paid in say $ per month on the same land. had you been able to buy then as you can buy from us now, your land would have been secured to you on your first payment. now figure out what you would have paid in at $ per month in ten years. now, remembering that well-selected land doubles in value once, at least, every five years, what would you be worth now, from your $ -a-month investment? * * * * * the letter proved the best puller of a series of try-outs sent to professional men and men on salaries. every man has, as a by-product of his every-day experience, certain more or less clearly defined impressions. with some men these are still in a sort of hazy formation; with others these vague ideas are almost a cult. the letter-writer who can tap one of these lines of thought gets results in a flash. such letter takes a basis of facts common to most men, blends them in the letter written, so as to form fixedly from the _prospect's own ideas and experiences_, a firm conviction that what the writer is saying is absolute truth. a single sentence that does not ring true to a man's experience is an obstacle over which the message will not carry. a company selling land in the west, sent out a five-page letter-- enough to smother whatever interest might have been attracted by the advertisement. here is the third paragraph from the letter: "as you were attracted by this investment opportunity after reading the straight facts regarding it, i have come to believe in your judgment as a careful and prudent person who recognizes the value of a good, permanent, promising investment." * * * * * that's enough! it is barely possible that the first few paragraphs might arouse the reader's interest enough to glance through the five pages, but this crude attempt to flatter him is such palpable "bunk" that he is convinced there is not the sincerity back of the letter to make it worth his while--and five pages more are headed for the car-wheel plant. the "man appeal" is one that draws strongly from man experience. ambition, responsibility, logical arguments, reasons why--these are the things that the correspondent keeps constantly before him. they all have root in experiences, habits of thought and customs which distinguish men; they are more exclusively masculine attributes that play an important part in the make-up of letters that rivet the attention of busy business men. how to write letters that _appeal_ to farmers part vi--the appeal to different classes--chapter _the farmer is a producer of necessities, hence he is a shrewd judge of what necessities are. more, he has always in mind a list of necessities that he intends to purchase--when he "can afford it." for this reason the letter that sells goods to him must either stimulate him to an immediate purchase of an article on his "want list," or to displace a necessity that is already there with something_ more _necessary. so the letter that sells goods to him must appeal to his needs--and give him detailed specifications to think about_ * * * * * "does it appeal to the farmer's need," is the overhead question which is back of all advertising directed at the man living on a farm. it is not necessary to go into proofs; the reasons are apparent. "all other things being equal," says the chief correspondent for one of the big mail-order houses, "the surest sale is the item that the farmer patron feels he must have. even after making money enough to be classed well-to-do, the farmer persists in his acquired mental habit--he tests every 'offer' put up to him by his need for it--or rather whether he can get along without it. this predisposition on the part of the audience to which the letter is addressed is to be borne in mind constantly--that the farmer thinks in terms of necessities." so the mail-order firm shapes its appeal to the farmer, emphasizing the need of the merchandise it is offering, and at the same time it bears down heavily on the advantages of buying direct. and while the easiest way to reach the farmer's purse is by appealing to his needs--the practical value of the article or goods advertised--the correspondent must keep constantly in mind the particular manner in which the appeal can best be made. the brief, concise statement that wins the approval of the busy business man would slide off the farmer's mind without arousing the slightest interest. the farmer has more time to think over a proposition--as he milks or hitches up, as he plows or drives to town, there is opportunity to turn a plan over and over in his mind. give him plenty to think about. the farmer's mail is not so heavy but what he has time to read a long letter if it interests him, and so the successful correspondent fills two or three pages, sometimes five or six, and gives the recipient arguments and reasons to ponder over during his long hours in the field. one of the most successful men in the mail-order business sometimes sends out a seven-page letter, filled with talking points. "it will save you money"--"i want you to compare the challenge with other machines"--"shafting of high carbon steel"--"gearings set in phosphorus bronze bushings"--"thirty days' free trial"--"try it with your money in your own pocket"--"$ , guaranty bond"--point after point like these are brought out and frequently repeated for emphasis. the head of the english department in the university would be pained at the lack of literary quality, but it is a farmer's letter and it follows the grooves of the brain in the man who is going to read its seven pages. and after all, the writer is not conducting a correspondence course in rhetoric; he is selling implements and is not going to chance losing an order because his proposition is not made perfectly clear--because it shoots over the head of the reader. and the correspondent not only tries to make his proposition clear but he tries to get up close to the recipient in a friendly way. the farmer is awed by formalities and so the writer who really appeals to him talks about "you and me." "you do that and i will do this-- then we will both be satisfied." one successful letter-salesman seldom fails to ask some direct question about the weather, the crops, the general outlook, but he knows how to put it so that it does not sound perfunctory and frequently the farmer will reply to this question without even referring to the goods that the house had written about. never mind! this letter is answered as promptly and carefully as if it had been an inquiry forecasting a large order. * * * * * how different arguments appeal to farmers price _paramount_ quality _essential_ style _unimportant_ sentiment _lacking_ flattery _useless_ exclusiveness _ineffective_ testimonials _reassuring_ reputation _valuable_ utility _vital_ service _appreciated_ * * * * * such attention helps to win the confidence of the farmer and the knowing correspondent never loses sight of the fact that the farmer is, from bitter experience, suspicious especially of propositions emanating from concerns that are new to him. after one or two satisfactory dealings with a house he places absolute faith in it but every legitimate mail-order concern is handicapped by the fact that unscrupulous firms are continually lying in wait for the unwary: the man with the county rights for a patent churn and his brother who leaves a fanning mill with a farmer to demonstrate and takes a receipt which turns up at the bank as a promissory note are teaching the farmers to be guarded. many of them can spot a gold brick scheme as soon as it is presented. therefore the correspondent has to keep before him the fact that the farmer is always wary; his letters must be so worded that no obscure phrase will arouse suspicion; no proposition will admit of two interpretations. so the guarantee and the free trial offer are essential features in letters that sell the farmer. in hundreds of letters from manufacturers of goods that are sold by mail to the farmer, nearly every one throws into prominence the guarantee and the free trial offer with money refunded if the purchase does not prove satisfactory. a manufacturer of farm implements puts this guarantee into the first person effectively. such a letter carries conviction; you are impressed by the fact that , farmers consider this spreader the best; the offer of comparison and demonstration seems conclusive that a comparison is not necessary; you feel that the man who bought a different kind of spreader must have acted hastily without investigating the merits of this particular machine. the farmer is usually open to conviction but he has to be "shown." after he has had successful dealings with a house for several years he readily accepts its assurance that something is just as good at a less price than what he would buy of a retailer, but he can most easily be won over by strong "why" copy. an educational campaign is almost always necessary for the farmer who has never bought goods by mail; to pull him out of the rut of established custom it is necessary to present facts and figures to convince him that the direct-to-the-consumer method is to his advantage. to get this to the eye and mind in a striking way is the first requisite. a cincinnati firm selling buggies uses a comparative table at the bottom of the first sheet of the first follow-up, as follows: * * * * * cost of retail plan cost of our plan actual factory cost of buggy.. $ . factory cost..... $ . factory selling expense....... . selling expense.. . salesmen's expense............ . our profit....... . factory profit................ . our selling ----- retailer's selling expense.... . price............ $ . retailer's profit............. . ----- dealer's selling price $ . * * * * * this makes the prospect stop and think if not stop and figure. another carriage manufacturing company uses a somewhat similar method of comparison but introduces it at a different point. between the first and second pages of a three-page follow-up, a sheet in facsimile handwriting is introduced forming a marked comparison, mechanically, to the typewriting preceding and following it: * * * * * * problems of dollars and cents saving easily solved. retail dealer's plan of figuring selling price. actual factory cost of buggy.................... $ . expense and salary, traveling salesman, about % . jobber's profit--at least % .................. . retail dealer's profit (figured very low)....... . losses from bad debts........................... . ----- retail dealer's selling price................... $ . my plan of figuring selling price. actual factory cost of buggy.................... $ . expense and salary of traveling salesman........ nothing jobber's profit................................. nothing retail dealer's profit.......................... nothing losses from bad debts........................... nothing my _one small gross_ profit................ . ----- my selling price................................ $ . * * * * * this "saving sheet" can not fail to attract greater attention by means of its form and place of introduction than though it were typewritten and in regular order. right-out-from-the-shoulder arguments and facts may also be used to good advantage in handling competition. what the farmer wants is to know whether the other goods are as represented; whether the proposition has any holes in it. if the seller can give him facts that prove his product better than others, honestly and fairly, it does not boost the competitor but helps to sell his own goods. a cream separator manufacturer claiming a simple machine now presents in his catalogue illustrations of the parts of other machines used in the actual separation of the cream from the milk. this comparison shows that his machine has fewer parts and consequently will stay in repair longer and clean easier--two important talking points. where a competing firm enters the field with a cheap quality of goods that would react against the trade, it is sometimes policy to put the facts before the prospective buyers. this was done by a winnipeg manufacturer of metal culverts after the following plan: "last may a firm manufacturing metal goods attempted to enter the culvert field in western canada. we sent out a letter to every councilor in manitoba and saskatchewan showing the weakness of its culverts. it looks as though our letter settled all chance of selling the kind of culvert it was making, for it immediately quit the campaign for business. we do not think a single culvert was sold. "the same company is again making an effort to enter the field, and we would be pleased to see it get a nice business if it sold a good culvert, but as long as it sells anything like the one now advertised we shall most vigorously oppose it because we are certain the culverts will not give satisfaction, and that will mean purchasers will be very much disappointed, and will have a tendency, as a result, to be opposed to all metal culverts; their disappointment will be so great that it will react against our company. "look at the illustration in the magazines of the nestable culvert--a man is pinching the metal on the lower section of the culvert back upon itself. there are very few machine shops in the country in which the heavy metal we use could be bent. at any rate, to bend back our metal, you would require a machine shop wherever you were doing your road work. take a sledge hammer the next time you see one of our culverts and prove to yourself the task that would be before you to bend our culverts. you simply could not do it." * * * * * the farmer who receives such a letter, if not entirely convinced, is at least reasonably certain to make an investigation before placing an order with the firm selling culverts that can be bent by hand. and it is probably a good thing for the mail-order business that such efforts are being made to protect the public against inferior goods. experience has shown that while offers to the farmer must be clear cut, the chances of pulling an order are increased if he is given a number of options as to price, plan of payment and different kinds of items open to purchase. he does not like to be restricted to one particular item, or one arbitrary form of payment. this fact was long ago recognized by the large catalogue houses, for they aim to offer several kinds and sizes under every item listed. it has been found that where both the number of items and options in a line is doubled or otherwise substantially increased, that the percentage of sales immediately increases. a company in canton, ohio, putting out a line of sprayers, offers on the back of its order sheet four sprayers of different prices and four forms of making payment for each sprayer. this gives the prospect sixteen options--one of which will look best to him, when he sends in his order. this information is printed on the back of the order sheet, where it can not get separated from it and where it will have a "last appeal." the mail-order houses have been vieing with each other in trying to find unique appeals to the farmer. to this end profit-sharing plans and various premium schemes have been introduced, in some cases with phenomenal results. while the farmer is no different from the ordinary public in wanting to get his money's worth he is open to conviction through smaller devices than is his city brother. and the "novelty device" appeals to him strongly. an ohio company putting out buggies as a main product, adds an insurance policy as a clincher. the purchaser is himself insured for one hundred dollars payable to his heirs in case of his death; the buggy carries an indemnity--not to exceed fifty dollars--covering accidents along the line of breakage or damage in accidents or smash-ups. this insurance, under the policy given, is kept in force a year. this extra not only acts as a sales argument but a basis for a talk like this: "the s. & w. pleasure vehicles have been tested by insurance company officials. they have been proved practically unbreakable, the material and durability surprising the insurance officials. insurance is not issued on sickly persons, weak buildings nor on inferior vehicles. it is because our vehicles are so well made that insurance is permitted." * * * * * this makes a convincing talking point, particularly to the man who is not familiar with accident indemnity, and to the young man who is about to buy a "rig" in which he may attempt to demonstrate that no other man can pass him on the road. when it comes to framing up a campaign there are many points, minor in themselves, but each having its significance, that it is well to consider. it frequently happens that not enough attention is paid to the stationery that is used for farmers, but all these things have their influence in prejudicing the recipient for or against a new house. "it is a good rule in writing the farmer to diversify your stationery," says a mail-order man who has sold a wide range of specialties. "the reason for this lies in the fact that when a farmer has been drummed about so much he may grow resentful at the persistence. we aim, not only to present the proposition very differently each time, but we use different size envelopes, different letterheads and markedly different enclosures in each follow-up. "particularly along rural routes, where the men folks are in the field when the carrier comes, i aim to change envelopes and letterheads. i never want the housewife to be able to say to the man of the house when he asks what mail came, that 'there's another letter from the firm that's trying to sell you a cream separator'." to make ordering easier and to get the farmer to "act now" a coupon or an enclosed postal card, good for a limited number of days is widely used. this makes it easier to send for catalogue or a free trial or whatever is advertised. it is a spur to action and results in adding to the mailing list, names of many persons who might never respond if they had to wait until they found pen or pencil and paper--and a convenient opportunity. a rebate check is another popular scheme for inducing the customer to order. an old mail-order house calls attention in the first form letter sent out with a catalogue to the fact that accompanying it is a check for one dollar to apply on the first order. this order is made out in the form of a personal check, filled in with the prospect's name. it is, to all intents and purposes, a personal check, only payable in goods instead of cash. similar use of the check method of exciting interest is also used by a detroit incubator manufacturer, who finds that many who have resisted other appeals answer to the chance to convert a check into a saving. this same firm also adds as a clincher an offer to pay the freight on certain lines of goods, so that the catalogue price becomes actual cost instead of cost plus freight charges. such inducements come home to the farmer; anything on the "something-for-nothing" order appeals to him. aside from the nature of the proposition and the way it is presented, there is the all-important element of seasonableness. the man who has always lived in the city might understand the general principles of mail-order selling and have a good proposition, but his success would be indifferent unless he understood the meaning of timeliness in reaching the farmer. if your letter or advertisement catches the eye of the farmer he will in all probability put it away in the shoe box back of the chimney until ready to buy; it would be almost impossible to train enough guns on him during the rush season to force his interest. it is a common experience with mail-order houses to receive replies to letters or advertisements six months or a year after they are sent out--sometimes years afterwards. the message was timely; it wormed its way into the farmer's "mental want list" and blossomed forth when he felt that he could afford the article. only a carefully kept record-of-returns sheet or book will show when sales can best be made on a particular item, and the shrewd manager will test out different items at different seasons before launching a big campaign which may be ill-timed. "the winter months are the best time for comprehensive information to soak in--but the letter generally is not the place for this. put personality in the letter--specifications in the circular." this is the advice of an experienced correspondent whose length of service enables him to speak authoritatively. "a winter letter may be long, verbose and full of interesting information; the farmer will read it carefully. this is the time to get in specifications, estimates, complicated diagrams and long arguments which require study. letters for the work months need to be short and snappy, both to insure reading and to act on a tired mind." and then finally the proposition must be made so plain that there is no possibility of its being misinterpreted. what a city man who is a wide reader gets at a glance, the ordinary farm owner or farmer's boy--often with only a rudimentary knowledge of english--must study over. "so needful is the observance of this principle in our business," says this manager, "that our sales letters have come to be almost a formula. first we state our proposition. we then proceed to take up each element of the offer and make it as plain and plausible as possible." in this case the elements are: . the thing offered. . time of trial. . freight paid. . return privilege. "all the letter is a plain exposition of , , , --the preceding paragraphs are summarized and connected. for instance, after the item offered has been treated and the length of trial made clear, the two are summarized thus: "the _separator_ we offer is not only the best that money can buy but it is _just what you need_--no wonder we are willing to give you days in which to try it. "but what about freight?" "just this." * * * * * "then we explain freight paid and return privilege. this gives a continuous and increasing summary straight through the letter, which closes with a recapitulation of the proposition. "the aim of putting several summaries of the proposition in all sales matter is so that there can be no possible mistake about the proposition, for thousands of propositions are turned down by people on farms simply because the reader does not quite understand everything." the farmer is in constant dread of "being caught" and there is little likelihood of his taking advantage of any offer that is not absolutely clear in his mind. the letter writer must realize what a point this is with the average farmer. what a city man does he can keep to himself; if he buys a gold brick he gets rid of it and forgets the transaction just as quickly as possible. but what the farmer does is neighborhood gossip. if one of those "slick city fellers" sells him something he can't use, every one knows it. make the proposition clear--so clear that every one in the family can understand it, for usually purchases are talked over for days before an order is finally sent out. take into account the farmer's suspicious nature and bear down heavily on the utility of the article. there is no hidden mystery in reaching the rural prospects but they must be handled with discretion and with an understanding of the prejudices, characteristics and viewpoints of the farmer. scanned images of public domain material from the google print archive. books by edwin lefevre sampson rock of wall street. illustrated. post vo. h. r. illustrated. post vo. * * * * * harper & brothers, new york [illustration: she petrified herself when she beheld the man who had made her famous] [illustration: h. r.] by edwin lefevre [illustration] harper & brothers new york and london mcmxv copyright, , by harper & brothers to robert hobart davis _my dear bob: in dedicating this book to you, i do more than follow the selfish impulse of pleasing myself. it was you who warned me that none of the usual fiction-labels would fit "h. r." to irritate the reader by compelling him to think in order to understand was, you told me, both unfair and unwise. but a writer occasionally may be permitted to please himself, and if his experiment fails there remains the satisfaction of having tried. i have not labelled my jokes explicitly nor have i written a single foot-note in the middle of a page. i have endeavored to reproduce a recognizable atmosphere by intentionally exaggerating certain phases of the attitude of new york toward the eternal verities. not even for purposes of contrast have i felt bound to have a nice character in the book. but if the reader fails to get what you so clearly understood, and if the critics point out how completely i have failed to write a satirical romance of to-day, i can at least make certain of having one line in this volume with which none may find fault. and that, great and good friend, is the line at the top of this page._ _e. l._ _dorset, vt., june, ._ h. r. i the trouble was not in being a bank clerk, but in being a clerk in a bank that wanted him to be nothing but a bank clerk. that kind always enriches first the bank and later on a bit of soil. hendrik rutgers had no desire to enrich either bank or soil. he was blue-eyed, brown-haired, clear-skinned, rosy-cheeked, tall, well-built, and square-chinned. he always was in fine physical trim, which made people envy him so that they begrudged him advancement, but it also made them like him because they were so flattered when he reduced himself to their level by not bragging of his muscles. he had a quick-gaited mind and much fluency of speech. also the peculiar sense of humor of a born leader that enabled him to laugh at what any witty devil said about others, even while it prevented him from seeing jokes aimed at his sacred self. he not only was congenitally stubborn--from his dutch ancestors--but he had his gascon grandmother's ability to believe whatever he wished to believe, and his scandinavian great-grandfather's power to fill himself with berserker rage in a twinkling. this made him begin all arguments by clenching his fists. having in his veins so many kinds of un-american blood, he was one of the few real americans in his own country, and he always said so. it was this blood that now began to boil for no reason, though the reason was really the spring. he had acquired the american habit of reading the newspapers instead of thinking, and his mind therefore always worked in head-lines. this time it worked like this: more money and more fun! being an american, he instantly looked about for the best rung of the ladder of success. he had always liked the cashier. a man climbs at first by his friends. later by his enemies. that is why friends are superfluous later. hendrik, so self-confident that he did not even have to frown, approached the kindly superior. "mr. coster," he said, pleasantly, "i've been on the job over two years. i've done my work satisfactorily. i need more money." you could see from his manner that it was much nicer to state facts than to argue. the cashier was looking out of the big plate-glass window at the wonderful blue sky--new york! april! he swung on his swivel-chair and, facing hendrik rutgers, stared at a white birch by a trout stream three hundred miles north of the bank. "huh?" he grunted, absently. then the words he had not heard indented the proper spot on his brain and he became a kindly bank cashier once more. "my boy," he said, sympathetically, "i know how it is. everybody gets the fit about this time of year. what kind of a fly would you use for-- i mean, you go back to your cage and confine your attention to the k-l ledger." a two hours walk in the westchester hills would have made these two men brothers. instead, hendrik allowed himself to fill up with that anger which is apt to become indignation, and thus lead to freedom. anger is wrath over injury; indignation is wrath over injustice: hence the freedom. "i am worth more to the bank than i'm getting. if the bank wants me to stay--" "hendrik, i'll do you a favor. go out and take a walk. come back in ten minutes--cured! "thanks, mr. coster. but suppose i still want a raise when i come back? "then i'll accept your resignation." "but i don't want to resign. i want to be worth still more to the bank so that the bank will be only too glad to pay me more. i don't want to live and die a clerk. that would be stupid for me, and also for the bank." "take the walk, hen. then come back and see me." "what good will that do me?" "as far as i can see, it will enable you to be fired by no less than the big chief himself. tell morson you are going to do something for me. walk around and look at the people--thousands of them; they are working! don't forget that, hen; working; _making regular wages_! good luck, my boy. i've never done this before, but you caught me fishing. i had just hooked a three-pounder," he finished, apologetically. hendrik was suffocating as he returned to his cage. he did not think; he felt--felt that everything was wrong with a civilization that kept both wild beasts and bank clerks in cages. he put on his hat, told the head bookkeeper he was going on an errand for mr. coster, and left the bank. the sky was pure blue and the clouds pure white. there was in the air that which even when strained through the bank's window-screens had made hendrik so restless. to breathe it, outdoors, made the step more elastic, the heartbeats more vigorous, the thoughts more vivid, the resolve stronger. the chimneys were waving white plumes in the bright air--waving toward heaven! he wished to hear the song of freedom of streams escaping from the mountains, of the snow-elves liberated by the sun; to hear birds with the spring in their throats admitting it, and the impatient breeze telling the awakening trees to hurry up with the sap. instead, he heard the noises that civilized people make when they make money. also, whenever he ceased to look upward, in the place of the free sunlight and the azure liberty of god's sky, he beheld the senseless scurrying of thousands of human ants bent on the same golden errand. when a man looks down he always sees dollar-chasing insects--his brothers! he clenched his fists and changed, by the magic of the season, into a fighting-man. he saw that the ant life of wall street was really a battle. men here were not writing on ledgers, but fighting deserts, and swamps, and mountains, and heat, and cold, and hunger; fighting nature; fighting her with gold for more gold. it followed that men were fighting men with gold for more gold! so, of course, men were killing men with gold for more gold! so greatly has civilization advanced since the jews crucified him for interfering with business, that to-day man not only is able to use dollars to kill with, but boasts of it. "fools!" he thought, having in mind all other living men. after he definitely classified humanity he felt more kindly disposed toward the world. after all, why should men fight nature or fight men? nature was only too willing to let men live who kept her laws; and men were only too willing to love their fellow-men if only dollars were not sandwiched in between human hearts. he saw, in great happy flashes, the comfort of living intelligently, brothers all, employers and employed, rid of the curse of money, the curse of making it, the curse of coining it out of the sweat and sorrow of humanity. "fools!" this time he spoke his thought aloud. a hurrying broker's clerk smiled superciliously, recognizing a stock-market loser talking of himself to himself, as they all do. but hendrik really had in mind bank clerks who, instead of striking off their fetters, caressed them as though they were the flesh of sweethearts; or wept, as though tears could soften steel; or blasphemed, as though curses were cold-chisels! and every year the fetters were made thicker by the blacksmith habit. to be a bank clerk, now and always; now and always nothing! he now saw all about him hordes of sheep-hearted things with pens behind their ears and black-cloth sleeve-protectors, who said, with the spitefulness of eunuchs or magazine editors: "_you also are of us!_" he would _not_ be of them! he might not be able to change conditions in the world of finance, not knowing exactly how to go about it, but he certainly could change the financial condition of hendrik rutgers. he would become a free man. he would do it by getting more money, if not from the bank, from somebody else. in all imperfectly christianized democracies a man must capitalize his freedom or cease to be free. he returned to the bank. he was worth thousands to it. this could be seen in his walk. and yet when the cashier saw hendrik's face he instantly rose from his chair, held up a hand to check unnecessary speech, and said: "come on, rutgers. you are a damned fool, but i have no time to convince you of it. you understand, of course, that you'll never work for us again!" "i shall tell the president." "yes, yes. he'll fire you." "not if he is intelligent, he won't," said rutgers, with assurance. the cashier looked at him pityingly and retorted: "a long catalogue of your virtues and manifold efficiency will weigh with him as much as two cubic inches of hydrogen. but i warned you." "i know you did," said hendrik, pleasantly. whereupon coster frowned and said: "you are in class b--eight hundred dollars a year. in due time you will be promoted to class c--one thousand dollars. you knew our system and what the prospects were when you came to us. other men are ahead of you; they have been here longer than you. we want to be fair to all. if you were going to be dissatisfied you should not have kept somebody else out of a job." hendrik did not know how fair the bank was to clerks in class c. he knew they were not fair to one man in class b. facts are facts. arguments are sea-foam. "you say i kept somebody out of a job?" he asked. "yes, you did!" the cashier's tone was so accusing that hendrik said: "don't call a policeman, mr. coster." "and don't you get fresh, rutgers. now see here; you go back and let the rise come in the usual course. i'll give you a friendly tip: once you are in class c you will be more directly under my own eye!" instead of feeling grateful for the implied promise, hendrik could think only that they classified men like cattle. all steers weighing one thousand pounds went into pen b, and so on. this saved time to the butchers, who, not having to stop in order to weigh and classify, were enabled to slit many more throats per day. he did not know it, but he thought all this because he wished to go fishing. therefore he said: "i've got to have more money!" his fists clenched and his face flushed. he thought of cattle, of the ox-making bank, of being driven from pen a into pen b, and, in the end, fertilizer. "i've got to!" he repeated, thickly. "you won't get it, take it from me. to ask for it now simply means being instantly fired." "being fired" sounded so much like being freed that hendrik retorted, pleasantly: "mr. coster, you may yet live to take your orders from me, if i am fired. but if i stay here, you never will; that's sure." the cashier flushed angrily, opened his mouth, magnanimously closed it, and, with a shrug of his shoulders, preceded hendrik rutgers into the private office of the president. "mr. goodchild," said coster, so deferentially that hendrik looked at him in surprise for a full minute before the surprise changed into contempt. mr. goodchild, the president, did not even answer. he frowned, deliberately walked to a window and stared out of it sourly. a little deal of his own had gone wrong, owing to the stupidity of a subordinate. _he had lost money!_ he was a big man with jowls and little puffs under the eyes; also suspicions of purple in cheeks and nose and suspicions of everybody in his eyes. presently he turned and spat upon the intruders. he did it with one mild little word: "well?" he then confined his scowl to the cashier. the clerk was a species of the human dirt that unfortunately exists even in banks and has to be apologized for to customers at times, when said dirt, before arrogance, actually permits itself vocal chords. they spoil the joy of doing business, damn 'em! "this is the k-l ledger clerk," said coster. "he wants a raise in salary. i told him 'no,' and he then insisted on seeing you." years of brooding over the appalling possibility of having to look for another job had made the cashier a skilful shirker of responsibilities. he always spoke to the president as if he were giving testimony under oath. "when one of these chaps, mr. coster," said the president in the accusing voice bank presidents use toward those borrowers whose collateral is inadequate, "asks for a raise and doesn't get it he begins to brood over his wrongs. people who think they are underpaid necessarily think they are overworked. and that is what makes socialists of them!" he glared at the cashier, who acquiesced, awe-strickenly: "yes, sir!" "as a matter of fact," pursued the president, still accusingly, "we should reduce the bookkeeping force. dawson tells me that at the metropolitan national they average one clerk to two hundred and forty-two accounts. the best we've ever done is one to one hundred and eighty-eight. reduce! good morning." "mr. goodchild," said hendrik rutgers, approaching the president, "won't you please listen to what i have to say?" mr. goodchild was one of those business men who in their desire to conduct their affairs efficiently become mind-readers in order to save precious time. he knew what rutgers was going to say, and therefore anticipated it by answering: "i am very sorry for the sickness in your family. the best i can do is to let you remain with us for a little while, until whoever is sick is better." he nodded with great philanthropy and self-satisfaction. but hendrik said, very earnestly: "if i were content with my job i wouldn't be worth a whoop to the bank. what makes me valuable is that i want to be more. every soldier of napoleon carried a marshal's baton in his knapsack. that gave ambition to napoleon's soldiers, who always won. let your clerks understand that a vice-presidency can be won by any of us and you will see a rise in efficiency that will surprise you. mr. goodchild, it is a matter of common sense to--" "get out!" said the president. ordinarily he would have listened. but he had lost money; that made him think only of one thing--that he had lost money! the general had suddenly discovered that his fortress was not impregnable! he did not wish to discuss feminism. of course, hendrik did not know that the president's request for solitude was a confession of weakness and, therefore, in the nature of a subtle compliment. and therefore, instead of feeling flattered, hendrik saw red. it is a common mistake. but anger always stimulated his faculties. all men who are intelligent in their wrath have in them the makings of great leaders of men. the rabble, in anger, merely becomes the angry rabble--and stays rabble. hendrik rutgers aimed full at george g. goodchild, esq., a look of intense astonishment. "get out!" repeated the president. hendrik rutgers turned like a flash to the cashier and said, sharply: "didn't you hear? _get out!_" "you!" shouted mr. george g. goodchild. "who? _me?_" hendrik's incredulity was abysmal. "yes! you!" and the president, dangerously flushed, advanced threateningly toward the insolent beast. "what?" exclaimed hendrik rutgers, skeptically. "do you mean to tell me you really are the jackass your wife thinks you?" fearing to intrude upon private affairs, the cashier discreetly left the room. the president fell back a step. had mrs. goodchild ever spoken to this creature? then he realized it was merely a fashion of speaking, and he approached, one pudgy fist uplifted. the uplift was more for rhetorical effect than for practical purposes, which has been a habit with most uplifts since money-making became an exact science. but hendrik smiled pleasantly, as his forebears always did in battle, and said: "if i hit you once on the point of the jaw it'll be the death-chair for mine. i am young. please control yourself." "you infernal scoundrel!" "what has mrs. goodchild ever done to me, that i should make her a widow?" you could see he was sincerely trying to be not only just, but judicial. the president of the bank gathered himself together. then, as one flings a dynamite bomb, he utterly destroyed this creature. "you are _discharged_!" "tut, tut! i discharged the bank ages ago; i'm only waiting for the bank to pack up. now you listen to me." "leave this room, sir!" he said it in that exact tone of voice. but hendrik did not vanish into thin air. he commanded, "take a good look at me!" the president of the bank could not take orders from a clerk in class b. discipline must be maintained at any cost. he therefore promptly turned away his head. but hendrik drew near and said: "do you hear?" there was in the lunatic's voice something that made mr. george g. goodchild instantly bethink himself of all the hold-up stories he had ever heard. he stared at hendrik with the fascination of fear. "what do you see?" asked rutgers, tensely. "a human soul? no. you see k-l. you think machinery means progress, and therefore you don't want men, but machines, hey?" the president did not see k-l, as at the beginning of the interview. instead of the two enslaving letters he saw two huge, emancipating fists. this man was far too robust to be a safe clerk. he had square shoulders. yes, he had! the president was not the ass that hendrik had called him. his limitations were the limitations of all irreligious people who regularly go to church. he thus attached too much importance to to-day, though perhaps his demand loans had something to do with it. his sense of humor was altogether phrasal, like that of most multimillionaires. but if he was too old a man to be consistently intelligent, he was also an experienced banker. he knew he had to listen or be licked. he decided to listen. he also decided, in order to save his face, to indulge in humorous speech. "young man," he asked, with a show of solicitude, "do you expect to become governor of new york?" but hendrik was not in a smiling mood, because he was listening to a speech he was making to himself, and his own applause was distinctly enjoyable, besides preventing him from hearing what the other was saying. that is what makes all applause dangerous. he went on, with an effect of not having been interrupted. "machines never mutiny. they, therefore, are desirable in your system. at the same time, the end of all machines is the scrap-heap. do _you_ expect to end in junk?" "i was not thinking of _my_ finish," the president said, with much politeness. "yes, you are. shall i prove it?" "not now, please," pleaded the president, with a look of exaggerated anxiety at the clock. it brought a flush of anger to hendrik's cheeks, seeing which the president instantly felt that glow of happiness which comes from gratified revenge. ah, to be witty! but his smile vanished. hendrik, his fists clenched, was advancing. the president was no true humorist, not being of the stuff of which martyrs are made. he was ready to recant when, "good morning, daddy," came in a musical voice. hendrik drew in his breath sharply at the narrowness of his escape. she who approached the purple-faced tyrant was the most beautiful girl in all the round world. it was spring. the girl had brought in the first blossoms of the season on her cheeks, and she had captured the sky and permanently imprisoned it in her eyes. she was more than beautiful; she was everything that hendrik rutgers had ever desired, and even more! "er--good morning, mr.--ah--" began the president in a pleasant voice. hendrik waved his hand at him with the familiar amiability we use toward people whose political affiliations are the same as ours at election-time. then he turned toward the girl, looked at her straight in the eyes for a full minute before he said, with impressive gravity: "miss goodchild, your father and i have failed to agree in a somewhat important business matter. i do not think he has used very good judgment, but i leave this office full of forgiveness toward him because i have lived to see his daughter at close range, in the broad light of day." the only woman before whom a man dares to show himself a physical coward is his wife, because no matter what he does she knows him. mr. goodchild was frightened, but he said, blusteringly, "that will do, you--er--_you_!" he pointed toward the door, theatrically. but hendrik put his fingers to his lips and said "hush, george!" and spoke to her again: "miss goodchild, i am going to tell you the truth, which is a luxury mighty rare in a bank president's private office, believe me." she stared at him with a curiosity that was not far from fascination. she saw a well-dressed, well-built, good-looking chap, with particularly bright, understanding eyes, who was on such familiar terms with her father that she wondered why he had never called. "let me say," he pursued, fervently, "without any hope of reward, speaking very conservatively, that you are, without question, the most beautiful girl in all the world! i have been nearly certain of it for some time, but now i _know_. you are not only perfectly wonderful, but wonderfully perfect--all of you! and now take a good look at me--" "yes; just before he is put away," interjected the president, trying to treat tragedy humorously before this female of the species. but for the fear of the newspapers, he would have rung for the private detective whose business was to keep out cranks, bomb-throwing anarchists, and those fellow-christians who wished to pledge their word of honor as collateral on time-loans of less than five dollars. but she thought this friendly persiflage meant that the interesting young man was a social equal as well as a person of veracity and excellent taste. so she smiled non-committally. she was, alas, young! "they will not put me away for thinking what i say," asserted hendrik, with such conviction that she blushed. having done this, she smiled at him directly, that there might be no wasted effort. wasn't it spring, and wasn't he young and fearless? and more than all that, wasn't he a _novelty_, and she a new york woman? "when you hear the name of hendrik rutgers, or see it in the newspapers, remember it belongs to the man who thought you were the only perfectly beautiful girl god ever made. and he has done pretty well at times, you must admit." with some people, both blasphemy and breakfast foods begin with a small "b". the only perfect one thought he was a picturesque talker! "mr. rutgers, i am sorry you must be going," said the president, with a pleasant smile, having made up his mind that this young man was not only crazy, but harmless--unless angered. "but you'll come back, won't you, when you are famous? we should like to have your account." hendrik ignored him. he looked at her and said: "do _you_ prefer wealth to fame? anybody can be rich. but famous? which would you rather hear: _there goes miss $ , -a-year goodchild or that is that wonderful goodchild girl everybody is talking about?_" she didn't know what to answer, the question being a direct one and she a woman. but this did not injure hendrik in her eyes; for women actually love to be compelled to be silent in order to let a man speak--at certain times, about a certain subject. her father, after the immemorial fashion of unintelligent parents, answered for her. he said, stupidly: "it never hurts to have a dollar or two, dear mr. rutgers." "dollar or two! why, there are poor men whose names on your list of directors would attract more depositors to this bank than the name of the richest man in the world. even for your bank, between st. vincent de paul and john d. rockefeller, whom would you choose? dollars! when you can _dream_!" hendrik's eyes were gazing steadily into hers. she did not think he was at all lunatical. but george g. goodchild had reached the limit of his endurance and even of prudence. he rose to his feet, his face deep purple. however, providence was in a kindly mood. at that very moment the door opened and a male stenographer appeared, note-book in hand. civilization does its life-saving in entirely unexpected ways, even outside of hospitals. "_au revoir_, miss goodchild. don't forget the name, will you?" "i won't," she promised. there was a smile on her flower-lips and firm resolve in her beautiful eyes. it mounted to hendrik's head and took away his senses, for he waved his hand at the purple president, said, with a solemnity that thrilled her, "_pray for your future son-in-law!_" and walked out with the step of a conqueror. and the step visibly gained in majesty as he overheard the music of the spheres: "daddy, who is he?" at the cashier's desk he stopped, held out his hand, and said with that valiant smile with which young men feel bound to announce their defeat, "i'm leaving, mr. coster." "good morning," said coster, coldly, studiously ignoring the outstretched hand. rutgers was now a discharged employee, a potential hobo, a possible socialist, an enemy of society, one of the dangerous have-nots. but hendrik felt so much superior to this creature with a regular income that he said, pityingly: "mr. coster, your punishment for assassinating your own soul is that your children are bound to have the hearts of clerks. you are now definitely nothing but a bank cashier. that's what!" "get out!" shrieked the bank cashier, plagiarizing from a greater than he. the tone of voice made the private policeman draw near. when he saw it was hendrik to whom mr. coster was speaking, he instantly smelled liquor. what other theory for an employee's loud talking in a bank? he hoped hendrik would not swear audibly. the bank would blame it on the policeman's lack of tact. "_au revoir._" and hendrik smiled so very pleasantly that the policeman, whose brains were in his biceps, sighed with relief. at the same time the whisper ran among the caged clerks in the mysterious fashion of all bad news--the oldest of all wireless systems! _hendrik rutgers was fired!_ did life hold a darker tragedy than to be out of a job? a terrible world, this, to be hungry in. as hendrik walked into the cage to get his few belongings, pale faces bent absorbingly over their ledgers. to be fed, to grow comfortably old, to die in bed, always at so much per week. ideal! no wonder, therefore, that his erstwhile companions feared to look at what once had been a clerk. and then, too, the danger of contagion! a terrible disease, freedom, in a money-making republic, but, fortunately, rare, and the victims provided with food, lodging, and strait-jackets at the expense of the state. or without strait-jackets: bars. hendrik got his pay from the head of his department, who seemed of a sudden to recall that he had never been formally introduced to this mr. h. rutgers. this filled hendrik at first with great anger, and then with a great joy that he was leaving the inclosure wherein men's thoughts withered and died, just like plants, for the same reason--lack of sunshine. on his way to the street he paused by his best friend--a little old fellow with unobtrusive side-whiskers who turned the ledger's pages over with an amazing deftness, and wore the hunted look that comes from thirty years of fear of dismissal. to some extent the old clerk's constant boasting about the days when he was a reckless devil had encouraged hendrick. "good-by, billy," said hendrik, holding out his hand. "i'm going." little old billy was seen by witnesses talking in public with a discharged employee! he hastily said, "too bad!" and made a pretense of adding a column of figures. "too bad nothing. see what it has done for you, to stay so long. i laid out old goodchild, and the only reason why i stopped was i thought he'd get apoplexy. but say, the daughter-- she is some peach, believe me. i called him papa-in-law to his face. you should have seen him!" billy shivered. it was even worse than any human being could have imagined. "good-by, rutgers," he whispered out of a corner of his mouth, never taking his eyes from the ledger. "you poor old-- no, billy! thank you a thousand times for showing me hendrik rutgers at sixty. thanks!" and he walked out of the bank overflowing with gratitude toward fate that had hung him into the middle of the street. from there he could look at the free sun all day; and of nights, at the unfettered stars. it was better than looking at the greedy hieroglyphics wherewith a stupid few enslaved the stupider many. he was free! he stood for a moment on the steps of the main entrance. for two years he had looked from the world into the bank. but now he looked from the bank out--on the world. and that was why that self-same world suddenly changed its aspect. the very street looked different; the sidewalk wore an air of strangeness; the crowd was not at all the same. he drew in a deep breath. the april air vitalized his blood. this new world was a world to conquer. he must fight! the nearest enemy was the latest. this is always true. therefore hendrik rutgers, in thinking of fighting, thought of the bank and the people who made of banks temples to worship in. all he needed now was an excuse. there was no doubt that he would get it. some people call this process the autohypnosis of the great. two sandwich-men slouched by in opposite directions. one of them stopped and from the edge of the sidewalk stared at a man cleaning windows on the fourteenth story of a building across the way. the other wearily shuffled southward. above his head swayed an enormous amputated foot. rutgers himself walked briskly to the south. to avoid a collision with a hurrying stenographer-girl--if it had been a male he would have used a short jab--he unavoidably jostled the chiropodist's advertisement into the gutter. the sandwich-man looked meekly into rutgers's pugnacious face and started to cross the street. hendrik felt he should apologize, but before his sense of duty could crystallize into action the man was too far away. so hendrik turned back. the other sandwich-man was still looking at the window-cleaner on the fourteenth story across the street. happening to look down, he saw coming a man who looked angry. therefore the sandwich-man meekly stepped into the gutter, out of the way. it was the second time within one minute! hendrik stopped and spoke peevishly to the meek one in the gutter: "why did you move out of my way?" the sandwich-man looked at him uneasily; then, without answering, walked away sullenly. "here i am," thought rutgers, "a man without a job; and there he is, a man with a job and afraid of me!" something was wrong--or right. something always is, to the born fighter. who could be afraid of a man without a job but sandwich-men who always walked along the curb so they could be pushed off into the gutter among the other beasts? nobody ever deliberately became a sandwich-man. when circumstances, the police, hopeless inefficiency, or shattered credit prevented a hobo from begging, stealing, murdering, or getting drunk, he became a sandwich-man in order to live until he could rise again. whatever a sandwich-man changed himself into, it was always advancement. once a sandwich-man, never again a sandwich-man. it was not boards they carried, but the printed certificates of hopelessness. men who could not keep steady jobs became either corpses or sandwich-men. the sandwich illustrated the tyranny of the regular income just as the need of a regular income illustrated the need of christianity. the sandwich thus had become the spirit of the times. the spring-filled system of hendrik rutgers began to react for a second time to a feeling of anger, and this for a second time turned his thoughts to fighting. to fight was to conquer. there were two ways of conquering--by fighting with gold and by fighting with brains. who won by gold perished by gold. that was why a numismatical bourgeoisie never fought. hendrik had no gold. so he would fight with brains. he therefore would win. also, he would fight for his fellow-men, which would make his fight noble. that is called "hedging," for defeat in a noble cause is something to be proud of in the newspapers. the reason why all hedging is intelligent is that victory is always victory when you talk about it. the sandwich-men were the scum of the earth. _ah!_ it was a thrilling thought: to lead men who could no longer fight for themselves against the world that had marred their immortal souls; and then to compel that same world to place three square meals a day within their astonished bellies! the man who could make the world do that could do anything. since he could do anything, he could marry a girl who not only was very beautiful, but had a very rich and dislikable father. the early christians accomplished so much because they not only loved god, but hated the devil. hendrik rutgers found both the excuse and the motive power. one minute after a man of brains perceives the need of a ladder in order to climb, the rain of ladders begins. the chest-inflating egotism of the monopolistic tendency, rather than the few remaining vestiges of christianity, keeps protestants in america from becoming socialists. hendrik filled his lungs full of self-oxygen and of the consciousness of power for good, and decided to draw up the constitution of his union. he would do it himself in order to produce a perfect document; perfect in everything. a square deal; no more, no less. that meant justice toward everybody, even toward the public. this union, being absolutely fair, would be more than good, more than intelligent; it would pay. carried away by his desire to help the lowest of the low, he constituted himself into a natural law. he would grade his men, be the sole judge and arbiter of their qualifications, and even of their proper wages. hendrik walked back toward the last sandwich-man and soon overtook him. "hey, there, you!" he said, tapping the rear board with his hand. the sandwich-man did not turn about. really, what human being could wish to speak to him? hendrik rutgers walked for a few feet beside the modest artist who was proclaiming to a purblind world the merits of an optician's wares, and spoke again, politely: "i want to see you, on business." the man's lips quivered, then curved downward, immobilizing themselves into a fixed grimace of fear. "i--i 'ain't done no-nothin'," he whined, and edged away. this was what society had done to an immortal soul! "hell!" said hendrik rutgers between clenched teeth. "i'm not a fly-cop. i've just got a plain business proposition to make to you." "if you'll tell me where yer place is, i'll come aroun'--" began the man, so obviously lying that rutgers's anger shifted from society and tyranny on to the thing between sandwich-boards--the thing that refused to be his brother. "you damned fool!" he hissed, fraternally. "you come with me--now." the inverted crescent of the man's lips trembled, and presently there issued from it, "well, i 'ain't done--" charity, which is not always astute, made h. rutgers say with a kindly cleverness to his poor brother, "i'll tell you how you are going to make more money than you ever earned before." the prospect of making more money than he ever earned before brought no name of joy into the blear and furtive eyes. instead, he sidled, crabwise, into the middle of the street. "no, you don't!" said rutgers so menacingly that the sandwich-man shivered. it was clear that, to feed this starving man, force would be necessary. this never discourages the true philanthropist. rutgers, however, feeling that christian forbearance should be used before resorting to the ultimate diplomacy, said, with an earnest amiability: "say, bo, d'you want to fill your belly so that if you ate any more you'd bust?" at the hint of a promise of a sufficiency of food the man opened his mouth, stared at rutgers, and did not speak. he couldn't because he did not close his mouth. "all the grub you can possibly eat, three times a day. grub, bo! all you want, any time you want it. hey? what?" the sandwich-man's open mouth opened wider. in his eyes there was no fear, no hunger, no incredulity, nothing only an abyss deep as the human soul, that returned no answer whatever. "do you want," pursued the now optimistic hendrik rutgers, "to drink all you can hold? the kind that don't hurt you if you drink a gallon! booze, and grub, and a bed, and money in your pocket, and nobody to go through your duds while you sleep. hey?" the sandwich-man spasmodically opened and closed his mouth in the unhuman fashion of a ventriloquist's puppet. rutgers heard the click, but never a word. it filled him with pity. the desire to help such brothers as this grew intense. next to feeding them there was nothing like talking to them about food and drink in a kindly way. "what do you say, bo?" he queried, gently, almost tenderly. the man's teeth chattered a minute before he said, huskily, "wh-what m-must i do?" "let's go to the battery," said rutgers, "and i'll tell you all about it." the mission of history is to prove that fate sends the right man for the right place at the right time. while hendrik rutgers talked, the sandwich-man listened with his stomach; and when hendrik rutgers promised, the sandwich-man believed with his soul. rutgers told fleming that all sandwich-men must join the union; that as soon as he and the other present sandwichers were enrolled on its books no more members would be admitted, except as a superabundance of jobs justified additional admissions; and at that it would require a nine-tenths vote to elect, thus preventing a surplus of labor and likewise a slump in wages. the union would compel advertisers in the future to pay twenty cents an hour and would guarantee both steady work and these wages to its members; there would be neither an initiation fee nor strike-fund assessments; the dues of one cent a day were collectible only when the member worked and received union wages for his day's work. any member could lay off any time he felt like it, unmulcted and unfired. there was only one thing that all sandwich-men had to do to be in good standing; obey the secretary and treasurer of the union--mr. h. rutgers--in all union matters. the sandwich business, once unionized, would become a lucrative profession and therefore highly moral, and therefore its members would automatically cease to be pariahs, notwithstanding congenital fitness for same. anybody who cannot only defy nature, but make her subservient to the wishes of an infinitely higher intelligence, is fit to be a labor-leader. and he generally is. fleming agreed to round up those of his colleagues whose peregrinations extended south of chambers street. he would ask them to come to the battery on the next day at noon. so thrilled was hendrik by his rescue-work among the wreckages that it never occurred to him to doubt his own success. this made him know exactly what to say to fleming. "don't just ask them to come. tell them that there will be free beers and free grub. tell them anything you damn please, but bring them! _do you hear me?_" he gripped the sandwich-man's arm so tightly that fleming's lips began to quiver. "and if you don't bring a bunch, god help you!" "ye-yes, sir; i will. sure!" whimpered fleming, staring fascinatedly at those eyes which both promised and menaced. and in fleming's own eyes hendrik saw the four "b's" which form the great equation of all democracies: _bread + bludgeon = born boss!_ such men always know how to _say_ everything. this is more important than _thinking_ anything. "remember the beer!" brother hendrik spoke pleasantly, and fleming nodded eagerly. "and get on the job," hissed secretary rutgers; and fleming shivered and hurried away before the licking came. hendrik himself walked briskly up-town. when a man is pleased with himself he can always continue in that condition by the simple expedient of continuing to see whatever he wishes to see. hendrik opened his eyes very wide and continued to see the ladder of success that great men use to climb to their changing heaven. hendrik's heaven just then happened to be one in which a man of brains could make the money-makers pay him for allowing them to make money for him. after finding the ladder, all that was necessary was for hendrik to think of george g. goodchild's money. that made him see red; and whenever he saw red he could see no obstacles whatever; and because of his self-inflicted blindness he was intelligently ready to tackle anything, even the job of helping his fellow-men. to be an efficient philanthropist a man must have not only love, but murder, in his heart. that is one of the two hundred and eighty-six reasons why scientific charities make absolutely no inroads on the world's store of poverty. mr. rutgers met the charter members of his union at the time and place indicated by providence through the medium of mr. rutgers's lips. there were fourteen sandwich-men. hendrik, not knowing what to say, gazed at the faces before him in impressive silence. so long as you keep a man guessing, he is at your mercy. orators have already discovered this. "holy smoke! what in the name of maginnis do you call this?" shrieked a messenger-boy. "free freak show?" a crowd gathered about them by magic. opportunity held out its right hand and hendrik rutgers grasped it in both his own. if all new york could be made to talk about him, all new york could be made to pay him, as it always pays for the privilege of talking of the same thing at the same time. you cannot get anybody to talk about the ten commandments; therefore, there is nobody to listen; therefore nobody capitalizes them. it _is_ the first rung that really matters. all other rungs in the ladder of success are easier to find and to fit. hendrik could now gather together his various impulses and thoughts and motives and arrange them in their proper sequence, as great men do, to make easier the work of the historian. it was a crusade that he had undertaken, for the liberation of the most abject of all modern slaves; he had changed the scum of the earth into respectable humanity. that was history. the facts, however, happened to be as follows: he threw up his job because he wished to go fishing, which of course made him angry because his fellow-clerks were slaves, and he therefore got himself discharged by the president, which made him hate the president so that the hatred showed in hendrik's face and made two sandwich-men so afraid that he couldn't help organizing the sandwich-men's union because he could boss it, and that would make people talk about him, which would put money in his pocket; and once he was both rich and famous he would be the equal of the greatest and as such could pick and choose; and he would pick grace goodchild and choose her for his wife, which would make him rich. in europe the ability promptly to recognize the kindness of chance is called opportunism. here we boast of it as the american spirit. that is why american bankers so often find pleasure in proudly informing you that it pays to be honest! "listen, you!" said hendrik to the sandwich-men. these were the tools wherewith he would hammer the first rung into place. they looked at him, incredulous in advance. this attitude on the part of the majority has caused republics at all times to be ruled by the minority. the vice of making money also arose from the fact that suspicious people are so easy to fool that even philosophers succumb to the temptation. "just now you are nothing but a bunch of dirty hoboes. scum of the earth!" it would not do to have followers who had illusions about themselves. this is fundamental. "say, i didn't come here to listen to--" "you--!" said hendrik rutgers, and did not smile. "you came here just exactly for that. see?" and he walked up to within six inches of the speaker, not knowing that his anger gave him the fighting face. "you came to listen to me just as long as i am talking--unless you are pining to spend your last three hours in the hospital. do you get me? which for yours?" "listen!" replied the sandwich-man. he had been poor so long that from force of habit he economized even in words. "by cripes! here i am spending valuable time so as to make you bums into prosperous men--" "where do you come in, bill?" asked a voice from the rear. "i don't have to come in. i am in. you fellows have got to join the union. then you'll get good wages, easy hours, decent--" "yeh; but--" hendrik turned to the man who had interrupted--a short chap advertising a chain of hat-stores and asked, "but what?" "nutt'n!" the hatter had once helped about a prize-fighter's training-quarters, hence the quick duck. "also, you'll have easy--" "easy!" the hatter had spoken prematurely again. "what?" scowled hendrik. "hours," hastily explained the man. "we ask only for fair play," pursued the leader. "yeh; sure!" murmured fleming, with the cold enthusiasm of all paid lieutenants of causes. "and we must make up our minds to play fair with employers, so that employers will play fair with us." "like hell they will!" this was from a tall, thin, toothless chap. reason: tapeworm and booze. name: mulligan. recreation: chiropodist's favorite. "i'll prove it to you," said hendrik, very earnestly. "perhaps _to_ but not _by_ me," muttered mulligan. "union wages will be twenty cents an hour." "never get it!" mumbled an old fellow with what they call waiter's foot--flattened arch. "never!" "never," came in chorus from all the others, their voices ringing with conviction. "i'll have the jobs to give out. i guess i know how much you'll get." the flame of hope lit fourteen pairs of blear eyes. maybe this boob had the cash and desired to separate himself from it. all primitive people think the fool is touched of god. hunger makes men primitive. "i'll fix the wages!" declared hendrik again. he saw himself feeding these men; therefore he felt he owned them absolutely. it isn't, of course, necessary actually to feed people, or even to promise to feed them, to own them. nevertheless, his look of possession imposed on these victims of a democracy. they mutely acknowledged a boss. instantly perceiving this, a sense of kindly responsibility came upon hendrik. these were his children. he said, paternally, "we'll now have a beer--on me!" fleming, to show his divine right to the place of vice-regent, led the way to a joint on washington street. hendrik saw, with carefully concealed delight, the sensation caused even in the syrian-infested streets of the quarter by the sight of a handful of sandwich-men in full regalia. he heard the exclamations that fell from polyglot lips. it was a foretaste of success, the preface of a famous man's biography! the union drank fifteen beers, slowly--and quickly wiped the day's free lunch from the face of the earth. the huskiest of the three bartenders began to work with one hand, the other being glued to a bung-starter. he felt it had to come. "i'm boss!" said hendrik to his children as a preliminary to discussing the by-laws. "i'm willin'!" "same here!" "let 'er go, cap!" "suits _me_!" they were all eager to please him--too eager. it made him ask, disgustedly: "don't you fellows care who is boss?" "naw! don't we have to have one, anyhow?" "yes. but to have one crammed down your throats--" "the beer helps the swallowing, boss," said the hatter with conviction--and a fresh hope! "there doesn't seem to be a man among the whole lot of you," said hendrik. a young fellow of about twenty-eight, very pale, wearing steel-rimmed spectacles, spoke back, "if you'd starved for three weeks and two days, and on top of it been kicked and cheated and held up, there wouldn't be a hell of a lot of fight in you, my wise gazabo." "that's exactly what would make me fight," retorted hendrik, angrily. "each of you has a vote; each of you, therefore, has as much to say as to how this country should be run as any millionaire. don't you know what to do with your vote?" "you're lucky to get a quarter and two nights' lodging nowadays," said the old man with waiter's foot. "the time we elected gilroy i made fifteen bones and was soused for a mont'. shorty mcfadden made thirty-five dollars--" "any of you republicans?" "no!" came in a great and indignant chorus. "i used to be!" defiantly asserted the young man with the spectacles and the pale face and the beaten look. "and now?" "just a lame duck, i guess." "too much rumatism," suggested a husky voice, and all the others laughed. the depths of degradation are reached when you can laugh at your own degradation. "are any of you socialists?" asked hendrik. they looked at him doubtfully. they wished to please him and would have answered accordingly if they had known what he wished to get from them. what they wished to get from him, in the way of speech, was another invitation to tank up. but when in doubt, all men deny. it is good police-court practice. three veterans, therefore, tentatively said: "no!" hendrik was disappointed, but did not show it. he asked, "are any of you christians?" the crowd fell back. "is there one man among you who believes in god?" they stared at one another in the consternation of utter hopelessness. mulligan was the first to break the painful silence. he said, with a sad triumph: "i knew it. stung again! they'll do anything to get you to listen. we fell for it like boobs." "what is that?" said hendrik, sharply. "i was sayin'," replied mulligan, grateful that he was one schooner ahead, anyhow, "that i can listen to a good brother like you by the hour when i ain't thirsty. the dryness in my throat affects my hearin'. if you blow again i'll believe in miracles. how could i help it?" fourteen pairs of eyes turned hopefully toward the wonder-worker. but he said in the habitual tone of all born leaders: "you--bums, get around! i'm going to lick hell out of mulligan. and after that, to show i'm boss, i'll blow again. but first the licking." hendrik gave his hat to fleming to hold and began to turn up his sleeves. but mulligan hastily said, "i'm converted, boss!" and actually looked pious. how he did it, nobody could tell, for he was not a methodist by birth or education. "mulligan, the union wages will be forty schooners a day." hendrik said, sternly. again it was genius--that is, to talk so that men will understand you. "kill the scabs!" shrieked mulligan, and there was murder in his eyes. hendrik rutgers put his right foot firmly on the second rung of the ladder. he did it by spending seventy-five cents for the second time. fifteen beers. "everybody," he said, threateningly, "wait until the schooners are on the bar!" thereby disappointing those who had hoped to ring in an extra glass during the excitement. but all that hendrik desired was to inculcate salutary notions of discipline and obedience under circumstances that try men's souls. he yelled: "damn you, step back! all of you! _back!_" they fell back. the quivering line, now two feet from the beer, did not look at the glasses full of cheer, but at the eyes full of lickings. they gazed at him, open-mouthed; they gazed and kept on gazing, two feet from the bar--the length of the arm from the beer! not obey? after that? there is no doubt of it; they are born! "to the union! all together! _drink!_" they did not observe that this man was regulating even their thirst. the reason they did not notice it was that they were so busy assuaging it. they drank. then they looked at hendrik. he was a law of nature. he shook his head. they understood his "no." it was like death. to save their faces they began to clamor for free lunch. "get to hell out of here!" said the proprietor. "do you want your joint smashed?" asked rutgers. he approached the man and looked at him from across a gulf of six inches that made escape impossible. whatever the proprietor saw in rutgers's eyes made him turn away. "come across with the free lunch," hendrik bade the proprietor. to his men he said, "boys, get ready!" these men-that-were--miserable worms, scum of the earth, walking cuspidors--began to take off their armor. the bartenders were husky, but hadn't the boss commanded, _get ready!_ and didn't all men know he meant, _get ready_ to eat? moreover, each sandwich felt he might dodge the bung-starters, but not the boss's right flipper! the union was making ready to fight with the desperation of men whose retreat is cut on by a foe who never heard of the hague convention. "hey, no rough-house!" yelled the proprietor. "free lunch!" retorted hendrik. then he added, "_quick!_" the sandwich-men's nostrils began to dilate with the contagion of the battle spirit. one after another, these beasts of the gutter took off the boards and leaned them against the wall, out of the way, and eyed the boss expectantly, waiting for the word--_men once more!_ hendrik, with the eye of a strategist and the look of a prize-fighter, planned the attack. like a very wise man who lived to be the most popular of all our presidents, he did his thinking aloud. on occasions like this hendrik's mind also worked in battle-cries and best expressed itself in action. "free lunch," said hendrik, "is free. it is everybody's. it is therefore _ours_!" "give us our grub!" hoarsely cried the union. "three to each bartender," said hendrik. "when i yell 'now!' jump in, from both ends of the bar at once--six of you here; you six over there. fleming, you smash the mirrors back of the bar with those empty schooners. mulligan, you cop some bottles of booze, and wait outside--do you hear? _wait outside!_--for us. i'll attend to the cash-register myself. now, you," he said peremptorily to the proprietor, "do we get the free lunch? _say no; won't you, please?_" hendrik radiated battle. the derelicts took on human traits as their eyes lit up with visions of pillage. fleming grasped a heavy schooner in each hand. mulligan had his eye on three bottles of whisky and, for the first time in years, was using his mind--planning the get-away. the proprietor saw all this and also perceived that he could not afford a victory. it was much cheaper to give them seven cents worth of spoiled rations. therefore he decided in favor of humanity. "do what i told you, jake," he said, with the smile of a man who has inveigled friends into accepting over-expensive christmas presents. "let 'em have the rest of the lunch--_all they want_." he smiled again, much pleased with his kindly astuteness. he was a constructive statesman and would be famous for longevity. but the sandwich-men swaggered about, realizing that under the leadership of the boss they had won; they had obtained something to which they had no right; by threats of force they had secured food; the boss had made men of them. they therefore crowned hendrik king. the instinctive and immemorial craving of all men for a father manifests itself--in republics that have forgotten god--in the election of the great promisers and the great confiscators to the supreme power. history records that no dynasty was ever founded except by a man who fought both for and with his followers. the men that merely fought for their fellows have uniformly died by the most noble and inspiring death of all--starvation. names and posthumous addresses not known. when not a scrap remained on any of the platters, hendrik called his men to him and told them: "meet me at the sign-painter's, corner twenty-ninth street and ninth avenue next friday night after seven. we'll be open till midnight. be sure and bring your boards with you." "we gotter give 'em up before we can get paid," remonstrated mulligan. "if we don't we don't eat." "that's right!" assented a half-dozen. "_bring them!_" said hendrik. the time to check a mutiny is before it begins. "a' right!" came in a chorus of fourteen heroic voices. "beginning next monday, you'll get twenty cents an hour. i guarantee that to you out of my own pocket. you must each of you bring all the other sandwiches you run across. if necessary, drag them. we must have about one hundred to start, if you want forty beers a day." "we do! we do!" "then bring the others, because we've got to begin with enough men in the union to knock the stuffing out of those who try to scab on us. get that?" "sure thing!" they shouted, with the surprised enthusiasm of men who suddenly understand. they were deep in misery and accustomed to a poverty so abject that they no longer were capable of even envying the rich. they, therefore, could hate only those who were poorer than themselves--the men who dared to have thirsts that could be assuaged with less than forty beers per day. not obey the boss, when they already felt an endless stream trickling down their unionized gullets? and not kill the scab whose own non-union thirst would prolong theirs? no! a man owes some things to his fellows, but he owes everything to himself. that is why, for teaching brotherhood, there is nothing like one book: the city directory, from a fourth-floor window. when the boss left them he was certain that they would not fail him. just let them dare try to stay away, after he had so kindly destined them to be the rungs of the ladder on which he expected to climb to his lady's window--and her father's pocket! as he walked away, his confidence in himself showed in his stride so clearly that those who saw him shared that confidence. it is not what they were when they were not leaders, but what they can be when they become leaders, that makes them remarkable men. ii the next morning hendrik went to his tailor. as he walked into the shop he had the air of a man in whom two new suits a day would not be extravagance. the tailor, unconscious of cause and effect, called him "mister," against the habit of years. hendrik nodded coldly and said: "as secretary and treasurer of the national street advertising men's association, i've got to have a new frock-coat. measure me for one." hendrik had the air of a man who sees an unpleasant duty ahead, but does not mean to shirk it. this attitude always commands respect from tailors, clergymen, and users of false weights and measures. "left the bank?" asked the tailor, uncertainly. "i should say i had," answered hendrik, emphatically. "what is the new job, anyhow?" asked the tailor, professionally. his customers usually told him their business, their history, and their hopes. by listening he had been able to invest in real estate. "as i was about to say when you _interrupted_ me"--hendrik spoke rebukingly. "i beg your pardon, mr. rutgers," said the tailor, and blushed. he knew now he should have said "position" instead of "job." the civilization of to-day--including sanitary plumbing--is possible because price-tags were invented. this is not an epigram. "--the clothes must be finished by thursday. if you can't do it, i'll go somewhere else." "oh, we can do it, all right, mr. rutgers." "good morning," and hendrik strode haughtily from the shop. to the tailor hendrik had always been a clerk at a bank. but now it was plain to see that mr. rutgers thought well of himself, as a man with money always does in all christian countries. hendrik's credit at once jumped into the a class. some people and all tailors judge men by their backs. being sure of the guests, hendrik rutgers went forth in search of their dinner. to feed fivescore starving fellow-men was a noble deed; to feed them at the expense of some one else was even higher. so, dressed in his frock-coat, wearing his high hat as though it was a crown, he sought caspar weinpusslacher. the owner of the "colossal restaurant," just off the bowery, gave a square meal for a quarter of a dollar, twenty-five cents; for thirty cents he gave the same meal with a paper napkin and the privilege of repeating the potato or the pie. his kitchen organization was perfect. his cooks and scullions had served in the german army in similar capacities, and he ruled them like one born and brought up in the general staff. his waiters also were recruited from the greatest training-school for waiters in the world. he operated on a system approved by an efficiency expert. by giving low wages to people who were glad to get them, paying cash for his supplies and judiciously selecting the latter just on the eve of their spoiling, he was able to give an astonishingly good meal for the money. his profits, however, depended upon his selling his entire output. this did not always happen. some days herr weinpusslacher almost lost three dollars. no system is perfect. otherwise hotel men would wish to live for ever. hendrik stalked into the colossal dining-room and snarled at one of the waiters: "where's your boss?" the waiter knew it couldn't be the kaiser, or a millionaire. it must therefore be a walking delegate. he deferentially pointed to a short, fat man by the bar. "tell him to come here," said rutgers, and sat down at a table. it isn't so much in knowing whom to order about, but in acquiring the habit of ordering everybody about, that wins. caspar weinpusslacher received the message, walked toward the table and signaled to a herculean waiter, who unobtrusively drew near--and in the rear--of h. rutgers. hendrik pointed commandingly to a chair across the table. c. weinpusslacher obeyed. the herculean waiter, to account for his proximity, flicked non-existent crumbs on the napeless surface of the table. "recklar tinner?" he queried, in his best delmonico. "_geht-weg!_" snarled mr. rutgers. the waiter, a nostalgic look in his big blue eyes, went away. _ach_, to be treated like a dog! ach, the fatherland! and the officers! _ach!_ "weinpusslacher," said rutgers, irascibly, "who is your lawyer and what's his address?" c. weinpusslacher's little pig-eyes gleamed apprehensively. "for why you wish to know?" he said. "don't ask _me_ questions. isn't he your friend?" "sure." "is he smart?" "smart?" c. weinpusslacher laughed now, fatly. "he's too smart for _you_, all right. he's max ondemacher, bowery. i guess if you--" "all right. i'm going to bring him to lunch here." "he wouldn't lunch here. he's got money," said c. weinpusslacher, proudly. "he will come." rutgers looked, in a frozen way, at caspar weinpusslacher, and continued, icily: "i am the secretary and treasurer of the _national_ street advertising men's association. if i told you i wanted _you_ to give _me_ money you'd believe me. but if i told you _i_ wanted to give _you_ money, you wouldn't. so i am going to let your own lawyer tell you to do as i say. i'll make you rich--for nothing!" and hendrik rutgers walked calmly out of the colossal restaurant, leaving in the eyes of c. weinpusslacher astonishment, in the mind respect, and in the heart vague hope. this is the now historic document which hendrik rutgers dictated in max onthemaker's office: hendrik rutgers, secretary and treasurer of the national street advertising men's association, agrees to make caspar weinpusslacher's colossal restaurant famous by means of articles in the leading newspapers in new york city. for these services hendrik rutgers shall receive from said caspar weinpusslacher, proprietor of said colossal restaurant, one-tenth ( / ) of the advertising value of such newspaper notices--said value to be left to a jury composed of the advertising managers of the _ladies home journal_, the jewish _daily forward_, and the new york _evening post_, and of max onthemaker and hendrik rutgers. it is further stipulated that such compensation is to be paid to hendrik rutgers, not in cash, but in tickets for meals in said colossal restaurant, at thirty cents per meal, said meal-tickets to be used by said hendrik rutgers to secure still more desirable publicity by feeding law-abiding, respectable poor people. _panem et circenses!_ he had made sure of the first! the public could always be depended upon to furnish the second by being perfectly natural. m. onthemaker accompanied h. rutgers to the colossal. he had some difficulty in persuading c. weinpusslacher to sign. but as soon as it was done hendrik said: "first gun: the national street advertising men will hold their annual dinner here next saturday, about one hundred of us, thirty cents each; regular dinner. _that_ is legitimate news and will be printed as such. it will advertise the colossal and the colossal thirty-cent dinner. you won't be out a cent. we pay cash for our dinner. i'll supply a few decorations; all you'll have to do is to hang them from that corner to this. you might also arrange to have a little extra illumination in front of the place. have a couple of men in evening clothes and high hats on the corner, pointing to the colossal, and saying: '_weinpusslacher's colossal restaurant! three doors down. just follow the crowd!_' arrange for all these things so that when you see that i am delivering the goods you won't be paralyzed. another thing: there will be reporters from every daily paper in the city here saturday night. provide a table for them and pay especial attention to both dinner and drinks. _they_ will make you famous and rich, because you will tell them that they are getting the regular thirty-cent dinner. it will be up to you to be intelligently generous now so that you may with impunity be intelligently stingy later, when you are rich. i advise you to have max here, because you seem to be of the distrustful nature of most damned fools and therefore must make your money in spite of yourself. next saturday at six p.m.! you'll make at least two hundred thousand dollars in the next five years. now i am going to eat. come on, onthemaker." h. rutgers sat down, summoned the herculean waiter, and ordered two thirty-cent dinners. c. weinpusslacher, a dazed look in his eyes, approached max and whispered, "hey, dot's a smart feller. what?" "well," answered m. onthemaker, lawyer-like, "you haven't anything to lose." "you said i should sign the paper," caspar reminded him, accusingly. "you're all right so long as you don't give him a cent unless i say so." "i won't; not even if you say so." with thirty cents of food and thirty millions of confidence under his waistcoat, hendrik rutgers walked from the colossal restaurant down the bowery and center street to the city hall. at the door of the mayor's room he fixed the doorkeeper with his stern eye and requested his honor to be informed that the secretary of the national street advertising men's association would like to see his honor about the annual dinner of the association, of which his honor had been duly informed. one of the mayor's secretaries came out, a tall young man who, as a reporter on a sensational newspaper, had acquired a habit of dodging curses and kicks. now, as mayor's secretary, he didn't quite know how to dodge soft soap and glad hands. "good afternoon," said hendrik, with what might be called a business-like amiability. "will the mayor accept?" "the mayor," said the secretary with an amazing mixture of condescension and uneasiness, as of a man calling on a poor friend in whose parlor there is shabby furniture but in whose cellar there is a ton of dynamite--"the mayor knows nothing about your asso--of the _dinner_ of your association." the secretary looked pleased at having caught himself in time. "why, i wrote," began h. rutgers, with annoyance, "over a week--" he silenced himself while he opened his frock-coat, tilted back his high hat from a corrugated brow, and felt in his pocket. it is the delivery, not the speech, that distinguishes the great artist. otherwise writers would be considered intelligent people. "hell!" exclaimed hendrik, looking at the secretary so fixedly and angrily that the ex-reporter flinched. "it's in the other coat. i mean the copy of the letter i sent the mayor exactly a week ago to-day. i wondered why he hadn't answered." "he never got it," the secretary hastened to say. hendrik laughed. "you must excuse my language; but you know what it is to arrange all the details of an annual meeting and banquet--menu, decorations, music, _and_ speeches. well, here is the situation: the annual dinner of the national street advertising men's association will be held at weinpusslacher's. reception at six; dinner at eight; speeches begin about ten. "what day?" asked the secretary. "my head is in a whirl, and i don't-- let me see-- oh yes. next saturday, april twenty-ninth. i'll send you tickets. do you think the mayor will come?" "i don't know. saturdays he goes to his farm in hartsdale." "yes, i know; but couldn't _you_ induce him to come? by george! there is nothing our association wouldn't do for you in return." "i'll see," promised the secretary, with a far-away look in his eyes as if he were devising ways and means. oh, he earned his salary, even if he was a celt. "thank you. and-- oh yes, by the way, some of our members will arrive at the grand central station saturday afternoon. any objections to our marching with a band of music down the avenue to the colossal? we'll wear our association badges; they are hummers." he felt in his coat-tails. "i wish i had some with me. is it necessary to have a permit to parade?" "yes; but there will be no trouble about that." "oh, thanks. will you fix that for us? i've got to go to wall street after one of the bankers on the list of speakers, and i'll be back in about an hour. could i have the mayor's acceptance and the permit to parade then? you see, it's only a couple of days and i hate to trust the mail. thank you. it's very kind of you, and we appreciate it." the secretary pulled out a letter and a pencil from his pocket as if to make a note on the back of the envelope, and so hendrik rutgers dictated: "_the national street advertising men's association._ altogether about one hundred and fifty members and one band of music. so long, and thank you very much, mr.--er--" "mcdevitt. "mr. mcdevitt. i'll return in about an hour from now, if i may. thank you." and he bowed himself out. hendrik rutgers had spoken as a man speaks who has a train to catch that he mustn't miss. that will command respect where an appeal in the name of the deity will insure a swift kick. republics! in an hour he was back, knowing that the mayor had gone. he sent in for mr. mcdevitt. the secretary appeared. "did he say he'd come?" asked h. rutgers, impetuously. "i am sorry to say the mayor has a previous engagement that makes it absolutely impossible for him to be present at your dinner. i've got a letter of regret." "they'll be awfully disappointed, too. i'll get the blame, of course. _of_ course!" mr. rutgers spoke with a sort of bitter gloom, spiced with vindictiveness. "here it is. i had him sign it. i wrote it. it's one of those letters," went on the secretary, inflated with the pride of authorship, "that can be read at any meeting. it contains a dissertation on the beneficent influence of advertising, strengthened by citations from epictetus, buddha, george francis train, and other great moral teachers of this administration." "thank you very much. i appreciate it. but, say, what's the matter with you coming in his place? i don't mean to be disrespectful, but i have a hunch that when it comes to slinging after-dinner oratory you'd do a great deal better." "oh," said mcdevitt, with a loyal shake of negation and a smile of assent. "no, i couldn't." "i'm sure--" "and then i'm going to philadelphia on saturday morning to stay over sunday. i wish you'd asked me earlier." "so do i," murmured h. rutgers, with conviction and despair judiciously admixed. the secretary had meant to quiz h. rutgers about the association, but h. rutgers's manner and words disarmed suspicion. it was not that h. rutgers always bluffed, but that he always bluffed as he did, that makes his subsequent career one of the most interesting chapters of our political history. "and here's the permit," said the secretary. h. rutgers, without looking at it, put it in his pocket as if it were all a matter of course. it strengthened the secretary's belief that non-suspiciousness was justified. "thanks, very much," said h. rutgers. "i am, i still repeat, very sorry that neither you nor the mayor can come." he paid to the mayor's eloquent secretary the tribute of a military salute and left the room. iii the union of the sandwich-men was an assured success. victory had come to h. rutgers by the intelligent use of brains. the possession of brains is one of the facts that can always be confirmed at the source. next he arranged for the band. he told the band-master what he wished the band to do. the band-master thereupon told him the price. "friend," said h. rutgers, pleasantly, "i do not deal in dreams either as buyer or seller. that's the asking price. now, how much will you take?" not having any money, hendrik added, impressively, "cash!" the band-master, being a native-born, repeated the price--unchanged. but he was no match for h. rutgers, who took a card from his pocket, looked at what the band-master imagined was a list of addresses of other bands, and then said, "let me see; from here to--" he pulled out his watch and muttered to himself, but audible by the band-master, "it will take me half an hour or more." h. rutgers closed his watch with a sharp and angry snap and then determinedly named a sum exactly two-thirds of what the band-master had fixed as the irreducible minimum. it was more than hendrik could possibly pay. the band-master shook his head, so h. rutgers said, irascibly: "for heaven's sake, quit talking. i'm nearly crazy with the arrangements. do you think you're the only band in new york or that i never hired one before? here's the mayor's permit." he showed it to the musical director, who was thereby enabled to see _national street advertising men's association_, and went on: "now be at grand central station, lexington avenue entrance, at . saturday afternoon. the train gets in at . i'll be there before you are. we'll go from the depot to weinpusslacher's for dinner." "of course, we get our dinners," said the band-master in the tone of voice of a man who has surrendered, but denies it to the reporters. "yes. you'll be there sure?" "yes. but, say, we ought to get--" "not a damned cent more," said h. rutgers, pugnaciously, in order to forestall requests for part payment in advance. "i wasn't going to ask you for more money, but for a few--" "then why waste my time? don't fail me!" then hendrik rutgers put the finishing touches on the work of organization. he rented offices in the allied arts building, sent a sign-painter to decorate the ground-glass doors, and ordered some official stationery in a rush. he promised the agent to return with the president and sign the lease. where everybody distrusts everybody else there is nothing like promising to sign documents! he bought some office furniture on exactly the same plan. on friday night the unionized sandwich-men took their signs and boards to the trysting-place, twenty-ninth street and ninth avenue, to have new advertisements of hendrik's composition painted thereon. the boards did not belong to the members, but in a good cause all property is the cause's. each of the original fourteen brought recruits. the street was almost blocked. the two sign-painters worked like nine beavers, and hendrik and the young man in steel-rimmed spectacles helped. when the clamor became threatening hendrik counted his men twice, aloud. there were eighty-four of them. they knew it was eighty-four, having heard him say it, as he intended they should. he then took them to the corner boozery. he had only two dollars. there were eighty-four thirsty. therefore, "eighty beers!" he yelled, majestically. "_eighty-four!_" shouted eighty-four voices. "that's twenty cents more," said hendrik to himself in the plain hearing of the hitherto distrustful bartender. he had a small green roll in his left hand consisting of two dollars and two clippings. with his right he loudly planked down two large dimes on the counter and shoved them toward the bartender, who took them while hendrik began to count his greenbacks. the bartender saw the exact change and began to draw beer. he even yelled for assistance. hendrik knew better than to enforce discipline now, but he could not officially countenance disorder. "give the other fellows a chance," he said, paternally, to those near by. then he saw the rear entrance. it inspired him. he waited until there were about sixty glasses on the bar. then he yelled in the direction of the front door: "come in, boys! everybody gets one!" the tidal-wave carried him and twenty others to the end of the room. but while the twenty others fought to get back to the schooners, he intelligently went out by the back door. the police reserves were called. they responded. then six ambulances. those who survived sought hendrik to complain, but he beat them to it by scolding them angrily. he all but licked them on the spot, so that they forgot their grievance in their haste to defend themselves. he then divided them into squads of five and took them to another saloon--one squad and a quarter of a dollar at a time. he only used one dollar and fifty cents cash that way. he then promised all of them forty beers a day beginning on monday. he told them to get recruits, who would not be admitted to the union, but could have the privilege of parading. they must be thirsty men and look it. they would receive two beers apiece. on saturday morning there was not a sandwich-man to be seen at work in greater new york. at noon the city editors of all the metropolitan dailies received neatly typewritten notices that the sandwich-men had formed a union and would "peacefully strive for higher wages, shorter hours, and reduced peregrinations. the sandwich-men had no desire to precipitate another internecine strife between labor and capital." they were "willing to submit their differences to a board of arbitration consisting of john d. rockefeller, charles f. murphy, theodore roosevelt, woodrow wilson, and hendrik rutgers." these notices were one and all thrown into waste-paper baskets as cheap humor--to be dug up later and used. iv on saturday afternoon at . the harlem contingent, carrying their armor under one arm, their tickets given into the conductor's own hand by the lieutenant, fleming, entrained at the one hundred and twenty-fifth street station of the new york central and hudson river railroad. ten minutes later they arrived at the grand central station. and as the first pair of sandwiches descended, the waiting band burst into a joyous welcome. the exits were crowded. martial music and parading men always draw crowds. so long as there is no charge, gaping audiences automatically supply themselves in new york. and so, along forty-second street, following the musicians, himself followed by his starving sandwiches, hendrik rutgers walked into fifth avenue and into history at one and the same time. the procession turned southward. the band played chopin's "funeral march." hendrik rutgers at the head of his pauperized cohorts, anger in his heart, light in his soul, defiance in his eyes, marched down fifth avenue with an effect as of a man in armor treading on prostrate millionaires as over so many railroad-ties. men who had money in their pockets for a minute felt the wind squeezed out of them by his foot. and as they saw the led sandwiches they looked thoughtful. the first of rutgers's infantry was an old man. his long, gray beard was dirty and ragged, like his clothes and the rest of him. in his eyes you saw the unutterable weariness of a man who has lived fifty suffering years too long. underneath his eyes were dark rings; from the sidewalk his sockets looked finger-deep. on his cheeks was the pallor of death. h. rutgers, fighting for fairness and justice, had justly picked out the old fellow to be his exhibit "a." society must see what it did to human beings! therefore the old man slid one foot along the asphalt and let the other follow it, with a spent, mechanical movement, as an engine, after the power is turned off, keeps on going from the momentum of years. the legs seemed to move from force of habit--a corpse on foot, with a concealed galvanic battery somewhere. and on the breastplate and backplate of this armored corpse, printed in funereal black, beautiful women and intellectual men on fifth avenue, where the unforgivable crime is to be poor and show it, read: yesterday i walked miles. they paid me cents cash and meal tickets. he had been well coached as to his gait and, thrilled by the success he was making, the old chap became an artist and limped worse. behind him was our friend mulligan, pale, thin to emaciation. he looked famished. it came from the possession of a tapeworm, as before stated. to him hendrik rutgers had given this standard to bear: they call us sandwich-men because: we don't know what a square meal is! he was followed by the raggedest human being that anthony comstock ever allowed to exhibit himself in public. on his boards the fifth avenue crowd on this fair spring day saw this: do you thank god you are alive? so do we! and notice the difference! the shabby-genteel man, ex-republican, with steel-rimmed spectacles, who now looked for all the world like a bookkeeper out of a job, had this: i am the result. the cause was not drink. it was hunger. a young fellow who looked so much as if he had just left a hospital that thousands of spectators imagined they smelled iodoform carried this: all men must die. knowing this, we hope! an octogenarian, not over four and one-half feet tall, very frail-looking, was next. to him h. rutgers had assigned this banner: if society won't feed us we'll feed the society of worms-- potter's field under a big foot--property of a popular chiropodist on lower broadway; terms twenty-five cents per, five for a dollar--was this: we are the world's unfortunates: born to be kicked! then followed a haggard-faced man who looked like an exaggerated picture of poverty. he carried: there are poorer than we. help them! a man with the stride of a conqueror bore a banner: and still we believe in god! the crowd looked puzzled. what the dickens did believing in god have to do with anything? to end the bother of thinking they looked at the next one. look at fifth avenue! why? see what we are! why? they obeyed. they saw fifth avenue. why? they did not know why. and then they saw what the sandwich-men were. and they wondered why the sandwich-men asked why. why not? pshaw! the placard that followed was: if you wish to see one hundred starving men follow us. you will remember it! say, that was something that nobody had seen and therefore everybody could joke about. every woman had the same remark and the same grin: "haven't i seen my husband?" before the parade had gone half a square fifth avenue was blocked. apart from the interference of the band and the sandwiches with vehicular traffic, there was the paralysis of the pedestrians. the peacock parade halted. slim figures, half-naked, flat-bosomed, stalked swayingly to the curb and stared with eyes in which was the insolent sex challenge that new york males answer with furs and jewels. and as they looked the challenge of sex died in the eyes of the women: the marchers had no sex; anybody could see they had no money! and the men, too, ceased to look stallion-eyed at the women and gazed on the parade of sandwich-men, who, in the middle of the street, with the machines and the horses, slouched on--almost rubbing valuable varnish on automobiles and carriages, careless beasts! presently the hurrying crowds slowed their gait and kept step to chopin's dirge--_slowly! slowly!_--until all fifth avenue was a vast funeral procession; only the marchers could not have told you what it was that long since had died of gold on fifth avenue! slowly! slowly! and with the funereal gait other changes came--in the grimace of the over-red lips and the look of the over-bold eyes. but never the slightest change in the color of the cheeks, which was there to stay, in rain, shine, or snow. "what is it? what is it?" whispered ten thousand people. from the middle of the street it sounded like the whimper of ten thousand little foamy waves dying on a flat beach. it made the filthy bipeds who marched look at the thronged sidewalks. they saw the usual fifth avenue crowd. they saw the full-fed, clock-hating faces of professional idlers; the drawn features of the busy money-maker with his perennial anxieties; the suddenly immobilized grimaces of millionaires intended to conceal the fear of god knew what; the contemptuous countenances of waiters from fashionable restaurants, who, like ordained priests, knew america at its worst, but, unlike priests, could not pity; healthy american boys with clean faces and the eyes of animals. and the sexless marchers saw also healthy american girls with delicate features and dreadful, price-quoting eyes, and faces not clean and healthy, but dead-white and dead-crimson; they saw not women's faces, but marble tombstones on which the epitaphs were scarlet letters that told what the price was, so that the professional prostitutes no longer wasted time advertising with the same ink, but used downcast eyes as bait. there was a gap of about thirty feet between the first detachment of rutgers's marching advertisements and the next. the spectators, seeking explanations, saw a cadaverous-looking man, hollow-cheeked, sunken-eyed, white-lipped, who stepped as though the avenue were full of puddles of nitroglycerine--uncertainly, fearfully! and this death-on-foot carried a white-cloth board black-bordered like a funeral-card. and thereon money-makers and money-spenders, clubmen and waiters, shop-girls and millionairesses--all fifth avenue!--saw this: hail, new york! we who are about to die salute you! there followed another gap of thirty feet, so that the valedictorian of the doomed might be seen of all. then came eighty-odd sandwich-bearers, appositely legended. from time to time the valedictorian would stagger as you have seen horses do on their last trip to the glue-factory. whereupon a couple of the non-descripts behind him would shuffle up and endeavor to uphold him. and the others slouched on, deep-eyed, gaunt, famine-stricken, rum-ravaged, disease-smitten--ex-bookkeepers, and superannuated mechanics, and disgraced yeggmen, and former merchants--and former men, too! at thirty-ninth street a young woman dressed richly but in perfect taste stood on the very corner. her hair had glints of sunshine and her eyes were like twin heavens, clean, and clear, and blue, and infinitely deep. and the madonna face saw the death face, looked at the thing that had been a man, and read his salutation. and in one of the pauses of the "funeral march" a thousand people heard her laugh, and heard her exclaim with a contagious relish, spiced with undisguised admiration: "_if that ain't the limit!_" new york had spoken! and the chauffeurs near her laughed in sympathy. and gray heads stuck out of limousine windows, and millionaires and their female stood up in their snail-moving touring-cars, and top-hatted coachmen turned impassive heads on neck-hinges long since rusted with the arrogance of menials. and upon their faces and along the ranks that lined both sides of the great avenue a slow grin spread--uncertain, hesitating, dubious! the great american sense of humor was trying to assert itself. hendrik's joke was not labeled "joke" plainly enough. otherwise the spectators would have shown much earlier their ability to laugh at death, hunger, disease, misery, drunkenness, honesty, despair--anything, so long as it was the death, hunger, disease, misery, drunkenness, honesty, and despair of others. but at tiffany's corner the traffic policeman stopped the leader of the band; and he stopped the band; and the band stopped rutgers; and rutgers stopped his army; and that stopped all traffic on the avenue up to forty-second street. hendrik rutgers hurried forward and explained, calmly: "here, officer. i am the secretary of the national street advertising men's association. we have a permit from the mayor. here it is." "oh, advertising! i see!" said the policeman, and smiled appreciatively. he had feared they might be starving men. "yes," said h. rutgers, quite loudly, "advertising the fact that a man out of a job in new york, who is too proud to beg and too honest to steal, has to become a sandwich-man and make from twenty-five to forty-five cents for ten hours work--not in china or mexico, but in new york, to-day; men who are willing to work, but are old or sickly or have no regular trade. you know how the mayor feels about the rights of citizens who are not rich and the duty of paid officials of this city. he and i are opposed to too much law in the way of clubs. so kindly pass the word down the line, officer." the big traffic policeman, far more impressed by the delivery than by the speech itself, touched his hand to his cap so very respectfully that the grinning crowd at once became serious. each woman turned on her neighbor and frowned furiously the unuttered scolding for the other's unseemly levity. "what does it mean?" asked hundreds. all looked toward hendrik rutgers for explanation, for official permission to laugh at a spectacle that was not without humorous suggestions. but he kept them guessing. this is called knowledge of stage effects; also psychological insight; also cheap politics. historians even refer to it as statesmanship. something that makes one hundred thousand new-yorkers gasp and stare is not necessarily news; an ingenius street-sign or a five-dollar-a-day steeple jack could do it. but that not one of one hundred thousand omniscient new-yorkers knew whether to laugh, to curse, or to weep at what they saw made that sight very decidedly "news." an interrogation marker in one hundred thousand otherwise empty heads loomed gigantic before the hair-trigger minds of the city editors. they sent their star men to get answers to the multitudinous question; and, if possible, also the facts. just south of thirty-fourth street the _herald_, _times_, _sun_, and _evening journal_ reporters overtook h. rutgers. he made the procession halt. that again made all fifth avenue halt. he waited until all the reporters were near him, and then he spoke very slowly, for he guessed that shorthand and literature do not necessarily coexist. "the sandwich-men have formed a union. it includes sandwich-men from the five boroughs. we are going to have an annual dinner at six o clock--we are not fashionable folk, you know. there will be speeches. did you ask why we should have a union? i'll tell you why: because we didn't have one; because employers have not thought of us as human beings, but as human derelicts. a starving man who doesn't want to steal and is ashamed to beg will sandwich for thirty cents a day ten hours; and he can't always collect his wages. and who is going to fight for him? when you think of the importance of all advertising, do you consider the peculiar picturesqueness of advertising through sandwiches? in the middle ages they had their heralds and their pursuivants--the sandwich-men of feudalism; and later the town criers; and later still, _us_. do you know in what esteem sandwich-men are held in the south of france and in the orient? did you know that sandwich-men take the place of bells on good friday in moldavia? do you know why there are no commercial sandwich-men in russia or in spain? did you ever read what confucius wrote about 'those men who with letters on their garments dispel the ignorance of buyers,' and a lot more? did you? did any clergyman ever tell you that sandwich-men are, beyond the shadow of a doubt, alluded to twice in the old and five times in the new testament? don't you think that as intelligent investigators of industrial conditions and of the submerged tenth it would be worth your time to come to our annual dinner and hear our version of it? and also see how starving men eat the first square meal of the year?" of course it was pure inspiration and, as such, impressive. "yes, sir," respectfully replied the _evening journal_ man--a tall, dark chap with gold-rimmed spectacles and a friendly smile. "what's the name of the restaurant?" "caspar weinpusslacher's colossal restaurant," said h. rutgers. "spell it!" chorused the reporters; and h. rutgers did, slowly and patiently. at once the _evening journalist_ rushed on to telephone the caption of a story to his paper. that would enable the office to get out an extra; after which would come another edition with the story itself. he was the best head-line reporter in all new york. long before the national street advertising men's association reached the colossal restaurant, caspar weinpusslacher converted himself into a teutonic hurricane and changed thirty short tables into three, long ones. on his lips was a smile, and in his heart a hope that glowed like an incandescent twenty-dollar gold piece, for max onthemaker had rushed in breathlessly and gasped: "he _is_ a smart feller, all right. what?" and he gave an _evening journal_ to caspar weinpusslacher, wherein he read this: sandwich parade pathetic protest against industrial slavery paupers who will neither steal nor beg forced by society to starve sandwich wages, two cents an hour men about to die salute new york the sandwich-men's union will hold their annual meeting at weinpusslacher's colossal restaurant. they have been saving up for this, their one square meal this year. they are paid from twenty to forty cents a day and walk from fifteen to thirty miles in the ten hours. did you know that twice in the old and five times in the new testament mention is made of the sandwich-men? do you know why catholic spain and anti-semitic russia alike permit no sandwich-men to ply their time-honored occupation within their confines? there the article abruptly ended. "weinie," said max, exultingly, "this makes you. be very nice to mr. rutgers. you'll have to pay him thousands of dollars--" "then, you vas in league mit him?" "no. but he's a genius!" "i thought he was german," said c. weinpusslacher, controversially. "get busy, weinie. the crowd will be here in a minute. and don't ask mr. rutgers to pay for his dinner." "why not?" growled weinie. he was on his way to a sure million. that made the growl natural. "what is thirty dollars for their dinner to thirty thousand dollars worth of free advertising?" "thirty dollars," observed c. weinpusslacher, thriftily, "is _thirty dollars_!" "bah!" "i tell you, it is, mister." c. weinpusslacher frowned pugnaciously. but onthemaker knew his man. so he said: "i'll get meyer rabinowitz to give us an option on the property to-night before he reads the newspapers. as rutgers said, once your place is a success, you'll have to pay any price the landlord wants. meyer's got you! i can hear your squeals of agony already!" max shook his head so gloomily that c. weinpusslacher actually began to tremble with joy. the thought of making money did not move him. the thought of losing the money he had not made, did. oh yes; born money-makers! by the time h. rutgers arrived at the colossal restaurant caspar weinpusslacher, esq., and the hon. maximilian onthemaker had constituted themselves into a highly enthusiastic reception committee, for the crowd that came with h. rutgers filled the street so that all you heard was the squealing and cursing of persons that were pressed against iron newel-posts of the old-fashioned stoops or precipitated into basements and cellars. sixty policemen, impartially cursing the mayor, epictetus, and h. rutgers, and yearning for the days of aleck williams, when clubs were made to be used and not to be fined for, endeavored to keep the crowd moving. "you'll find everything ready, mr. rutgers," said m. onthemaker. "here is one of my cards. the name, you will see," he almost shouted, "is spelled with a _k_ not _h_--o-n-t-h-e-m-a-k-e-r. everything is ready, mr. secretary." he looked at the reporters out of a corner of his eye. "and it won't cost you nothing, not one cent," interjected c. weinpusslacher, eagerly and distinctly. "any feller wot's smart like you, mr. rutchers--" "and the poor starving men," quickly interjected m. onthemaker, not wishing for character-analyses yet, "who are the victims of a ruthless industrial system--" "yah, sandwiches!" put in c. weinpusslacher. m. onthemaker grimaced horribly, and c. weinpusslacher was silent for a minute. presently he told rutgers, "they get enough to eat here, anyways, i bet you." he glared with a sort of malevolent triumph at m. onthemaker, until he heard the boss say in stern accents: "that, of course, weinpusslacher, includes a couple of beers apiece." "of course! of course!" put in m. onthemaker, hastily. "the representatives of the press will sit at their own table, at which i am to have the honor of presiding, max onthemaker--o-n-t-h-e-m--" "we got it down," the _evening journal_ man assured him, amiably. c. weinpusslacher was so angry that anybody should help him to make money, when half the pleasure is in making it yourself out of your fellow-men, that he said, spitefully, "there will be free beer!" hendrik rutgers took an innkeeper's notion and made of it the most remarkable platform in the history of party government. he said, sternly, "everything free for free men!" a grunting murmur ran down the line of derelicts--the inarticulate tribute of great thirst to great leadership. in a hundred pairs of eyes a human hope kindled its fire for the first time in two hundred years! great indeed was hendrik rutgers! his faithful sandwiches would go through fire for him! a man who can get free beer for sahara throats could put out the fire--with more beer. the boards were hung around the great hall in plain sight of the reporters, who copied the legends, that all america might read. while they were writing, caspar was hiring thirty extra waiters and turning people away. hendrik went from man to man, sternly warning that no one must begin to eat until he gave the order. a violation of his order would entail the loss of the dinner and most of the scalp. he also said they must not linger over their victuals, and told them that two extra beers apiece would be awarded to the ten men who finished first. he had made up his mind that the cold and callous world should be told how starving men eat. what do people who get enough to eat know about starving men? nothing! they impede the world's progress by being content. human pigs! in a surprisingly short time one hundred complete dinners were in front of one hundred starving men. six bartenders were busy filling schooners--in plain sight of the starving men. but the boss's awful frown held them in check. each man began to tremble in advance--fearing he might not be one of the ten to win the extra schooners. the reporters looked at the hundred faces and began to write like mad. hendrik rose. there was an awed silence. the reporters stopped writing. one hundred inferior maxillaries began to castanet away like mad. the boss held up a hand. then he said in measured tones: "may god be good to us sandwich-men again this year! _eat!_" when he said eat, men ate. don't forget the moral effect of commanding and being obeyed! they flung themselves on the food like wild beasts, and made animal noises in their throats. they disdained forks, knives, and spoons. they used claws and jaws on meat, coffee, bread, potatoes, soup, or pie whichever was nearest. no man wanted to be the last to finish. "my god!" exclaimed the _evening post_ man. "this is absolutely horrible!" "pippin!" said the creative artist from the sun. all of them would treat it as a belasco production. that is, they would impart to it all the dignity and importance of a political convention. at p.m. hendrik rutgers, man of destiny, rose to speak. he never even glanced at the reporters. he said, very earnestly, to his tattered cohorts: "comrades! ours is beyond question the only labor union in the united states, and, for all i know, in the entire world, that is not monopolistic in its tendencies. we are individualists because advertising is not a science nor a trade, but an art, and we are artists. when the advertisers' greed saw the artists' hunger, the result was _that_!" he pointed to five score dehumanized faces before him. "great!" murmured the _sun_ man. "hereafter watch the sandwich-man, and in one corner of the sign look for the union label--a skeleton carrying a coffin, to remind us that no matter what a man is when he is born, he goes to his maker between boards. in death all men are equal, and in his coffin a man is the ultimate sandwich!" "that's literature!" muttered the serious young man from the _journal_. "we refuse to be thieves. therefore we decline to do any sandwiching for patent medicines, banks, quack cures, fraudulent stores, immoral books, coal-dealers, fake doctors, suburban real estate, bum chiropodists, or disreputable people of any kind, class, or nature whatsoever. we start with professional ethics, which is where most professions end. we who have been the lowest of the low class that work for their daily bread are now the s. a. s. a.--the society of american sandwich artists. all we ask is permission to live! our headquarters will be in the allied arts building on fifth avenue." his speech had quotable phrases. a country that once cast the biggest vote in its history for the square deal, that makes minions of dollars out of asking you if you see that hump, and from promising to do the rest if you push the button, and boasts of the thorn that made a rose famous, is bound to be governed by phrases. the only exceptions are the ten commandments. they are quotable, but not memorable. all the newspapers spread themselves on that story. in their clubs the managing editors heard their fellow-members talk about the parade, and this made each m. e. telephone to the city editor to play it up. it was too picturesque not to be good reading, and since good reading is always easy writing, both reporters and editorial writers enjoyed themselves. that made them artists instead of wage-earners. hendrik rutgers possessed the same quality of political instinct that nearly made the luckiest man in the world president of the united states. by blindly following it, young mr. rutgers jumped into the very heart of a profound truth. and once he landed, the same sublimated sagacity impelled him to stamp with both feet hard. then, unemotionally perceiving exactly what he had done, he proceeded very carefully to pick out his own philosophical steps, in order to be able later on to prove that he had been coldly logical. impulsive humanity always distrusts impulsiveness in others. leaders, therefore, always call them carefully considered plans. in all irreligious countries, as hendrik rutgers, astutely arguing backward, told himself, the people who buy, sell, and vote are alive only to to-day and therefore dare not take heed of the hereafter. this has exalted _news_ to the dignity of a sacred commandment. in such communities success is necessarily a matter of skilful publicity. who is the greatest of all press agents, working while you sleep and even when you blunder? the people! the front page of the newspaper is therefore the arena of to-day! to live in that page, all you have to do is to become news. once you become news all the king-making reporters of all the nation-making newspapers become your press agents. the public does the rest and pays all salaries. thrilled by his discovery, hendrik called max onthemaker to one side and, with the air of a man risking one hundred and two millions of cash, said to him: "i have decided to make you chief counsel of my society. your services will entitle you to represent me." never had man been so lavishly overpaid for breathing since the dawn of historical time. hendrik went on, still imperial in bounty: "i have in mind some great things. every one of them will be worth as much space as the newspapers will give to this dinner. do you see your chance?" "i can't live on newspaper articles," began max, elated but dissembling. "you can die without them. chronic obscurity; acute starvation," said hendrik rutgers in his clinical voice. "i not only do not propose to pay you a cent, but i expect you to pay all necessary expenses out of your privy purse without a murmur--unless said murmur is intended to express your legal opinion and your gratitude. i shall give you an opportunity to represent my society"--you would have sworn he was saying _my regiment_--"in actions involving the most famous names in america." "for instance?" asked m. onthemaker, trying to speak skeptically, that his eagerness might not show too plainly. hendrik rutgers named six of the mightiest. "you're on, mr. rutgers," said max, enthusiastically. "now, i think--" "wait!" interrupted hendrik, coldly. "never forget that i am not your press agent. you are mine." "there will be glory enough to go around," said max onthemaker in his police-court voice. "when do we begin?" "to-morrow." "yes, sir. and now--" "my _now_ is your _when_! your job is to find the legal way of helping the cause." "i will!" promised onthemaker, heartfully. the cause would be his cause. he'd fix it so they couldn't leave out his name. but hendrik saw the gleam in the lawyer's eye. that's the worst of all thoughts of self. they invariably are undisguisable. "the cause, onthemaker," said hendrik, sternly, "is the cause of the society of american sandwich artists. we are not associated to make money for ourselves, but for our employers. this is revolutionary. moreover, we are not working-men, but artists. therefore our men not only love their work, but are law-abiding. this will make the employers helpless to retaliate. we shall never do anything without invoking the aid of the law, for i believe that the law will help the poor not less than the rich if properly--" "advertised," prompted max. "i get you. in the forum of the people's liberties--the daily papers--is the place to try--" hendrik held up a hand. he had chosen the right lawyer. the interpretation of the law depends exclusively upon the tone of voice. all reporters are trained to be judges of elocution. they have to be, in republics. "to-morrow--" here hendrik paused. max's face paled slightly as he waited. what was coming? hendrik finished: "_i shall telephone to you!_" max drew in his breath sharply. hendrik then nodded. it meant, "you have my permission to retire!" "thank you, mr. rutgers," said max, respectfully, and withdrew from the presence on tiptoe. hendrik then beckoned to his sandwich lieutenant. "fleming!" he said, sternly. fleming threw up an arm defensively from force of habit--the slave's immemorial salute. then he grinned sheepishly. then he said, eagerly, "yes, boss!" "i'm going to make you chief of the meal ticket department, and i expect you to maintain discipline. but if i ever hear of any graft, such as accepting bonuses--" he closed his jaws and his fists. when you close both at the same time you inevitably win the debate. it is, however, difficult. "honest, b-boss," stammered fleming, his eyes on hendrik's right fist. "honest, i--" the boss's right unclenched itself. fleming drew in a deep breath. "get the names and addresses of all the men here--in their own writing. ask onthemaker for a blank-book, and when the men have signed give the book back to him. they've got to sign!" fleming's face was pale but resigned. signatures are lethal weapons in all industrial democracies. ask the note-teller in any bank. but the boss had said, "_sign!_" kismet! "and you keep a book of your own so that when i want ten or twenty men of a certain type and appearance you will know where to find them. i hold you responsible!" poor fleming almost collapsed. responsibility in a republic really means accountability. our entire system of law, as a great psychologist has pointed out, is based upon the same confusion of definitions. hendrik saw the fear of statutory punishment seep into his lieutenant's soul. he stopped it at exactly the right point. "fleming," he said, kindly, "i trust you!" fleming felt himself decorated with the grand cross of the order of unearned food. it made him into an active citizen. "i'll get the men when you shout, boss!" he promised, proudly, realizing the meaning of the duty of a voter. however, it would never do to have your creatures think they also have the power to create. therefore hendrik said, "if you don't--" "i'll get 'em for you, b-boss. honest, i will!" meekly promised fleming, taking his place in the ranks. he was an ideal cabinet officer. hendrik rutgers did not _know_ men. he _guessed_ them. he thus saved himself the fatigue of thinking. weinpusslacher swaggered by, counting his millions. he had begun to feel haughty. hendrik stopped him by lifting his right forefinger and then smartly moving it hendrikward. "weinie, i guess you're famous. you give the free meal tickets to onthemaker. and don't try to cheat!" "i never do such--" began caspar, angrily. "you never will to me," interrupted hendrik, making weinie's unuttered words his own. it took away from weinie all sense of proprietorship in his own property. this also is called genius. such men should be tax-collectors instead of railroad bankers. hendrik glanced toward the reporters and saw that mr. onthemaker was talking to them and looking at him--looking at him both ingratiatingly and proudly. he therefore knew that max was being quoted by the newspaper men, and the only subject on which they would quote him was hendrik rutgers. he also knew that the desire for reflected glory, in all newspaper-reading countries, is so strong that max would be a great political historian. the best way to blow your own horn is to lend it to an obscure friend. hendrik rutgers left the colossal restaurant certain that he was news, and that his job consisted of continuing to be news. to become news and then to continue to be news a man must be plausible, persistent, and picturesque. there was no altitude of success to which he might not climb, provided he lost six-sevenths of his name and mutilated his surname in like degree. he must become two letters: _h. r._ he thus would become an immortal during his own lifetime, which was immortality enough for any man who merely wished to acquire fame, wealth, and one wife in his own country. so brightly lighted was his road that he knew exactly where to plant each foot--in the front page! he must do it all. therefore he must make others do the work. but this man who now was a million miles beyond all bank clerks knew exactly _what_ he needed, which made it easy for him to know exactly _whom_ he needed. this knowledge would establish the basis on which the workers must work. he sought a newspaper-advertising agency; ordered the manager to insert in all the morning papers the same advertisement, in large type, with triple spacing, to show that money was no object. this always impresses people who wish to make money. the advertisement read: wanted--first-class advertising canvassers. i am anxious to pay per cent. more than is customary to such men. this does not mean you, my hungry and hopeful friend! apply between and a.m. to h. r. allied arts bldg. _p. s. the better the men the fewer i need. the fewer i use the greater the profit to the lucky ones. keep away unless you are a wonder._ it was the first time that an advertisement for "help wanted" had contained a postscriptum. h. r. did it because he knew that the unusualness of it would make professional people talk. every experienced advertising man must realize that h. r. had not written an advertisement, but had dictated a brief letter to him. the signer was too busy and too much in earnest to compose a regular advertisement. genius neglects no opportunity, however slight. consider the small but efficient yellow-fever microbe. v monday morning, at . a.m., h. r. was in his office. at . he had engaged a stenographer by telephone and told the starter and the elevator-men who h. r. was. later on the dozen men who answered the advertisement made it impossible for either starter or elevator-men ever to forget who h. r. was without the use of gratuities, profanity, or promises. h. r.'s first task was to compose memoranda for the use and guidance of max onthemaker and lieutenant fleming. at . the first-class advertising canvassers began to appear in numbers. really efficient men are never modest. neither are really inefficient men. efficiency is always a matter of personal judgment. even efficiency experts will tell you that nobody is really efficient until efficiency experts have said so. h. r. allowed the applicants to accumulate in the anteroom. the new stenographer had been told to write, "now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their party" two thousand times and to time herself. the spectators thereby realized that this was a busy office. he was confronting his first crisis--the selection of a man who must not only be highly competent, but must be made to realize that h. r. was a pioneer, a man to whom tradition, precedents, and custom were less than nothing. h. r. studied the situation and then went out to the anteroom and looked at the waiting dozen slowly. there are a few men in the world who can look a crowd from head to foot and manage to make each man in it feel guilty. after h. r. had so looked at them, he asked, skeptically, "are _all_ of you first-class men?" to their honor be it said, not one of them answered no. men collectively may be cruel or blind, but seldom petty or egotistical. observe mobs. h. r. turned his back on the crowd and returned to his private office. he did it on purpose. men usually follow those who act as if they do not care whether they have a following or not. it is wiser to be wrong and not hesitate than to vacillate and be right. besides, much quicker. at the threshold he half turned and, without looking at any one in particular, said: "i need only four first-class men. the others might as well go away." twelve men heard him. twelve men followed him. he sat down at his new desk, put the unpaid bill for same in a drawer, and confronted them. "eight of you can go," he observed, and waited. each man cast a glance of pity at his neighbor. "don't be so modest," h. r. told them, kindly. "you said first-class men?" politely inquired a young man, smooth-shaven, blond, blue-eyed, and very clean-looking. "yes," answered h. r. "that's what i understood," said the young man, extending his hand. "barrett's my name." h. r. ignored the outstretched hand and stared at the clean-looking young man. on the faces of eleven christian gentlemen came a fraternal look of self-conscious modesty. but young mr. barrett, unabashed, said, cheerily: "keep on looking. _i_ know you want me. when _you_ discover it, we'll do business." "go to the foot of the class," said h. r., impassively. you could tell nothing from his voice. it is a valuable gift. the young man eyed h. r. shrewdly, then walked to a corner of the room, sat down, pulled a memorandum-book from his pocket, and began to count his contracts in advance. "your _last_ name, please," said h. r., looking as if what he had asked for was the _right_ name. the assumption of guilt has the effect of putting even the innocent on the defensive. the strategic inferiority of the defensive is always acknowledged by the defeated--even before the defeat. he jotted down the replies, one after another. within one and three-quarter minutes these men felt themselves deprived of their individual entities. they had been turned into a list of surnames, a fragment of the rabble. the leader stood alone--he alone had a _first_ name! smith merely votes; john smith has his own opinion. h. r. had acted instinctively. he never would have had the conscious wisdom of an editorial writer. there are many editorial writers in all republics. hence, practical politics. "where did you see my advertisement?" asked h. r. "one at a time, please. also, state why you looked in that particular newspaper?" they told him, one at a time, in the hearing of the others, thereby intensifying their own feeling of having been lumped into an electorate. he made notes as they answered. some had seen it in the _herald_. others blamed the _world_ or the _times_ or the _sun_, or the _tribune_. three gave two papers; one had seen three. they expressed their professional opinion of that particular advertising medium, feeling that said opinion was a qualification of fitness. young mr. barrett from his chair answered: "in all the papers. i also looked in the german, yiddish, and italian papers; in the _courier des etats-unis_, and in the first morning edition of every afternoon paper. i did it to get a line on _you_." h. r. did not look as if he had heard barrett. he said to the others: "i thank you all for coming. i shall not need wilson, streeter, manley, hill, roberts, smith, jenks, or macduffy." one of the rejected came forward, scowling. he was naturally a robust-looking person. he said, "say, this is--" h. r. did not allow the full expression of individual opinion--a form of salutary discipline which explains why people are governed. he snarled in a tone of voice that made his shoulders look a yard wide: "mr. book agent, i've picked the men i want. what i don't want is to hear any remarks. talk them into a dictagraph and send the cylinders by parcels post to my secretary." he had risen. but when he finished speaking, as though the unarmed proletariat were in full retreat, he sat down again. it was the way he did it. men always do what they are expected to do. the eight non-successfuls went out. it was only when they were outside, where the female was typewriting away, that they began to talk loudly. h. r. had judged rightly. they were not first-class men. he turned to the others and asked: "can you _sell_ advertising?" young mr. barrett came forward. the four answered, "yes!" "then you can sell anything!" he stood up suddenly, when they were not expecting such a thing. this is always subtly disconcerting. business men and beautiful women invariably resent it. he asked, sharply, "what is the one thing none of you can sell to me?" he looked challengingly at the first. the man stared back at h. r. and, with the canvasser's professional look of congratulation, replied, "a gold brick!" "good answer! not _the_ answer. and you?" he asked the second man. "newspaper space--not to you." "still better answer. but not the answer." he looked at the third man, who promptly said: "opinions!" "excellent. but not the answer. and you, young man?" the accusation of youth is never successfully repulsed. young mr. barrett, ingeniously admitting his youth to remove the sting from his humor, replied triumphantly, "smallpox!" "the tendency of american youth is toward the clown. it keeps us in an attitude of perennial apology toward the perennial juvenility of our nation. what none of you can sell me is--" he paused. they were looking at him with the intentness with which all men look at an armed lunatic--or at their master. after the second minute of suspense they exclaimed in chorus: "what?" they couldn't help it! "cold feet!" said h. r. calmly. they looked relieved. then they looked anxious. the reason the ruled masses never win is because they inflict upon themselves their own doubts. "how many times your own salary do you wish to earn for me?" asked h. r. in the tone of voice in which a philanthropist asks strangers for subscriptions to his pet charity. this always makes people feel that extravagance is a sin. "i'd expect to earn for you--" began one of the victims. "not what you would _expect_, but what you would _like_," corrected h. r. he spoke so kindly that they at once knew it was a trap. a look of brotherhood always is, to all clever men of an editorial type of mind. "four or five times," answered no. . "and you?" "i don't want to work for you at all," answered no. , feeling that his answer was sure not to be right. "good morning," said h. r. in such a voice and with such a look that no. instantly ceased to exist. when he walked out he didn't hear his own footsteps. "and you?" "it depends," answered no. in the earnest voice of a man trying to be fair at all costs, "upon what the work will be." "i sha'n't need you. please don't ask me questions. good day, sir." "i have a right--" "none whatever. it would be cruelty if i told you." mr. barrett laughed. no. said, angrily, "you can't come that on me and get away with it, you damned--" "go while the going is good, friend." h. r. spoke with the cold kindness of a man warning an objectionable inebriate. then, when the loss of patience of a prize-fighter who, however, has not quite lost sight of the electric chair: "get out! d'ye _hear_?" the man left. h. r. stared out of the window. they could see it was to cool off. it gave the remaining pair a great respect for him and also a resolve not to stimulate the heat verbally. at length h. r. turned to no. and said, "wolverton is your name?" "yes," answered wolverton. then he added, "sir." "do you always get what you want?" "i get my share." "barrett, do you get what you want?" "always!" promptly answered barrett. "but i've got to be sure i want it." "the more money you two wish to make the better you please me. it will give you something to brag of. in working for me you will receive your share of prosperity and the pleasure of becoming somebody." he looked as if the three of them stood in the plain sight of two and one-half millions of spectators. he went on, even more impressively, "you will now go on fifth avenue and graciously permit the swellest shops to employ our union sandwich-men to advertise their wares." wolverton rose to his feet. his color also rose. "you didn't want me to waste your time, did you?" "no, but you have. good day. now, barrett, listen to me. i never repeat." mr. wolverton opened his mouth, perceived that h. r. was not looking at him, closed his mouth and went out. he was a well-dressed man with a determined chin. if it had not been for that chin he would have been a bookkeeper. determination minus imagination equals stubbornness. mr. wolverton therefore walked out unbleeding. "barrett, do you see the possibilities?" "do i? didn't i see the parade? say, i can only think when i talk. trust _me_! speaking of terms--" he looked at h. r., nodded amiably, and said, "after you, kind friend." "you will ask our clients five dollars per day per man, they to pay for the boards, which must be artistic and approved by me. the union label will be on them. forty per cent. goes to the artist, forty per cent. to you, and ten per cent. to the society. don't try valiquet's. tackle everybody else first. i'll be here all the afternoon. barrett, i expect you to do your damnedest!" he rose, shook hands with young mr. andrew barrett, escorted him to the door, and returned to his desk. he sat there, thinking. he intended barrett should fail in order that when h. r. made him succeed, later, barrett should know to whom the credit should go, though the commissions would fall into barrett's pocket. that would make the young man really useful. the telephone people had not yet installed the apparatus in his office, so he went downstairs and called up mr. maximilian onthemaker. "onthemaker?... this is h. r. speaking.... of course i saw the papers.... yes, all of them. come up to my office. at once!... i can't help it; i need you--this means the front page again. if you don't want the job.... i thought you would! remember, i'm waiting. do you hear me? _waiting!_" the greatest stroke of political genius on the part of louis xiv. was his rebuke: "i almost have been made to wait!" what, wait?--h. r.? if it had not been that taxicabs cost actual money, m. onthemaker would have taken one. but he knew he soon would have one of his own--if the newspapers did their share. before max could decide whether he ought to say good morning to h. r. in a sulky tone of voice at being called from an important conference, or smile pleasantly, h. r. said: "onthemaker, i am going to advertise a shop without permission and without pay." "another restaurant, like--" "like nothing. don't interrupt again, not even to approve. i am going to have valiquet's, the jewelers, brought to the notice of fifth avenue through the medium of our sandwich-men. i anticipate objections. the statute clearly says we must not use a person's name for purposes of trade without his consent. but i'm not going to use the name of a person, but of a corporation, _for its own trade and profit_. there is no law that can prevent me from putting money into a corporation's treasury--" "a commission of lunacy--" "be quiet. they can't stop me legally, if you are our counsel." max bowed, opened his mouth, and promptly closed it when he saw h. r.'s face. "they might try to get out an injunction, but you must beat them to it. they will probably try to get the police to stop us by alleging breach of the peace, disorderly conduct, or some violation of a city ordinance. i want you to prepare in advance restraining orders or applications for injunctions or whatever is needed to prevent interference with us. you are the counsel of the society of american sandwich artists. prepare papers also in the names of individual members. the poor sandwich artist, working for a mere pittance, without money to pay his able but charitable and indignant counsel, will fight the richest jewelry-shop in the world. the pearl showcase alone would feed one hundred and eighty-six thousand, four hundred and fifty-one men one week. do you get that?" "do i?" max onthemaker, able and indignant, was rushing to embrace h. r., on whose face he saw ten thousand front-page head-lines, when h. r. said, coldly: "sit down. this is only the beginning." max sat down. he felt very much more like kneeling in adoration before this god of success. "yes, sir," he murmured, prayerfully, and looked with his very soul. "be ready with the papers for the papers." perceiving a puzzled look on the lawyer's face, h. r. explained: "draw the legal papers up so they will be news. and remember that _i_ am the society. you are merely a lawyer lucky enough to be _its_ lawyer. if you don't know what the reporters like to print, bring the injunctions and typewritten argument to me this afternoon. go away now. i'm going to valiquet's." "not to--" "not to anything you may think." max onthemaker walked away, and even as he walked he began to fear that the newspapers would not let him have more than twenty-eight columns. it behooved him to be brief. what with the immemorial wrongs of the poor, and the inalienable rights of american citizens, and the abuse of wealth, and the arrogance of unconvicted millionaires, and the supine subservience of the police and the politicians to big business, how could he use less than three pages? how? but he must do it. he asked himself what steps he would take to prevent the sandwich-men, or anybody, from advertising him, and he could find no objection. but he had imagination. he indignantly put himself in the place of valiquet's and hired m. onthemaker, esq., to stop the beasts. and then he proceeded to make the able counsel of the s. a. s. a. punch the great jewelers' case full of holes--such holes as would let out the law in the way the reporters would like. this would make said holes the kind that no judge, thinking of re-election and the recall, would dare to plug up. when your client is poor and doesn't use dynamite, sympathy is the best law with juries. and when it came to picking out jurors, max had inherited a vision for dollars which enabled him to tell the contents of a juror's inside pocket to the penny, and therefore the exact hatred of riches of each of the twelve peers. vi h. r. sent word to fleming, _via_ caspar weinpusslacher, that he desired to meet about fifty members of the society at the colossal restaurant that evening at seven sharp. he then went to valiquet's. the firm's name was not visible on the façade; only a beautiful bronze clock. everybody was expected to know that this was valiquet's, and everybody did, particularly those who could not afford to buy jewels. it had engendered throughout the entire country that familiar form of american snobbery which consists not only of having the best that money can buy, but of telling everybody that the watch or the necklace or the solitaire or the stick-pin came from valiquet's. he entered the most beautiful store in the world as though his feet had carried him thither automatically, from force of habit. he looked approvingly, as for the millionth time, at the wide teak boards of the floor and the ornate but beautiful solid-silver ceiling and the cool variegated purple-gray marble columns. he paused by the pearl-counter and stared at the one-hundred-thousand-dollar strings with what you might call an amiable tolerance; it wasn't their fault, poor things! he moved on, reluctantly, six feet farther and examined, with a little more insistence, the emeralds, the fashionable gems of the season. "very fair! very fair, indeed!" he seemed to be saying encouragingly to the dazzling green things. the well-trained clerks looked at him, took a respectfully eager step toward him as if to place themselves unreservedly at his orders, and then abruptly immobilized themselves in their tracks--their tribute to expert knowledge! he did not look up, but, as if he were aware that the world was looking on, ready to obey, he rested his finger-tip on the showcase immediately above an eighteen-carat cabochon emerald surrounded by very white diamonds set in platinum. by instinct he had picked out the best. a clerk opened the case, took out the emerald, and respectfully laid it before the connoisseur. h. r. fumbled in his waistcoat pockets, then in his coat, allowed himself to look annoyed at having forgotten his pocket magnifying-glass, picked up the jewel, looked at it closely for flaws, then at arm's-length for general effect. he laid it on the velvet mat, raised his eyes and met the clerk's. the clerk smiled uncertainly. h. r. unsmilingly raised his eyebrows--very slightly. "sixty-eight thousand five hundred, mr.--eh--" h. r. hesitated. then he shook his head resolutely. having mastered the temptation, he nodded to the clerk, and said, kindly, "thank you." "not at all, sir," gratefully said the clerk. h. r. walked on, a marked man, high in the estimation of the clerks because he had _not_ bought a sixty-eight-thousand-dollar emerald. don't you wonder how they do it? what is it? intuition? genius? a floor-walker who had taken in h. r.'s introduction of himself to valiquet's bowed deferentially to h. r. and blamed his memory for not remembering the name. he was certain he knew the gentleman well. h. r. nodded and asked: "i wish to have a bronze statuette designed and cast for me. which department, please?" "up-stairs, mr.--er-- second floor, sir. mr. gwathmey is in charge, and--" "oh, gwathmey!" h. r. was obviously much relieved. "yes, sir. he's still with us, sir. elevator on the left." "thank you," said h. r., and the man smiled gratefully. you don't have to buy to be treated politely in new york. the mere suspicion of the power of purchase is enough. it is thus that the principle "politeness pays" has been established among stock-brokers and jewelers. h. r. was directed to the head of the department, to whom he said, with a sort of boyish eagerness, "mr. gwathmey, i'm very much interested in the movement, as you probably know, and i wish my little society to have a _very_ artistic emblem." he looked expectantly at mr. gwathmey, who thereupon bowed at the implied compliment, but, not knowing what to say, said nothing. "you read in the papers about the parade my poor fellows had saturday?" "not the--er--sandwich-men's parade?" "yes!" h. r. smiled so gratefully and congratulatory that mr. gwathmey felt himself enrolled among the honorary vice-presidents. "that's it. the society emblem is a skeleton and the sandwich-boards are a coffin--" "yes, i read that," and mr. gwathmey smiled at the delightful humor of the conceit. h. r. instantly frowned at the levity--all very rich men frown at all smiles aimed at their pet hobbies. mr. gwathmey, knowing the ways of millionaires, hastened to explain, gravely, "there is a great deal to that idea!" "nobody helped me!" h. r. spoke eagerly, as all youthful aristocrats speak when they speak of their own ideas. "the ultimate sandwich! what you and i shall be at least once. i am glad you agree with me. now, i wish statuettes made in bronze in three sizes, two, four, and six inches high, so they can be used by my friends as desk ornaments. and can you put on a nice _patine_?" "oh yes! and--er--mr.--ah--" gwathmey looked ashamed of himself. but h. r. smiled pleasantly and said: "it is easy to see you are not a rutgers college man. i'm mr. rutgers. _my_ father--" he stopped--naturally. "i'm sorry to say i'm harvard, mr. rutgers," said mr. gwathmey, contritely. "but don't you think it would be a little gruesome for a desk ornament?" "not at all. the egyptians used to bring in a skeleton at their feasts so that the timid guests should cease to fear dyspepsia. and the _memento mori_ of later centuries had its _raison d'être_. i have a byzantine ivory carving of a skull that is a gem. holbein's 'dance of death' is not inartistic. it is up to you people to keep my skull from being repulsive. i wish to get something that will drive home the fact to us careless americans that the richest is no better than the poorest. for we are _not_!" h. r. said this decisively. when the aristocrat tells you that you and he are not a bit better than the proletariat, what you understand him to say is that you also are an aristocrat. a democratic aristocracy is invincible. "no," agreed mr. gwathmey, proudly, "we are not!" "let me have a sketch as soon as possible. it is to raise funds for our superannuated sandwiches." mr. gwathmey saw no humor in either the intention or the phrase. as an alert business man who studied the psychology of customers, he knew that society leaders had advocated the cause of the shirtwaist workers and of certain educational movies--especially society leaders who had reached the age when their looks and their pearls no longer entitled them to the pictorial supplements. how else could they stay in the newspapers except by indignation over the wrongs of social inferiors? by espousing the cause of the lower classes, the latter also remained lower. mr. gwathmey smiled tolerantly and nodded. then he looked dreamy and murmured: "i see! i see _exactly_ what you want: a skeleton carrying a coffin as sandwich-boards. the ultimate sandwich." he saw it in the air, two feet from the tip of his nose; he was a creative artist. then he became a salesman. "we can submit designs to you, mr. rutgers--" "to-day?" "oh, gracious, no! we couldn't--" "to-morrow, then. you have grasped the idea completely. no, mr. gwathmey; no!" and h. r. held up a hand--the hand of fate. "to-morrow, at the latest! must have it! i hate waiting. that's why i came to valiquet's instead of shoreham's. and now," he went on before mr. gwathmey could protest, "i wish also a series of designs for sandwich-boards--heraldic shields, scutcheons and bucklers, spade-shapes, rectangular boards of the right proportion, circles, and a keystone for use by the pennsylvania railroad. i propose to raise the sandwich to the highest form of art. i shall experiment with various materials--wood, metal, and composition, with raised as well as with sunken letters, in divers colors, vert antique and beautiful soft grays, and iridescent-glass mosaic. can't you imagine a sandwich being made artistic, if i get competent experts to design them?" h. r. looked anxiously at the competent expert. "indeed i can," replied mr. gwathmey, with conviction. "indeed i can, mr. rutgers. it is an excellent idea!" "thank you. do you know, i thought so, too!" mr. gwathmey, being a kindly man, was so pleased at having suggested, evolved, and improved a great idea that he filled with enthusiasm. enthusiasm always made him take out his pencil and reach for a pad. he did so now. "for instance--" he said, and he began to design. "exactly! exactly!" said h. r., with such eager admiration that mr. gwathmey was inspired by love of the young man. "i'd give everything i own, mr. gwathmey, to have your gift!" mr. gwathmey modestly felt his talents overcapitalized. everything this eccentric but clever scion of the knickerbockers owned? mr. gwathmey almost saw the old rutgers farm! it must have had at least one hundred and fifty acres bounded by broadway, wall, fulton, and the east river. a very nice young man, with agricultural ancestors in new amsterdam. "won't you give me these, mr. gwathmey?" pleaded h. r. "we never send out such rough--" "these are not the firm's, but gwathmey's. just sign your name and let me keep these as souvenirs. please!" and h. r. smiled with boyish eagerness. mr. gwathmey signed his initials, and reluctantly gave the drawings to h. r., shaking his modest head deprecatingly. h. r. reverently put the precious sheets in his pocket and said: "thank you very much. now you get your best sculptor to model my ultimate sandwich by to-morrow, won't you?" then he proceeded to contradict in advance--a purely feminine habit, sometimes used with great effect by masculine leaders--"oh yes, he can. i'm sure _you_ can make him do it if you wish to be nice!" what reply could mr. gwathmey possibly make? he made it. "i'll do my best, mr. rutgers; but--" "then it's done," said h. r., with such conviction that mr. gwathmey filled his own lungs with oxygen. "and the designs for the various kinds of sandwich-boards, in color, with the different materials indicated. send them to me, allied arts building, won't you?" h. r. forgot to say anything about costs. only the nobility forget such things, for the nobility know that valiquet's work is perfect. mr. gwathmey therefore forgot to be cautious. he said, "very well, mr. rutgers." "thank you so much!" that little phrase of gratitude in that same tone of voice has often made plebeians feel like dying to prove _their_ gratitude. then h. r. hesitated, looked at mr. gwathmey, and, recklessly vaulting over all caste-barriers, said, "i wish to shake hands with the man who designed my sandwiches!" mr. gwathmey actually blushed as he shook hands warmly. the moment h. r. left, mr. gwathmey rushed to his office to take steps to please young mr. rutgers. rutgers college--culture; hendrik--knickerbocker; no question about price--inherited wealth; newspaper front page--somebody! a nice boy, bless him! mr. gwathmey at that moment was the only man who really knew h. r. like a book! thus are historic characters analyzed by intimate friends. invaluable testimony! interesting side-lights! h. r. went back to his office and began to copy mr. gwathmey's designs. he had barely finished when andrew barrett entered. he looked humorous. young men always do when they are angry at having failed but do not wish to call it failure, and therefore must not look angry. defeat is never a joke. therefore a joke can never be an acknowledgment of defeat. very easy! origin: u. s. a. reason: national juvenility. before barrett could speak h. r. asked, "nobody would be first?" "no; nor second." "they will. did you properly play up the wisdom and glory of being first?" "of course." "go back and tell them that valiquet's will advertise with our sandwiches as soon as they have prepared artistic boards. the other men have lost the chance to be first. they are asses. tell them so and book them for second place. dwell strongly on the fact that the commercial standing of each shop will be determined by the richness of the sandwich-boards. tell them confidentially that valiquet's will do some wonderful stunts with real bronze and iridescent-glass mosaics valued at ten thousand dollars. the firm are taking big chances with breakage in a crowded avenue, but that's why they are on top of the heap. the department stores might try real lace edging and gold-thread hand-embroidery on genoese velvet." valiquet's advertising campaigns were models of ultra-conservatism and costly refinement. and now, sandwiches! "have you--" began young mr. barrett in awed tones. "i have. get busy! tell them to watch. on next monday begins the greatest revolution in advertising this country ever experienced. we are making history! pledge them to advertise through us, if we deliver the goods. it will be the only swell way. get that?" "betcherlife!" and mr. andrew barrett rushed off. vii h. r. went out to have his boards made. he distributed orders among wood-carvers and plaster-casting ateliers, and devised a method by which boards could be made on the principle of stereotypers' matrices, only the letters were raised. he pledged the makers to deliver the boards within twenty-four hours, and as he did not haggle over the price by the simple expedient of not asking for it, they promised. when a man is permitted to fix his own profit he will do anything except go to church. at seven sharp, accompanied by andrew barrett, h. r. went to caspar weinpusslacher's. he could not get a seat. people stood in dozens, waiting for the early dinner to finish. and most of the waiting customers were fashionably dressed. the colossal restaurant had become a fad. caspar greeted h. r. with respect. he did not yet feel strong enough to display ingratitude. "i'll fix a special table, mr. rutchers," he said. h. r. nodded assent and then sought fleming. at the longest table sat twenty-seven unionized artists. "are you getting the full thirty-cent dinner?" he asked, paternally. "yes, sir," fleming hastily assured him. h. r. looked at his men. they looked away uneasily. was this to be their last free meal? h. r. turned to andrew barrett and said in a voice that did not reach the members and therefore increased their uneasiness: "barrett, in unionizing these men, thereby making them free sandwiches, i had in mind several things; one of them was the absolute control of the new york papers." "how?" asked barrett in utter non-comprehension. "by organizing my men into a public sentiment corps. their duty will be to write letters to the newspapers. i figure that one bona-fide letter to each thirteen thousand one hundred and eighty-six circulation creates an irresistible demand. the _evening post_, of course, needs about one to five hundred readers. i think eleven letters will be enough there. our men already have names, and hereafter they will have permanent addresses." "and then?" "i furnish the paper, the stamps, and the literature. the men copy the letters. the newspapers will do the rest. did you bring the pads and pencils i told you?" "yes." "pass 'em around, one to each man." barrett did so. the men edged away in ill-concealed terror. "take up the pencils!" commanded h. r. the members acted as if the pencils were rattlesnakes. "did you hear me?" asked h. r., calmly. they trembled. but they were not slaves. no man can be compelled to write in a free country. by feeding these men h. r. had given them the courage to refuse to obey him! was the food an error, as charitable philosophers have declared? the pencils remained untouched before the men. fleming was the only one who obeyed. but he was by now almost a capitalist--he was a distributor of meal-tickets. "mutiny!" muttered andrew barrett, and looked anxiously at his chief. how would h. r. meet this crisis? the absolute control of the new york papers hung in the balance. but h. r. merely asked, pleasantly, "ready?" not a man stirred. they had forgotten that he could fight! "i will dictate and each of you must write down what i say. i want to know how well you can write." two of the men began to shake their heads with growing independence. others followed, for moral courage is contagious, even in industrial democracies. h. r. smiled confidently. that made them waver. confidence is the most demoralizing of all social factors. "now write what i say and sign your name after you finish." all of them shook their heads and frowned pugnaciously. h. r. dictated, "_please pay us five dollars a day!_" they grabbed the pencils with one lightning-like movement, and wrote, very plainly. they signed their names even more plainly. "give them to fleming. on monday we begin work. i shall consider the writing carefully." in this wise was organized the public sentiment corps of the s. a. s. a. literature, it had once more been demonstrated, is merely a matter of demand and supply. viii after dining in the company of barrett and caspar weinpusslacher, h. r. went to the agency that had handled his newspaper advertising, opened a charge account, and told them to send to all the morning papers the following advertisement: _wanted._--an actor who can look like a gentleman in good health before a critical audience of , . apply in person, without press notices. h. r. allied arts bldg. it was rather late in the evening when he sent for max onthemaker, but this only served to strengthen the learned counsel's high opinion of h. r. when h. r. told him what he proposed to do max jumped in the air for joy. then he sat down limply. it suddenly occurred to him that h. r. was far too intelligent. this is fatal to the right kind of newspaper publicity. but h. r. soothed him and dispelled max's doubts by showing him exactly how to become an efficient and altogether legal _agent provocateur_. the legal mind always concerns itself over the particular paragraph. it comes from numbering the statutes. max worked till dawn on his papers and arguments. on the next morning h. r. selected, out of several dozen applicants, four actors who looked really distinguished. the others walked away cursing the trust. they are never original, as a class, by reason of their habit of also reading the press notices of their colleagues. h. r. told the lucky four that he would give them the hardest part of their lives. they looked at him pityingly. he then guaranteed to get their pictures in all the papers. they looked blasé. he began to speak to them about fame and about money, and then about money and fame--the power to go into any restaurant and cause an instant cessation of all mastication, or walk into any manager's office and be entreated to sign, at any price, only sign--sign at once! they accepted on the spot, and asked when the engagement began. in their eagerness to be artists they forgot to ask the salary. h. r. then told them that they must introduce the art of sandwiching to new york. they must command the union sandwiches. _never!_ he explained to them very patiently, for he was dealing with temperaments, that to make sandwiching an art required the highest form of histrionic ability. anybody could look like a gentleman on the stage or in any of the fifth avenue drawing-rooms to which they were obviously accustomed. but, unmistakably to look like a gentleman between sandwich-boards would require a combination of richard mansfield and ancient lineage. he asked them kindly to ponder on the lamented edward vii. how would the kaiser act? that is the way he wanted his artists to act--like royalty. it was the highest art ever discovered. they would be the cynosure of all eyes on fifth avenue, where most eyes belong to wealthy women who always look for, as well as at, handsome men of discretion and bona-fide divorce decrees. the artists themselves would represent valiquet's, the world's greatest jewelers, and the newspapers would be told of the enormous salaries paid. some of the boards would be of real gold, to be valued at two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in the most conservative of the newspapers. the men also would be paid in cash, two dollars a day. "the idea is not to sandwich in the ordinary commercial way, but to give our press agents the swellest opportunity of the century. managers have used real diamonds on the stage. money buys them. i am using real gentlemen. money cannot make them. valiquet's never does anything inexpensive, and this is merely the first and most dazzling chapter in the history of the new art of advertising. the newspapers will duly chronicle the fact that each artist received one thousand dollars a week--which the artists have turned over to charity, like gentlemen. to be the theodore roosevelts of street advertisements is more than a privilege, more than an honor, more than art--it is _cash_! there have been sandwich-men. there shall be _sandwich-artists_! gentlemen, you will make history. if you feel you don't measure up to the job, you can get the hell out of here!" they not only signed, but begged to begin on that day, even though it was friday. but h. r. was adamant. "monday!" he said, "and no more remarks. report at nine a.m., dressed like gentlemen." andrew barrett reported enthusiastically that nearly every shop on the avenue was ready to sign contracts if valiquet's began. there had been some skepticism, and expectations were keyed up to the snapping-pitch. mr. gwathmey sent a dozen designs for boards and the model of the ultimate sandwich. it was really a beautiful piece of work. h. r.'s luck was with him. the young frenchman who did it came into his own years later. h. r. accepted them on official stationery of the society, ordered one hundred of each size, and also asked that the designs of the sandwich-boards be engraved in color. he told barrett to get valiquet's written acceptance of his order. on sunday all the newspapers were impressively notified that there would be some novel and revolutionary advertising on the avenue. to insure attention, the newspapers were simultaneously informed also that the fifth avenue merchants' guild had decided to advertise more extensively in the daily press. new york would give an object-lesson in optimism and confidence to the rest of the country. this would allay all fears as to the fundamental soundness of the general business situation. wall street might be in the dumps, but the legitimate merchants, up to the full-page size, were more truly representative of the metropolis. fleming had been told to detail himself, mulligan, and the four most typical sandwiches in the society to act as the advance-guard. he and the five were at the office early monday morning, so were the four histrionic artists, so was max onthemaker with nineteen injunctions, writs, and legal documents neatly typewritten, three process-servers, and thirty copies of a statement for the newspapers. each sandwich-man received his board and a copy of his own speech. it was a plea for equal rights and the cessation of hostilities against a poor man simply because he had no money, a prayer for the enforcement of the constitution, and three quotations from that obsolete book that taught sandwich-men how to turn the other cheek. also a post-scriptural assertion that each man went to church to pray and not to ask for unearned bread or jump on standard oil. max himself made them memorize the speech. they were letter perfect before he stopped. "this will kill 'em dead," he said, enthusiastically. "why, mr. rutgers, even the newspapers will think they are christians and--" "make them early christians," wisely advised h. r. "thats what the world needs to-day!" "you are right, as usual. hey, you fellows, add, _if we must die, we die forgiving our fellow-men in the knowledge that after death we shall come into our own._" "hey, i ain't going to be killed just to--" began mulligan, edging toward the door. "in the newspapers, ass! in the front page, imbecile!" shrieked max. mulligan shook his head doggedly. "mulligan!" said h. r., and clenched his right fist. "ye-es, boss." "i'll be there to see that you get the forty beers and i'll guarantee that you'll have a chance to assuage your thirst _after_ business hours." "all right, boss," said mulligan. "and i'll guarantee the thirst." "say, can you beat it?" admiringly asked max of andrew barrett. "where does he get it?" and he tapped his own cranium sadly. "and, mulligan, if you should be locked up," added h. r., "the first thing you do when you get to jail is to declare a hunger strike. this will stamp you as crusaders! and crusaders never frighten business." "great heavens!" whispered max. "do we get the--" began mulligan, anxiously. "nothing need be said about drinking. you'll get your forty." "they can do their damnedest," said mulligan, looking like a hero-martyr. "refer all reporters to your counsel," finally advised max. "forget everything else, but not that, not that!" ix the four great actors, distinguished-looking, positively beau brummelesque, in shining top-hats of the latest fashion, went out of the allied arts building to make history. they walked ahead abreast, their eyes fixed straight ahead. pedestrians instinctively parted to let them by. then they asked questions. andrew barrett's agents answered the questions. "they are the advance-guard. you ought to see what's coming!" the faint sense of waiting for something worth waiting for, that so far only the annual police parade has been able to arouse in new york was discernible on the faces of the spectators. they began to cluster on the edges of the sidewalks. the chauffeurs began to look anxious. honestly, they did! andrew barrett had shown to the other shop-keepers the valiquet designs and told them to watch for the great jewelers' astounding coup. he booked twenty-two orders for the next week. at two o'clock the artists sallied forth once more. the throngs opened for them to pass. those spectators who had put off lunching to see the epoch-making stunt were rewarded. they saw four perfectly attired gentlemen in top-hats, carrying dazzling escutcheons worthy of the premier jewel-shop in the world. the six, walking professionally, carried the most beautiful boards ever seen, with these legends: [illustration: this board designed by valiquet's premier jewelers of america] [illustration: wonders of the world! the old world had seven! the new world has only one: valiquet's] they were followed by the six picked sandwiches, in their working-clothes, but with wonderful boards. [illustration: for silver and gold, pearls, diamonds, rubies, emeralds, exclusive designs valiquet's who designed this board] [illustration: valiquet's official designers of the american society of sandwich artists] the sandwich was the thing! the sandwich-men were merely artists. the spectators recalled that ultimately all men and all women must become sandwiches. it made new-yorkers realize that death was still on the job. this gave them something to talk about that night at dinner, before dancing. also three hundred and fifty thousand people saw the o. k. of "_h. r._" it is easy to remember two letters. it was an extraordinary sensation. the big shops emptied themselves. in mcquery's and oldman's and mann & baker's the rush to the avenue doors was so great that floor-walkers who tried to stem the tide were crushed, manlike, by the women and borne, half-clad, upon the sidewalk. the proprietors looked at the crowds, heard the same remark, "what is it?" by the tens of thousands, saw the sandwiches, saw the looks on the tens of thousands of faces, and said, "damn!" they had not heard the knock of opportunity, and valiquet's had. no wonder the jewel firm's regular two-hundred-per-cent. quarterly dividends were regular. it wasn't the big profit in gems; it was the cars! the proprietors blamed their advertising managers. the triumphal march of the sandwiches was more than a success, more than a sensation. it was an event. the four top-hatted histrions then and there forswore the stage. no artist had ever won such triumphs since nero. they had started as beau brummels. they had become kaisers--only infinitely more cæsarean. and the union sandwiches following in indian file, oblivious, like true artists, of the admiration of the rabble, thought of the end of the day, of the forty beers and the free food--of unearned wealth!--and actually swaggered so that their parasite-infested hirsuteness and their beast-faces took on an aspect of aristocratic eccentricity, of zeal for a noble cause. their rags, in juxtaposition to the dazzling gorgeousness of their sandwich-boards, thus became ecclesiastical vestments--pilgrims wearing tatters in fulfillment of lenten vows of renunciation. it was, of course, the masterly combination. valiquet's was the last word in swellness, the label of utterly inutilitarian wealth. the sandwich business was therefore the postscript. "only valiquet's would think of doing such a thing!" said all fifth avenue, as usual giving credit to commercial genius instead of to the creative artist. the other mercantile geniuses, seeing that their shoppers had declared a legal holiday, frantically telephoned to mr. andrew barrett to send out _their_ sandwiches at once. they would pay ten dollars per man; yes, twenty dollars. only do it now! they did not wish to be put in the position of _following_. this is fatal on fifth avenue. valiquet's was skimming the cream! never mind submitting the legends! get a hustle on! never mind striking catch-phrases. that would come later. get the sandwiches on the avenue! the bare name and the sandwiches! the crowd, who had not had time to forget about the sandwich-men's parade of a few days before, cleverly saw that this was the second chapter. they therefore knew all about it and could and would say so to their less-clever fellow-beings. completeness of knowledge is one of the nicest feelings in the world. barrett excitedly reported the avalanche of orders to h. r. and was promptly and calmly despatched to the board-makers to order fifty boards each of the six valiquet designs, three hundred in all. h. r. then dictated a statement for publication, as to the real meaning of sandwiching on fifth avenue. it was not merely advertising--it was philanthropy. much more went to feeding starving artists at the colossal restaurant than to the militant brethren in the shape of wages. it was also the best way of advertising fifth avenue's wares. mr. wilberforce josslyn, president of valiquet's corporation, was told of the sandwich desecration of the holy name. his private secretary alone had the courage to impart the news. mr. wilberforce josslyn, feeling that he had to be to his help what his firm was to the world, turned around in his circassian-walnut swivel-chair, said, "_stop 'em!_" and revolved again. the secretary carried the order to the first vice-president, mr. angus macackus; the first vice-president took it upon himself not only to stop 'em, but to punish 'em. he hastily descended to the main floor. what he saw through the fifth avenue doors appalled him, and worse. even within the sacred precincts of the shop the reckless jewel-buying public and the conservative charge-accounts alike were talking about it, actually congratulating the gentlemanly salesmen and the courtly department-managers and the obliging watch-repairers. two men, whom he recognized as reporters by their intellectual faces, approached him, but he ran away from them toward the door. mrs. vandergilt, undisputed tsarina of society, was in one of the compartments of the plate-glass and solid-silver stile, and he waited in order to welcome her. they did not make a hundred thousand a year out of her, for she was not from detroit, but they had been official jewelers to the family for sixty years, as they were of all the vans who were van somebody. the annual storage of the vandergilt crown jewels was a regular yearly story, like the police parade and the first snow-storm. "macackus," said mrs. vandergilt in her sharp, imperious voice, "why did you do it? not to advertise?" "certainly not," answered mr. macackus, forgetting himself and speaking with heat. "i thought not. well, i am glad you are helping. i shall send my check to them. poor men!" then she had one of those moments of kindliness that made people worship her: "it was a very clever thing to do, macackus. i am glad you had not only the brains, but the courage." the reporters heard her. it was their business to get the news. mr. macackus realized that mrs. vandergilt's approval had changed the complexion of the affair. at the same time, valiquet's never talked for publication, and the remarks of their clients were sacred. he turned to the reporters and said in the peremptory tone that makes reporters so obedient: "not a word of this! do you understand?" "we understand perfectly," said the _american_. "we certainly do!" and wrote what mrs. vandergilt had said and what she was wearing. it would be a text for one of arthur migraine's editorial sermons, proving that millionaires, instead of being blown into atoms, should be freely permitted to give money for starving men to convert into food. in fact, nature wisely provided that millionaires should have money to give away. the more the poor received the less the millionaire would take to the useless grave. mr. macackus, greatly perturbed by this deviation from the norm, rushed to the president's office to tell him mrs. vandergilt's opinion. before he could speak, mr. wilberforce josslyn said: "did you stop 'em?" "no, sir. let me explain. mrs. vandergilt just came in and--" "i sent word to have 'em stopped!" said mr. josslyn, frowning. "let me explain, mr. josslyn--" disobedience cannot be explained away. discipline must be enforced. it is better to blunder under orders than to prevent disorganization from interfering with dividends. the obvious advantage that a corporation president has over his subordinates is that he does not have to be hampered by petty details. "stop 'em!" he said, coldly. "mrs. vandergilt said--" "and mr. josslyn said stop 'em!" he turned his back on macackus, who thereupon rushed downstairs, frowning angrily. he'd stop 'em. he walked out into the avenue. it was blocked. he tried to elbow his way through the intelligent femininity and was nearly run in by a traffic policeman. the women refused to budge--the sandwiches were coming. and would you believe it? as the shining top-hats drew near, the crowd actually divided itself, red-sea-wise, to let h. r.'s chosen people pass safely. mr. macackus did not faint, because he was too angry. he stepped in front of the four obvious gentlemen and held up a hand. he could not speak. but the four, who had been elevated to imperial dignity by new york, moved on so majestically that mr. macackus began to retreat before them, waving his hand frantically. he stepped backward, keeping time to their steps, his hand moving up and down in his wrath. it looked for all the world like a band-master indicating to his artists just how to play it. backward he stepped; onward they marched; until speech returned to him: "stop! _stop! stop!_" they did not hear him. he called to a policeman, "stop 'em!" h. r. had won! the officer ran up. he was a policeman. he therefore said, "what's the matter?" "these men have no right to use our name. we did not authorize them. we wish them stopped from using our firm's name for--er--advertising purposes. it's against the law. i'll make a complaint against them. stop 'em!" max onthemaker came forward, his face pale with determination. four reporters trailed along. "touch these gentlemen at your peril!" he said to the policeman. "here is a sworn copy of the statute referred to by that person." he shoved a typewritten document under the officer's nose. there were two seals on it; one was in anarchistic red and the other in wall street gold. "observe," pursued mr. onthemaker, impressively and very distinctly, that the reporters might not misquote, "that the statute says _the name of a living person_ must not be used. but valiquet's is a corporation. do you get that, officer? a _corporation_!" the officer read the newspapers. he knew what corporations were. they bought votes for the republicans; and, besides, they only paid the men higher up. he therefore informed mr. macackus: "i can't do not'n." "and even if you could, officer," said mr. onthemaker to the reporters, "the magistrate would let them go with a reprimand for you. we are ready for him." then he said to macackus: "get out of the way, or i'll have you arrested for blocking traffic, causing a crowd to collect, for assuming that you own the sidewalk, and for interfering with honest working-men who are trying to earn a peaceful living. also for oppressing the poor. we have not asked you for money. we do not wish your charity." he paused, and, shaking a finger at mr. macackus, said, loudly, "_we spurn your tainted money!_" h. r. had not made a mistake in picking out this man to represent the society. indeed, one reporter, in a stage whisper, actually hissed: "_bribery!_" the officer looked at mr. macackus and said, "please move on, sir." "that's polite enough," said one of the reporters, making a note of it. but mr. macackus said: "why, you infernal--" "_move on!_" said the cop. "i am mr. macackus, of valiquet's--" "tell him who you are, officer," said the diabolic onthemaker, guessing the cop's nationality. "i am mr. mcginnis, of the thirty-first precinct." people began to clap their hands--people who never went into valiquet's. mr. mcginnis thereupon laid a hand proudly on mr. macackus's arm. mr. macackus lost his head; that is, he shook off the white-gloved hand of the law. the law blew its whistle, as the law always does in civilized communities. instantly, as though the whistle had been the cue, the stirring sound of galloping steeds smote the asphalt of fifth avenue. "let him go, officer mcginnis," said max onthemaker, magnanimously. "we do not care to appear against him." "ain't he fine-looking?" a woman asked her companion, looking at the law. she even pointed at him. mr. mcginnis therefore haughtily said, "resisting an officer--" h. r. on horseback, in correct riding attire, following seven mounted traffic-squad men, appeared on the scene. "there he is!" said mr. onthemaker to the reporters, dutifully yielding the center of the stage to its rightful possessor. after all, there was only one h. r., and both h. r. and max onthemaker knew it. "that's the commissioner," said a clerk to the atmosphere. "it's young vandergilt!" asserted the fickle one who had thought mcginnis was fine-looking. before the traffic squad could dismount, h. r. jumped down from his horse, threw the reins to one of the mounted officers, said, "look after him!" so decisively that no remonstrance was possible, approached the group, and said, "i'm mr. rutgers!" fifth avenue was impassable now. "_who_ is it?" asked ten thousand who had been asking, "_what_ is it?" those who had heard proudly repeated the name to those who had not. within forty seconds, as far as thirty-fourth street, intelligent new-yorkers were saying, "it's mr. rutgers!" officer mcginnis touched his white-gloved hand to his cap. "that's hendrik rutgers!" explained max onthemaker to the reporters. h. r. looked mr. macackus in the eye and said, with patrician frigidity: "if you think you have any ground for a civil action, go ahead. my office is in the allied arts building. i'll accept service in person or through my counsel here." a murmur went up: these were law-abiding men. they therefore must be not only right, but mighty sure of it. all the lieutenant dared say, when he saw the representative of business and the representative of the leisure class was: "gentlemen, i'm afraid you're blocking traffic. perhaps, if you went inside--" "follow me!" said h. r. to his men, and he led them into thirty-seventh street. he halted fifty feet from the corner. mr. macackus had followed and unlimbered his heavy artillery. "this infernal outrage--" h. r. lost all patience. he said to the mounted lieutenant, "take us to the magistrate!" to max onthemaker he whispered, "got the papers with you?" "and the reporters, too," answered the able counsel with much pride, as though the reporters were his own private property loaned to the cause for the occasion without charge. seeing that the police made no move, h. r. said, determinedly: "i insist upon going before the magistrate. you can report it at the station later and save us time." this made the police officer hesitate. it always does. it works on the principle of treating your opponent as if he were a taxicabby who has overcharged. "i guess that's the best way," said the lieutenant. "thank you, inspector. will you kindly tell one of your men to bring my mount along? thank you!" said h. r. politeness pays. by saying "thank you" in advance of the service no gentleman can refuse. at the magistrate's court the session was short and sweet. mr. onthemaker looked eloquent. the clerk who had typewritten the restraining orders whispered, "it's no. !" and his chief picked it out of the seventeen without hesitation. everybody was impressed by the obvious efficiency. efficiency must never be hidden. the argument prepared by mr. onthemaker was one of the best his honor had ever heard. he needed it for his own fall campaign. it certainly read well. he even read it in print--in advance. "let me see your argument," said the magistrate, and when mr. onthemaker gave him the speech he put it in his inside pocket. he did not know what to say until he saw the reporters taking notes. then he knew. "discharged!" he said. it was the most popular decision in new york. max onthemaker looked at his watch. morris lazarus by this time had doubtless applied for an order restraining valiquet's from interfering with the lawful business of jean gerard, walter townsend, j. j. fleming, william mulligan, william f. farquhar, marmaduke de beanville, wilton lazear, percival willoughby, and francis drake. "we have secured an injunction against valiquet's. here it is," said mr. onthemaker. "you are the vice-president of your _corporation_. you might as well learn your own business from me." then, with a fierce frown that there might be no back talk, he explained, with utter finality, "this is a _certified copy_!" he approached mr. macackus and took advantage of the contiguity to whisper: "if you don't wish to make your concern the laughing-stock of america get busy and keep the newspapers from printing that you were fool enough to oppose us in our perfectly legal position. bear in mind that if you fight us you make us." "no compromise!" said h. r., sternly. "no, sir," answered onthemaker, meekly. then he hissed at macackus, "do as i tell you, you boob!" mr. macackus clearly realized that this was a conspiracy. that always makes business men fear that they may lose money. the fear of that always sharpens their wits. it comes from a lifetime's training. it was all mr. josslyn's fault. this made mr. macackus almost despair. but he said, very kindly, to the reporters, "gentlemen, will you all be good enough to call at our office before you print anything?" the reporters, very kindly also, told him they would. the free sandwiches returned to fifth avenue. it was an ovation! art again had triumphed! proudly, up and down, from thirty-fourth to forty-second and back on the other side, they marched unhindered. the reporters did justice to the story. like all really big stories, it was legitimate news. they had indeed suspected advertising until h. r. refused to speak about himself. "all you please about my poor sandwiches, but not one word about me. i have merely tried to rehabilitate the pariahs of the great mercantile world by reviving the lost art of perambulating publicity. if i have succeeded in making sandwiches free in new york, my work is done. please do not mention my name!" then he leaned over confidentially and said, very earnestly: "my family is conservative, and they hate to see the old name in print. don't use it, boys. please! that's why i never sign more than my initials!" ah, it was not alone modesty, but high social position and inherited wealth that were responsible for "h. r." instead of the full name? and the reporters? news is what is novel; also what is rare. h. r. was therefore doubly news. the minds of the reporters did not work like h. r.'s, but they arrived at the same point at the same time. this is genius--on the part of the other man. keeping your mouth shut after it happens is a still higher form of genius. the newspapers gave him from two to six columns. since the reporters could not get anything about h. r. from h. r., they got everything from max onthemaker, from the sandwich-men, from andrew barrett, and also from their inner consciousness and psychological insight. nine newspapers; nine different heroes; one name--and initials at that! x andrew barrett was made office-manager as well as business-getter. he was ordered to pay for the two additional clerks and the bookkeeper out of his own commissions or resign. he paid. this was real business because even then young mr. barrett was overpaid for his work. but his real acumen was in recognizing a great man. since the pay-roll was a matter of mr. andrew barrett's personally selected statistics, h. r. was certainly a wonder. on tuesday morning h. r., feeling that his own greatness had already become merely a matter of greater greatness, turned, manlike, to thoughts of love: he would share his greatness! he would make grace goodchild marry him. he was sure he would succeed. he saw very clearly, indeed, how mr. goodchild, being a conservative banker, could be compelled to say yes. in addition he would make grace love him. the strongest love is that love which is stronger than hatred or fear. therefore the love that begins by hating or fearing is best. to overcome the inertia of non-loving is not so difficult as to stop the backward motion and turn it into forward. he sat down and wrote a note: dear grace, i am sending you herewith a few clippings. remember what i told you. don't let father prejudice you. hope to see you soon. busy as the dickens. yours, h. r. _p.s._--i love you because you are _you!_ certainly i am crazy. but, dear, _i know it_! with the note he sent her eighty-three inches of clippings and fourteen pictures. if that wasn't fame, what was? he also sent flowers. that afternoon before the _thé dansant_ hour he called at the goodchild residence. "miss goodchild!" he said to the man, instead of asking for her. he pulled out his watch, looked at it, and before the man could say he would see if she were at home to h. r., added, "yes!" he was punctual, as the man could see. the man therefore held out a silver card-tray. "say it's mr. rutgers," h. r. told him. "and straighten out that rug. you've walked over it a dozen times!" it was plain to see that it was h. r. who really owned this house. he must, since he wasn't afraid of the servants. and the worst of it was that the footman could not resent it: the gentleman was so obviously accustomed to regarding servants as domestic furniture. he dehumanized footmen, deprived them of souls, left them merely arms and legs to obey, machine-like. they call such "well-ordered households." certainly not. it isn't a matter of the orders, but of the soul-excision. grace goodchild walked in--behind her mother. the footman stood by the door, evidently by request. everything in civilized communities is by request. "how do you do?" said h. r., pleasantly. "is this mother?" he bowed to mrs. goodchild--the bow of a social equal--his eyes full of a highly intelligent appreciation of physical charm. then he asked grace, "did you read them?" mrs. goodchild had intended to be stern, but the young man's undisguised admiration softened her wrath to pleasant sarcasm. "i wished to see for myself," she said, not very hostilely, "if you were insane. i see you are--" "i am," agreed h. r., amicably, "and have been since i saw her. and the worst of it is, i am very proud of it." "will you oblige me by leaving this house quietly?" "certainly," h. r. assured her. "i didn't come to stay--this time. i'm glad to have seen you. has grace told you i'm to be your son-in-law?" he looked at her proudly, yet meekly. it was wonderful how well he managed to express the conflict. then he apologized contritely. "i was too busy to call before. my grandmother has never met you, has she?" he looked at her anxiously, eager to clear mrs. goodchild's name before the court of his family. at one fell swoop h. r. had deleted the name of goodchild from the society columns. mrs. goodchild said, huskily, "frederick, ring for a policeman." "i'll break his damned neck if he does," said h. r., with patrician calmness. "don't you ever again dare to listen while i am here, frederick. you may go." h. r. looked so much as if he meant what he said that grace was pleasantly thrilled by his masterfulness. but not for worlds would she show it facially. when a woman can't lie to the man who loves her she lies to herself by looking as she does not feel. "do you wish me to go? for the sake of peace?" he asked grace, anxiously. there was nothing he would not do, no torture too great to endure, for her sake--not even the exquisite agony of absence. that there might be no misunderstanding, he added, softly, "do you?" "don't you talk to my daughter!" said mrs. goodchild, furious at being excluded from the supreme command. hearing no assent, she was compelled by the law of nature to repeat herself: "don't you talk to my daughter!" h. r. looked at her in grieved perplexity. "do you mean that you are deliberately going to be a comic-weekly mother-in-law and make me the laughing-stock of my set?" feeling the inadequacy of mere words to express the thought she had not tried to express, mrs. goodchild called on her right hand for aid; she pointed. being concerned with gesture rather than intent on direction, she, alas! pointed to a window. he shook his head at her and then at the window, and told her: "to jump out of that one would be as bad as having me arrested. do you want the infernal reporters to make you ridiculous? do you realize that i am the most-talked-about man in all new york? don't you know what newspaper ridicule is? don't you? say no!" to make sure of her own grasp of the situation mrs. goodchild, who was dying to shriek at the top of her voice, compressed her lips. h. r. instantly perceived the state of affairs and double-turned the key by fiendishly placing his right forefinger to his own lips. this would give to his mother-in-law the two excellent habits of obedience and silence. he turned to the girl and said: "grace, don't hide behind your mother. let me look my fill. it's got to last me a whole week!" grace saw in his face and knew from his voice that he was neither acting nor raving. his words were as the gospel, the oldest of all gospels, which, unlike all others, is particularly persuasive in the springtime. he was a fine-looking chap, and the newspapers were full of him, and he was in love with her. he interested her. but of course he was impossible. but also she was new york, and, to prove it, she must be epigrammatic. all her life she had listened to high-class vaudeville. she said, icily, yet with a subtle consciousness of her own humor, "if you wish to worship, why don't you try a church?" "which?" he retorted so promptly and meaningly that she almost felt the wedding-ring on her finger. he pursued: "and when? i have the license all ready. see?" he pulled out of his pocket a long envelope containing a communication from valiquet's lawyer. "here it is!" and he held it toward her. being young and healthy, she laughed approvingly. "has it come to this, in my own house?" exclaimed mrs. goodchild in dismay. being rich and living in new york, she did not know her daughter's affairs. "why not?" asked h. r., with rebuking coldness. "in whose house should our marriage be discussed?" then he spoke to grace with a fervor that impressed both women: "i love you as men used to love when they were willing to murder for the sake of their love. look at me!" he spoke so commandingly that grace looked, wonder and doubt in her eyes. in some women incertitude expresses itself in silence. her mother was of a different larynx. she wailed: "what shall i do? what shall i do?" and sank back in her arm-chair. after one second's hesitation mrs. goodchild decided to clasp her own hands with a gesture of helplessness such as pilate would have used had he been mrs. pontius. she did so, turning the big emerald _en cabochon_, so that she could plaintively gaze at it. eight thousand dollars. then she turned the gem accusingly in the direction of this man who might, for all she knew, be penniless. he was good-looking. hendrik was dutch. so was rutgers. could he belong? "i beg your pardon, moth--mrs. goodchild," said h. r. so very courteously and contritely that he looked old-fashioned. "you must forgive me. but she _is_ beautiful! she will grow, god willing, to look more like you every day. by making me regard the future with pleasurable anticipation, you yourself give me one more reason why i must marry grace." grace looked at her mother and smiled--at the effect. mrs. goodchild confessed to forty-six. "i am making grace goodchild famous," h. r. pursued, briskly, and paused that they might listen attentively to what was to follow. mother and daughter looked at him with irrepressible curiosity. their own lives had so few red-blooded thrills for them that they enjoyed theatricals as being "real life." this man was an experience! he shook his head and explained, mournfully: "it is very strange, this thing of not belonging to yourself but to the world. it is a sacrifice grace must make!" his voice rang with a subtle regret. but suddenly he raised his head proudly and looked straight at her. "it is a sacrifice worth making--for the sake of the downtrodden whom you will uplift with your beauty. _au revoir_, grace. _i am needed!_" he approached her. she tried to draw back. he halted before her, took her hand, raised it to his lips and kissed it. "i am the dirt under your feet," he murmured, and left the room. his was the gait of the invincibles. he had cast a bewitching spell of unreality over the entire drawing-room that made grace feel like both actress and audience. she heard him in the hall calling, "frederick!" and, after a brief pause, "my hat and cane!" there was another pause. then she heard frederick say, infinitely more respectfully than frederick had ever spoken to mr. goodchild, "thank _you_ very much, sir." mrs. goodchild paid frederick by the month for working. h. r. had given frederick twenty dollars for being an utterly useless menial. hence frederick's logical gratitude and respect. xi h. r. walked to his office, thinking of the engagement-ring. he therefore rang for maximilian onthemaker, esquire. "come up at once!" "damnation, i will," said max. "i'm busy as the dickens, but an order from you is--" "another front page--with pictures!" "i'm half-way up, already!" said max. before the telephone receiver could descend on the holder, h. r. heard a voice impatiently shriek, "down!" to an elevator-man two and one-half miles away. when mr. onthemaker, his face alight with eagerness to serve the cause of the poor sandwich-men free gratis, for nothing, could speak, h. r. told him, calmly: "max, i am going to marry the only daughter of george g. goodchild, president of the ketcham national bank. get photographs of her. try la touche and the other fashionable photographers. they will require an order from miss goodchild." "written?" asked mr. onthemaker, anxiously. "i don't know." "i'll call up my office, and miss hirschbaum will give the order." "can she talk like--" "oh, she goes to the swell gentile theaters," max reassured him. "don't say i'm engaged, and tell 'em not to bother the parents." he meant the reporters. max thought of nothing else. "leave it to me. say, hendrik--" "mr. rutgers!" the voice and the look made max tremble and grow pale. "i was only joking," he apologized, weakly. he never repeated the offense. "i'll attend to it, mr. hendrik-- i mean mr. rutgers." "when barrett comes in i'll send him down to you. good day." when andrew barrett returned he said, impetuously, "i'm afraid i'll have to have some help, h. r." "i was going to tell you, my boy, that from to-morrow on you will have to go on salary." barrett's smiles vanished. he shook his head. h. r. went on, in a kindly voice: "you've done very well and i'm much pleased with your work. but you mustn't be a hog." barrett had made bushels of money by taking advantage of the opportunity to do so. the victorious idea was another's, the machinery was the society's, the work was done by the sandwiches. but mr. andrew barrett was the salesman, the transmuter into cash. he was entitled to all he desired to make so long as he didn't raise prices. injustice stared him in the face with smiles! reducing his gain and smiling! h. r. would as lief get another man! barrett forgot that he could get no business until h. r.'s astounding valiquet's coup made the agent's job one of merely writing down names. he forgot it, but he did not forget his own successor. all he could say, in a boyishly obstinate way, was, "well, i think--" "you mustn't think, and especially you must not think i'm an ass. you know very well that this is only the beginning of a very remarkable revolution in the advertising business. i need your services in installing the machinery and organizing the office, details that i leave to you because you have brains. your salary will be a hundred a week and five per cent. on all new business. after i pass on to a still higher field i will make you a present of this business for you to have and to hold till death do you part. the barrett advertising agency will be all yours. it will do a bigger business every year. and if you don't like it, you may leave this minute. you are young yet. is it settled?" andrew barrett nodded. h. r. said, seriously: "it's about time sandwiching spread. how many on the avenue to-day?" "nineteen firms; one hundred and eleven men. i think--" h. r. knew what barrett was about to say. he therefore said it for barrett. "now that you have fifth avenue, move west and east to sixth and madison and fourth and try broadway and twenty-third and thirty-fourth and forty-second--" "i was just going to propose it to you," said barrett, aggrievedly. "i know you have brains. that's why you are here. i trust you implicitly. this is a man's job. there will be big money in it for you. for me--" he ceased speaking, and stared meditatively out of the window. andrew barrett wondered with all his soul what the chief was reading in big print in the future. andrew barrett waited. presently h. r. frowned. then he smiled slightly. barrett stared fascinatedly. ah, the lure of mystery! if more men appreciated it, polygamy would be inevitable--and liberal divorce laws. h. r. looked up. "oh, are you here?" he smiled paternally, forgivingly. barrett beamed. "my boy, i wish you'd run over to max onthemaker's or get him on the telephone. the newspapers are going to publish it." "yes, sir, i will. er--what are they--what are you going to spring on an enraptured metropolis? "my impending marriage to grace goodchild, only daughter of goodchild, president of the ketcham national bank. see that it is well handled. and, barrett?" "yes, sir?" "the old people don't relish the idea. she is the most beautiful girl in new york." "i've seen her! pippinissima!" exclaimed andrew barrett, heartfully. "ten millions," said hendrik rutgers, calmly. "my god!" whispered young mr. barrett, new-yorker. he meant what he said. ten millions! mr. onthemaker, andrew barrett, and their faithful phalanx of star space men who always signed their stuff called in a body on la touche, the photographer of the moment. he refused to give them miss goodchild's photograph. he wished his name used, of course, but he was too sensible to disregard professional ethics. "mr. rutgers said we could get it," said andrew barrett, sternly. "i must have her permission. hang it, boys, i am just as anxious as you--as i can be to do what i can for you. but i don't dare. these swell people are _queer_!" the photographer explained, aggrievedly. "i'll call her up myself," said max onthemaker, resolutely. "what's the goodchild number?" he went to the telephone and gave the number of his own office in low tones. presently he said, loudly enough to be heard by all, "is this fifth avenue?" he alone heard the answer. he would not lie. he was a lawyer. it was unnecessary. "can i speak with miss goodchild? no; _miss_ goodchild." after a judiciously measured pause he spoke again: "good afternoon. this is mr. onthemaker speaking. quite well, thank you. i hope you are the same!... that's good!... yes, miss, i saw him this morning. the papers wish to publish your photograph.... i'm sorry, but they say they simply must!... i am at la touche's studio.... they doubtless do not do you justice, but they are the best ever taken of you--... no, i don't think they can wait for new ones.... one moment, please--" he held his hand in front of the transmitter so she couldn't hear him say to la touche: "she wants some new ones." "to-morrow at two," said la touche. "give us the old ones now," chorused the reporters. "we'll publish the new ones for the wedding." "i am sorry"--max again spoke into the telephone--"but they say they want some now. they'll use the others later.... which one?... the one mr. rutgers likes?... yes, ma'am. thank you very much." foreseeing unintelligent incredulity, mr. onthemaker did not hang up the receiver. it was just as well, for the cautious la touche said, "i want to talk to her." "certainly," said max, and hastily rose. "miss goodchild," said the photographer, respectfully, "will it be all right if i let the reporters have--" "give him the one mr. rutgers likes," came in a sweet voice, without the slightest trace of yiddish or catarrh. they would be wonderful linguists, if they didn't always begin by, "say, listen." "which one is that?" "the one he likes. and please send the bill to me, not to papa," with the accent properly on the last syllable. "there will be no charge, miss goodchild. thank you. i only wished to make sure you approved." la touche rose and, turning to the friendly reporters, asked, wrathfully, "how in blazes do i know which is the one mr. rutgers liked?" "let us pick it out," said one reporter. he wore his hair long. "any one will do," said another, considerately. "i think i know which it is," said barrett, taking pity on the photographer. to mr. onthemaker he whispered, "max, you're a second h. r." "i try to be," modestly said sam. and so the newspapers published the official preference of the lucky man. they published it because she was going to marry h. r. that same morning mr. goodchild called up the city editors. he was so stupid that he was angry. he threatened criminal action and also denied the engagement. rutgers was only a discharged clerk who had worked in his bank. he had been annoying his daughter, but he, mr. goodchild, would take steps to put an end to further persecution. rutgers would not be allowed to call. he had, mr. goodchild admitted, called--uninvited. had a man no privacy in new york? what was the matter with the police? what was he paying taxes for--to be annoyed by insane adventurers and damned reporters? he didn't want any impertinence. if they didn't print the denial of the engagement and the facts he would put the matter in his lawyer's hands. the afternoon papers that day and the morning papers on the next printed another portrait of miss grace goodchild because she was not engaged to h. r. it was so exactly what a wall street millionaire father would do that everybody in new york instantly recognized a romance in high life! grace goodchild never had known before how many people knew her and how many more wished to know her. the reporters camped on her front door-steps and the camera specialists could not be shooed away by mr. goodchild when he was going out on his way to the bank. he assaulted a photographer. the papers therefore printed a picture of the infuriated money power in the act of using a club on a defenseless citizen. they did it very cleverly: by manipulating the plates they made mr. goodchild look four times the size of the poor photographer. max onthemaker brought suit for fifty thousand dollars damages to the feelings, cranium, and camera of jeremiah legare, the _tribune_'s society snapper. from a.m. to p.m. grace held a continuous levee. mrs. goodchild was in handsomely gowned hysterics. mr. goodchild got drunk at his club. yes, he did. the house committee ignored it. when they saw the afternoon papers they condoned it. and yet all that the newspapers said was that grace goodchild and hendrik rutgers were _not_ married. and they blame the papers for inaccuracy. h. r. knew that he must make his love for grace plausible, and his determination to marry her persistent and picturesque. his concern was with the public. he therefore called up grace on the telephone. at the other end they wished to know who was speaking. he replied, "tell frederick to come to the telephone at once!" frederick responded. "are you there?" asked h. r., after the fashion of frederick's compatriots. "frederick, go instantly to miss grace and tell her to come to the telephone on a matter of life and death. it's mr. rutgers. don't mention my name." this wasn't one of frederick's few duties when he deigned to accept employment in the goodchild household. but h. r. expected to be obeyed. therefore he was obeyed. "yes, sir; very good, sir," said frederick, proud to act as mercury. he rushed off. "telephone, miss grace. he said it was a matter of life and death." "who is it? another reporter?" "oh no, ma'am. he's waiting, my lady." once in a while frederick proved that he was worth his weight in gold by forgetting that he was in america. when he did, he always called grace my lady. she therefore went to the telephone. of course h. r. was born lucky. but, as a matter of fact, by deliberately establishing frederick on a plane of perennial inferiority he had made such a stroke of luck inevitable. since it was a matter of life and death, grace instantly asked, "_who_ is it?" "listen, grace. the entire country is going wild about you. your portrait is being admired from maine to california. but bear up with what's coming. we've got to bring father around to our way of thinking, and--" "who is it? who is it?" "great scott! can't you recognize the voice? it's hendrik." her exasperated nerves made her say, angrily, "i think you are--" "don't think i'm conceited, but i know it." "i feel like telling you--" "i'll say it for you. close your ears till i'm done." after a pause: "i've insulted myself. i love you all the more for it! grace, you must be brave! if you survive this next week--" "my god!" she said, invoking divine aid for the first time since they moved to fifth avenue, thinking of what the newspapers could say. "he's with us, sweetheart," hendrik assured her. "are you an episcopalian?" "yes!" she replied before she could think of not answering. "good! i love you. wait!" his voice as he entreated her to wait rang with such anguish that she irrepressibly asked, "what?" "_i love you!_" he left the telephone and gathered together sixty-eight clippings, which he put in an envelope. he went to a fashionable florist, opened an account, and ordered some exquisite flowers. they were going to ask for financial references, but the flowers he ordered were so expensive that they felt ashamed of their own distrust. he stopped at valiquet's, where they hated him so much that they respected him, bought a wonderful gold vanity-box, inside of which he sent a card. on the card he wrote: _more than ever!_ h. r. he sent clippings, flowers, and vanity-box to miss goodchild, fifth avenue, by messenger. charge account. he sent for fleming and told him he wished the public sentiment corps to tackle their first job. h. r. had prepared a dozen letters of protest which the artists must copy before receiving their day's wages--one copy for each paper. the letters expressed the writers' admiration, contempt, approval, abhorrence, indignation, and commendation of the journalistic treatment of the goodchild-rutgers affair. real names and real addresses were given. it beat pro bono publico, old subscriber, and decent citizen all to pieces. h. r. supplied various kinds of stationery--some with crests, others very humble. the chirography was different. that alone was art. the newspapers realized that h. r. had become news. the public wanted to read about him. the papers were the servants of the public. circulation was invented for that very purpose. not content with the services of the public sentiment corps, h. r. commanded andrew barrett to tip off the friendly reporters--andrew by this time was calling them by their first name--to watch the goodchild residence on fifth avenue and also the ketcham national bank on nassau street. thinking that this meant elopement up-town and shooting down-town, the reporters despatched the sob artists to fifth avenue and the veteran death-watch to the bank. they were rewarded. parading up and down the goodchild block on the avenue were six sandwich-men. they carried the swellest sandwiches in christendom. this was the first use of the famous iridescent glass mosaic sandwich in history. it was exquisitely beautiful. but the legends were even more beautiful: [illustration: i shall marry grace goodchild no matter who says no!] this last he stationed in front of the goodchild house. across the street, leaning against the central park wall, was morris lazarus, mr. onthemaker's able associate counsel. his pockets were bulging with numbered legal documents in anticipation of hostilities from christians, policemen, and other aliens. he had told the reporters that he was one of mr. rutgers's counsel and did not propose to allow the sandwich-men to be interfered with by anybody. he also distributed his card, that the name might not be misspelled. he had not yet changed morris into maurice. [illustration: no opposition can keep me from marrying grace goodchild] [illustration: see the newspapers for accounts of the marriage of grace goodchild to hendrik rutgers] [illustration: wedding of grace goodchild and hendrik rutgers for date watch this space] [illustration: all the world loves a lover. love grace goodchild and me too] [illustration: do you blame me for wishing to marry the most beautiful girl in the whole world? she lives here!] the sandwiches paraded up and down the avenue sidewalk, never once going off the block. as two of the artists passed each other they saluted--the sandwich union's sign a rigid forefinger drawn quickly across the throat with a decapitating sweep: lambs expecting execution in the world's vast abattoir. the answering sign was a quick mouthward motion of the rigid thumb to represent the assuaging of thirst at the close of day. thus did h. r. reward industry. before the sandwich-men had made the beat a dozen times all upper fifth avenue heard about it. a stream of limousines, preciously freighted, halted before the goodchild mansion and poured out into the sidewalk friends and acquaintances of the goodchilds. on the dowagers' faces you could see the smug self-congratulations that their daughters, thank goodness, did not have to be wooed thus vulgarly to get into the newspapers. and on the daughters the watching reporters saw smiles and envious gleams of bright eyes. why couldn't _they_ be thus desperately wooed in public? to let the world know you were desired, to have a man brave all the world in order to let the world know it! it was heroism! and even more: it was great fun! the dowagers went in to express both surprise and condolence to mrs. goodchild. the girls rushed to grace's boudoir to ask questions. mrs. goodchild tried to brazen it out. then she tried to treat it humorously. but the dowagers called both bluffs. then she foolishly told them, "the poor young man is quite insane." they chorused, "he must be!" with conviction--the conviction that she was lying like a suburban boomer. of course she paid him for the work. grace was in an unphilosophical frame of mind. h. r. had made her the laughing-stock of new york. it would have been ridiculous if it were not so serious to her social plans. she hated him! being absolutely helpless to help herself, her hatred embraced the world--the world that would laugh at her! all the world! particularly the women. especially those of her own age. they would laugh! this is the unforgivable sin in women because their sense of humor is _minus_. and when they laugh-- just then the avalanche of those she hated the most swooped down upon her. her eyes were red from acute aqueous mortification. they saw it. they said in chorus, sorrowfully, "you poor thing!" who said the rich had no hearts? the girls had given to her poverty without her asking for it. it always makes people charitable when they create poverty unasked. "i wouldn't stand it!" cried one. "nor i!" chorused fourteen of grace's best friends. outside, the avenue, for the first time in its dazzling history, was blocked by automobiles. you would have sworn it was the shopping district in the christmas week. the reason was that the occupants of the autos had told the chauffeurs to stop until they could read the sandwiches. the reporters were ringing the front-door bell and the rapid-fire tintinnabulation was driving frederick frantic. mrs. goodchild had told him not to send for the police. the reporters, feeling treated like rank outsiders, were in no pleasant frame of mind. up-stairs grace, hiding her wrath, overwhelmed by the accursed sympathy of her best friends, said, helplessly, "what can i do?" she didn't like to tell them she wished to bury them with her own hands. from fifteen youthful throats burst forth the same golden word--"_elope!_" she gasped and stared blankly. "it's the greatest thing i ever heard. i don't know him, but if he is half-way presentable you can teach him table manners in a week. i'd make my father give him a job in the bank!" asserted marion beekman. "me, too!" declared ethel vandergilt. "he's just splendid," volunteered a brunette, enthusiastically. "and did you see the papers!" shrieked verona mortimer. "i say, _did_ you see the papers? _and_ the pictures! girls, she's a regular devil, and we never knew it! where did you hide your brains all these years, gracie, dear?" "i never would have thought it possible," said the cold, philosophical katherine van schaick. "i call it mighty well engineered. did _you_ tell him to do it, grace? if so you are a genius!" "what does he look like?" "is he of the old new jersey rutgers?" "if he's good-looking and has money, what's wrong with him? booze?" asked a practical one. "he isn't married, is he?" asked a doll-face with reno in her heavenly eyes. at this a hush fell on the group. it was the big moment. "how exciting!" murmured one. "is he married, grace?" fifteen pairs of eyes pasted themselves on gracie's. she barely caught herself on the verge of confessing ignorance. she was dazed by the new aspect of her own love-affair. these girls envied her! "no!" she said, recklessly. "it's her father," prompted a slim young sherlock holmes. "no; mrs. goodchild!" corrected a greater genius. "maybe it's grace herself," suggested the envious milly walton. "how can i stop it?" asked grace, angrily. "_what?_" shrieked all. "why, girls," said miss van schaick, "she isn't responsible for it, after all!" before the disappointment could spoil their pleasure one of them said, impatiently, "oh, let's look at 'em!" they rushed to the window. "let's go downstairs. we can see 'em better!" and grace's friends thereupon rushed away. one of them was considerate enough to say, "come on, grace!" and grace followed, not quite grasping the change in the situation. her fears were not so keen; her doubts keener. they nearly overturned their respective mammas in their rush to get to the windows. "grace," said miss van schaick, who had never before called her anything but "miss--er--goodchild," "send out and tell them to stop and face this way. i don't think i read all the sandwiches." "yes! yes!" "oh, do!" "please, grace, tell 'em!" it sounded like election, when women shall vote. much more melodious than to-day. the dowagers were made speechless. they had acquired that habit before their daughters. grace capitulated to the incense. "frederick, go out and tell them to stop and face this way," commanded grace, with a benignant smile. "my de--" began mrs. goodchild, mildly. "i have lived," said miss van schaick in her high-bred, level voice that people admiringly called insulting, "to see a new york society man do something really original. i must ask beekman rutgers why his branch of the family did not inherit brains with the real estate." mrs. goodchild gasped--and began to look resigned. from there to pride the jump would be slight. but hers was not a mind that readjusted itself very quickly. "oh, look!" and the girls began to read the legends aloud. the dowagers rose, prompted by the same horrid fear. chauffeurs were bad enough. but sandwich-men! the world moves rapidly these days. one week ago these mothers did not know sandwich-men even existed. a new peril springs up every day. they decided, being wise, not to scold their daughters. the girls shook hands with grace with such warmth that she felt as if each had left a hateful wedding-gift in her palm. mrs. goodchild went up-stairs weeping or very close to it. she could not see whither it all would lead, and she was the kind that must plan everything in advance to be comfortable. by always using a memorandum calendar she cleverly managed to have something to look forward to in this life. grace remained. she was thinking. when she thought she always tapped on the floor with her right foot, rhythmically. she realized that h. r.'s courtship of her had changed in aspect. she knew that girls in her set thought everything was a lark. but they themselves did not visit those who had larked beyond a certain point. an ecstatic "what fun!" soon changed to a frigid "how perfectly silly!" it was not so difficult to treat the sandwich episode humorously now, or even to take intelligent advantage of the publicity. she knew that, with the negligible exception of a few old fogies, the crass vulgarity of h. r.'s public performances would not harm her unless her father took it seriously enough to appeal to the law about it, when the same old fogies would say she should have ignored it. but she could not clearly see the end of it--that is, an ending that would redound to her glory. this man was a puzzle, a paradox, an exasperation. he was too unusual, too adventurous, too clever, too dangerous; he had too much to gain and nothing to lose. how should she treat him? he did not classify easily. he was masterful. he loved her. masterful men in love have a habit of making themselves disagreeable. in how many ways would this masterful man, who was resourceful, original, undeterred by conventions, indifferent to the niceties of life, unafraid of public opinion as of social ostracism, make himself disagreeable? was he serious in his determination to marry her? or was it merely a scheme to obtain notoriety? was he a crank or a criminal? she couldn't marry him. what would he do? what wouldn't he do? how long would he keep it up? must she flee to europe? her foot was tap-tapping away furiously. she ceased to think in order to hate him! then because she hated him she feared him. then because she feared him she respected him. then because she respected him she didn't hate him. then because she didn't hate she began to think of him. but all she knew about him was that he said he loved her and everybody in new york knew it! who was he? what was he? should she start an inquiry? and yet-- "i beg pardon, miss. but the men--" frederick paused. "yes?" "they are standing." he meant the sandwiches. "well?" "they are," he reminded her, desperately but proudly, "mr. rutgers's men." "tell them to go away," she said. he stared a moment, for as the consort of the owner of the men she had feudal obligations to fulfil. he remembered that this was america. "very good, miss," he said. she went up-stairs. she wished to think. it would probably make her head ache. she therefore told her maid to wake her at six and, taking up one of edwin lefevre's books, she went to sleep. xii on nassau street twenty sandwich-men were parading, ten on each side of the street, in the block where the ketcham national bank stood. each sandwich bore this legend: [illustration: ask the president of the ketcham national bank why? he won't let me marry his daughter. ask him!] besides , men and women, reporters read the sandwiches. the men looked pleased; they were seeing a show on d. h. tickets. the women sighed enviously and opened their latest robert w. chambers in the street as they walked on. the thirteen reporters walked into the bank, went straight into the president's office, and while he was still smiling his welcome asked him why he would not let h. r. marry grace. mr. goodchild nearly sat in the electric chair. the vice-president fortunately was able to grasp in time the hand that held the big paper-weight. "remember the bank!" solemnly counseled the vice-president. "to hell with the bank!" said mr. george g. goodchild for the first and only time in his republican life. "unless you talk to us fully and politely," said the _globe_ man, "we propose to interview your directors and ask each and every one of them to tell us the name of your successor. if you raise your hand again i'll not only break in your face, but i'll sue you and thus secure vacation money and a raise in salary. the jury is with me. come! tell us why you won't let mr. rutgers marry grace." here in his own office the president of a big wall street bank was threatened with obliterated features and the extraction of cash. the cause of it, h. r., was worse than a combination of socialism and smallpox; he was even worse than a president of the united states in an artificial bull market. mr. goodchild walked up and down the room exactly thirteen times--one for each reporter--and then turned to the vice-president. "send for the police!" he commanded. "remember the newspapers," agonizedly whispered the vice-president. the _globe_ man overheard him. "present!" he said, and saluted. then he took out a lead-pencil, seized a pad from the president's own desk, and said, kindly, "i'll take down all your reasons in shorthand, mr. goodchild!" "take yourself to hell!" shrieked the president. "_après vous, mon cher alphonse_," retorted the _globe_ man, with exquisite courtesy. "boys, you heard him. verbatim!" all the reporters wrote four words. the _globe_ man hastily left the president's room and went up to the bank's gray-coated private policeman who was trying to distinguish between the few who wished to deposit money and the many who desired to ask the sandwich question or at least hoped to hear the answer. the sacred precincts of the ketcham national bank had taken on the aspect of a circus arena. h. r.'s erstwhile fellow-clerks looked the only way they dared--terrified! they would have given a great deal to have been able to act as human beings. "the reporters are in the president's room!" ran the whisper among the clerks. from there it reached the curious mob within the bank. from there it spread to the congested proletariate without the doors. said proletariate began to grow. baseball bulletin-boards were not displayed, but the public was going to get something for nothing. hence, free country. the _globe_ man heard one of the bank's messengers call the policeman "jim." being a contemporary historian, he addressed the policeman amicably. "jim, mr. goodchild says to bring in senator lowry and party." with that he beckoned to the _globe_'s militant photographers and five colleagues and preceded them into the president's private office. "quick work, tommy," warned the reporter. "flash?" laconically inquired "senator lowry." he was such a famous portraitist that his sitters never gave him time to talk. hence his habit of speaking while he could. he prepared his flash-powder. "yep!" and the reporter nodded. the others also unlimbered their cameras. the _globe_ man threw open the door. the president was angrily haranguing the reporters. "mr. goodchild," said the _globe_ man, "look pleasant!" mr. goodchild turned quickly and opened his mouth. _bang!_ went, the flash-powder. "hel--" shrieked mr. goodchild. "--p!" said the pious young _journal_ man, with an air of completing the presidential speech. a good editor is worth his weight in pearls. the photographers' corps retreated in good order and record time. "for the third and last time will you tell us why you won't let your daughter marry mr. rutgers!" asked the _globe_. "no." "then will you tell us why you won't let mr. rutgers marry your daughter?" mr. goodchild was conservative to the last. too many people who needed money had talked to him in the borrower's tone of voice. he could not grasp the new era. he said, "you infernal blackmailer--" "sir," cut in the _globe_ man, with dignity, "you are positively insulting! be nice to the other reporters. i thank you for the interview!" he bowed and left the office, followed by all the others except the _evening post_ man, who, unfortunately, had never been able to rid himself of the desire to get the facts. it was partly his editor, but mostly the absence of a sense of humor. "i think, mr. goodchild, that you'd better give me an official statement. i'll give the associated press man a copy, and that will go to all the papers." "but i don't want to say anything," protested mr. goodchild, who always read the _post_'s money page. "the other reporters will say it for you. i think you'd better." "he's right, mr. goodchild," said the vice-president. "but what the dickens can i say?" queried mr. goodchild, helplessly, not daring to look out of the window for fear of seeing the sandwiches. "if i were you," earnestly advised the _post_ man, "i'd tell the truth." "what do you mean?" "say why you won't let your daughter--" "it's preposterous!" "say it; but also say why it is preposterous." two directors of the bank came in. they were high in high finance. in fact, they _were_ high finance. they therefore knew only the newspapers of an older generation, as they had proven by their testimony before a congressional committee. the older director looked at mr. goodchild and began: "goodchild, will you tell me why--" "you, too?" interrupted mr. goodchild, reproachfully but respectfully. "first the reporters and now--" the directors gasped. "you didn't--actually--talk--for--_publication_?" they stared at him incredulously. "no. but i'm thinking of giving out a carefully prepared statement--" the higher of the high financiers, with the masterfulness that made him richer every panic, assumed supreme command. he turned to the _post_ man and said: "i'm surprised to see you here. your paper used to be decent. mr. goodchild has nothing to say." "but--" protested the anguished father of grace goodchild. "you haven't!" declared $ , , . "i have nothing to say!" meekly echoed one-tenth of one hundred. the _post_ man walked out with a distinctly editorial stride. he began to envy the yellows and their vulgar editors, as all _post_ men must at times. mr. goodchild's efforts to suppress the publication of his family affairs were in vain. he unfortunately sought to argue over the telephone with the owners. the owners spoke to the editors. "it's _news_!" the editors pointed out. "it's _news_," the owners regretfully explained to the bank president. "but it's a crime against decency," said mr. goodchild. "you are right. it's a damned shame. but it's _news_!" said the owners, and hung up. mr. goodchild summoned his lawyer. the lawyer looked grave. he recognized the uselessness of trying to stop the newspapers, and realized that there would be no fat fees, even if he were otherwise successful. he tried to frighten h. r., but was referred to max onthemaker, esquire. max onthemaker, esquire, was in heaven. he finally had butted into polite society! from the bowery to wall street! at last he was opposed by the very best. a lawyer is known by his opponents! mr. lindsay protested with quite unprofessional heat. it was an outrage. "_amare et sapere vix deo conceditur_," mr. onthemaker solemnly reminded the leader of the corporation bar. "also, dear mr. lindsay, i am ready to accept service of any paper you may see fit to honor us with. my client means to fight to the bitter end." "yes, in the newspapers!" bitterly said the eminent mr. lindsay through his clenched teeth. "and with sandwiches! when we ask for bread you give us a stone. but we give you a sandwich. there's no ground for criminal action in view of the public's frame of mind toward the money power. but if you will sue us for one million dollars damages i'll name my forthcoming baby after you." mr. lindsay hung up with violence, mistaking the telephone-holder for mr. onthemaker's cranium. xiii the reporters of the conservative journals sought h. r. later in the day--simply because the reporters for the live newspapers did. the system was to blame. a daily paper may eschew vulgarity, but it must not be beaten. by using better grammar and no adjectives they intelligently show they are never sensational. the newspaper-men confronted h. r. eagerly. it was the day's big story. they asked him about it. he said to them, very simply, "i love her!" they wrote it down. he waited until they had finished. then he went on: "she is the most beautiful girl in the world--to me. don't forget that--_to me_!" those two words would prevent two million sneers from the other most beautiful girls in the world who at that moment happened to reside in new york. indeed, all his words would be read aloud to young men by said two million coral lips. perfect cupid's bows. she was beautiful--_to him_! "her parents oppose my suit," went on h. r., calmly. "is this a free country," interjected max onthemaker, vehemently, "or are we in russia? has wall street established morganatic marriages in this republic, or--" h. r. held up a quieting hand. max onthemaker smiled at the rebuke. two reporters had taken down his remarks. "i have told her parents that i propose to marry miss goodchild--peacefully. get that straight, please. peacefully! i am a law-abiding citizen. she is very beautiful. but i am willing to wait--a few weeks." "yes. but the sandwiches," began a reporter who entertained hopes of becoming a public utility corporation's publicity man. h. r. stopped him with an impressive frown. he cleared his throat. the reporters felt it coming. "what i have done--" he began. "yes! yes!" "--is merely the employment for the first time in history of _psychological sabotage_!" the reporters, now having the head-line, rushed off. all except one, who whispered to h. r.'s counsel: "what in blazes _is_ sabotage? how do you spell it?" "quit your joking," answered max. "you know very well what it is. isn't he a wonder? psychological sabotage!" the newspapers gave it space in proportion to the extent of their wall street affiliations. the _evening post_, having none, came out with an editorial on "psychological sabotage." it held up h. r. as a product of the times, made inevitable by t. roosevelt. the _world_ editorialized on "the wall street spirit _versus_ love"; the _times_ wrote about "the ethics of modern courtship"; and the _sun_ about "the decay of manners under the present administration and its mexican policy." the _american_'s editorial was "intelligent eugenics and unintelligent wealth." but all of them quoted "psychological sabotage." this made the socialist papers espouse the cause of h. r. the _globe_, however, beat them all. it offered to supply to the young couple, free of charge, a complete kitchen-set and the services of a knot-tier. it printed the names and addresses of sixteen clergymen, two rabbis, three aldermen, and the mayor of the city of new york. the public sentiment corps copied two hundred and thirty-eight letters prepared by the boss, praising and condemning h. r. and mr. goodchild. this compelled the newspapers that received the letters to run grace's portrait daily--a new photograph each time. as for grace herself, crowds followed her. she could not go into a restaurant without making all heads turn in her direction. people even stopped dancing when they saw her. and six of new york's bluest-blooded heiresses became her inseparable companions. they also had their pictures printed. grace hated all this notoriety. she said so, at times. but her friends soothed her and developed the habit of looking pleasantly at cameras. h. r. on the third day sent all the clippings to grace with beautiful flowers and a note: _for your sake!_ one of grace's friends asked to be allowed to keep the note. it reminded her, she said, of the early christians; also of the days of knighthood. the commercial phase of the mission of the society of american sandwich artists had become in the meanwhile a matter of real importance to the business world. business men, not being artists, are stupid because they deal with money-profits, and they are imitative because money-making in the ultimate analysis is never original. when the merchants of new york perceived that fifth avenue had sanctified sandwiching by paying cash for it, and that the better shops elsewhere had perforce resorted to it, they accepted it as one of the conditions of modern merchandising. it did not become a fad, but worse--an imagined necessity and, as such, an institution. the little valiquet-made statuettes of the ultimate sandwich sold by the thousands, greatly adding to the personal assets of the secretary and treasurer of the society. and what new york did, other cities wished to do. then the blow fell! on the same day that h. r. sent his early christian message to grace, andrew barrett reported that while some of the streets were almost impassable for the multitude of sandwiches, the greater part of the latter, alas! were _non-union men_! "they are using their porters and janitors to carry boards," said andrew barrett, bitterly. "i tell you, h. r., this is a crisis!" h. r., thinking of grace, nodded absently and said, "send for onthemaker." max came on the run. nearly three days had elapsed without a front-page paragraph for him. barrett told him about the crisis. their idea had been stolen and utilized by unscrupulous merchants who were sandwiching without permission and using scabs. "i get you," said max onthemaker. then he turned to the chief and told him: "h. r., you've got to do something to make george g. goodchild sue you for a million dollars." he had drawn and kept ready for use sixty-three varieties of restraining orders, writs, etc. "what's that got to do with our--" began andrew barrett, impatiently. "certainly!" cut in mr. onthemaker. "we must fight capital with its own weapon. the money power is great on injunctions. i wish to say that when it comes to injunctions i've got wall street gasping for breath and--" "yes, but what about the scabs? can't you stop 'em?" persisted barrett. the future of the barrett itinerant advertising agency was at stake. "sure! we can hire strong-arm--" "no!" said h. r., decisively. andrew barrett, who had begun to look hopeful, frowned at his leader's negative, and said, desperately, "something has got to be done!" when human beings say "something" in that tone of voice they mean dynamite by proxy. "certainly!" agreed h. r., absently, his mind still on grace. andrew barrett stifled a groan. he whispered to max, "it's the girl!" max looked alarmed, then hopeful. grace was almost as much news as h. r. himself. andrew barrett turned to h. r., and said, reproachfully: "here we've made sandwiching what it is, and these infernal tightwads--" "that's the word, barrett," cut in h. r. "go to it, my son!" "how do you mean?" asked barrett. "advertise in all the papers, morning and evening." young mr. barrett stared at him, then he shook his head, tapped it with his knuckles, and confessed: "solid!" "_give me a pencil!_" said h. r. it sounded like "fix bayonets!" "nothing," mr. onthemaker permitted himself to observe, judicially, "is so conducive to front-page publicity as intelligent violence. this is not a strike, but a cause. look at the militants--" "there is something in that," admitted a. barrett. "there is something," said h. r., gently, "in everything, even in max's cranium. but, this is not a matter of principle, but of making money." "but if you first establish--" "no," interrupted h. r. "if you make money, the principle establishes itself. the situation does not call for a flash of inspiration, but for common sense. listen carefully: nothing is so timid as capital!" he looked at them as if further talk were redundant, superfluous, unnecessary, a waste of time, and an insult. "well?" said barrett, forgetting himself and speaking impatiently. "utilize it. treat it as you would a problem in mathematics. you start with an axiom. build on it. capital is timid. therefore, people who have money never do anything original; that is to say, venturesome; that is to say, courageous. all new enterprises are begun and carried through by people who have no money of their own to lose. i, single-handed, could defeat an army commanded by alexander, cæsar, napoleon, and u. s. grant, if i could put into the pockets of each of the enemy's private soldiers six dollars in cash. no man likes to be killed with money in his clothes. money is fear! fear is unreasoning. i am opposed to injecting fear into the situation. no, sir; instead, we must capitalize another human force. have this printed. big blank margin. all the papers." he gave them what he had written: to the public we are union men but we are for peace. we do not hate scabs: we pity them! we do _not_ pity tightwads who make scabs possible. we made sandwiching an art, also an honorable occupation. we feed our hungry men out of our hunger fund. those who work support those who can't, until they in turn find work. we ask for living wages, but also for the respect of the public. our emblem is the sign of the ultimate sandwich. every time you see a sandwich-board without it you may be sure it belongs to a merchant who skimps his advertising appropriation. if he skimps in that, what won't he skimp in? how about the _quality_ of his goods and his _values_? we advertise the high-class trade, honest advertisers who skimp in nothing to please the public. no merchant can misrepresent his goods through us. we do not advertise frauds nor misers. we could frighten off the poor men whose hunger makes scabs of them. we would have the approval of the labor organizations and of the thinking public. _but we are for the law!_ they can join our union if they wish. there is no initiation fee. there is no compulsion to join. they are american citizens! _so are we!_ the tightwad merchant may not be dishonest. but-- the public must judge--calmly. look for the ultimate sandwich in all signs! american society of sandwich artists. h. r., _sec._ we never solicit subscriptions! andrew barrett read it. his jaw dropped and he stared at h. r. then he declared with conviction: "next to the gettysburg address, this! we--nev-er--so-li-cit--sub-scrip-tions! where does it all come from?" h. r. solemnly pointed to the ceiling of his office, meaning thereby, like most americans, heaven. max onthemaker looked at him dubiously, the deity being extra-judicial. then he shook his head uncertainly. history had told of peter the hermit, mohammed, and others. it was a familiar hypothesis. the public, when it read in the newspapers that these poor men did not believe in killing scabs, but hated tightwads and never asked for subscriptions, unmistakably and unreservedly espoused their cause. the man who skimped was the common foe of the free citizen. they wrote letters to the newspapers. so did the public sentiment corps. to hate tightwads and never to ask for subscriptions were admirable american traits. christian merchants and even heretics in trade called them virtues! big business took the trouble to tell the reporters that this was the kind of labor organization everybody could approve of. it was a check to socialism. big business believes in some kinds of checks. the labor organizations could not condemn a union. they said they also were for peace and against the wretches who capitalized the hunger of their fellows. in twenty-four hours the scab-users surrendered! more clippings for grace. the society of american sandwich artists prudently leased three more offices and prepared for the rush. it came. orders poured in from scores of merchants. the premises were so crowded with men both with and without sandwich-boards that the other tenants complained. the agent of the allied arts building requested h. r. to vacate. he requested it three times an hour, from nine to six. "the other tenants object to your sandwiches," the agent explained to h. r. "let 'em move out. we'll take the whole building--at a fair concession. "move out yourself!" shrieked the agent. "see our lawyer," said h. r., and turned his back on the agent. the agent called on mr. onthemaker. "fifty thousand dollars!" said max. the agent fled, holding his watch in place. in the mean time the treasury of the society was growing apace. h. r. transferred his account. he now deposited the funds with the national bank of the avenue. the president, mr. wyman, told mr. goodchild about it. mr. goodchild, who had turned red as h. r.'s name was mentioned by a highly esteemed colleague, looked thoughtful--he might have had the account. xiv in the very hour of his great success h. r. suddenly was thus confronted by the greatest menace to a political career--wealth! in one morning's mail he received three hundred and eighty-four offers to become the advertising napoleon of national concerns; no limit to the advertising appropriations. he added up the aggregate offers of salary and maximum commissions. his income, if he accepted all the offers, would amount to $ , per annum. so great is the danger and so widely recognized is it that nobody is worthy of respect until he is threatened by wealth with wealth. should h. r. accept greatness to-day and let to-morrow bring the littleness? he did not reply to his correspondents. he thus went up in their estimation. to refuse to take money is something. to refuse even to refuse it is everything! he prepared a memorandum containing all the offers he had received, with the sum total of same, and sent the originals of the letters and telegrams to mr. goodchild. his only comment, in careless lead-pencil, was what it should be: "_not enough!_" he knew mr. goodchild would speak about it. how could mr. goodchild help it? didn't $ , begin with a $? but h. r. did not think of what he had not done, not even of what he had done, but of what he would do. doers of deeds always think that way. to them yesterday is as dead as cæsar. to-day is settled. to-morrow alone is greater opportunity! he therefore thought of himself. that made him think of grace. he had no illusions about himself, but, what was far more intelligent, he had none about anybody else. he was aware that already the world was divided in their opinion of him. to some he was a humbug, to others a crank; to some a genius, to a few a dangerous demagogue. people respect what they fear. fear always puts humanity in the attitude of a rat in a corner. that is why people with a passion for making money naturally think of corners. to make millions of men follow is to make millions of dollars shake. but his was an infinitely more difficult problem. how to become the fear of the rich and at the same time be respected by the best element? he had no precedents by which to guide his steps, no example that he might modernize and follow. he reduced the problem to its simplest form? to bring this about he would preach brotherhood. to stop the mouths that thereupon would call him socialist he would cover his effort. then, in the chemical reactions of his mind, something flashed! he would do something to attract the best element. that would bring in the mob. what begins by being fashionable always ends by being popular. nobody had ever thought of making goodness a fad. hence, poverty, and therefore wealth! he would take the first step that night. about p.m. an excited feminine voice, without the slightest trace of yiddish--indeed, more fashionable than a fifth avenue voice ever dared to be--called up, one after another, the city editors of the best papers and asked: "is it true that grace goodchild has eloped with hendrik rutgers?" "we had not heard that--" "it is not true! _it is not true!_" shrieked the voice in the highest pitch of dismay and rang on. having been told that it was not true, the city editors, after vainly trying to get the speaker again, honorably called up the goodchild residence. nobody home! that was enough corroboration for any intelligent man, but the city editors despatched their most reliable reporters to the former residence of the bride. being prudent men, the editors prepared the photographs, and the head-line was all a matter of final punctuation: miss goodchild elopes it remained for the make-up man to put a "!" or a "?" after "elopes." the reporters could not get to either mr. or mrs. goodchild or to h. r. or grace. the papers therefore did not say that the young people, whose courtship was a fifth avenue romance, had eloped. that might not be true. but they printed grace's photographs and h. r.'s and reviewed h. r.'s meteoric career and called the rumor a rumor. that was common sense. also, all the newspapers spoke about the montagues and the capulets. at about . a.m. the reporters returned with expurgated versions of mr. goodchild's denial. but the pages were cast. the late city editions honorably printed: mr. goodchild, when seen early this morning, denied the rumor. it was thus, at one stroke, that the nuptials of grace goodchild and h. r. were definitely placed among the probabilities. the average new-yorker now knew it was only a matter of days. xv h. r. dressed to resemble an undertaker, but wearing a beautiful orchid to show he did not do it for a living, called a taxicab, drove to the diocesan house and sent in his card to the bishop of new york. the bishop was a judge of cards. he therefore received h. r. in his study instead of the general waiting-room of which the decorative scheme consisted of "in his name" in old english and therefore safe from perusal. it might as well have been, "be brief!" "how do you do, bishop phillipson?" and h. r. held out his hand with such an air of affectionate respect that the bishop was sure he had confirmed this distinguished-looking young man. but the head of the diocese has to know more than theology. therefore the bishop answered, very politely: "i am very well, thank you." "did you recognize the name?" modestly asked h. r. "oh yes," said the bishop, who recently had read about some meeting in rutgers square and therefore remembered rutgers. he was a fine figure of a man with clean-cut features and a look of kindliness so subtly professional as to keep it from being indiscriminatingly benevolent; a good-natured man rather than a strong. one might imagine that he made friends easily, but none could visualize him as a crusader. he was cursed with an orator's voice, sensitive ears, and the love of words. "perhaps you've read the newspapers? they've been full of me and my doings these many weeks," said h. r., looking intently at the bishop. "my dear boy!" expostulated dr. phillipson. "i need your help!" said h. r., very earnestly. the bishop knew it! those to whom you cannot give cheering words and fifty cents are the worst cases. to relieve physical suffering is far easier than to straighten out those tangles that society calls disreputable--after they get into print. h. r. went on, "i want you to help me to help our church." "help you to help our church?" blankly repeated the bishop. the unexpected always reduces the expectant kind to a mere echo. "exactly!" and h. r. nodded congratulatorily. "exactly! in order that we may stop losing ground!" there were so many ways in which this young man's words might be taken that his mission remained an exasperating mystery. but the bishop smiled with the tolerance of undyspeptic age toward over-enthusiastic youth and said kindly: "pardon me, but--" "pardon _me_," interrupted h. r., "but since it is only the roman catholics who are growing--" "our figures--" interjected the bishop, firmly. "ah yes, figures of speech. don't apply to _our_ church. the reason is that the catholics leave out the possessive pronoun. they never say _their_ church any more than they say _their_ god. now, why did we build our huge cathedral?" the bishop stared at h. r. in astonishment. then he answered, austerely, confining himself to the last question: "in order to glorify--" "excuse me. there already existed the himalayas. the real object of building cathedrals hollow, i take it, is to fill 'em with the flesh of _living_ people. otherwise we would have made sarcophagi. we protestants don't bequeath our faith to our posterity; only our pews. they are to-day empty. hence my business. i, bishop phillipson, am a people-getter." "you are what?" the bishop did not frown; his amazement was too abysmal. "i fill churches. since this is really a family affair, let us be frank. of course, you could fill 'em with paper--" "paper?" "theatrical argot for deadheads, bishop; people who don't pay, but contribute criticisms of the show. i am here to tell you how to go about the job efficiently." h. r.'s manner was so earnest, it so obviously reflected his desire to help, that the bishop could not take offense at the young man's intentions. the words, however, were so much more than offensive that the bishop said, with cold formality: "you express yourself in such a way--" "i'll tell you the reason. deeds never convert until they are _talked_ about. dynamic words are needed. ask any business man. i have made a specialty of them. i may add that i am not interested in making money, only in efficiency!" the bishop saw plainly that this well-dressed young man with the keen eyes and the resolute chin was neither a lunatic nor an impostor. therefore the bishop instantly realized that the young man could not help the church and equally that the church could not help the young man. further talk was a waste of time. "i fear this discussion is fruitless--" "i wasn't discussing; i was asserting. i am the man who is going to marry grace goodchild--" the bishop straightened in his chair and looked at h. r. with a new and more personal interest. "indeed!" he said, so humanly that it sounded like "do tell!" grace was one of his flock. he remembered now that his friends the goodchilds had been in print lately and that editorials had been written about the young man who proposed to marry the only daughter. "i promised grace that i would help our church--" to the bishop these words, which the young man had used before, now had a different meaning. it was no longer an utter stranger, but an eccentric acquaintance; a character, as characterless people call them. "yes?" and the bishop listened attentively. "i've doped it out--" pursued h. r., earnestly. "i beg your pardon?" said the bishop and blushed. "i have arrived at a logical conclusion," translated h. r. "in short, i have found what will put episcopalians, presbyterians, methodists, lutherans, jews, parsees, and native-born americans on the christian map of new york. and it will not necessitate turning the unoccupied churches into restaurants or vaudeville shows." h. r. turned his hypnotic look full on the bishop, who read therein the desire to do. "thus must have looked hildebrand!" thought the bishop, in roman capitals, in spite of himself. on second thought he remembered to characterize the language of grace goodchild's fiancé as "bizarre." experience teaches that it is wisdom to encourage good intentions. this is done by listening. since the bishop was now obviously glad to listen, h. r. said, more earnestly than ever: "tell me, bishop, what is it that is desirable to possess and more desirable to give, elevating, rare beyond words, thrice blessed, and beautiful as heaven itself?" "truth!" exclaimed the bishop, his voice ringing with conviction and the pride of puzzle-solving. being a human being, he had answered promptly. h. r. shook his head and smiled forgivingly: "that's only theology; possibly metaphysics. forget rhetoric and get down to cases. _truth!_ pshaw! can you imagine that combination of four consonants and one vowel serving as a political platform or included in any live concern's instructions to salesmen? never! no, sir. guess again! i've found it. rare, picturesque, with great dramatic possibilities and easy to capitalize. it is--" he paused and looked at the bishop. the bishop returned the look fascinatedly. this young man was from another world. what would he say next? and what would whatever he said mean? "_charity!_" exclaimed h. r., proudly. the bishop's face fell. you almost heard it. h. r. shook a rigid forefinger at the bishop's nose and said, in a distinctly vindictive voice: "_'but the greatest of these is charity'_!" "we always preach--" began the bishop, defensively. "that's the trouble. _don't!_ we'll tackle charity by easy steps. we'll begin by the very lowest form, in order to break in american christians gradually. feeding the hungry is spectacular and leads to the higher forms. show people that you will not only fill their bellies, but send the caterer's bills direct to the lord for payment, and the populace will supply not only the food-receptacles, but the stationery. a great deal," finished h. r., reflectively, "depends upon the right stationery." "i fear," said the bishop, uncomfortably, "that we are talking to each other across an impassable gulf." "not a bit, bishop. the human intellect, properly directed, can bridge any chasm. let us be philosophical." h. r. said this as one who proposes to speak in words of one syllable. "now, good people--i don't mean _you_, bishop; you know: _good_ people!--always do everything wrong end foremost. now, what do you, speaking collectively, do to feed the hungry?" "we support st. george's kitchens--" "ah yes, you astutely work to eliminate poverty by tackling the poor, instead of operating on the rich. you give tickets to the hungry! think of it--_to the hungry_! tickets! a green one means a bowl of pea soup; a pink one, a slice of ham; a brown one, a codfish ball. the polychromatics of systematized charity whereby you discourage the increase of a professional pauper class! tickets! to the hungry! ouch!" the bishop more than once had despaired of solving that very problem. he shook his head sadly rather than rebukingly and said, "i have no doubt that you are a very remarkable young man and very up to date and very hopeful, but in a huge city like new york how can any one solve the problem of helping everybody who really needs--" "by using brains, bishop phillipson," cut in h. r., so sternly that the bishop flushed. but before his anger could crystallize, h. r. continued, challengingly: "who in new york are in need of charity? five thousand empty bellies? no. five million empty souls!" it was a striking figure of speech. before the bishop could say anything h. r. went on, very politely: "will you oblige me by torturing the ears?" "torturing the ears?" echoed the bishop in a daze. "yes; by listening. do you hear"--h. r. pointed to a corner of the room--"do you hear a voice from heaven saying, 'let them that hunger bring a physician's certificate of protracted inanition? you don't? then there's hope. what i propose to do, bishop, is to revolutionize the industry." h. r. spoke so determinedly that the bishop could not help forgetting everything else and asking: "how?" "by giving the ticket to the full belly; not to the empty. we utilize the machinery already in existence, but the ticket goes to the man who pays twenty-five cents, not to the man who needs or accepts the quarter's worth of food. there are people who would compel a fellow-man made by god after his image to convert himself into a first-trip-to-europe dress-suit case and paste labels all over himself: _pauper! hungry! wreck!_ my tickets will be precious tags marked: _charitable! decent! christian!_ i accomplish this by giving to the giver! success is a matter of labels." "but i can't see--" "my dear bishop, everybody acknowledges that it is much nicer to give to those you love than to receive. that is why we are exhorted to love our fellows--that we may love to give to them. it follows that everybody at heart likes to be charitable. vanity was invented pretty early in history. but it has not been properly capitalized by the churches. now, listen to the difference when real brains are used. remember that though all is vanity, vanity is not all. each person who gives twenty-five cents receives a ticket. since he lives in america, he gets something for something! i have planned a mammoth hunger feast in madison square garden. each donor from his seat will see with his own eyes a fellow-man eat his quarter." "but, my dear mr. rutgers--" "i am glad you see it as i do. the ticket-buyer goes to the garden. he knows his ticket is feeding one man. but he sees ten thousand men eating. he looks for the particular beneficiary of his particular quarter. it might be any one of the ten thousand eaters! within thirty-seven seconds each donor will feel that his twenty-five cents is feeding the entire ten thousand! did a quarter of a dollar ever before accomplish so much? of anybody else," finished h. r., modestly, "i would call that genius!" the bishop shook his head violently. "do you mean to treat it as a spectacle--" "what else was the crucifixion to the priests of the temple?" asked h. r., sternly. the bishop waved away with his hand and said, decidedly: "no! no! would you compel starving men--" "to eat?" cut in h. r. "no; to parade their needs, to vulgarize charity and make it offensive, a stench in the nostrils of self-respecting--" "hold on! charity, reverend sir, is never offensive. the attitude of imperfectly christianized fellow-citizens makes it a disgrace to show charity, but not to display poverty. the english-speaking races, being eminently practical, lay great stress upon table manners. they treat charity as if it were a natural function of man, and therefore to be done secretly and in solitude. our cultured compatriots invariably confound modesty with the sense of smell. etiquette is responsible for infinitely greater evils than vulgarity. feed the hungry. when you do that you obey god. feed them _all_!" "but--" "that is exactly what i propose to do--with your help: feed all the starving men in new york. has anybody ever before tried that? _all the starving men!_" he finished, sternly, "not one shall escape us!" the bishop almost shuddered, there was so grimly determined a look on h. r.'s face. then as his thoughts began to travel along their usual channel he felt vexed. he had patiently endured the disrespectful language of a young man whose point of view differed so irritatingly from that of the earnest men who were laboring to solve the problem. all he had heard was confusing talk, words he could not remember, but left a sting. time had been spent to no purpose. "i still," said the bishop with an effort, "do not see how you solve the problem that has baffled our best minds." "nobody else could do it," acknowledged h. r., simply. "but i have carefully prepared my plans. they cannot fail. and now you will give me your signature." "my signature to what?" asked the bishop in the tone of voice in which people usually say, "never!" he felt that the interview was ended. a suspicion flashed in his mind that this young man might reply, "to a check!" but he paid h. r. the compliment of instantly dismissing the suspicion. this was, alas! no common impostor. "to an appeal to new york's better nature," said h. r., enthusiastically. "the masses always follow the classes; if they didn't there wouldn't be classes. mr. wyman, of the national bank of the avenue, will act as treasurer." it was the fashionable bank. stock in demand at seventy-two hundred dollars a share, and all held by vans. "has he--" "he will," interrupted h. r. so decisively that the bishop forgot to be annoyed at not being allowed to finish his question. "we shall appeal to all new-yorkers. your name must therefore lead the signatures. much, bishop phillipson, depends upon the leader! of course there will be other clergymen, and leading merchants, and capitalists, and the mayor, and the borough presidents, and the reform leaders, and everybody who is somebody. they must give the example. do you not constantly endeavor, yourself, to be an example, reverend sir?" before the bishop could deny this h. r. gave into his hands a book beautifully bound in hand-tooled morocco. the leaves were vellum. on the first page was artistically engrossed: _hunger knows no denomination._ _there must not be starving men, women, or children in new york._ _we who do not hunger must feed those who do._ _let us feed all the hungry!_ "here, bishop phillipson, is the place at the head of the list. it will be signed by men and women whose names stand for achievement, fame, and disinterestedness." h. r. held a fountain-pen before him and pursued: "if you sign, i'll feed all the hungry--_all_! have you ever seen a starving man? do you know what it is to be hungry?" the bishop shook his head at the fountain-pen. he had seen starving men, but he had read about signatures. he could not officially sanction a plan of which he knew so little. no grown man can say that he did not know what he was signing. "listen!" commanded h. r., sternly. "do you hear your master's voice?" "your intentions, i make no doubt, are highly praiseworthy. but your language is so close to blasphemy...." "all words that invoke god in unrhymed english are so regarded in the united states. grace would have it that you would sign in chinese if by so doing it fed the hungry. '_but the greatest of these is charity._' the reporters are waiting for the list. everybody else will sign if you head the list." "of course." and the bishop's voice actually betrayed the fact that he had been forced into self-defense. "of course. i should be only too glad to sign if i were certain such an action on my part would actually feed the hungry--" "_all_ the hungry," corrected h. r. "even a tenth of the hungry of new york," the bishop insisted. "but, my dear young man, excellent intentions do not always succeed. your methods might not commend themselves to men who have made this work the study of a lifetime." "they have not gone about their work intelligently, for there are still unfed men in new york. i am a practical man, not a theorist. emotions, respected sir, are all very well to appeal to at vote-getting times, but they are poor things to think with. now i don't suppose i have devoted more than one hour's thought to this subject, and yet see the difference. _all_ the hungry!" in h. r.'s voice there was not the faintest trace of self-glorification nor did his manner show the slightest vanity. both were calmly matter-of-fact. the bishop had to have an explanation. so he asked: "and your--er--quite unemotional and sudden interest in this--er--affair, mr. rutgers...." "you mean, where do i come in?" cut in h. r. the bishop almost blushed as he shook his head and explained: "rather, your motive in undertaking so difficult...." "oh yes. you mean, _why_?" "yes," said the bishop, and looked at h. r. full in the eyes. "because i desire to marry grace goodchild and i wish to be worthy of her. it is a man's job to jolt new york into a spasm of practical christianity." the bishop smiled. after all, this was a boy, and his enthusiasm might make up for what his motive lacked in profundity of wisdom. "and besides," went on h. r., in a lowered voice, "i hate to think that men can starve when i have enough to eat without earning my food." he smiled shamefacedly. "my boy!" cried the bishop, and shook the boy's hand warmly, "i'm afraid you are--" "don't call me good, bishop!" "i was going to say it, but i won't. do you think you can do what you propose?" "i know it!" and h. r. looked at dr. phillipson steadily. the bishop looked back. he was no match for h. r. "i will sign!" said the bishop. xvi h. r. walked slowly to his office. spring was in the air. the sky was very blue and the air sparkled with sun-dust. life thrilled in waves. the breeze sang, as it does at times in the city. it had not the harps of the trees to strum on, but it made shift with the corners of the houses. hand in hand with the breeze from the south came the joy of living that, after all, is merely the joy of loving. the soul of god's beautiful world--light, heat, beauty, love--percolated into the soul of hendrik rutgers and filled it--filled it full. it called for the one woman in songs--the same songs the breeze was humming.... ah, the encouragement of the wind! it bade him take her! it told him exactly whither the breeze was going, whither he should carry her in his arms. it whispered to him the place where he might lay down his burden! he walked on, head erect, chest inflated, fists clenched. he would take her from the world and make her his world. their world!--his and hers; his first, then hers. after that they would share it equally. the breeze sang on. as he crossed madison square he was made aware that the sparrows also had heard the song and, phonograph-like, were repeating it. a little shriller, but the same song. ten thousand sparrows--and each thought it was original! and the little pale-green leaves were nodding approval. and the azure smile of the sky was benignantly telling all creation to go ahead--as it was in the beginning, as it would be in the end. he loved her! he would love her even if she were not the most beautiful girl in all the round world. he would love her if she were penniless; even if her father were his best friend. he loved her and he loved his love of her. her eyes were two skies that smiled more bluely than god's one. her hair had the rust of gold and the dust of sun, and radiated light and glints of love. from her wonderful lips came, in the voice of the flowers, the one command that he, a hater of slaves, would obey, gratefully kneeling. and the lips said it, flower-like, in silence! she was not there to be loved. but he loved her, and because he loved her he loved everybody, everything. even his fellow-men. they also should love! all of them! love to love and love to live! did they? he looked for the first time at his fellow-men on the park benches. he saw sodden faces, reptile-like sunning themselves, warming their skins; no more. they were men without money. they therefore were men without eyes, without ears, without tongues. they therefore were men without love. everything had been cleanly excised by the great surgeon, civilization! a wonderful invention, money. to think that puny man had, by means of that ingenious device, thwarted not only nature, but god himself! if money had not been invented, there would not be great cities to be loveless in! but those on the park benches, lizard-like sunning themselves, were tramps. the pedestrians had money. they, therefore, must have love. he looked at them and saw that what they had was their hands in their pockets. doubtless it was to keep their money there. by so doing they did not have to sit on park benches and fail to see the sky and the buds, and fail to hear the birds and the breeze. and yet, as he looked he saw on their faces the same blindness and the same deafness. on the benches sat immortal souls drugged with misery. on the paths walked men asleep with self. he alone was alive and awake! the appalling solitude of a great city was all about him. he was the only living man in new york! and grace goodchild was the only woman in the world! he loved her. he loved everybody. he wished to give, give, give! "you'll be fed!" he said to the park benches. "you'll feed em!" he told the sidewalks. "i'll marry you! he wirelessed to grace. "you," he said to all new york, "will pay for every bit of it!" he walked into his office, frowning. andrew barrett was there. "come with me," h. r. told him, and led the way into the private office. he sat down at his desk, brushed away a lot of letters, and said to his aide: "barrett, i've got a man's job this time." sandwiching for banks that had deposits of over one hundred millions appealed to andrew barrett. and the standard oil and the steel trust, also, held possibilities. after the s. a. s. a. got those he would go into business for himself. "who is it?" he asked, eagerly. "grace goodchild!" answered h. r., absently. "oh, i thought--" h. r. started. "what? oh! you are thinking of business. well, i'm going to put new york on the map at one fell swoop." andrew barrett beamed. at last, millions! all new york using sandwiches at regular rates! h. r. looked at his lieutenant and smiled forgivingly. after all, it was not andrew's fault that the spring was not in his soul. "barrett, men and women in all civilized communities desire three things. all of them begin with a b. can you guess?" "not i!" answered barrett, with diplomatic self-depreciation. there are questions whose answers gain you mortal enmity by depriving the questioner of the greatest of all pleasures. "bread, beauty, and bunco. you satisfy all the natural wants of humanity by supplying these three. now men pay for their necessities with whatever coin happens to be current. i have sometimes thought of a state of society in which payment need not be made in interchangeable labor units, but in the self-satisfaction of accomplishment. i have even dreamed," he finished, sternly, "of making goodness fashionable!" "merciful heaven!" exclaimed barrett, in indescribable awe. h. r. shook his head gloomily. "the trouble," he said, bitterly, "is that it is so damned easy to be good, so obviously intelligent, so natural! men are bad, i firmly believe, because badness is so roundabout and expensive. how else can you explain it? society, since money was invented, has craved for expensive things. society is, in truth, expense." "say, chief, i don't get the dope about goodness being easy." "probably not; it is too obvious. the early christians died gladly. it was good form. dying for god ceased to be fashionable. hence universal suffrage. to die for god merely means to live for god. do you see?" "no. the christian part bothers me." "let us be heathen, then. the spartan mother loved her sons. sent them to battle saying, _with your shield or on it!_ the axiom of the locality is the fashion of the place. to die bravely in sparta was to be fashionable. if i can make goodness fashionable i'll do something that is very easy and very difficult. if men were not such damned fools it would be so restful to be wise." "yes, h. r., but human nature--" "exactly. we go against human nature always. god gave to men the precious gift of fear in order that they might overcome it. man's fear to-day is to be good. once upon a time men feared hell. it is now the fashion for americans to think, _to hell with hell!_" andrew barrett shook his head dubiously. he was not really interested in abstractions. but he desired to be on good terms with his chief. the best way to be nice to a man is to put up a weak argument. he began, feebly defending, "but there must be some people--" "it is perfectly proper to be selfish if you are alone. it is stupid to be selfish when you are one of a group. therefore, my inveterately young friend and typical compatriot, we must do something for nothing. tip off the papers." barrett shook his head. "i don't get you," he confessed, sadly. "few people do when you tell them they have to do something and not be paid for it. to-morrow and the day after our men must display a new sandwich for the cause for two hours." he paused, then he finished, sternly, "tell them i said so!" "i will," hastily said barrett, only too glad to shift the responsibility. "you might request the regular advertisers to pay full time, just the same." "you bet i will! and what will the boards say?" "let me have your pencil," said h. r., and he wrote: next week the men who have made new york the empire city of god's own country will feed all the hungry who have no money o. k. h. r., _sec._ "there!" said h. r. andrew barrett read it. "if it was anybody else--" he muttered. "convey to your reporter friends that this is the biggest story of the year. particularly impress upon them that it is a secret!" "i'll impress that on them, all right," promised barrett, with profound sincerity. "it is really pleasant not to have to lie." h. r. rose and said: "i must get the other names. i have begun with the bishop. and he showed barrett the signature of dr. phillipson. "why his?" asked barrett. "i expect him to officiate at my wedding. also, he is a conservative, and wall street is for him, strong. don't you see? get the sandwiches ready." h. r. no longer bothered with details. he had discovered that by resolutely expecting people to do things, people did them. every eight hundred and thirty-one years a man is born who can throw upon his fellow-men the yoke of responsibility so that it stays put. he decided that it would look well in print to play up the non-sectarianism of the affair. he would therefore have the prominent people meet in the granite presbyterian church, attracting the presbyterians who otherwise might have objected to bishop phillipson's leadership. but the meeting would be presided over by bishop barrows, a methodist. bishop phillipson would agree to this. did not his name come first in the stirring call to the metropolis? but, of course, to give to the project an attractive and, indeed, a compelling interest he would resort to the great american worship of bulk. it must be big. it must be the biggest ever! xvii he had no trouble in getting the other names. the bankers were easy. he told each that the cash was to be handled by a committee of bankers, thereby insuring efficient management. if jones, of the small nineteenth national, signed, dawson, of the big metropolitan, must do likewise or be convicted of lack of sympathy with a popular cause. the "dawson party," comprising, as it did, the richest men in the world, needed popularity, heaven knew. he also told the bankers that they would not have to pay out anything. it won them. he clenched it by comparing charity to the income tax. yes, he did! "nobody," he argued, "objects to an income tax that embraces _everybody_! the great good of such a tax is to make every man feel that he is supporting the government and to see to it that the government is spending his money wisely. the income tax should lead to more intelligent citizenship." each banker agreed heartily to that. "the same with charity. compel everybody to be charitable, the clerk equally with the president, that the burden may fall not on the rich, but on the many. just sign here, will you, please? thank you." the other signatures were equally easy to get. the so-called experts in charity work always give _their_ reasons. result: $. . on parting, h. r. told each signer the same thing: "the reporters will be present at the meeting. they may not stay till the very end. all they want is an advance copy of the speeches and the names of the people in the first three rows. the meeting begins at eight-thirty sharp!" he did not urge a single signer to attend, but at eight-twenty every seat in the granite presbyterian church was filled by prominent people who hated reporters and their loathsome prying into a man's private affairs. it was a distinguished gathering, for h. r. had picked out nobody whose name was not familiar to readers of newspaper advertisements, society news, and government anti-corporation suits. entire pews were filled with success in art, literature, science, commerce, finance, and christianity. on the stage, formerly called chancel, were seated four bank presidents, four bishops, four merchants, four social leaders, four great writers, four great editors, four great painters, four great landlords, four great statesmen; in short, four great everything. h. r. rose and said: "before introducing the chairman i desire the uninvited to retire instantly. the invitations were sent exclusively to the men who have made new york what it is!" would you believe it? not one man retired. and they all knew what new york was, too! they really thought new york was something to be proud of. "those who do not rightfully belong here will retire!" repeated h. r. so threateningly that each man instantly sweated mucilage and remained glued to his seat. "i present our temporary chairman, bishop barrows." "the meeting will come to order," said the bishop. profound silence reigned. this so flabbergasted the reverend chairman that he fidgeted. then he offered a prayer. when he had finished and the audience had drawn the customary long breath that follows "amen" the chairman hesitated. "i'll tell 'em why we are here, if you wish," whispered h. r. then, exactly as though the bishop had acquiesced, he said, "very well, bishop," and he obediently arose. the bishop repeated, hypnotically, "mr. rutgers will tell you why we are here." h. r. bowed to him and to the congregation. the reporters woke up. here was something better than oratory or facts: news. this explains why the newspapers give more space to who speaks than to what is said. "fellow new-yorkers! we have been accused of provincialism. they tell us we don't care for the rest of the country. this is not true. we do care. we ought to: we own it! we supply to the rest of the country the money to be prosperous with, the paintings to be artistic with, the magazines to be cultivated with, the gowns to be beautiful with, and a place to spend money in, unsurpassed in the world. we have built the best hotels in the universe expressly to accommodate the people that hate new york. this is the soul of hospitality. new york leads. other cities follow. they copy our clothes, our dances, our financiering, our barbers, our sandwiches, and the uniform of our street-cleaners. our superiority is not only acknowledged, but resented. we have decided to do something that never before has been attempted, not even by automobile manufacturers. let other cities copy us if they will. we are going to feed all the hungry who have no money! we are going to do it on the new york plan completely, intelligently, efficiently, and, above everything, picturesquely. you have seen the sandwich announcements?" they had. for two days all new york had seen them and all new york had talked about them, for the announcements had taken on the aspect of a puzzle. the answer was now expected. on vaudeville stages shining stars were at that very moment volunteering humorous solutions through their noses. "we propose to do it by means of improved tickets. no man shall buy more than one. the millionaire and the minister, the merchant and the mut, all will help. and all will help equally that each may benefit his soul in like degree without injury to any pocketbook. and, gentlemen, we are going to do it in an entirely new way." everybody stared intently at h. r. an entirely new way! "nobody will be allowed to buy more than one ticket. the price will be twenty-five cents! that sum will buy one ideal meal. the ticket not only will entitle the holder thereof to admission to madison square garden, but it will also carry a coupon worth ten thousand dollars in cash!" he paused. the assemblage went pale. hands were seen hastily buttoning up coats. "i personally will give the money," said h. r., sternly. a great sigh of relief soughed its way himward. "the meal will be a revelation to those who talk about the high cost of living and will conclusively prove the advantage of being permitted to do business in a large way without ill-advised interference by a grandfatherly government. it thus will have an important bearing on current legislation. each ticket-buyer will see with his own eyes the entire journey of the quarter from the pocket to the empty stomach. also the coupon attached to every ticket, worth ten thousand dollars in cash, will be a reward not of charity alone, but of the combination of charity and brains." the audience fidgeted. they did not believe it. it was too remarkable. but, anyhow, it was the orator's own money. "there will be," pursued h. r., accusingly, "no waste, no scientific un-christianity, no half-baked philanthropy, no nonsense. on one day next week the sun will set on our city, and not one man, woman, or child will go to bed hungry, unless it is by his doctor's orders. all the hungry who have no money shall be fed. as for the coupon, i have myself already contributed the necessary funds to take care of that." instead of feeling irritation at the repetition, they looked at him with a respect not often seen in a church. "it has never been attempted. i realize that we cannot make lazy men prosperous nor put in brains where they were left out by a wise providence; but we are going to abolish hunger for one day, and then see what we can do to make conditions improve permanently. and the burden will be shared alike by all--nobody more than twenty-five cents." a look of resolve came over the faces of the entire audience. it was an experiment worth trying! "gentlemen," added h. r., sternly, "we are going to call the bluff of the anarchistic labor agitators!" a storm of applause burst from the audience. h. r. held up a hand. "in giving, it is always wise to know to whom you are giving. the society of american sandwich artists, with the aid of those who have made new york what it is, pledges itself to see to it that the meals find the proper bellies. there is no such thing as scientific charity any more than there is unscientific poverty. nobody hates to give, but everybody wishes to give wisely. i guarantee that nobody who has money to buy food with will be fed at our expense. _i guarantee this!_" "_how?_" burst from three hundred and eighteen throats. "that is our secret. i may add that the coupon, worth exactly ten thousand dollars in cash, is not a lottery scheme. gentlemen, i count upon your cooperation. i thank you." he bowed, modestly stepped back and nodded to bishop barrows. "adjourn," he whispered. "i have a few--" began dr. barrows, protestingly. "adjourn. the reporters will print them from your manuscript." "but--" h. r. took out his handkerchief and wiped his cool, unfevered brow. he had foreseen the chairman's speech. max onthemaker, who had been waiting for the signal, jumped to his feet and yelled: "i move we adjourn!" "second the motion!" shrieked andrew barrett from a rear pew. the bishop had to put the motion. not having been called upon to pledge money, the assembly decided it was prudent to get out before the situation changed. the motion was unanimously carried. h. r. received the reporters in the vestry-room. he even shook hands with them. then he said, as usual giving them the "lead" for their stories: "these are the points to emphasize: the tickets are unlike any other tickets ever invented. they cost twenty-five cents. they will carry a coupon. to a person with brains that same coupon will be worth ten thousand dollars in cash. chance has nothing to do with it. brains! in any event, the twenty-five cents will buy one ideal meal. the menu will be prepared by the menu commission, composed of competent persons, which is another novelty in commissions--the highest-paid chefs in new york, the proprietors of the three best restaurants, the three leading diet specialists, and three experts on hunger. no food fads and no disguised advertisements of breakfast foods or nerve-bracers. what dr. eliot's five-foot book-shelf did for literature the s. a. s. a. ideal hunger-appeaser will do for the masses. that menu inaugurates a revolution without bloodshed, vulgar language, or the destruction of fundamental institutions. the low price of our meal is made possible by the application of automobile-factory methods and the fact that we have no profit to make. play fair with the restaurant-keeper, boys, and make this strong: "the s. a. s. a., after epoch-making experiments, psychological and physiological, has succeeded in making fraudulent hunger impossible. we have a cash-detector which will enable us to discard any applicant who can pay for his food, and our alcoholic thirst-tester automatically eliminates booze-fighters. the mammoth hunger feast will be held at madison square garden. each ticket admits the buyer to the feast--as an eye-witness that he may see where his money has gone. the coupon will be detached by the ticket-taker at the entrance and returned to the ticket-holder. uncharitable people who have no brains need not buy a ticket. "no shop, church, or bank will offer the tickets for sale; only our own sellers in person and only one to each customer. we are not going to pay anybody twenty thousand dollars. that's flat! the names of the members of our various commissions will be announced later." he nodded dismissingly. then he seemed to remember that these were gentlemen. he said: "my secretary, who has taken down my remarks in shorthand, will give you typewritten copies of same. use what you will. only correct my english, won't you? i'm not literary." that made them his friends. but the _tribune_ man said: "i'm from missouri and i'm not going to print anything unless--" "i don't expect you to print news. these gentlemen know i receive no salary. they know as well as i do that my sole object is to win the hand of grace goodchild." the _journal_ man, who was sweet on the "advice to the love-lorn" editress, feverishly wrote the head-line, all for love! "i needn't say to you," went on h. r., with a look that made the reporters respect his reticence, "that if i were an advertising man the publicity methods that i have introduced would have made me richer than i am. _what in hell would i do with more money?_ answer me that!" the _tribune_ man answered by turning pale. the others looked uneasy. when a well-dressed young man asks that question in new york there can be but two answers: bloomingdale or standard oil. h. r. was going to marry a rich banker's only daughter. he was therefore no lunatic. h. r. was thenceforth regarded by the newspapers, and therefore by the public, as a fabulously rich man. this made him definitely front page. no other man ever became chronically that without committing murder or playing for the labor vote. xviii all the morning papers spread themselves on the story and thereby gained the respect of those present at the meeting whose names were mentioned. only one of the journals featured grace goodchild. two dwelt strongly on the ten-thousand-dollar coupon and on the fact that the wealth of those present at the granite presbyterian church aggregated $ , , , . one pure-food featurer played up the ideal meal, and two the hope that at last charity would be discriminating. at . a.m. messages began to rain down on h. r. they came by livened youth, by telephone, and by secretaries. "why," asked the fitz-marlton, "was not our chef considered enough? why drag in others?" "how does it happen that our fifty-thousand-dollars-a-year piccolini, who possesses eighteen decorations from crowned heads, is not one of the public menu commission? don't you want the best?" this came from the vandergilt in writing that looked like ornamental spaghetti. "please call at your earliest convenience and see what we give for $ . in the way of a substantial breakfast," laconically invited herr bummerlich of the pastoral. caspar weinpusslacher called in person. he asked, reproachfully: "how it comes, mr. rutchers, that your best friend--" "weinie," interrupted h. r., "this will cost you two thousand five hundred tickets for your thirty-cent meal. you are put down as one of the best three restaurateurs, together with perry's and the robespierre." "but say, mr. rutchers, two thousand five hundred--" began weinie, trying to look angry at the extortion. he was rich now; he was even one of the sights of new york. "three thousand! that's what your haggling has done," cut in h. r., with the cold determination that made him so formidable. "all right!" and caspar ran out of the room. a terrible man, this. but frau weinpusslacher would be in society now. "i trust you will not be misled by _newspaper scientists_ into fool dietetics," wrote mcappen dix, m.d., the hygiene expert of an afternoon paper. h. r. promptly stopped reading the letters and told one of his stenographers, "reply to all telephone inquiries that the personnel of the commission has not yet been definitely decided upon." the three highest-salaried chefs in new york, their emoluments duly quadrupled by the reporters after eating sample ideal luncheons, the three best restaurateurs, and the three leading experts on stomachic functions had their names printed as "probable public menu commission" by the afternoon prints. doubtless in order not to be accused of plagiarism each afternoon paper published a different set of names. tentative menus also were given, to be repudiated by h. r. and by indignant competitors in the next morning's papers. that is how, in its glorious march to charity, all new york began to take an interest in menus. it was the first symptom of an awakened civic conscience and intelligent humanitarianism. "tell me what you eat and i will tell you what you are," long ago observed brillat-savarin. h. r. wrote it for the reporters. it furnished the text for learned editorial sermons. when andrew barrett ventured to express his admiration, h. r. murmured: "plausible, persistent, and picturesque." "i don't quite get you," said barrett. "watch me and learn," retorted h. r. other men have disregarded persistence, but h. r. did not. he kept up the firing; no broadside, but one big gun at a time--once a day. as a result, the h. r. plan for feeding the hungry of new york assumed a serious aspect. the right bill of fare would change potential socialists into sensible citizens. this was so obviously true that everybody said no living man could do it. but everybody anxiously looked for the publication of the public menu commission's report. it thus became news plus suspense. the moment h. r. had selected the personnel of the commission he went to the goodchild house. "frederick, tell miss goodchild to come down at once. i have only a minute to stay. make haste!" the imperturbable english menial actually ran. grace rushed down in alarm. frederick's incoherent words had made her fear it was a message from her dressmaker telling why it was absolutely impossible to have it ready in time as promised under oath. she petrified herself when she beheld the man who had made her famous. she did this in order not to betray her glad relief. "oh!" "grace!" exclaimed h. r., fervently. he quickly approached her, took her hand and led her into her own drawing-room. he then waved his disengaged left at all the chairs with an air that said, "i give all this magnificence to you!" he waved again and commanded, "sit down!" she obeyed, but he did not let go her right hand. he sat beside her. just as she was about to pull it away indignantly he patted it twice very kindly and himself laid it on her own lap. her anger was on the very brink of turning itself into oratory when he stood up, squarely before her, clenched his fists in order to hold himself in a vanadium-steel clutch, and whispered, huskily: "merciful heaven, but you're beautiful!" the vocal storm, checked for an instant by his extraordinary exhibition of self-control, gave him time to go on: "don't look at me! don't you know how beautiful you are? it isn't fair!" he turned from her, walked over to one of the windows, and stared out of it. it showed more than self-control. it showed respect. and there are times when a new york girl likes to feel that the man who wishes to marry her also respects her. grace knew it would be absurd to ring for a policeman; as absurd as to encourage h. r. to stay. and she really had not studied him cold-bloodedly. she looked at his back and wondered. presently h. r. turned from the window and with a semblance of composure said to her: "if you will scold me, or laugh at me, or turn your back on me, i'll find it easier to speak calmly." since such was the case, she decided not to do any of the things he desired her to do. she also said nothing. it is a very wise woman who, being beautiful, can keep her mouth shut. "grace, you and i are now at the door of the church. our wedding will be positively a national event. have you read the papers? did you see what i have undertaken to do for your sake?" she turned away her head. but she heard him say, with the calmness of a man who is sure of himself, and therefore to be respected: "i am cool again. you may turn your head this way." her foot was tap-tapping the polar-bear skin eighty-four times to the minute. she was trying to find a way of getting rid of him once for all. she did not desire more sensational newspaper articles, and she realized that she must be more than careful if she was not to supply the material for them. she was clever enough to realize that this was not a man to be shooed away, chickenwise. what had seemed so easy to do was in truth an appalling problem. "listen, grace. for your sake i gave to new york free sandwiches." she sniffed before she could help it. "you are right," he admitted, "even if it made you famous"--she was unmoved--"and me rich!" she started slightly. she had never thought of the business end of his crusade. the motive is everything, in love as in murder. "you are right," he pursued. "but, really, i am not bragging about it. but now i'm going to give free dinners. millions are affected-- i mean millions of dollars, not people. but i must have your help. even your da-- "sir!" began the loyal daughter, angrily. "_dad_, i was going to say, not _damn_, as you naturally assumed," he explained, with dignity. "even dad is on the mammoth hunger feast commission. i put him on. when he sees i got the other bank presidents he'll stay on. but i'll tell you why i came to see you--" "uninvited," she frowned. "of course. i haven't asked for the latch-key. by the way, is this house big enough for the wedding reception?" he pondered, anxiously. "it is--for mine," she said, pointedly. then she wondered why she didn't order him away. the reason was that she couldn't. he wasn't that kind of man! "that's good," he exclaimed with relief. "well, i want you to sell tickets. you read about the tickets for the mammoth hunger feast?" "no! and i don't wish to know anything about it." "quite so," he said, approvingly. "that being the case, you know all about it. the tickets are to be sold by the one hundred perfectly beautiful girls in new york. you head the list." she turned her face to him, a sneer on her lips. but before she could speak he said, apologetically: "i know it isn't a subtle compliment. it happens to be a fact. there is going to be tremendous pressure brought to bear on me for places on the corps. i tell you this because your best friends will drive you crazy asking you to use your influence with me. people who decry favoritism always expect favors. i'd do anything for you. but i can't have any but perfectly beautiful ones. i simply can't!" she looked at him with irrepressible interest. then, remembering her position, said, coldly, "will you please leave now and never come back?" he went on: "it is going to make enemies for you. that will be your first payment for being famous. you will be number one of the perfectly beautiful hundred because god made you what you are and not because you are my wife--" "i am not!" "--to be. you didn't let me finish. tell your friends you can't. if they pester you, tell 'em flatly you won't. and for heaven's sake don't use the photograph of your pearls any more, nor the crane portrait. use the picture _vogue_ had last week. or get some fresh ones and give la touche an order to supply 'em to the reporters. they won't cost you a cent that way, because they print his name. good-by, grace." he held out his hand. she quickly put hers behind her back. his face thereat lighted up. "ah, you love me!" he exclaimed. "it was only a question of time, empress. and you will never know how much i love you until you realize what it costs me to go away from here, unkissing, unkissed, and yet without regrets! but some day--" he paused, and then, with a fierce hunger that made his voice thick, "some day i'll _eat_ you!" he walked out. she made an instinctive movement toward him, but checked herself. as he left the room she confronted the mirror and looked at herself. it brought the usual mood of kindliness. she forgave him. she rang for frederick. "the menaud motor, at once!" and went up-stairs to telephone. if the reporters had to use photographs, she couldn't stop them. ten minutes later she had kindly given la touche the photographer eighteen poses. la touche thanked her with the perfervid sincerity of a man whose irreducible minimum is forty-eight dollars a dozen. then he asked, anxiously: "in case the reporters--" "i suppose they'd get them, anyhow." she spoke cynically. "not unless they stole 'em," he denied, dignifiedly. "we never give any out without permission. of course they'd use snapshots, which are not always--er--artistic." remembering that she had been snapped when she had a veil on and also with her mouth open, as all mouths must be in active speech, she told him in a bored tone: "it doesn't interest me." "thank you, mademoiselle! thank you!" effusively exclaimed the artist. "it is no wonder--" she turned on him a cold, haughty stare. he was all confusion. "_pardon!_ i--i-- monsieur rutgers--" he stammered. "i--i-- he--" she left the shop, a vindictive look in her wonderful eyes. she hated h. r. was she merely the advertised vulgarity of that unspeakable man whom her family so foolishly had not jailed? what had he made of her? she might not mind being called beautiful by the newspapers, but-- the photographer's liveried flunky on the sidewalk opened the door of her motor. nine pedestrians, two of them male, stopped. "that's grace goodchild!" hissed one of the women, tensely. "see her?" loudly asked another. in the time consumed between the opening of the car's door and her taking her seat eleven more new-yorkers gathered about the menaud. "home!" she snapped, angrily. the photographer's flunky stepped away to tell the chauffeur. instantly a young man's head was thrust through the window of the car. behind him crowded a dozen disgusting beasts--female. "you're a pippin!" came from the young man's face a foot from her own. she shrank back. "say, _he's_ right! i wisht i was in his--" then the motor started and nearly, but, alas! not quite, decapitated the loathsome compatriot. if this was fame, she didn't wish any of it, she decided. "i hate him!" she said to the cut-glass flower-holder. "he has given me this absurd notoriety and-- what delays us?" she looked out of the window. they were halted at thirty-fourth street. presently the traffic policeman's whistle blew. the motor started again. she looked at the policeman. he instantly touched his helmet to her. and she saw also that he nodded eagerly to his mounted colleague across the street. the man on horseback also saluted her militarily! she bowed to him. she had to, being well-bred. she also smiled. she was of the logical sex. "nevertheless, i hate--" but she left her thought unfinished in her quick desire to lie to herself. "the policeman must know papa," she said, aloud, to show h. r. what she thought of him. and that made her wonder what h. r. had up his sleeve now. what did he mean by saying that her troubles were only beginning and that she soon would feel the heavy price of fame? what absurd thing was that about the perfectly beautiful hundred and the tickets and the beauty commission and the free sandwiches--hateful word!--and the free dinners, and the-- she almost ran up to her room, pretending not to hear the voices of her tea-drinking friends in the dutch room. in her boudoir she quickly read all the newspaper clippings. she learned all about the mammoth hunger feast because, this being the second time, she now read intelligently, instead of looking for a certain name. if h. r. could do all he said he would, he would be a wonder. and he was a very clever chap, anyhow. her father must be wrong. mr. goodchild himself could never get the newspapers to say about him all the nice things they said about h. r. and bishop phillipson and the fathers of girls she knew, and people she had heard of and painters and novelists and--er--people were helping h. r. the tickets and the ten-thousand-dollar coupons and the ideal menu! "he _is_ clever!" she admitted, and smiled. then she decided, "if he makes me ridiculous--" and frowned. "i could kill him!" she said, calmly, as befits a christian assassin. that desire compelled her to think of h. r. and of what he had said from their first meeting at the bank. he had said much and had done more. in the end she spoke aloud: "i wonder if he really loves me?" a knock at the door was the only answer--a servant who came to tell her that mrs. goodchild wished her to know they were waiting for her downstairs in the dutch room. "very well," she said to the servant. to herself she said, firmly, "even if he loves me and is everything he should be i can never marry a man who has made me feel like a theatrical poster!" her determination was adamantine. to break it h. r. must be more than clever. xix h. r. at that very moment was in his office. he had prepared a few model epistles for his public sentiment corps to write to the newspapers, asking whether the composition of the ideal hunger-appeaser had been printed and when the tickets for the mammoth hunger feast would be offered for sale. this would keep alive interest in his plans and in the personnel of his public commissions. people had grown to believe that all sorts of commissions were necessary not only to free but even to intelligent government. he had his list of names ready for the reporters when they called. "the announcement as to how we shall sell the tickets--each at twenty-five cents--to pay for a wonderful meal for a hungry person and a coupon attached, with ten thousand dollars in cash if you have brains--will be made to-morrow." "but--" expostulated a fat reporter. "to-morrow!" said h. r., feeling strong enough now to be nasty to the press. either he was or he was not yet news. he would decide that matter for all time. "do you think we are your hired press agents to--" angrily began the fat one. "i don't give a damn if i never see you again. i don't care what you print or what you don't print, nor when. we do our advertising through the medium of sandwiches. get to hell out of here and remember the libel laws; also that i pay my lawyers by the year. they are not very busy just now." to the others he said, kindly, "that's all to-day, boys. i'm busy as blazes." cursing the absurd libel laws which prevent all newspapers from printing the truth, the fat reporter took his list of names and his leave at one and the same time. you can't treat even frauds humorously nowadays. h. r. had won again! he summoned andrew barrett and said to him: "get this sandwich out to-morrow. it is one of our own. s. a. s. a. account; all-day job." "the men objected to the other--" "seven thirty-cent tickets to weinpusslacher's apiece," interrupted h. r., impatiently. "get them from weinie. he owes us three thousand." "great! greatissimo!" shouted young mr. barrett. he hated to pay out real money, and the members were getting ugly. they wanted pay for everything, even for sandwiching for the cause. "go to the costumer of the metropolitan opera house, to madame pauline, and to monsieur raquin of the rue de la paix who is stopping at the hôtel regina, and to the fashion editor of the _ladies' home mentor_, and ask each to send us a design for a ticket-seller's costume. they will be worn by perfectly beautiful girls. there will be one hundred of them. i myself vote for the perfect thirty-eight, about five feet seven and one-half tall. my model of perfection is miss goodchild. get busy. and, barrett--" "yes, sir." "here is the text for the sandwich." h. r. handed a sheet of paper to his lieutenant, who read thereon: one hundred girls will sell tickets to the mammoth hunger feast * * * * * they are the only perfectly beautiful girls in all new york * * * * * look for them! look at them! perfectly beautiful! o. k. h. r., _sec._ "say, h. r., this is the master-stroke! commented andrew barrett. "to-morrow," said h. r. coldly, "one hundred sandwiches on the avenue. one of them in front of goodchild's all day. white canvas. heliotrope letters. pea-green border. design number eleven. also insert this ad. in all the papers." this was the copy of the advertisement: _wanted:_ perfectly beautiful girls. not merely pretty, nor merely young, nor merely hopeful, but perfectly beautiful! object: to make new-yorkers thank providence they live in the same town. apply h. r., allied arts bldg. andrew barrett read it and left the room shaking his head, unable to speak coherently. h. r. looked up a few addresses in the directory and went out. he called on the president of the national academy of design, on the professor of anatomy of the college of physicians and surgeons, on the president of the national sculpture society, the president of the magazine cover designers' guild, the president of the equal suffrage league, who was mrs. vandergilt, and professor tangolino, late of the argentine republic. these, with h. r., would constitute the public beauty commission and would decide who was perfectly beautiful. to each he pointed out that the noble cause of charity must be advanced. also an american standard of perfect beauty would be established for all time, their decision being unappealable. the artists instantly approved the plan, the method being artistic and therefore strictly logical. the president of the suffrage league at first demurred. she objected to sex being dragged into the affair, and, besides, mere physical beauty too long had been accorded a disproportionate importance in social and political matters. it degraded a sex fit for higher things than to be man's plaything. h. r., however, earnestly pointed out that it involved the recognition of the superior salesmanship of women--not sales_woman_ship, but sales_man_ship, for while man was no better than woman in the conduct of the government or anything else, woman was infinitely the superior of man in many things. he finally induced mrs. vandergilt and the others to serve on the commission. but the damned newspapers, he warned them, would print names and would, alas! devote much space to their deliberations. they said that the regrettable publicity would not stop them from doing their duty. he returned to his office and prepared a series of questions for the papers to ask him. this is the most intelligent form of newspaper interview because it is always printed. answers to the reporters' own questions always appear in the papers when the reporters themselves have to supply them. these were the questions--which later on the public sentiment corps answered with judiciously varied ayes and noes. . were there one hundred perfectly beautiful girls in new york? . would there be a second judgment of paris? . was the public beauty commission really competent? . how many points for complexion and coloring? for teeth? for figure? for hands and feet and hair? . would not a uniform garment, on the lines of annette kellerman's bathing-suit, be the only fair way? . would the wives, daughters, or fiancées of the members of the commission be _hors concours_? . at what age did a girl cease to be a _girl_? . should morality be allowed to interfere with art? when the reporters called at the s. a. s. a. offices h. r. gave to each a typewritten set of the questions and said: "the commission will hold meetings. they will be public to the applicants. nobody else, excepting male reporters, will be allowed to be present. and you might add, gentlemen, that the commission considers the requirements for success so uncommon as to render unnecessary the lease of the madison square garden to hold the candidates. the sessions will be held in a room not much larger than this room. and," added the diabolic h. r., "we have no fear of overcrowding. they have to be _perfectly beautiful girls_, beautifully perfect. now, don't quote me, boys, but you might print, as a report on good authority, that the only one thus far chosen is miss grace goodchild!" though all reporters are human, most of them are grateful. they duly published the "rumor" and grace's latest photographs. xx long before the tea was over, grace goodchild, two miles north of him, realized that h. r. was one of those detestable persons who are always right. a dozen of her intimates surrounded her in the dutch room. they all talked at once. when eleven stopped for lack of breath the twelfth, who very cleverly had saved hers, asked: "did they really pick you out, grace?" the speaker was not perfectly beautiful. but she was wise and therefore a virgin. "no!" said grace. "but really, i don't want to have anything to do with it." "if hendrik was _my_ hendrik, i'd be _it_," said the wise virgin, determinedly, "or he'd know it!" "he told me," grace spoke modestly, "that only perfectly beautiful girls would be chosen. and so of course that lets me out!" "oh-h-h-h!" came in chorus. there ensued much whispering. grace flushed. no woman likes to be accused of mendacity monosyllabically. it made her dislike h. r. more than ever. "does your father," asked the wise one, "still oppose--" "he does," answered grace. then she added, "of course." "i think your father--" and the wise one bit her lips. you would have thought she was snipping off thread with her teeth. a well-bred person must do this oftener than a seamstress--to keep herself from telling the truth. "_my_ father," tactfully observed marion molyneux, "could oppose until the cows came home." "mamma is on the commission and i'm not eligible, so _i_ am not after his vote," said ethel vandergilt. "but i'd love to meet him, grace. is he all they say he is?" grace goodchild for the first time began to realize that h. r. was a remarkable man. she realized it by the simple expedient of disliking ethel. "is it true that he'll do anything you tell him?" cut in cynthia coleman, enviously. she was a very pretty girl, with the absurd doll face that makes men feel so manly. she had brains. a girl with that face always has. she shows it by never showing them. the face does the trick more quickly. grace said, calmly, "h. r. never--" "oh, girls, she calls him h. r., too!" exclaimed marion. feeling herself one of a multitude made grace feel a mere human being. created in the image of god, each of them naturally desires to feel like a goddess. "i do not call him h. r.," said grace, coldly. "it is more important to know what he calls her," observed the wise one. grace remembered what h. r. had called her. she felt herself blushing with anger. truly, the gods were kind to h. r. "coming back to our muttons, are you going to introduce us?" asked ethel vandergilt. "i'm not going to have anything to do with the affair," said grace, decisively. "aren't you?" said the wise one. it barely missed being a sneer. "why not?" asked ethel. she was the best-gowned woman in the united states. and she was _ex-officio hors concours_. grace goodchild felt the stare of twenty pairs of eyes of differing degrees of brightness, but of the same degree of unbelief. they irritated her by flattering her. no woman can concentrate when watched by other women. grace, therefore, was compelled to live up to the rôle which society had assigned to her, whether she liked it or not. when you tell a man he is wise and ask for advice, he looks as wise as he can and answers ambiguously. when you tell a woman you don't believe her she indignantly tells you the truth. "one of the reasons"--she spoke very sweetly--"is that he said my friends would ask me to do it but he did not wish me to add to his troubles." the girls were listening with their very souls, for this was inside news. grace went on: "the commission will be absolutely impartial--" "you don't know mother!" muttered ethel vandergilt. grace heard her, and she said, rebukingly, "yes, absolutely impartial and--" "are you chosen one of the hundred?" asked the wise virgin. "yes, i am!" answered grace, defiantly. "i had nothing to do with it. this whole affair is exceedingly distasteful to me." "of course!" came in a great chorus. to agree with her in that tone of voice was intolerable. grace's hatred shifted from the unspeakable h. r. to these bosom friends. if it were not that h. r. was always right, she wouldn't dislike _him_ so much. "it is not that i mind not being one of the hundred, but the not being asked to be," muttered the doll face. it was obviously what all of them minded. ethel vandergilt said: "if i could make my mother resign i'd offer my services. but she is not the resigning kind. good-by. i'm crazy to meet your h. r." well, they were welcome to him--if she made up her mind she did not want him for herself. the moment the last false friend left, grace's tolerant smile vanished. was she, in sooth, chosen number one? the papers said it was only a rumor. suppose she was not number one, after all? supposing the commission-- "i could kill him!" she hissed, and left the room. frederick came to her. "miss goodchild, there are five reporters waiting to see you." "say i'm not at home!" then she called the man back. "ask them what they want," and went up-stairs to her room. frederick returned presently and reported: "they say they will do themselves the honor to inform you in person if you will be kind enough to see them. and, miss--" he paused. he had exceeded his duty. "what is it, frederick?" asked grace, knowing that the imperturbable cockney was perturbed. "there is quite a crowd outside. they are photographing the ladies, ma'am." "what ladies?" "begging your pardon, miss vandergilt and the others, ma'am." "where?" "just in front of the door. mr. goodchild had some trouble in getting in, ma'am. he's quite vexed about it, but it wasn't my fault, ma'am," he said, forgetting that he was a menial; that is, protesting against injustice. "i couldn't help it, ma'am." "very well, frederick," she said, graciously, and descended. five reporters were politely listening to mr. goodchild's vituperations. therefore his daughter walked down the stairs as majesty descends from the dais. one of the reporters started to meet her half-way. "hey! confound you, come down!" shrieked papa. "miss goodchild, we wished to ask you if you had been chosen as the first of the perfectly beautiful hundred. now that we have seen you at close range, the question is unnecessary." she smiled slightly; then ceased to smile. the intelligent young man proceeded courteously: "will you therefore kindly tell us when the wedding will be?" all reporters are psychologists in their interrogations. the other reporters ceased listening to mr. goodchild and as politely as the circumstances permitted took out paper and pencils. when an angry man is suddenly deprived of his audience he becomes a mental assassin. mr. goodchild blamed it on h. r. "she'll never marry that infernal idiot!" he shrieked. he was the head of the house. "ah yes," said the diplomatist on the stair, looking as though he had memorized the exact words. "ah yes! june! thank you." he nodded gratefully at mr. goodchild, jotted down a date, and put the paper in his pocket. "congratulations, miss goodchild," he said to her, with profound respect, and descended. in the hall he said to his colleagues: "come on, boys. we've got the month. she _is_ number one, and--" "if you dare to print anything i'll have you fired," fumed mr. goodchild. "if you were a younger man i'd tell you to fire your grandmother, sir. but i fear me she is, alas! no more. in the mean time, mr. goodchild, will you be good enough to pose for our artist? look pleasant, please. you'll have to close your mouth to do it. wilson, you may begin filming when ready!" he said to his photographer, who had just pushed past frederick. sounds of cheering and applause came from the street. the ultra-fashionable friends of grace goodchild, having been photographed, were shaking hands with the artists and spelling their own names to the reporters. the gaping proletariate, seeing such graciousness, recognized the aristocracy of the democracy and were cheering madly. an aristocracy whose sense of humor makes it kindly is lasting. "them's real swells!" shrieked a red-headed girl who carried a large bandbox. more cheers. at that moment grace goodchild, impelled by an irresistible curiosity appeared at her door. "_there she is!_ hooray!" proudly shrieked two hundred and eighteen potential socialists, making room for bishop phillipson. hoping they were not too late for the wedding, the throngs clapped furiously. even at marriages there are encore fiends. "how do you do, my child?" inquired the bishop, with a tolerant smile. "please turn around, bishop!" shrieked the _journal_ artist. he was paid by the portrait. the bishop did so, smiled benignantly, saw the shutter open and close, and then said, deprecatingly: "i do not wish my picture taken, sir." "no, sir. will you give us another shot, bishop?" the reverend gentleman waited a moment and then shook his head and turned his back rebukingly on the photographers, who a second time had not respected his wishes. "such is fame, bishop phillipson," grace told him, with a smile. "reflected greatness, rather," said the bishop, with his courtly kindliness. "it's an infernal outrage!" came in a husky voice from the house. "it's papa. he doesn't understand--" "he and i are too old, i fear," smiled the bishop, mournfully. "and how is h. r., my dear?" she shook her head and frowned. always that person! "a most remarkable young man," pursued the bishop, congratulatorily. he had received three and one-half bushels of letters from utter strangers, commending his practical christianity and his highly intelligent plan for feeding the hungry. five vestry-men also had expressed their gratification that his name headed the list of the men who had made new york the greatest city of the hemisphere. it looked as though the hungry were to be fed. the bishop and grace moved out of the doorway to allow the reporters to pass, and were themselves about to enter the house when a sound of cheering made them halt in their tracks. a vast crowd was walking up the avenue. in the van marched one of h. r.'s free sandwiches. he was dressed in crimson broadcloth (from morton & co. as per the next morning's accounts) and he wore a shining silk hat (fox brothers, as per same in the _times_, _herald_, and _tribune_). the sandwich-board was a most gorgeous affair--a shield of burnished gold (by cellini & co., florentine frame-makers) on which were the arms of the city of new york in heraldic colors. beneath, in six-inch letters of glittering turquoise enamel, was: [illustration: the first of the perfectly beautiful is grace goodchild of fifth avenue.] in front of the goodchild mansion the stalwart free sandwich stopped, faced miss goodchild, raised his glittering top-hat, and held it in the air, beau brummelesquely. andrew barrett was immediately behind the herald of the free and intelligent people of the greatest city of the new world. a hush fell on the multitude. "speech!" shrieked andrew barrett. "speech!" shrieked twelve hundred and thirty-eight intelligent new-yorkers and seven bankers. "there's bishop phillipson!" shrilled a correctly gowned elderly lady, pointing a jeweled lorgnette at the bishop of new york. it meant the church approved. "hooray for the bishop! bishop! bishop!" "_vox populi, vox dei_," murmured the bishop to himself. "say something, my child," he gently urged grace. "after all, we may dislike the way it is done, but if the hungry are fed we may be forgiven." grace goodchild burned with desire to make a wonderful speech to prove that her greatness was her very own. they wanted her, not h. r., this time! it was _her_ triumph, not his. alas! she did not know what to say. she did not even know how to say it. she therefore shook her head angrily. "speech!" shouted the crowd, twice as vehemently as before. they always want to hear what you don't wish to say. the cameras were clicking away madly. they sounded like the telegraph-room of a national convention. five-dozen healthy young persons began chanting, rhythmically: "speech! speech! speech!--speech!--speech!" grace thought they were saying: "his peach! his peach! his peach! peach! peach!" she hotly resented the intimation of h. r.'s ownership, but the sincerity of the tribute paralyzed her. the sandwich-man had been amiably told by andrew barrett, "hold the pose, you slob!" and did so. his immobility was most impressive. his shield dazzled grace. she recalled, in a flash, geraldine farrar. she bowed to the sandwich, then to right and left, kissed her hand to the crowd of voters and not-yet voters, and ran blushing into the house. the storm of applause broke loose. the very house rocked drunkenly as the sound-waves dashed themselves against the façade. the strenuous, nerve-racking life of new york compelled the crowd to linger for an hour. it was not until they began to break off bits of the bronze railing and chip souvenirs from the portico columns that the goodchilds' butler sent a hurry call for the police. the lieutenant's official version was cold and formal. xxi the public menu commission had been having pitched battles. the public sentiment corps had been bombarding the newspapers with letters asking for the official menu, but the commission refused to be hurried by popular clamor, and said so to the reporters. their own sessions were held behind locked doors. omelette soufflée au curaçoa was definitely stricken off signor piccolini's tentative menu, on the theory that the filling was not permanent. "air is cheap," protested piccolini, "and we have to consider the expense." "but we want something that will stay by the hungry more than fifteen minutes." "then," said piccolini, scathingly, "give them sliced rubber boots." "if _you_ prepared the sauce, dear master," interjected h. r., who happened to be present, "i'd rather eat it than any other artist's filet châteaubriand aux--" piccolini bowed to him profoundly. then he shrugged his shoulders at the others. "nevertheless," he said, with conviction, "omelette soufflée--" "what can you expect from the other members?" whispered h. r. to him. "if we prolong the debate there won't be any hungry men alive to eat our dinner. yield, dear master, for the sake of humanity." then he said aloud, "let's try beans." the commission therefore reported progress and adjourned for the day. the newspapers, spurred thereto by the avalanche of letters and favorite recipes from charitable ladies in brooklyn, who gave their names, addresses, and terms per week, devoted much space to the ideal hunger-appeaser. for the first time in history new york began to take an intelligent interest in menus. everybody talked about eating as if hungarian orchestras and brazilian dances did not exist. presently the newspapers announced on unimpeachable authority that serious dissensions existed among the members of the public menu commission. it was hinted that resignations would be called for. applications for the vacant places and suggestions from really competent men poured into the editorial rooms. it made the commission, as usual, an editorial target. more space! that impelled the commission, speaking with difficulty by reason of the swollen lips of the chairman, to announce the menu. h. r. had it printed on academy board. new york, on the tiptoe of expectation to learn what an ideal hunger-appeaser would consist of, and how it could be done for twenty-five cents and how the commission could decide without bloodshed, made haste to read the menu: soup à la piccolini entrée à la hôtel regina roast à la perry vegetable à la weinpusslacher dessert à la fitz-marlton bread à la prof. preston milk à la pasteur coffee à la manhattan tea as wanted o. k. h. r., _sec._ the exact recipe of each dish would be made public after the hunger feast. it would remain a secret until then! more space! see? could the newspapers help it? didn't people have to have something to talk about? if they didn't, what could the editorial writers have to write about? knowing that talk must continue in order that interest in the hunger feast might not abate, h. r. himself went to the shops on fifth avenue. the shops elsewhere would follow the avenue fashions. he told each window-dresser the same thing. "i come to you _first_ because you are an artist concerned with color effects and striking arrangements. you also are a psychologist, since you compel people to halt on the sidewalk and then mutely induce them to use the doors. you really are the man who declares the dividends on the firm's capital stock. yes, you do, and i'll see that the big chief acknowledges it, too. now i've come to you--_first_! whatever you do will be copied. it makes you plagiarizable, and that is merely the recognition of greatness. you have the window. in order to dissociate the idea of money from your shop in the public's mind i'm going to give you a chance to prove that you are above mere money-making, which is something no fifth avenue shop ever did before. remember in this connection the psychology of the crowd and of the money they wish to spend and at the same time keep in their pockets. you and your windows are new york--the new york that draws the crowd of natives and americans. give a whole window, not to _my_ charity, but to new york's--to yours! put this menu on an easel, with a background of that wonderful velvet you had the other day--the one that killed your competitors. it was wonderful!" before the artist could draw his breath h. r. had warmly bid him good-by, leaving a menu in the astonished artist's hand. they did. it was original, as they explained to the boss. and even department-store bosses know that originality means novelty, and novelty is what new york pays for. within six hours the first edition of menus was exhausted. in every shop window in new york the public could read the public menu commission's masterpiece. cost: $ . + h. r. the undoubted possessors of perfect beauty gave more trouble than the menu, and therefore got more space in the newspapers. a regular detail of police guarded not only the allied arts building day and night, but also the honor and features of the public beauty commission. grace goodchild was compelled to make use of her neighbor's house, mrs. vantine's, in order to reach the street. she used the seventy-sixth street entrance. mrs. vantine congratulated grace each time on her deserved triumph and asked her to look at louise, her youngest. h. r. had told barrett to convey delicately to the press that the relatively young wife of one of the members of the commission had left for reno. no name was mentioned. therefore the portraits of all the male members were impartially published. a neat little interrogation-mark after each name did _not_ constitute libel. the commissioners were thereafter compelled to be particularly nice to their own wives in public. the theatrical profession howled individually, collectively, in person, in writing, by telephone, and through press agents. nightly these favorites would ask, more or less nasally and slightly below pitch, whether they were not perfectly beautiful, and gave the audience the opportunity to judge of fifteen-sixteenths of their persons. and the unanimous reply was, "you are!"--from the claque. it became the topic of the day, and as such divided families and parted friends. at the end of three days h. r. diabolically announced that only sixty-eight had been selected. "aren't there one hundred perfectly beautiful girls in greater new york?" he feverishly asked the reporters. "aren't there?" the literary misogynists propounded the same query--in the head-lines, at that! on the very morning that saw that insulting question printed it was estimated by one of the newspapers that , answered, "present." it was probably an exaggeration, as there doubtless was some repeating. the public beauty commission added fourteen to the list of utter pulchritudes. names, addresses, and portraits duly printed. elderly persons signing william h. p. or james g. c. in feminine hand-writing asked the most conservative newspapers whether there was nothing else fit to print but the disgusting travesty on charity or the appalling vulgarity of immodest females. the newspapers printed the letters. one of them, an afternoon sheet, stopped printing names and portraits of the successful. it stopped for one issue. the circulation department interviewed the city department. the paper went back, under a new city editor, to the business of printing all the news that was fit to print. the public demanded it. on sunday all the newspapers published the full list of one hundred perfectly beautiful girls who alone would sell tickets admitting the holder to the mammoth hunger feast in the capacity of spectator. one to each customer; no more. on monday they printed a facsimile of h. r.'s ticket. [illustration] no. was a coupon to be detached by the seller. it was in the nature of both wages and a vote to show which was the perfectest of the perfect. it would mean the only fair election ever held in america. only one ticket to each customer. there would be no rich man buying tickets by the thousand, no stuffing of the ballot-boxes by the gallant commander of a militia regiment, no undue influence on the part of high political officials. no man could resist a perfectly beautiful girl who asked him to buy one ticket for a quarter of a dollar, twenty-five cents. no bribing by kisses was necessary. the rest of the ticket was retained by the buyer. it bought what the masses were beginning to speak of as the dandy belly-filler for a hungry person who was warranted not to have any money. no. coupon was to be detached by the doorkeeper at madison square garden and returned to the ticket-buyer. if the holder of said coupon exercised his or her brains he or she would receive ten thousand dollars in cash. conditions governing the collection of said ten thousand dollars would be published on saturday morning. it would _not_ be a lottery. it now behooved charitable new-yorkers to buy the tickets which would feed all hungry persons who positively had no money to buy food with, and at the same time receive ten thousand dollars in cash, brains being present--all for twenty-five cents. the ten thousand would be paid in cash, with united states treasury notes obtained from the national bank of the avenue. this insured their genuineness. on monday the perfectly beautiful started. it was, fittingly, a perfectly beautiful day. in automobiles (makers' names given, since it was for charity) decked with beautiful flowers (donating florists also honorably mentioned in the public prints, and paid advs. besides) the perfectly beautiful hundred went forth to appeal to the great heart of new york. they were indeed beautiful. at least the men, being blind and possessing the suffrage, thought so. why, they even clamored to be allowed to buy. and found ways and means of repeating. they never can vote honorably. the newspapers reported that by p.m. , tickets had been sold. also they announced twenty-three engagements of perfectly beautiful ticket-sellers. grace goodchild's name led the list. this time mr. goodchild did not deny it. the reporters refused to listen to him, damn 'em! on tuesday the receipts fell on. only , were sold. no engagements. on wednesday the sales rose. the _offers_ of marriage aggregated , . sixteen engagements of poor but perfectly beautiful girls to rich but devilishly wise old men! a truly remarkable thing happened. everybody ceased to be concerned with the sales of tickets or the object thereof. crowds before the newspaper offices patiently watched for announcements of fresh betrothals. every time one went on the bulletin-board the spectators cheered as if it were a home run instead of a prospective marriage. the betrothed reported to h. r. that they found the display of the solitaires interfered with the sales of tickets. he advised them to remove it. they refused. "well," he said, coldly, "the one who sells the most tickets will be declared the most beautiful of the hundred. of course you don't care what men think of your looks so long as one man thinks you are the most beautiful. he must, since he is your fiancé. by all means show the solitaire. i respect your modesty. besides, it keeps you from receiving offers that you cannot, with honor, entertain." they therefore removed their engagement-rings during business hours. in thursday's papers were printed the facsimile of a certified check for ten thousand dollars signed by h. r. it was a sample prize. all checks would be exchanged for cash before the hunger feast began. _save your coupons!_ this was already the commercial slogan of a great nation. on friday h. r., knowing that even perfectly beautiful girls cannot hold the attentive interest of new york unless infractions of the seventh commandment are provided in relays, gave out a statement for the newspapers. the newspapers not only printed it, but featured it. heretofore [said h. r.] when charitable folks have given money to organized charity they have never been able to feel certain that the money went to the right people. organized charity has been compelled to be careful. while the merits of the case were under investigation it has frequently happened that the case has died of starvation. now, genuine destitution needs not life-insurance examination, but common sense and ordinary christianity on the jump. we have undertaken to feed the hungry who have no money to buy food with. if anybody out of the thousands who will be fed by us is proven to be an undeserving object of our charity i will give one hundred thousand dollars par value in gilt-edged securities to any organized charity approved by mr. george g. goodchild, president of the ketcham national bank, who, being my prospective father-in-law against his wishes, will be glad to have me lose the money. modern methods of efficiency have been applied to charity for the first time. hence this meal, scientifically studied, artistically concocted, digestible, delicious, and filling. there will be no graft, no throwing away of the public's nobly given money, no dietetic fads, no scientific sawdust, no waste, no salaries, no fraudulent hungers, no inhumanity, no maudlin sentiment, nothing but common sense now first applied to charity by new york. the mammoth hunger feast, marking an era in the life of the great metropolis, will begin at . p.m. in order to give time for all ticket-holders to dine at home. well-fed new-yorkers will therefore be able to see with their own eyes how starving people eat--people who have no money to buy food with. before each ticket-holder takes the seat to which he is entitled he, or more probably she, will receive ten thousand dollars in cash, by simply using brains. let us see if new-yorkers are as clever as they are charitable. also, i shall marry grace goodchild in june. [signed] h. r. a great many people announce an epoch-making idea and expect the world to remember it ever thereafter. h. r. knew that, living in a republic, he must iterate, reiterate, repeat, and sign every time. on saturday morning the ninety-nine other perfectly beautiful girls were engaged. grace goodchild, when asked point-blank if she were engaged to h. r., now answered, "do you see any engagement-ring?" then she held up her slim and beautiful hands. no ring. all told, , tickets had been sold. it was plain that repeating had been indulged in. the fair sellers could not be blamed. "if susceptible men have bought more than one ticket," h. r. said to the reporters, "they need not think they will get more than ten thousand dollars. but the fact remains that we have more than enough money." this entitled h. r. to the respect of the most conservative dailies. and, moreover, he paid full rates for a half-page in which he printed this advertisement: hungry people who can't buy food because they have no money will receive a fine dinner free by going to madison square garden to-night before . . fourth avenue entrance. no matter how you came to be hungry and penniless; no matter what your life has been or what your religion now is; no matter what your habits are or what your political opinions may be, without regard to your jail record, disease, state of mind, or favorite newspaper, if you are hungry and have no money, come and eat! to the public: come and see them eat your tickets! under the auspices of the society of american sandwich artists. h. r., _sec._ sponsors: the men who have made new york what it is! then followed three hundred and seventeen famous names. "what i have to say," h. r. modestly told the reporters, "i have stated in my advertisement. however, if you wish to ask any questions, or if you think the public is interested in any particular point--" "it is! we do!" exclaimed the reporters. "tell us about the ten thousand dollars!" "it is very simple and very easy," said h. r., with the deadly earnestness of a man who knows he will not be believed when he speaks the truth in new york. "as each person passes the ticket-taker he will go, coupon in hand, into the superintendent's office. there he will be asked one question. it is not a catch question. no puns permitted. no double meaning. no particularly deep or recondite significance. it is a plain question, vital to the welfare of all new-yorkers, affecting the destiny of the american nation. the answer is perfectly obvious. the mayor has been invited to be present, and he will see to it that no fraud is perpetrated on the thousands of people who have bought tickets in good faith--" "i thought the object of the tickets was to feed hungry--" began a serious-eyed reporter. "it is; but charity carries a reward in cash. it is the modern way. you might add that there will be no reserved seats, no privileged classes. where all men are alike charitable, all men are equal before god and man!" napoleon revolutionized the art of war by moving quickly and overwhelming the foe with artillery. h. r. made charity a success by appealing not alone to the charitable instinct of new-yorkers, but to every other instinct he could think of. therefore everybody who was not hungry logically decided to go to the mammoth hunger feast. the newspapers printed long and reassuring accounts of the police arrangements. h. r., being a republican at heart, had reserved the imperial box for grace goodchild and her friends, and ninety-nine royal boxes for the other ticket-sellers and their fiancés. his free sandwich men occupied the front row of arena seats and had been coached by the leader of the grand opera claque. at a given signal they were to cheer grace goodchild. when the bugle announced h. r.'s entrance they were to go crazy. ten beers _after_ the show. xxii at half after seven that night h. r., accompanied by eighteen contemporary historians and six magazine psychological portraitists, went to the entrance of the hungry. it was in the rear of the garden and was dark and narrow. symbolism! it was the same entrance that a few weeks previously had admitted the circus's beasts; only the beasts were not hungry. fourth avenue seethed with humanity. a blind man afflicted with stone deafness could have told that hungry people were there provided his nose worked. the street-cars had stopped running at . p.m., after the twenty-seventh accident. the crowd was orderly and silent, as really hungry people are. and they had good manners, as the physically weak always have. and they were not impatient, for the prospect of eating always makes the starving hopeful. a merciful darkness covered the hideousness of ten thousand faces. the reporters began to fidget like nervous women at a military play just before the execution. h. r., seizing the exact psychological moment, said to the reporters: "let us press the button!" it is the modern way--the press and the pressure. he pressed the button. it turned on the lights of an electric sign hung above the entrance. the starving men read in blazing letters: if you are hungry and have no money walk in! by their light the reporters were able to see the faces of the crowd plainly. "my god!" said the young man from the _times_. the dazzling invitation was so worded as to prevent unseemly haste and unnecessary crowding. it said, "_walk_ in." "it is easy to assume, gentlemen," said h. r., calmly, to the reporters, "that all these people are hungry." "yes, let 'em all in!" entreated those reporters who were not jotting down impressions. h. r. shook his head sternly. "we have our duty to the public to perform. we must determine whether they have no money." "your duty is to feed them _all_," said the _sun_ man. "you can't afford to make a single mistake. did you see that white-haired woman--" "come with me, gentlemen," cut in h. r., leading the way within. streams of people began to flow in at each entrance, sedately; four big policemen, representing the majesty of the law, stood, two on either side of each entrance. the majesty was of locust wood, held in the air, ready to descend on the cranium of the lawless and even of the ill-mannered. as the starving entered the door they found themselves in a passageway with sides of heavy plank that narrowed until they were walking in single file, just as they do in abattoirs and sheep-dipping pens. one by one they thus came. there was a small inclosure on one side of the passage. there stood h. r. and his reporters. beside them was a small table. a heap of shining silver quarters was on the table in plain sight of all. h. r. asked the first man, "are you hungry?" "yes. i haven't had a bite in--" h. r. held up a hand to check the autobiography. he inquired, sternly: "got any money?" "nope." "sure?" "yep." the reporters began to sneer. what did this h. r., who was said to be clever, expect such people to answer? that's the trouble with all wealthy philanthropists. they are damned fools. they don't know human nature nor their own compatriots. "do you want a quarter?" asked h. r., kindly, at the same time lifting a big handful of silver to show there was plenty. "you bet!" "wouldn't you rather have a dollar?" asked h. r. he picked up four quarters and jingled them in his open palm by bouncing them up and down in the air, gently, invitingly. the man stared at h. r. and refused to answer. it must be a trap! "don't you or do you? speak quickly!" said h. r., impatiently. "of course!" "you'll have to let us search you to see how much you've got on you if you really want a dollar instead of the quarter." "say, yous--" began the man. "frisk him!" "to hell with your dollar," said the man, defiantly clapping one hand to his pocket. "i knew it was a plant!" "this way," politely said the plain-clothes men, leading away the pauper who didn't wish to be searched. the colloquy had not been overheard by the other hungry guests. the man was led into a storeroom, where he was kept so that he might not empty his pockets and come in again from the street for the dollar he did not really want. "you see how we will eliminate those who have money and--" but the reporters were not listening to h. r. they were too busy writing. this man was no philanthropist. he was intelligent. there were some guests who said they objected to the indignity of being searched, though they had no money. they joined the first man in the storeroom. "no taxpayers' subterfuges tolerated," h. r. said. but most of the hungry were perfectly willing to be searched and prove they had no money. they were told by h. r. to pass on. to those who asked for the money h. r. said, sternly: "do you wish to swallow a quarter or do you want to eat food?" they grumbled. they were human. they passed on. they were hungry. having shown the reporters how the undoubted penury of the deserving hungry was established, h. r. led them into the presence of the infallible booze-detector. "yes, but when those poor people said they were willing to be searched and thereby prove they had no money, i notice you didn't give 'em the quarter," observed young mr. lubin of the _onward_. "we never promised to give money. we asked them if they wanted a quarter and then if they wouldn't prefer a dollar." "yes. but you cruelly raised their hopes," remonstrated lubin. "these are human beings--" "and we are going to fill their bellies," interrupted h. r. "giving _money_ to those who haven't any simply perpetuates capitalism besides alienating the christian vote. we _share_ food. that's socialism. we do not give alms. that's insulting. besides, we do not own the quarters. they're borrowed." lubin was silenced. that silence from the socialist reporter was h. r.'s greatest triumph thus far. as the penniless guests left the glittering heap of stage quarters unsearched they walked on along a gallery. at the end of it was another glittering electric sign. it said: this way if you are hungry! the hungry walked on eagerly. a few feet from the door that led into the arena where the waiting tables were they had to pass by a wide-open door. within, in plain sight of the passers-by, was a long bar. behind the bar were white-jacketed bartenders. the beer-kegs formed an inspiring background. on the bar itself stood dozens of big schooners--full. above the bar could be read: free beer! frei! gratis! a few walked on--straight to the dining-hall. but every one who walked into the free-beer room was told to go through a door on the left. "that way!" a policeman told the thirsty. the first man who went into the inner room found a policeman standing beside a table on which were a dozen full schooners. "if you drink now you don't eat," courteously said the cop. "kismet!" said the starving man, and reached for a schooner. "it's for _after_ eating!" gently warned the policeman. "life is uncertain. i'll drink now and--" "this way!" the policeman now spoke in his regular voice. he led the thirsty out of the room by another door which led into still another room used for storing the heavy circus impedimenta. "do you see?" asked h. r., sweetly, to the reporters and the students of sociology from the magazines. "do you?" "mr. rutgers, columbus and his egg had nothing on you," said the earnest young theorist from the _evening post_. the others were busily turning out literature. "it won't cheat 'em out of a meal," h. r. whispered to young mr. lubin from the _onward_. "but they don't eat with the others." that is how h. r. kept his promise to the business men of new york. he had circumvented fraud, which is the chief aim of modern charity. also he had discouraged the formation of a professional pauper class--the one danger against which all commonwealths must guard. "i'd like to know what you are going to do with the culls," the _sun_ man asked h. r. he had of late been trying to elevate the tone of the magazines with real fiction; which they refused to print. "those who fell through thirst will be fed later," h. r. answered. "and those that wouldn't be searched? they looked mighty hungry to me." he was an expert in hunger. it drove him out of literature. "we'll sell the left-over meals to them at cost. we are intelligent philanthropists. we shall now have a beer, gentlemen, and let us pass on." that beer had taken on a subtle quality of exclusiveness. all the reporters drank with gusto. xxiii at eight sharp the main entrance of the garden was thrown open. the reporters promptly noted that the crowd of sight-seers exceeded the number of the hungry. it restored their belief in republican institutions. as each ticket-holder presented his ticket he demanded the instant return of the ten-thousand-dollar coupon. even the skeptics who knew they'd never get the ten thousand dollars did this. the coupon-holder was then ushered into the superintendent's office, in which sat the mayor of new york, the presidents of seven banks, the proprietors of six hotels, one united states senator, h. r., and the reporters. behind them was a large frame inclosing stretched white oil-cloth. printed thereon in large black letters was this: you will be asked one question. you will have ten seconds in which to answer. brain-capacity is measured by the quickness of psychological association. if you can't answer in ten seconds, you are not entitled to the $ , in cash. as the first coupon-holder entered h. r. rose and took from his pocket a huge roll of bills, all yellow-backs. he carelessly peeled off one of them and with a bow handed it to the mayor. everybody sat up straight. his honor looked at it. it was for ten thousand dollars. he nodded and then silently passed it to a bank president, who in turn examined it, nodded, and passed it on to a colleague. the reporters pressed forward. "experts in all kinds of small change," smiled h. r., pointing to the bankers. the reporters' eyes followed the return of the ten-thousand-dollar bill to the mayor. they also decided that h. r.'s roll was the most impressive demonstration of brute strength ever seen in new york. then h. r. asked his question, slowly, distinctly, enunciating carefully and smiling the while: "what is it we have all heard about from earliest childhood and that we acknowledge exists; that is neither a person nor a beast, neither a thing nor an object, but something that no man can kill, though it is dead to-day; that all men need and most new-yorkers neglect; that should be present everywhere and is found in no trade? the answer is a word of five letters and begins with a--the first letter of the alphabet, the first of the five vowels. there is another word, a synonym, which is now obsolescent, though it is at times used in poetry. but while either word will win the ten thousand dollars in cash now in the custody of the mayor of new york, the word i particularly have in mind has five letters, of which the first is appropriately a, the alpha of the greeks, the aleph of the hebrews, and now the first of all the alphabets of european languages. it is logically the first letter because it is the first sound that man naturally makes--'a' or 'ah!' the first letter! what is the word of five letters beginning with a that will give you ten thousand dollars? with 'a'! _now!_" stop-watch in hand, h. r. began to move his left arm up and down like a referee at a prize-fight. he had astutely emphasized the fact that the word had five letters, of which the first was a. the mind of the coupon-holder was thus made to study the dictionary instead of thinking about the question itself. it was inevitable as fate itself. the first man could not guess. neither could the second nor any of the thousands. but before the applicant's indignation at the unfairness of the question and the shortness of the time could grow into fury h. r. exclaimed, "time's up." approaching the non-guesser, he whispered: "the name of the unsuccessful will _not_ be given to the newspapers. not by _us_! i thank you in the name of the poor starving people whose lives you have prolonged. that way to the seats. you can have your pick of the very best!" in that simple way was bloodshed and the cry of fraud averted at one and the same time. h. r. then delegated the task of propounding the aureate question to a dozen lieutenants. without varying one word the lieutenants asked the men whose charity would feed the starving. not one won the ten thousand dollars. one of the reporters with the air of a man whose life depends upon the bulletin-board asked h. r.: "what's the answer?" the others heard h. r. reply: "ten thousand dollars in cash!" "yes; but the word?" "it is worth ten thousand of my dollars. you can make them yours." "i guess it's a fake." "that begins with an 'f.' mine begins with an 'a.' the mayor has the cash." the reporter looked at the mayor. his honor's lips were moving inaudibly. he was going over all the words of five letters that began with an "a." among them was _agony_. lubin again looked at the ten-thousand-dollar yellow-back and at h. r. and suddenly rushed out. on the way he collected nine erudite friends. they went to the nearest branch of the public library. each got a dictionary and divided all the definitions under "a" into nine parts. nothing doing! "i knew it was a fraud!" yelled the _onward_ man. "it isn't in the dictionary." he fairly flew back to the garden. h. r. was just about to go into the arena. lubin yelled: "there is no such word in the dictionary. i protest against this--" "you talk like an old-school republican," said h. r., coldly, to lubin. it killed speech in the young man. the mayor clenched his right fist tightly. the ten-thousand-dollar treasury note lay crumpled within. "sir," said h. r. to him, with real dignity, "you have my word that the word _is_ in the dictionary." the mayor, naturally thinking of political consequences, spoke, "of course, mr. rutgers, i expect you to prove it." "sir, i shall see to it that you are re-elected!" h. r. said this so positively that his honor blushed guiltily. "i am not stupid enough to endeavor to perpetrate so transparent a fraud as this young man charges me with. but it would be even greater stupidity to be unfair to honest guessers by telling mr. lubin or anybody else what the word is. it is of five letters and begins with an 'a' and it is in the dictionary. but i will tell you, your honor, and you, mr. lubin, what i will do. i shall ask the question and give the answer to a man who will say whether it is a fair question and whether the word is a fair answer. his decision will be final. he will not, i am sure, send for the ten thousand dollars after he hears the answer." the mayor shook his head dubiously. "who is the man?" mr. lubin, being young, went much further. "there is no man in new york whose word--" "silence, sir! i know the man. if he says that the word answers the question, everybody in new york will be convinced--socialists, democrats, republicans, progressives, suffragists, newspaper editors, and all." "there can't be such a man," said lubin, decisively. h. r. smiled and turned to the mayor. "your honor, the man whom i will ask to vouch for my honesty and intelligence after i have confidentially disclosed the word to him, is the cardinal archbishop of new york. his word will be enough, i take it." the mayor beamed and said, "certainly, mr. rutgers." he made up his mind then and there that h. r. must conduct his campaign for re-election. "even young mr. lubin, i take it, will not doubt the word of his eminence." lubin was no fool. "mr. rutgers," he said, earnestly, "we hate our enemies, the capitalists. but we respect the only foes who are fighting us as we are fighting capitalism with honest convictions and real ardor. of course, we think the catholics--" "hold on, lubin," said h. r., "that policeman's name is flannery." lubin explained: "i was afraid you were going to give us a banker, mr. rutgers." "_never!_" said h. r. so emphatically that lubin extended his right hand. they shook warmly. a sound of applause came to their ears. the mayor flushed with vexation. it was premature, he thought. he was wrong. it was grace goodchild. andrew barrett ran in excitedly. "did you hear it?" he asked his chief. "say, she is smiling to beat the band and the crowd is going crazy. hear that?" and he began to dance a jig. h. r. seized him by the arm and said: "in exactly two minutes i shall enter." andrew barrett rushed away to tip on the _vox populi_. "gentlemen," said h. r. to the reporters, "you had better go in." they obeyed him. they were escorted to their table on the stage. they found there seven military bands that had volunteered their services and also their own weapons. in the background of the stage was a huge placard: fifty thousand people can be served, fed, and fired in - / minutes by our system! s. a. s. a., dept. t. o. k. h. r., _sec._ at each reporter's place was a typewritten sheet containing intelligent statistics of this stupendous charity. the reporters saw in the arena long strings of tables, each six hundred and eighteen feet long, and benches to match. each guest was allowed nineteen and one-half inches. the dishes were of water-proofed paper stamped s. a. s. a. above each table were aluminum-painted pipes with faucets every ten seats for soup, milk, tea, and coffee. "by keeping the tea, coffee, and soup in circulation wholesome warm drinks are secured," read the official statement, "besides obviating the assistance of eight hundred and sixteen waiters, who would have had to walk an aggregate of six hundred and seventy-seven miles from tables to kitchen." the solid food was brought to the scores of small serving-tables by means of overhead conveyors and traveling-cranes, a sort of gigantic cash-carrier system operated by electricity. the food came in individual covered dishes, also of water-proofed paper. everything was automatic. the s. a. s. a. system prevented spilling, waste, delay, inefficient waiters, and the dissatisfaction of the guests. "you will observe," went on the official statement, "that for the first time in history the beneficiaries of the bounty of their fellow-men are treated as honored cash guests and not compelled to wait. the bread of charity is hard, but not when served by the s. a. s. a." leaflets containing much the same information had been placed in each of the thousands of seats in the garden in lieu of programs. as each man entered he saw the pipes and the traveling-cranes and the mechanical waiters, and read the placard on the stage. "ain't it great?" inquired every charitable ticket-buyer. "_in six and three-quarter minutes!_ no regiments of waiters. everything automatic. say, that h. r. is a wonder!" it naturally took some time before they remembered to look at the starving people who were sitting at the long tables waiting to be fed. they saw haggard faces, sunken-eyed, pale-lipped men and women and children. they saw trembling hands that fidgeted with knives and forks that were obviously unnecessary. they saw women at the tables trying to still whining children. they saw gray-haired heads fallen on soup-plates utterly exhausted from inanition. they saw starving and penniless human beings by the thousand. and the spectators, hosts of these guests, ran over the faces and the forms of the men and women and children--all alike in that all were hungry and all were penniless. and the same thought struck them all, and they expressed it audibly, with gusto, as though they were original thinkers, with the modesty of professional epigrammatists. all the spectators said: "say, it will be great to see them eat!" new york's great big heart had spoken in no uncertain accents! "and the greatest of these is charity." xxiv just after the applause that greeted grace goodchild's arrival had begun to subside, and the public was about to demand that the feast, for which they had paid, begin a bugle blew. h. r., who was fame since he was initials, entered the arena. instantly the well-trained public sentiment corps began to shout, angrily: "_sit_ down! _sit down!_" that, as intended by h. r., made all rise to their feet. then, and only then, did h. r. advance into the arena, followed by the mayor of the city of new york, the bishop of the diocese of the same, and the other dignitaries. the applause that came from the members of the society of american sandwich artists was not applause. it was fervor, frenzy, fury. they yelled and shouted with the enthusiastic recklessness of free men who knew that after their throats went dry ten beers, also free, would cure. the audience, seeing and hearing their fellow-men applaud, felt themselves left out of something. they were free men. they therefore also applauded, even more frenziedly. no beers; not even knowledge; merely insistence upon political equality! in front of the goodchild box h. r., whose progress resembled buffalo bill's minus the curls, paused. he looked intently at grace goodchild. she knew something was expected of her--something spectacular, thrilling, befitting the imperial consort. she stared back at h. r. agonizedly. couldn't he prompt her? what was she to do, and how and when? "grace! grace! grace!" shouted the free sandwiches. instantly as well as instinctively the other ninety-nine beautiful perfections rose in their boxes and waved their handkerchiefs. the crowd, drawn thither by one of the noblest charities of the age, went wild. grace was rich! she was theirs! they cheered what belonged to them! grace goodchild, actually urged by her aristocratic friends, rose and bowed to h. r. with a queenly air. h. r. bowed low to her and walked on. when he reached the stage all the bands began to play the national anthem almost together. a huge american flag was dropped from the middle of the roof to remind new york what its nationality was. when the bands finished playing there flashed a dazzling electric sign over the stage. in huge letters of light the people read: well done, new york! h. r. the great building rocked under the applause. new york can always be trusted to applaud itself. the lights of the sign went out. h. r. motioned to his stage-manager. in the back of the stage the curtain that told of the wonderful feeding system-- , people, - / minutes!--fell. a hush also fell on the audience, for back of it was another white sheet on which everybody read: watch your guests eat you are feeding them! h. r. the audience, metamorphosed against its will into charitable hosts, now remembered the starving fellow-beings who were there to eat. h. r. motioned. a bugler advanced to the front of the stage and sounded, _charge_! the soup began to pour out of the faucets. in fourteen seconds , cups of steaming soup _à la piccolini_ were before the guests. the audience applauded madly. it was perfectly wonderful what charity could do--in fourteen seconds! the guests were very hungry. the soup, however, was very hot. this made the drinking audible to the remotest recesses of the garden. again the bugle blew. the charitable crowd instantly ceased to look at their guests and gazed at the electric traveling-cranes carrying laden trays. over six thousand well-fed spectators pulled out their watches and timed the entrée. it took twenty-nine seconds to place the entrée before the guests. "quick work!" said the watch-holders, approvingly. it took the guests much less than twenty-nine seconds to eat the entrée. the bugle blew for the third time. the roast appeared. the rear curtain dropped. behind it was another on which could be read, without the aid of binoculars: watch them eat! your ticket did it! h. r. it happened exactly as h. r. had told bishop phillipson. each charitable person thought of his particular ticket and looked for his individual guest among the , . each charitable person felt that his twenty-five cents had made possible the entire feast. at that moment h. r. could have been elected to any office within the gift of a free and sturdy people. the guests began to eat more slowly. the hosts, filled with kindliness and the desire to help their fellow-men by getting their money's worth, began to shout: "keep it up!" "go on!" "eat away!" "fill up! fill up!" "it's free! it's free!" charity is not dead, but sleepeth. when it awakens, it is ruthless. presently men and women at the tables, who had thought they were in paradise surrounded by angels, began to throw up their hands and shake their heads helplessly. a storm of hisses greeted the ingratitude. fat hosts began to shout: "fakes!" "fraud!" "take 'em out!" in self-defense some of the guests began to rub their paunches. here and there those who remembered close experiences with christian mobs rose in their benches ostentatiously, let out their belts, and sat down again determinedly. the hosts clapped madly. they understood, and therefore forgave. then the hosts began to think that fifteen cents would have been enough. the bugle blew. dessert was served. it was determinedly put away. having convicted themselves of both charity and extravagance, each host felt that he was not only a philanthropist but a new-yorker. the bugle blew again. the paper dishes were gathered up, and also such of the knives and forks as the guests had not put in their pockets. the trays were whisked away by the traveling-cranes. suddenly all the lights went out. with the utter darkness a hush fell upon the vast audience. then from all the bands came a mighty crashing chord. instantly there blazed an electric sign that stretched from one side of the garden to the other above the stage. and both hosts and guests saw an american flag in red, white, and blue lights, and below it, in letters ten feet high, they read: and the greatest of these is charity h. r. everybody cheered, for everybody agreed with the sentiment. some even thought it was original. then all the lights were turned on again. the tables were carried away by the cranes. the guests, directed by h. r.'s lieutenants, formed in line and paraded around the garden. the lame, the old, the young, the hopeless, the wicked, the maimed--all who had hungered--marched jauntily round the vast arena that their benefactors might see who it was that really had made the mammoth hunger feast a success. they carried their heads erect, proudly, conscious of their importance in the world. the benefactors thereupon cheered the beneficiaries. by so doing they showed what they thought of the benefactors. it was none the less noble! the reporters looked at their watches. a full page on saturday night is no laughing matter to the make-up man. one of them rose and asked h. r.: "is this all? we've got to write--" "it is _not_ all!" answered h. r., and motioned to the trumpeter, who instantly blew the siegfried motif. the crowd looked stageward. the rear drop-curtain showed in high letters: dancing! the guests hesitated. the curtain was lowered a few feet. above "dancing!" the crowd now read: free of charge! everybody started for the floor. h. r. left the stage and walked into the goodchild box. grace had been receiving congratulations all the evening until she had convinced herself that this was her dinner. it was all h. r. could do to force his way through the plutocracy in the imperial box. talking to grace at the same time were three young men who never before had accepted mrs. goodchild's invitations to marry grace. but grace was now the most-talked-of girl in all new york. and she was officially very beautiful and goodchild _père_ was not enough. and grace was very kind to all of them. all empresses are kindly when they haven't dyspepsia or dynamite dreams. all unpleasant things seem to begin with a "d." there is death and damnation; also duty. mr. goodchild frowned when he saw h. r. in the box. but when he saw that h. r. never even looked at him he became really angry. mrs. goodchild looked alarmed and hissed, "don't you talk to him, grace!" grace, knowing herself desired by the most eligible young men in her set, decided to squelch h. r. in public. h. r., however, walked past everybody, looking neither to left nor right. feeling themselves treated as so many chairs or hat-racks, the élite of new york began to feel like intruders. then, as an imperial mandate is given, h. r. said to miss goodchild: "we're needed!" he offered her his arm. the young men rose and made room for him. duty called, and they never interfered with duty. grace hypnotically obeyed, for h. r. was frowning. together they walked down to the floor of the garden. the public sentiment corps did their duty. they had not yet received the beer. they shouted, frenziedly: "h. r.! h. r.! h. r.!" the public took up the cheering. thousands of outstretched hands reached out for his. but h. r. merely bowed, right and left, and walked to the middle of the floor. "smile at them!" he whispered, fiercely, to grace. she did. she knew then what it was to be a queen. she felt an overpowering kindliness toward all these delightful, simple people. reggie was not brilliant, but that wasn't expected of a van duzen. she did not love reggie, but she _liked_ him. as mrs. van duzen she would always have what she liked. she would never marry h. r.! it was preposterous. the band began to play. the crowd, instead of dancing, moved toward the sides--to give h. r. room to dance. never before on manhattan island had such a triumph of personality fallen to the lot of any man. h. r. put his arm about grace goodchild. she shrank from the symbolism of bondage. "the world is looking on!" he admonished her. knowing that she danced very well, she now had but one fear--that her partner might make her ridiculous. but h. r. was the best dancer she had ever honored. she felt her resolution not to marry him slipping away. he led divinely. she felt that she herself had never danced so well in her life. he brought out the best that was in her. "ever try the rutgers roll?" he whispered, tensely. "n-no! she gasped. "let yourself go!" when a woman lets herself go, all is over except the terms of the capitulation. she let herself go desperately, because she was forced to do it; fearfully, because of the appalling possibility of a fiasco. she did not know how it was done. she had looped the loop and was still dancing away--a new but unutterably graceful undulation of torso and rhythmical leg work and exquisite sinuous motions of the arms and hands. a storm of applause came to her ears, a hurricane steeped in saccharine. a man who could dance like that was fit to be any girl's husband! the élite flocked on the floor and began to indulge in old-fashioned specialties, some of which were nearly a fortnight old. you heard delighted remarks: "that's mrs. vandergilt!" "there goes reggie van duzen!" "look at katherine van schaick!" then the new york that americans call ruffianly, impolite, vulgar, selfish, spendthrift, money-loving, self-satisfied, and stupid, also began to dance decorously! the veteran reporters did not believe their eyes, but they made a note of the fact, nevertheless. grace was nearly out of breath. she said, "i'm--i'm--i'm--" "certainly, dear girl." and h. r. deftly piloted her out of the crush. they stopped dancing, and he gave her his arm. she took it. "grace," he said, "when will you marry me?" "never!" she answered, determinedly. "and you must not call me grace." "right-o!" he said, gratefully. "i'll call to-morrow afternoon. shall i speak to bishop phillipson, or will father--" "i said _never_!" she frowned. "i heard you," he smiled, reassuringly. "i--" andrew barrett and the reporters came up to him. "what about the men that fell for the beer?" "oh, give 'em the left-over grub, if you boys think it's right. but don't print it. the w. c. t. u. would howl at the thought of giving food to people who had first wanted booze." grace looked on, marveling at the way he ordered things done and at the way men listened to his words. "but what about that ten-thousand-dollar cash to the coupon-holders?" asked young mr. lubin, finally taking his eyes off the beautiful capitalist. feeling that he was beginning to condone with capitalistic crimes, he spoke sternly to h. r. in self-defense. "oh yes!" said h. r. and turned to grace. "my dear, i'll have to leave you. shall i take you to mother?" reggie van duzen saved him the trip. "say, mr. rutgers, could i have--" "yes, my boy!" gratefully smiled h. r. he shook hands with reggie and said, very seriously, "_i leave her in your care!_" reggie, who was very young and careless, flushed proudly. here was a man who understood men! he would protect grace with his life. and it gave him a new respect for other women. "i don't blame you, grace," he said, with his twelve-year-old's smile that clung to him through life and made even poor people like him. "he is a wonder! beekman rutgers had the nerve to tell me that all the rutgerses are like h. r. what do you think of that?" grace answered, "certainly not!" she was not going to marry h. r., but if you intend to have it known that you have refused to marry a man who is crazy to marry you, the greater the man the greater the refusal. she added, with conviction: "there is only one rutgers like that and his first name is hendrik." reggie nodded, looked at her, sighed, and began to dance. he didn't touch h. r. as a dancer. "can you do the rutgers roll?" she asked. "no!" he confessed. she could never marry reggie. she knew it now. but of course she would not marry h. r. in the mean time h. r., accompanied by the reporters, drove to the cardinal's residence. they explained their mission to a pleasant-faced young priest and sent in their cards. the young priest began to make excuses and spoke of the lateness of the hour. h. r. said to him, deferentially: "monsignor, we have come to the cardinal because he is the supreme authority in this case. the mayor of new york and the representative of the socialist press, mr. lubin, here, have agreed to leave it to the decision of his eminence." the cardinal sent back word that he would see mr. rutgers. h. r. went in alone. he saw not the head of the catholic hierarchy, but a man in whose eyes was that light which comes from believing in god and from hearing the truth from fellow-men who told him their sins. h. r. bowed respectfully before the aged priest. "how may i help you? asked the cardinal. he was an old man and this was a young man. no more; no less; both of them children. "your eminence, i am the unfortunate american who in his misguided way has tried to feed the hungry in order that new york's grown children may realize that charity is not dead. if i have used the methods of a mountebank it is because i have labored where god had been forgotten, almost." "generalities are not always verities, though they may come close to them. i know about your work. i shall be glad to do what i can for you." "thank you, sir. i promised to give ten thousand dollars in cash to any new-yorker who could answer this question: what is it we have all heard about from earnest childhood and that we acknowledge exists; that is neither a person nor a beast, neither a thing nor an object, but something that no man can kill, though it is dead to-day; that all men need and most new-yorkers neglect; that should be present everywhere and is found in no trade? the answer is a word of five letters and begins with 'a.' there is a synonym that, though not exactly obsolete, is at least obsolescent." "five letters? is it in english?" smiled the cardinal. "it is in every good english dictionary. i think the dictionary is the only place in which i can find it nowadays." "oh no, my son." and the cardinal shook his head in kindly dissent. "reverend sir, i said anybody with brains could guess it." "it was not an ingenuous question, mr. rutgers." "it was a coupon that entitled anybody who held it to answer the question and get ten thousand dollars. it was part of a ticket for which the holder paid twenty-five cents to feed a starving fellow-being. but what i wish you to do is to assure the reporters that it was a legitimate question. the word is _anima_." "i knew it." "because you use it every day." "but your condition--" "new york's condition, your eminence," corrected h. r., politely. "i said the synonym, _soul_, would answer. nobody won the ten thousand dollars. new york will cudgel its brains because it did not win the ten thousand dollars. in searching for the missing word it may find something more precious--the missing _soul_." "your way is not our way, but perhaps--" the cardinal was silent, his kindly eyes meditatively bent on h. r. "the reporters, your eminence--" began h. r., apologetically. "ah yes!" and the white-haired prelate accompanied h. r. to the room where the reporters were waiting. "i have heard mr. rutgers's question. the word of five letters beginning with an 'a' i think answers it, from his point of view, which is not unreasonable. i cannot say that the inability to guess proves the non-possession of brains--" "the cardinal knew at once," put in h. r. "but that nobody should have guessed is astonishing." "they were not all christians," explained h. r. "what is the answer?" asked a reporter. "a word of five letters beginning with 'a,'" said h. r. "can't we publish it?" "it is our secret now. new york is very rich. when it discovers that one word--or its synonym of four letters--it will be infinitely richer in every way." the reporters brightened up. they saw columns and columns of guesses. but the cardinal looked thoughtful. then he said to h. r.: "come and see me again." "thank you. i will, your eminence." the cardinal bowed his head gravely and h. r. and the newspaper men left. "are you a catholic?" the _world_ man asked. "no," answered h. r., doubtfully. "all roads lead to rome," interrupted lubin, with a sneer. "excepting one, lubin," said h. r., pleasantly. "keep on going, my boy. it's nice and warm there." xxv the newspapers did nobly. too many prominent names were involved for them not to print the news. there was an opportunity for using real humor and impressive statistics in describing the new labor-saving machinery. the marvelous efficiency of h. r. as a practical philanthropist, demonstrated by his elimination of people who had money with which to buy food, and the simple but amazing efficacy of his thirst-detector raised the story to the realm of pure literature. there was also a serious aspect to the entire affair. all the hungry men, women, and children in greater new york that had no money had been fed. assuming, as was probable, that most of the hungry were not bona-fide residents of new york, it showed that in the metropolis of the western world less than one-thousandth of the total population were hungry and penniless. no other city in the world could boast of such statistics. but h. r.'s work was not done. before he retired for the night, knowing that his position in society and in the world of affairs was established on an adamant base, he nevertheless composed thirty-eight communications for the public sentiment corps to send out the next day to the newspapers. a sample will suffice: it has been clearly proven that new york is a great big city with a great big heart. as always, it responded generously to the call of charity. the hunger feast at madison square garden was an extraordinary bit of municipal psychology and an illuminating object-lesson. why not make permanent a state of mind of the public which does so much to dispel the danger of a bloody revolution? social unrest can be cured by only one thing: charity! man does not need justice. he needs the good-will of other men. the newspapers have it in their power to check the hysterical and un-american clamor against individual fortunes. they can throw open their columns! treat charity as if it were as important as baseball or at least billiards. carry a regular department of charity every day. give your readers a chance to be kind. it will be a novelty to many, but it will help all--the giver no less than the beneficiary. if you will agree, mr. editor, i'll send check. other specimens emphasized the non-sectarian phase of such charities as that conceived and carried to success by one of the most remarkable men in a city where the best brains of the country admittedly resided. intelligent charity, wisely discriminating, truly helpful, had been placed for all time among the possibilities. systematized charities were delusions, chimeras, thin air. there was a demand for the opportunity to be decent and kind. let the newspapers supply it. "if your readers want lurid accounts of murder trials and divorce cases, let them have them. if they want expert advice on how to help their fellow-men give it to them, also. it remains to be seen whether there is one newspaper in new york that knows real news when it sees it!" there were thirty-eight epistolary models in all. in the afternoon of the day following the mammoth hunger feast h. r. called at the goodchild house. "frederick, tell miss grace--" "she 'as _gone_, sir!" said frederick, tragically. "did she leave word when she would return?" "she 'as _gone_, sir!" persisted frederick, in abysmal distress at the news and at his inability to convey it in letters of molten meteors. he added, "to philadelphia." it sounded to him like singapore. he did not think there was much difference, anyhow. "philadelphia?" echoed h. r., blankly. "yes, sir!" said frederick, with sad triumph. "whatever in the world can she--" h. r. caught himself in time. he nearly had reduced himself to the level of humanity--well called dead level--by confessing ignorance aloud. "mrs. goodchild is at 'ome, sir!" suggested frederick, ingratiatingly. "damned good place for her!" muttered h. r., savagely, and gave frederick a five-dollar gold piece. in some respects, frederick admitted, america was ahead of the old country. h. r. walked away frowning fiercely. he went nearly a block before he smiled. love always interferes with the chemistry of the stomach and hits the brain through the toxins. what an ass he was not to have realized the truth on the instant: _grace had run away from him!_ he returned to his office and told andrew barrett to set the public sentiment corps at work on the thirty-eight models he had prepared. then he wrote forty-two more. the consciousness of grace's confessed weakness gave him an eloquence he himself had never before known. they were masterpieces. the newspapers always know they have made a bull's-eye when they get letters from their readers. it is an obvious fact that a man who writes is a steady customer--at least, until his communication is printed. the public sentiment corps merely started the ball rolling. an avalanche of letters from all sorts and conditions of men, women, and merchants descended upon the editorial offices. it became clear, even to the newspapers, that people in new york were willing to give, but they didn't know how. the papers, therefore, announced that they would thereafter run charity as a regular department. it would be strictly non-sectarian. the world's greatest authorities and most eminent philanthropists had been asked to contribute--not money; articles. the _world_ printed a full-page biography of st. vincent de paul and satanically invited some of its pet aversions to send in their autobiographies. all the papers informed the charitable men and women of new york that checks, clothing, supplies, etc., could be sent to the charity editor. all the papers, also, invited h. r. to accept the editorship of the page. his duties would consist of allowing his name to be printed at the top of the page. he declined their offers with profound regret, but promised to give interviews to the reporters whenever they wished. personal matters precluded his acceptance of their kind invitations. the personal matters consisted of the boom in sandwich advertising. it was not uncommon to see "sandwich-board maker, approved by the s. a. s. a.," in signs in various parts of the city. a new industry! xxvi in the mean time grace was in philadelphia. she had gone there for sundry reasons. the telephone calls told on her nerves. mr. goodchild had to install a new one, the number of which was not printed in the directory but confided to intimate friends. requests for autographs, interviews, money, food, advice, name of soap habitually used, permission to name massage ointments and face lotions after her, contributions to magazines, and ten thousand other things had been coming in by mail or were made in person by friends and strangers until grace, in desperation, decided to go on a visit to philadelphia. she craved peace. ruth fiddle had long urged her to come. grace had agreed to be one of her bridesmaids in june and ruth naturally wished to discuss marriage, generally and particularly. ruth delightedly met grace at the station. two young men were with her. one was her fiancé. the other was a very nice chap who had blood, brains, and boodle. his ancestors had been william penn's grandfather's landlords in bristol, england, and he himself had once written a story which he had sent to the _saturday evening post_. his father was in coal, railroads, and fire insurance. they decided to adjourn to the fairview-hartford for luncheon. before so doing they talked. ruth asked a thousand excited questions about the hunger feast, fame, and the rutgers roll. grace answered, and then confided to ruth her iron resolve never to marry h. r. she admitted that he was as great as the papers said, even greater, and, besides, good-looking. but her determination was inflexible. ruth, to show she approved, told grace that monty--the writer--was her fiancé's chum and african hunting-companion. monty himself told miss goodchild that there was a good story in the whole affair. in fact, two stories. in both of them the heroine--he looked at her and nodded his head convincingly. "drawn from life," he added. "of course i'll have to know you--i mean, the heroine--better. but don't you think she'd make a great one?" she wasn't thrilled a bit. she was not even politely interested. what was such talk, grace impartially asked herself, to one who had been madly cheered by thousands? still, he was a nice boy, not so consciously clever as new-yorkers who chose to regard themselves as vaudeville wits. finally they got into the waiting motor and went to the fairview-hartford, where the eating is better than in any new york hotel. as they were about to enter the dining-room grace goodchild put on her restaurant look of utter unconsciousness and stone deafness and blindness, which had grown into a habit since she became famous. she entered the dining-room ahead of the others, as usual. she took nine steps before she stopped short. her face went pale. nobody had stopped eating! nobody had turned around to stare! nobody had stage-whispered, "there she is!" no woman had said, "do you think she is as beautiful as the newspapers try to make out?" not one imbecile male look; not one feminine sneer! nothing! no fame! "what's the matter?" asked monty in alarm. grace felt an overwhelming desire to stand there until the people looked, even if it took a year. as the century-long seconds passed she barely could resist the impulse to shout, "fire!" "anything wrong?" whispered monty, with real concern. "n-no-nothing!" she stammered, and followed ruth, who had passed her, unnoticing. her color returned as wrath dispelled amazement. for the first time since h. r. began to woo her in public places with sandwiches grace goodchild actually had to eat food in a restaurant. in new york famous people don't go to restaurants to eat. she was distraite throughout the luncheon. she thought monty was an ass. and the other feeding beasts must have read the new york papers! there was absolutely no excuse. in the evening the same thing happened. that is, nothing happened. the fiddles' friends tried to be particularly nice to her by talking of the opera, novels, the dancing-craze, the resurgence of the republican party, and cubism. it only made it worse. and not one knew the rutgers roll! the next day ruth and the young men took her to the philadelphia country club. same thing! and later to a dance at the fitz-marlton. ditto! her good looks, her gowns, and her nice manners made a very favorable impression on all of ruth's friends, male and female, young and old. hang 'em, that's all it did! it was like lucullus being asked to eat sanitary biscuits. she had wanted peace. but not in a burial crypt. on the fourth day of extinction she said to ruth after breakfast: "my dear, i must return to new york!" "oh no! grace, darling, i've accepted seventeen--" "i must, ruth. i simply must!" "but monty is coming at one to take us to his father's--" grace felt like saying that monty could take himself to hades or to atlantic city. but she merely shook her head. she dared not trust herself to speak. ruth appealed to her mother. but mrs. fiddle shrugged her shoulders and said: "no use! new york!" she herself was a van duzen. and so grace goodchild returned home, five days before she was expected. "i couldn't stand it, mother," she explained, almost tearfully. "very well," said mrs. goodchild. what else can a mother say in new york? and isn't it right to stand by your own flesh and blood? grace hesitated, full of perplexities and unformulated doubts and an exasperating sense of indecision. she felt like opening the book of her soul to other eyes. to hear advice or, at least, opinions. "i want to have a heart-to-heart talk with you, mother," said grace, hesitatingly. then she apologized, self-defensively. "it concerns my future, dear." "yes, darling," said mrs. goodchild, absently. "i don't think. i'd like it quite like celestine's-- grace, love, will you run over to raquin's spring exhibition at the fitz-marlton and look at it? it is next to the black that mrs. vandergilt liked. i have an appointment with celestine--" grace knew that the selection of a husband could wait, for fashions in that line do not change so quickly as in skirts. she dutifully said, "i will!" she also had her eye on one. before going to raquin's display she stopped at oldman's. the store flunky opened the door of her motor and smiled happily when he saw who it was. she was made subtly conscious that he was dying to announce her name to the world at the top of his enthusiastic voice. life in new york had its compensations, after all. she entered. the shop-girls whispered to the customers on whom they were waiting. the customers turned quickly and stared at grace goodchild. "she often comes here!" she heard the pretty little thing in charge of seventy-two glove-boxes say proudly to a client. the girl who waited on grace was a stranger. nevertheless, when grace told her "i'll take these!" the girl said, "very well, miss goodchild." "oh!" gasped grace. "you know me?" "what d'ye t'ink i am?" said the girl, indignantly. "say, it was great, miss goodchild!" the worship in the girl's eyes kept the language from being offensive. "thank you!" "i hope you'll be very happy, miss goodchild," said the girl, and blushed. "oh, i didn't mean to be--i--i couldn't help wishing it, miss goodchild!" "i'm sure i'm very grateful for your good wishes," grace told her, graciously. the child's--age twenty-four--eyes filled with tears. as grace walked away, mayme's lips moved raptly. she was memorizing dem woids. on her way out grace went through the same craning of necks, the same vivid curiosity, the same half-audible murmurs, the same spitefulness in the eyes of the women who, though rich, were not famous. everybody is so disgustingly rich nowadays that society had begun to applaud such remarks as, "i've had to give up one of my motors," or, "jim says he won't put the _mermaid_ in commission this year; simply can't afford it." at raquin's wonderful exhibition of models grace saw exactly what she wished to see. it would be worthy of her and of her throat. one who is photographed many times a week has to have gowns; not to have them is almost immoral. grace was so concerned with doing her duty toward the public that she forgot that she had come to see the third one, next to mrs. vandergilt's black. she was nearly half-way home before she remembered what her mother had asked her to do. grace went back to the fitz-marlton. dress was a public service. mrs. goodchild's clothes must tell the public whose mother she was. she told the chauffeur "home," and began to think. pleasure could be made a duty. blessed indeed is she in whose mind, as in a vast cathedral, pleasure and duty solemnly contract nuptials. this beautiful figure of speech in turn made her think of marriage. if she married reggie or mr. watson or percival or one of the others, what would her married life be? what? one long visit to philadelphia! "i could kill him!" she said to the flower-holder, frowning fiercely. happening to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror for that purpose provided in an town cars, grace smoothed her brow and smiled. a man would have required slathers of flattery to dispel ill-humor. with a woman, the truth is enough. a mirror does not lie. providence is more than kind to them; even automatic. if she wouldn't marry reggie or the others and did marry h. r.-- but how could she? she was an imaginative american girl with a sunshiny soul and much vitality who lived in new york. she thought of her marriage to h. r. she thought of the newspapers! the mound of clippings that instantly loomed before her made her gasp. what wouldn't the newspapers do when _she_ married h. r., especially if h. r., prompted by love, really made an effort? she was forced to admit that he was a remarkable man! "papa," she said aloud, "will never consent!" papa's life had been made miserable by h. r. indeed, the only thing that reconciled him to the ungrateful task of living was the steady growth of the bank's deposits. it was due, mr. goodchild often declared, to his management. but he couldn't speak about h. r. without profanity. parental opposition was not everything. marriage was a serious thing. xxvii the motor stopped. she had arrived at her house. the car door was opened by h. r. she started back. then she looked at him curiously, almost awe-strickenly, as though her wishes had taken on magical properties of automatic fulfilment. was this the same remarkable person she had almost deified on the way from raquin's exhibition? what would he say? she prayed that he might not spoil everything, by some inanity. he held out his hand to help her alight. then he spoke. "it was time!" he said, and walked beside her--but a couple of inches ahead. that was because, though he was an american husband-to-be, he also was a man, a protector, a leader. such men are cave-men minus the club. grace at times was not a true goodchild. this time she said nothing. frederick opened the door. his face expressed no sense of the unusualness of the sight. h. r., with the air of a host, led grace into the drawing-room. he stood beside her in the gorgeous louis xv. room. "grace," he said, gently, "for twenty-nine days i've been the unhappiest man in all new york. for five, the unhappiest in the entire world!" "will you kindly release my hand?" she asked. no sooner had the words left her lips than she realized they were piffle. then she began to laugh. it was the first official acknowledgment that no social barriers divided them. "suppose," she asked, with a humorously intended demureness, "that i wished to use my handkerchief?" h. r. with his disengaged hand took his own out of his pocket and held it to her nose. "blow!" he said, tenderly. "i don't want to," she retorted and tried to pull away her hand. he replaced his handkerchief in his pocket. "all over but the mailing-list," he said to her. "sit down here; by me!" something within her stirred to revolt. unfortunately, he did not release her hand, but led her to the historic divan--part of the suite for which mr. goodchild had paid eighteen thousand five hundred dollars in the sunday supplement. marie antoinette had been seated in that very place when de rohan brought the famous diamond necklace to show her. (same issue; third column, fourth page.) "i think that for sheer, unadulterated impudence--" she began, without any anger, because she was too busy trying to decide what she must do to him to put an end to a situation that had become intolerable--at least in its present shape. "grace, don't talk nonsense. just let me look at you." he held her at arm's-length and looked into her eyes. he saw that they were blue and clear and steady and looked fearlessly at him--the stare of a child who doesn't know why she should be afraid. if they don't watch out that fearlessness becomes anything but childish in new york. he continued to stare steadily, unblinkingly, into them. "i can't stand it! i can't stand it!" he said, hoarsely, and blinked his eyes. then he closed them--tight. coward! she had felt his keen eyes bore through her garments, through her flesh, into her very soul of souls--a look that frightened until it warmed; and after it warmed, it again frightened--in another way. she saw a wonderfully well-shaped head and very clean-looking hair and a very healthy-looking, clear-cut face and very strong shoulders and very masterful hands. and from all of him came waves that thrilled--the mysterious effluvia that compels and dominates the woman to whom life means this life. at length he spoke with an effort. "we shall be married in grace chapel." he grew calmer, and added, "people will think it was named for you!" "i am not going to marry you," she declared, vehemently. "no. i am going to marry you. after you are my wife we naturally will talk about it. that will enable us to learn whether we shall stay married or not. grace," he said, earnestly, "i'll do anything you wish." "leave this house, then." "it's _your_ house, dear," he reminded her, gently, "and i am your guest. that puts it out of your power to enforce your desire. don't you see?" she tacitly admitted that there was an etiquette of hospitality by asking, coldly, "why should i marry you?" "i can't give you as many reasons as i might if you asked why i should marry you. the principal two are that i love you and that i am the only man whom grace goodchild can marry and still remain grace goodchild." it seemed to her impossible that he could be sitting beside her talking about marriage seriously, and more than impossible that she could be sitting there listening. "people know you as grace goodchild. after the marriage they will know you as the grace goodchild that h. r. has married. what would become of you if you cease to be grace goodchild?" she thought of philadelphia, and shuddered. but he thought he had not convinced her. he rose and said to her: "oh, my love! you are so utterly and completely beautiful that if i have a man's work to do i shall succeed only because the reward is you! i have come to the turning-point in my career and i must have the light of your eyes to guide me." she did not love him and therefore she heard his words very distinctly. but she was a woman, and she was thrilled by his look and his voice and by his manner. he was no longer a mountebank to her, but an unusual man. and when she thought of not marrying him her mind reverted in some curious way to philadelphia and its subtle suggestions of sarcophagi and the contents thereof. but this man must not think that he could win her by stage speeches even though they might be real. she said to him, determinedly: "we might as well understand each other--" "i am the creature; you are the creator," he quickly interjected. "you are very beautiful, _very_! but you have much more than beauty. you have brains, and i think your heart is a marvelous lute--" "a what?" she asked, curiously. no woman will allow the catalogue to be skimped or obscured. "a lute, a wonderful musical instrument that some day will be played by a master hand. when you cease to be merely a girl and become a woman, with your capacity for loving when you let yourself go! ah!" he closed his eyes and trembled. all women, at heart, love to be accused of being psychic pyromaniacs. "_there will i give thee my loves!_" he muttered, quoting from the "song of songs." she knew it wasn't original because he said it so solemnly. she dared not ask from whom the quotation was. it sounded like swinburne. "come!" he was not quoting this time. he stood before her, his face tense, his eyes aflame, his arms stretched imploringly toward her. she met his gaze--and then she could not look away. she saw the wonderful man of whom the papers had printed miles of columns, who had made all new york talk of him for weeks, who was young and strong and comely and masterful, who had an old name and a fighting jaw, whose words stirred the pulses like a quickstep on the piccolo. and his eyes made her understand what was meant by actinic rays. they were looking at her, piercing through her garments until she felt herself subtly divested of all concealments. and then she trembled as if his eyes physically touched her! she thrilled, she blushed, she frowned--for she felt herself desired. and her thoughts became the thoughts of a woman who is wooed by life, by love, by a man's red blood and her own. her new york inhibitions turned to ashes. life-long mental habits withered and shriveled and vanished in microscopic flakes until into her self-hypnotized consciousness there came the eternal query of the female who has stopped running, "what can i give to this man?" and hendrik, seeing her face, held his shaking hands before her, impatiently beckoning to her to come. some unseen spirit took her slim hands and, without consulting her, placed them in his. and then he kissed her. the heavens flamed. she pushed him from her and sank back trembling upon the divan on which marie antoinette was not sitting on the day when de rohan did not bring the diamond necklace that did not cause the french revolution, though mr. goodchild had paid eighteen thousand five hundred dollars for the historic suite, in the sunday supplement. xxviii it is difficult for a man to know what to do after the first kiss. a second kiss is not so wise as appears at first blush. it impairs mental efficiency by rendering irresistible the desire for a third. a banal remark is equally fatal. to tell her, "now you are mine in god's sight," is worse than sacrilegious; it is conducive to acute suffragism and some polemical oratory. to say, "now i am yours for ever," may be of demonstrable accuracy, but also conduces to speech. hendrik rutgers was no ordinary man. he knew that one kiss does not make one marriage nor even one divorce. but he knew that he was at least at the church door and he had a wonderful ring in his waistcoat pocket. he therefore became h. r. once more--cool, calm, master of his fate. it behooved him to do something. he did. he fell on his knees and reverently bowed his head. and then she heard him say, "grant that i may become worthy of her!" then his lips moved in silence. she saw them move. her soul trembled. was she so much to this man? great is the power of prayer even in the homes of the rich, however cynics may sneer. he did not glance at her, feeling her eyes on him. when he judged it was time he looked up suddenly, rose to his feet, and, in a diffident, apologetic voice, observed: "forgive me, dear! what did you say?" what could she say? she therefore said it: "nothing!" very softly. "i was very far from new york--and yet you were with me, my love!" she thought of philadelphia and her hand sought his with that refuge-seeking instinct which cannot be statuted away from them. he met her half-way. he raised her hands to his lips and his disengaged left sought his waistcoat pocket where the ring was. "she is in the drawing-room, sir, with mr. rutgers," came in faithful frederick's warning voice, raised above the menial's pitch. "what!" they heard mr. goodchild ejaculate. then the titular owner of the house entered. h. r. politely bowed. "how do you do?" he said, easily. "you are a trifle inopportune. grace and i were talking over our plans." mr. goodchild turned purple and advanced. grace rose hastily. h. r. meditatively doubled up his right arm, moved his clenched fist up and down, felt his biceps with his left hand, and smiled contentedly. mr. goodchild remembered his manners and his years at one and the same time. with his second calm thought he remembered the reporters. he gulped twice and when he spoke it was only a trifle huskily: "mr. rutgers, i have no desire to make a scene in my own house." h. r. pleasantly pointed to a fauteuil. "i must ask you--" "sit down and we'll talk it over quietly. you will find," h. r. assured him, earnestly, "that i am not unreasonable. have a seat." mr. goodchild sat down. h. r. turned to grace and with one lightning wink managed to convey that everybody obeyed him--excepting one, whose wish was a federal statute to him. she looked with a new interest at her father. it was, she realized, the eternal conflict between youth and age. love the prize! _gratia victrix!_ "i--i--am willing to admit"--mr. goodchild nearly choked as the unusual words came from his larynx--"that you have shown--er--great cleverness in your--er--career. but i must say to you--in a kindly way, mr. rutgers, in a kindly way, believe me!--that i do not care to have this--er--farce prolonged. if you are after--if there is any reasonable financial consideration that will--er--induce you to desist--i--you--" "you have relapsed," interrupted h. r., amiably, "into the language of a bank president. suppose you now talk like a millionaire." it was not really a request, but a command. mr. george g. goodchild obeyed. "how much?" he said. grace looked as she felt--shocked. she had not fully regained her normal composure. but this was a man who had kissed her. was he to be bought off with money? the shame of it overwhelmed her. she listened almost painfully to h. r.'s reply. "i am now," h. r. impassively said to mr. goodchild, "waiting for you to talk like a father." mr. goodchild stared at him blankly. "like a father; like a human being," explained h. r. "grace is no bundle of canceled checks or a lost stock certificate. she is your daughter." "well?" "excuse me; i mean she is your own flesh and blood--the best of your flesh and blood, at that. your wishes cannot be considered where her happiness is at stake. therefore what you think best is merely your personal opinion and hence of interest to yourself and to nobody else." mr. goodchild quickly opened his mouth, but before the sound could come h. r. went on, hurriedly, "suppose you had set your heart upon her becoming a mathematician. would that make her one?" "never!" instantly declared the non-mathematical grace. mr. goodchild shook his head violently and again opened his mouth. but h. r. once more surpassed him in speed and pursued, calmly argumentative: "or suppose you did not believe in vaccination. is your opinion to be allowed to prevail against the advice of your competent family physician until grace gets the disease and you are forced to acknowledge that you were wrong? or would even the sight of the most beautiful face in the world pitted and pockmarked fail to shake your own faith in your own infallibility?" grace shuddered. "_father!_" she exclaimed, horror-stricken, and glared at mr. goodchild. she was now thinking of paternal opposition in terms of smallpox. "but--" angrily expostulated mr. goodchild. "exactly," agreed h. r., hastily. "that's it. now for a favor. will you let me talk business with you? _my_ business!" mr. goodchild's business was to know all about the business of others. but he did not take it home with him. however, before he could do more than shake his head, h. r. went on: "i am organizing six companies." that sounded like good business. but mr. goodchild nodded non-committally from force of habit. "the s. a. s. a. imperial sandwich board corporation. capital stock, one million, of which forty per cent. goes to the public for cash, forty per cent. given to me--" "forty?" irrepressibly objected mr. goodchild. "forty," repeated h. r., firmly. "i am no hog. i get what my ideas, designs, and patents are worth at a fair valuation. and twenty per cent. goes to the s. a. s. a." "why?" came from mr. goodchild before he could realize that he was speaking bankerwise. "because the s. a. s. a. will insist upon the company's boards being used by all our customers. and besides, as head of the s. a. s. a., i vote that twenty per cent. i thus control sixty per cent. and--" mr. goodchild brightened up, but remembered himself and said, very coldly: "go on." "we shall manufacture sandwiches of all kinds, at from one dollar to ten thousand dollars and upward, and--" "dreadful word! loathe it!" "--the s. a. s. a. memento mori manufacturing company to manufacture and sell the statuettes of the ultimate sandwich. same capitalization. same holdings. you see, i have sold my ideas, designs, and patents so that later on nobody can say my companies were overcapitalized. there are also the rapid restaurant service appliance company, and four others. same capitalization; same holdings. the money is all raised. and let me say," finished h. r., sternly accusing, "that the people who furnish the cash and buy the stock get _something_ for their money." "that's all very well," began mr. goodchild, contemptuously, "but--" "exactly," said h. r. "i propose to transfer all our accounts to your bank. you know you said you'd like to have mine when i became famous." "i know nothing about your companies, and care less. but i want to tell you right now--" "what interest are you going to allow us on our balances?" cut in h. r. "no interest!" said mr. goodchild in a voice that really meant "no grace!" h. r. turned to his sweetheart and, desiring to forestall desertion, took her hand in his and said to her: "grace, this house is a very nice house. you have spent many happy hours here. but it is, after all, only a house. and new york is _new york_!" and philadelphia was _philadelphia_! grace's hand remained in h. r.'s. "you can't have her!" said mr. goodchild, furiously. "who can't have whom?" asked mrs. goodchild, entering the room. h. r. released grace's hand, approached mrs. goodchild, and, before she knew what he was going to do, threw his right arm about her and kissed her--a loud filial smack. she quickly and instinctively put one hand up to her hair, for the strange young man had been a trifle effusive. but before she could transform her surprise into vocal sounds the stranger spoke, in a voice ringing with affectionate sincerity not too playful, you understand, but convincing, nevertheless: "she inherits her good looks, her disposition, and her taste in dress from you. i saw it the first time i met you. don't you remember? and i warn you now that if i can't marry grace i'll kill that husband of yours and marry _you_!" to prove it, he kissed her again, twice. "how dare--" shouted mr. goodchild. "i am not sure," said h. r. to mrs. goodchild, "that i want grace now. between thirty-two and forty a woman is at her best." he patted her shoulder, as we paternally do with the young ones, and went back to grace. it all had happened so quickly that only h. r. was calm. "my dear!" said mrs. goodchild, looking helplessly at grace. "what is it, mother?" said h. r., appropriating the affectionate words. and as she did not answer he asked, generally. "what do you say to the eighth?" "an eighth?" echoed mr. goodchild, almost amiably, thinking, of one-eighth of one per cent. "of june!" said h. r. "that gives you ample time for everything, grace. and, remember, give the reporters the detailed list of the trousseau." "there isn't going to be any marriage. and there isn't going to be any nauseating newspaper articles with pictures of intimate lingerie enough to make a decent man blush." "a really decent man always blushes with shame when he does not give _carte blanche_ to his only daughter," said h. r. with great dignity. "mr.--er--rogers," said mrs. goodchild. "rutgers," corrected her prospective son-in-law. "the 'g' is hard. it's dutch, like roosevelt, van rensselaer, and cruger." "but we don't know anything about your family," she said, very seriously. "do you know," asked h. r., pleasantly, "the wittelbachs?" "it's beer, isn't it?" she said. it might be the best brewing blood in christendom, but still it wasn't wall street or real estate. "good shot!" exclaimed h. r., admiringly. "it is the patronymic of the reigning house of bavaria. you know, munich, where beer is the thing. and do you know the bernadottes?" "i've heard of them," replied mrs. goodchild, made wary by her non-recognition of a sovereign house. "it is not french delicatessen, but the royal family of sweden. and the hapsburgs? the emperor of austria belongs to them. and romanoff? the czar of russia would answer to that if he voted. and there are also the hohenzollerns and the bourbons and the braganzas. and then," he finished, simply, "there is _rutgers_!" "it seems to me," put in grace, coldly, "that i have something to say--" "empress, you don't. just look," interrupted h. r. "of course, the date is subject to your approval. i didn't have any luncheon. will you tell frederick to bring some tea and a few sandwiches--" "damnation!" shrieked mr. george g. goodchild. "is a man to be insulted in his own home? get to hell out of here with your sandwiches!" "george!" rebuked mrs. goodchild, placidly. she never frowned. wrinkles. "yes, george!" maniacally mimicked her husband. "it's sandwiches! sandwiches! sandwiches! everywhere! yesterday i discharged my secretary. i told him to send out for a chicken sandwich for me and i heard him give the boy the order: 'son-in-law for mr. goodchild. cock-a-doodle-do!' at this week's meeting of our directors mr. garrettson asked me: 'how is the king of the sandwiches? living at your house yet?' and the other jackasses all laughed. _sandwiches!_" he turned to his daughter, and fearing that she was in the conspiracy, asked her, vehemently: "do you wish to be known all your life as the queen of the sandwiches? do you? do you wish your humorous friends to say to you, grace, will you have a caviare husband?" "no!" replied grace. fame was fame, but ridicule was hades. "oh, dear! oh, dear!" said mrs. goodchild. "tell frederick," said h. r., fiercely, "to bring in fifteen rutgerses, if you prefer to call them that." "that isn't funny," rebuked grace, coldly. "i don't think you are accustomed to surroundings--" "no; it's hospitality. i'm starving." "you'll have sandwiches for breakfast, luncheon, and dinner, my child," mr. goodchild told grace, angrily but intelligently. "in the newspapers!" "of course i won't marry him!" said grace, decisively. "it's preposterous." h. r. went up to her. she shook her head. he spoke very seriously: "grace, when people tell you that i have given free sandwiches to new york they mean that i have taken the poorest of the poor, the pariahs of commerce, the despised of the rabble, poor human derelicts, souls without a future, without a hope, worse than dirt, poorer than poverty, and i have made them _men_!" "yes, but s-s-sandwiches," blubbered grace. "i took these victims of society and capitalism and organized them, and then i emptied them into the golden cloaca maxima that you call fifth avenue, and lo! they emerged free men, self-supporting, well-fed, useful, artistic. they have been the efficient instruments of fame. it is they who have made you known from one end of the city to the other." "yes; but sandwiches!" doggedly repeated grace. "i have worked," said h. r., sternly, "with human souls--" "sandwiches!" corrected mr. goodchild. h. r. flushed angrily. "the sandwich," he told them all with an angry finality, "is here to stay. our net receipts, after paying big wages, are over one thousand dollars a day. what do you think i am, an ass? or a quick lunch? or a bank president? _pshaw!_ we've only begun! a capitalization of over five millions at the very start and the business growing like cheap automobiles, and me owning forty per cent. of the stock and controlling sixty per cent. in perpetuity! these men have made me their leader. i will not forsake them!" "can you give me," said mr. goodchild, seriously, "evidence to prove your statements?" if the love affair was not to end in an elopement it would be wise to have a business talk with this young man, who, after all was said and done, had a valuable asset in his newspaper publicity. "you may be a wonderful man," said grace to h. r., "but all my friends would ask me if i am going to have a mammoth sandwich instead of a wedding-cake! i ask you not to persist--" h. r. smiled sympathetically and said: "you poor darling! is _that_ all you are afraid of?" she thought of philadelphia and a quiet life, and she shook her head sadly. why couldn't he have made her famous by unobjectionable methods. but h. r. said, "i'll guarantee that my name will never again be associated with sandwiches--" "you can't do it!" declared grace, with conviction, thinking of humorous american girls. "when they are friends all you have to do is to take out the 'r' to turn them into fiends." mrs. goodchild said nothing, but frowned. it had just occurred to her that here they all were, amicably talking with the man who had made their lives grievous burdens. mr. goodchild also was silent, but shrewdly eyed h. r. "i'll do it!" repeated h. r., confidently. "how can you without killing everybody?" challenged grace, skeptically. "everybody knows you as the leader of the sandwich men, and if you form companies--" "my child," h. r. told her, gently, "i don't know anything about finance. that is why i want to get father's advice about my business. every man to his trade. but i do know new york. i ought to, hang it! my grandfather owned what is now the hôtel regina, and-- well, look here! if by the first of june nobody even remembers that i had anything to do with sandwiches will you marry me?" "yes," said mr. goodchild. if h. r. could do that he was fit to be anybody's son-in-law. if he couldn't, the annoyance would end. "grace?" asked h. r. "i'm willing to take a chance for two weeks," said mr. goodchild, feeling certain he was displaying machiavellian wisdom. but grace shook her head. "everything you've done," she told h. r., "is child's play--" "what!" interrupted h. r., indignantly. "make new-yorkers give money for charity that they might have spent for their own pleasure?" "nothing alongside of making 'em forget that you invented sandwiches. if it had been anything else, you might--i might--you--" she floundered helplessly. her life for weeks had been so full of excitement that she could not co-ordinate her ideas quickly. "you don't know me, dear," said h. r. "i hate to say it myself, but, really, i'm a wonder!" he looked so confident, so masterfully sure of himself, so little like a dreamer, and so much like a doer, that grace was impressed. "can you?" she asked, more eagerly than mr. goodchild liked to see. but then h. r. had never kissed him. "with your hand for the prize and your love for my reward? can you ask me if i can?" "yes, i can. can you?" "yes!" he said. "but of course i'll need your help." "my help?" doubt came back into her eyes. "yes. this way." he took her in his arms and kissed her. mrs. goodchild stared, open-eyed. mr. goodchild grew purple, and shouted: "here! this is--" h. r. turned to him and said, "this is all right." and again he pressed his lips to hers and kept them pressed this time. "i won't have it!" shrieked mr. goodchild, going toward the young people, one fist upraised. h. r. ceased kissing, and spoke rebukingly: "what do you want me to do? kiss her in the vestibule before ringing the door-bell, as if we were plebeian sweethearts? or in a taxi in the park? listen: _fear not to intrust your daughter to a man who never kisses her save in the sight of those who brought her into this world!_" h. r. spoke so aphoristically that mr. goodchild thought it was a quotation from ecclesiastes. h. r. took the ring out of his waistcoat pocket and gave it to grace. "here, my love!" it was a magnificent green diamond, the rarest of all. mrs. goodchild rose quickly and said, "let me see it!" mother-like, being concerned with her only daughter's happiness, she took the ring to the window. grace followed. it was her ring. "say, big chief," h. r. asked his prospective father-in-law, "do i get the sand--do i get some slices of bread with some slices of viands, two breads to one viand, and a cup of tea?" "tea be hanged! have a man's drink," hospitably and diplomatically said mr. goodchild. there was still a chance of escaping. he knew what violent opposition had done to sentimental daughters. "yes, but you'll have to allow us a decent rate of interest on our balances." "how much do you carry?" asked mr. goodchild, carelessly. "enough for dawson to offer three per cent. but let us not talk business here. i'll call on you to-morrow. "all right. but dawson can't do it, not even on time deposits, and--" "scotch for mine," said h. r. "is frederick coming?" mr. goodchild was, after all, a gentleman. he rang for frederick. he also was thirsty. "hendrik, it's beautiful," said grace, enthusiastically. "but are you perfectly sure you can--" "empress, don't you wish it done?" "of course." "then, of course, it is done. you'll be able to yell '_sandwich_'! anywhere in new york and nobody will think of anything except that you are the most beautiful girl in the world. give me another before frederick brings 'em." "brings what?" "lamb chops!" answered h. r., who was a humorist of the new york school. "quick!" and he kissed her twice. "we'll have tea up-stairs if you're really going to be one of the family," said mrs. goodchild, with the dubious smile so familiar on the faces of mothers of new york girls. "come, grace!" said h. r., taking her by the unringed hand. he knew better--by instinct. it was a very satisfactory day. such was the compelling force of his self-confidence that before he left the house mr. and mrs. goodchild sincerely hoped he could accomplish the impossible and wipe out the sandwich stain from the old knickerbocker name of rutgers. xxix the next morning h. r. called andrew barrett into the inner office. "shut the door," said he. andrew barrett did so and looked alarmed--alarmed rather than guilty. "to-morrow, and until further notice," said h. r., sternly, "you will tell the department-store sandwiches to parade in front of the various newspaper offices from morning until night." "but not in park row, surely?" "exactly! and find out whether the business managers of the various newspapers have been holding conferences with the managing editors. they probably will--this afternoon or to-morrow." "how can i--" "by paid spies--office-boy scouts. of course, lady stenographers being more in your line-- no! look me in the eye!" andrew barrett blushed and said, feebly: "i am taking the count, chief." "very well. i shall now go out and do your work. see that you do mine!" and h. r. went out, leaving andrew barrett full of devastating curiosity. "i wonder what he has up his sleeve now?" mused young mr. barrett. "i'll bet it's a corker!" h. r. himself called on the head of one of the most progressive of new york's great department stores--a man to whom full pages on week-days were nothing. he, therefore, had heard of h. r., and also had used sandwiches. he greeted the founder of the s. a. s. a. with respectful interest. h. r. said, calmly: "i am here now to make you a present of from ten thousand to fifty thousand dollars a year--in cash!" mr. liebmann, of course, knew that h. r., though an aristocrat, was neither a fool nor a lunatic. he diplomatically asked, "and my gratitude for your kindness may be expressed just how, mr. rutgers?" "by accepting the cash and putting it in your pocket, to have and to hold until death do you part." "mr. rutgers, i am an old man and suspense is trying." and mr. liebmann smiled deprecatingly. "i have come to show you how you may save the amount i have mentioned in your newspaper-advertising appropriation. you big advertisers are now helpless to help yourself. there are no rebates and you can't play one paper against the others. those days are over. will you hear me to the end and not go on at half-cock while i am talking?" "yes," promised mr. liebmann, impetuously. "mr. liebmann, you must write a letter to all the advertising managers of all the newspapers, saying that you have decided to discontinue all advertising in the daily papers as soon as your contracts expire. hold your horses! explain that you intend to reach your suburban trade through the fashion magazines, local papers, and circulars, and that for manhattan and brooklyn you have decided to use sandwiches--don't talk yet!" "i am only listening," mr. liebmann hastened to assure him. "the newspapers know that you are a napoleonic advertiser. they will pay to your communication the double compliment of belief and consternation. they know you know your business and that you are not only ultra-modern, but a pioneer. you have always been a highly intelligent advertiser. you will then let me supply you with one hundred of our best men, who will parade in front of the newspaper-offices in full regalia, and also in plain sight of your dear friends, the advertising managers. you know their psychology. take it from me, you'll win. "the only thing you mustn't do is to call the reductions rebates. there is no way by which the papers can get back at you. if i can make new york feed the hungry, would it be very difficult for me to make the advertising managers act wisely? of course, if your letter does not bring about a saving of not less than ten thousand dollars a year you will not have to pay a penny for the sandwiches. i wish nothing written from you. the word of a liebmann is enough for a rutgers. my family has been in new york long enough for you to know whether a rutgers is a man of his word or not." "i'd rather shake hands with you than save a million a year in advertising," said mr. liebmann. h. r. looked him straight in the eye--suspiciously, incredulously, insultingly. mr. liebmann flushed and then h. r. said, earnestly: "i believe you, mr. liebmann!" and shook hands. mr. liebmann, bareheaded, proudly escorted him to the sidewalk. he thanked h. r. to the last. h. r. called on the other liberal advertisers and, with more or less ease, succeeded in impressing them as he had mr. liebmann. then he visited the managing editors of all the daily papers. he began with the best. the managing editor was delighted to see the man he had helped to make famous. "i have come," h. r. told him, "to ask a great favor of you. i am, as you know, very greatly interested in charity work. your paper has been good enough to publish my views." h. r. spoke with a sort of restrained zeal simply, not humorously, obviously as a one-idea man, a crank, still young and undyspeptic. the editor prided himself on his quick and accurate insight into character. he said: "oh yes; i know about your work." "thank you. well, sir, i find my usefulness to the cause somewhat impaired by the persistence with which my name is associated with the merely commercial phase of sandwiching. you know the sandwich men commercially were vermin, and i have taught them to pay for their own food. i took paupers and unpauperized them." "and the signs in your parade were great. i told them at the union league club that at least one poor man's parade had shown brains. not a single threat! not one complaint! not one window smashed! not one spectator insulted! it showed genius!" and the editor held out his hand. "i am a christian, sir," said h. r., gently. "well, i'll shake hands, anyhow, if you'll let me," said the editor, cordially. h. r. took his hand and looked so embarrassed that the editor would have sworn he blushed. this was no publicity-seeker, no fake modesty. yes, that must be it--a christian, the kind editors seldom shake hands with. "and so," continued h. r., earnestly, "if you please, if you would only tell your reporters not to mention me in connection with sandwiches i could do more for the cause. you see, what i did with the sandwiches was merely the entering wedge. i don't want you to think i am complaining of your reporters, sir; they have been more than kind to me; but if you could see your way clear to not speaking about sandwiches as though they were my personal property--" "you are the man who gave free sandwiches to new york," smiled the editor, as though he had said something original. the situation was more serious than h. r. had believed, but he said, with dignity: "i made free men of pariahs, sir. that job is finished. the newspapers have helped nobly; and to-day, thanks to them, charity is brought daily before their readers." "but it is less picturesque than your courtship of miss goodchild with sandwiches." "there were"--and h. r. smiled deprecatingly--"peculiar circumstances about my personal relations with mr. goodchild. of course, i also desired to prove to intelligent but not very original business men that sandwiching is the most effective form of advertising. it is like all art, sir. the personal quality gives to it a human appeal that no combination of printed words on a page can have." "how do you make that out?" asked the editor. "when you read a play you see the printed words; but when you see the same play well acted you find that the same words you have read and liked reach the public through the senses of sight and of hearing as well as through the intellect, and is thus trebly efficient on the stage. now, sandwiching is beyond question the highest form of commercial advertising. it succeeds even in love! and--" "i congratulate you," said the editor, heartily. h. r. looked so serious that the editor found himself saying, with even greater seriousness, "what you say is extremely interesting." "i have long studied--in my humble way--the psychology of the crowd. i have discovered some very interesting things--at least they are interesting to me, sir," apologized h. r., almost humbly. "i am led to think, indeed i feel certain, that the art of sandwiching is in its infancy. the marvelous imagination of the american people, their resourcefulness and ingenuity, will make the development of artistic sandwiching one of the most extraordinary commercial phenomena of the twentieth century. but personally i am not interested in advertising, sir, except as in this instance as a means to an end. when the result is reached that is the end of my interest. and so, sir, though i feel gratitude for the noble work your paper is doing for the cause of charity, i really and honestly think that less attention should be paid to the business side of one of our successful experiments with the submerged tenth, and more to charity itself. can't you tell your reporters that sandwiching at union wages has nothing to do with it?" "news is news," said the editor, shaking his head regretfully. "we print what is of interest to our readers." "if your readers were made to think of filling other people's stomachs instead of their own there would be less dyspepsia--and more newspaper-readers, sir. it is a discouraging fact that the world appears to be more concerned over making money than over the unspeakable folly of dying rich." "we can do without death more easily than without money," observed the editor, sententiously. "oh no! death was invented in order to teach men how to live wisely. this is the only reason why the cessation of the organic functions, which is life's one great commonplace, has at all times attained to the dignity of rhetoric. but i am taking your time. i hope you will be good enough to drop sandwiches and stick to charity. i thank you for your kindness; and--and," he finished, diffidently, "i should like to shake hands with you." he looked appealingly at the editor, who thereupon shook his hand warmly. "i'll do what i can for you, mr. rutgers. i am very glad to have met you. anything we can do to help you in your efforts we shall gladly do. you are a very remarkable man and you have done greater work than you seem to realize." h. r. shook his head vehemently, however, and retired in obvious confusion. with a few trifling differences, due to the divers editorial personalities, he did the same thing to the other managing editors. all of them thought that none of the reporters really knew what manner of man h. r. was. withal, all of them were right. he was a wonder! on the next morning the eyes of the business managers of the great metropolitan dailies, morning and evening, were made to glow by twenty-seven letters from their biggest advertisers. the tenor of the communications was that, as soon as existing contracts expired, the twenty-seven biggest would do their urban advertising by means of s. a. s. a. sandwiches. they expected to reach the suburbs through fashion journals, circulars, and local media. the advertising managers smiled, not only at the palpable bluff, but at the evidence of an infantile conspiracy. before ten o'clock, however, the vast crowds in front of their very doors made them swear. scores of sandwich men, advertising the said twenty-seven shops and the day's bargains, were parading up and down, causing said crowds to collect and to comment audibly and admiringly. the advertising managers rushed to the managing editors to tell than that something must be done to prevent their sudden death. the managing editors, to a man, recalled h. r.'s prophecy of the marvelous growth of the most effective form of advertising. "that h. r.," said the managing editor of the _times_, "is a wizard!" "you fellows made him," bitterly retorted the business manager. "he's had more free advertising than i can book in a hundred and ten years!" "why, he particularly asked me not to mention sandwiches!" "well, by gad, you'd better not!" then, "what d'ye want?" he snarled at his first assistant, who came in with a sheet of paper in his right hand and a look of perplexity in both eyes. the assistant silently gave him the copy: all the leading shops and the big department stores of greater new york are using our sandwiches. they employ the best advertising talent in the world. their experts unanimously have decided that sandwiching is the highest form of advertising yet discovered. it is the cheapest when returns and results are considered. are you using our sandwiches, mr. merchant? they will move your shop to fifth avenue. try it! employ only union men. society american sandwich artists, allied arts building. for the first time in history the familiar o. k. h. r., _sec._ was absent. it bore out the managing editor's assertion of h. r.'s distaste of publicity. "go out and lasso your maverick advertisers," said the managing editor, sternly, after he had read the s. a. s. a. advertisement--full-page, too! "i'll take care of the news columns." "the damned sandwich men are so thick in this town i'll have trouble in breaking through their lines." "use dynamite!" said the managing editor, savagely. he owned ten bonds of his own paper. he then summoned the city editor and said, sternly: "mr. welles, under no circumstances whatever must this paper mention sandwiches or sandwich advertising or the s. a. s. a." "did you see their latest exploit? two hundred and seventy-six sandwiches to the block, by actual count. talk about high art!" "they have commercialized it," frowned the managing editor. "not a line--ever!" the same thing must have happened in all the other offices. the public talked about the advertising revolution and the wonderful new styles in boards; and they looked in the next morning's papers to get all the picturesque details, as usual. not a word! xxx h. r. called, shortly after ten o'clock the next morning, at the ketcham national bank to discuss with his father-in-law-to-be interest rates on the balance he did not yet have. mr. goodchild had slept over the matter. he had spent an hour in going over his annoyances and humiliations, and had failed himself with a wrath that became murderous anger when he compelled himself to realize that h. r. had it in his power to intensify the troubles of the goodchild family. the marriage of h. r. with his daughter became worse than preposterous; it was a species of blackmail against which there was no defense. he could not reach h. r. by means of the law or by speech or by violence. when his anger cooled, however, he saw that what he had done was to pay the young man the greatest compliment an elderly millionaire can pay anybody. the more formidable your enemy is, the less disgraceful is your defeat. mr. goodchild was as intelligent a man as one is apt to find in the office of the president of a bank; but he was susceptible, as all men are, to self-inflicted flattery. he therefore decided that h. r. was a problem to be tackled in cold blood, with both eyes open and prayer in the heart. the only plan of action he could think of was proposing to h. r. to accomplish an impossibility; in fact, two impossibilities. he also would treat h. r. amicably. "good morning, young man!" he said, pleasantly. "morning!" said h. r., briskly. "now let's get down to cases. i expect you to--" "hold on!" said mr. goodchild, coldly, in order to keep from saying it hotly. "aren't you a trifle premature?" "no," said h. r. "i find i can give you a few minutes to-day." "you'll have to use some of those minutes in listening to me," said mr. goodchild, trying to look as though this was routine business. "i'll listen," h. r. assured him, kindly. "you will admit that you have given me cause to--well, not to feel especially friendly toward you." "big men are above petty feelings," said h. r. "you will, in turn, admit that you made a mistake in not advancing me in the bank-- wait! i'll listen later, as long as you wish. you object, i suppose, to my methods; but let me point out to you that i have arrived! where should i be if i hadn't been talked about? and where shall i land if i keep on hypnotizing the newspapers into giving me columns of space? you know what publicity means in business to-day, don't you? well, just bear in mind that i not only make news, but, by jingo, i am news! there is only one other man in the united states who can say that, and you may have to vote for him for president, notwithstanding your fear of him. wait!" h. r. held up his hand, took out his watch, and went on: "for an entire minute think of what i have said before you answer. don't answer until the time is up. one minute. begin! now!" h. r. held his hand detainingly two inches in front of mr. goodchild's lips. mr. goodchild did not open them. he thought and thought, and he became conscious that he had to argue with himself to find said answer. "speak!" commanded h. r. when the minute was up. "the cases are not analogous. publicity has its uses and--" "it has this one use--that you can always capitalize it. it spells dollars--and, more than that, easy dollars, untainted dollars, dollars that nobody begrudges you and that nobody wants to take away from you--not even the administration at washington. think over that for two minutes. and he pulled out his watch once more. "look here, i--" "damn it, don't talk! think!" said h. r. so determinedly that mr. goodchild almost feared a scene would be enacted which he should regret after seeing it in the newspapers. "you have wasted forty seconds in overcoming your anger at my manner of speech," continued h. r., reprovingly. "begin all over. two minutes. now!" and before mr. goodchild's wrath could become articulate he rose and walked over to a window. h. r. stared across the street. it was there he had captured fleming. how far away that day seemed now--and how far below! the two minutes were up. he turned to mr. goodchild. "look here; you bank presidents are an unscientific lot. you ought to be psychologists instead of being merely bookkeepers. it is knowledge of people you need--not of human nature at its worst, or of political economy, or of finance, but of people--the people who vote; the people who in the end say whether you are to be allowed to enjoy your money and theirs in comfort or not. study them! you sit here and disapprove of my methods because they violate some rule established years ago by somebody as radical then as i appear to be now. it is not a question of good taste or bad taste. it was good taste once to kill each other in duels, and to drink two bottles of port, and to employ children in factories. the suffragettes are attacked for methods--" "do you mean to say you approve of their slashing pictures--" "that is beside the question. if the suffragettes stuck to ladylike speeches and circulars they would be merely a joke at the club. the right of women to vote is a problem. well, the suffragettes have made themselves exactly that--a problem! if they have not a sense of relative values it is because they don't get me to run their campaign for them. i could succeed without destroying one masterpiece. maybe i will--some day. and then i could marry ten bankers' daughters if i were not in love with one. let's come back to our own business. do you think i have brains?" "well--" "no, no! remember what i have said to you and consider whether it is asinine; and think of what i have done and ponder whether it shows hustling and executive ability, and those qualities that mean the power to develop the individual bank account. am i an ass or have i brains?" "yes; but--" "all men of brains at all times have had more buts than bouquets thrown at them. i tell you now that i have gone about this business for the purpose of getting there. to become news, to be interesting to the public in some way--in any way--is the quickest way. then you can pick your own way, a way that will commend itself to the well-bred nonentities who never accomplish anything. well, i am famous; and it's up to me to decide what i shall do in the future to take advantage of the fact that when people hear of h. r., or see those two initials in print, they look for something interesting to follow. the least of my troubles is that i shall become one of your respected depositors. i don't drink; i am healthy--no taint of any kind, hereditary or acquired; i don't have to lie to get what i want or cheat to get all the money i need--and i need a lot. i've got ideas, and i don't fall down in carrying them out, because i don't go on at half-cock. i never move until i see my destination; and if there is a wall ahead i have my scaling-ladder all ready long before i arrive at the wall." h. r. paused, and then went on more slowly: "when you get over your soreness at the raw deal the newspapers have given you, you will be glad to have a man of brains in your house. i don't want you to give grace anything; but i tell you now i'm going to marry her, and you'd better begin to be reconciled to the idea of having me for a son-in-law. i want to be your friend, because i'm quite sure you will not enjoy having me for your enemy--not after i begin the counter attack." it is always the delivery that does it, as demosthenes triply assured posterity. mr. goodchild's eyes had not left h. r.'s face and he had listened intently to the speech. he did not grasp in full all that h. r. had said; but what really had emptied mr. goodchild of anger, and filled him with an interest which was not very different from respect, was the delivery. h. r.'s faculty of knowing how to speak to a particular auditor was instinctive. it always is, with all such men, whether they are famous or obscure, orators or life-insurance agents. it is very simple when you are born with it. mr. goodchild, however, finding his own weapons of offense more dangerous to himself than to the foe, fell back on defense. to do so, he naturally began with a lie. that is the worst of verbal defenses. "i don't object to you personally. i--i even admit that i made a mistake in not promoting you, though i don't know what position you could have filled here that would have suited you--" "none; because you don't realize that banks need modernizing. none! skip all that and get back to me as your son-in-law." mr. goodchild, thinking of his two plans which were his one hope, asked, abruptly: "are you a man of your word?" "since i have brains, i am. are you?" "i object to your methods. your speech i might overlook, though it comes hard. i am speaking plainly. now you are known as the sandwich man. that would bar you from my club and from ever becoming a really--" "but that will stop. it will stop to-day. i have told grace that within a month nobody will ever connect my name with sandwiches." "will you agree not to marry or seek to marry my daughter, or annoy us in any way--in short, if a month from now you are still famous as the organizer of the sandwiches, will you stop trying to be my son-in-law?" "sure thing!" promised h. r., calmly. mr. goodchild was distrustful and looked it, which made h. r. add, impressively: "i'll give you my word that after to-day i'll never even try to see you or grace, or write to her, or revenge myself on you. so far as i am concerned i'll cease to exist for you. and here's my hand on it." he held out his hand in such a manner that mr. goodchild took it and shook it with the warmth of profound relief. then he said, heartfully: "if you do that--" "don't worry! it won't kill my business. i'll be just as famous as ever." "the newspapers made you. their silence will unmake you." "oh no!" and h. r. smiled as one smiles at a child. mr. goodchild almost felt as though his head had been kindly patted. "why not?" he asked. "sandwiching is here to stay and--and my companies are organized. i'll change the dummy directors as soon as you and i decide which of your friends and clients shall be permitted to buy some of the stock my men haven't sold. for cash, understand! the newspapers have done their work. the newspapers in this instance are like incubators. i put in an egg. the incubator hatched it. then i took the chick out of the incubator. suppose the incubator now refuses to keep up the temperature of - / degrees fahrenheit necessary to hatch the egg? suppose the incubator gets stone cold? well, let it! the chick is out and growing. and let me tell you right now that i am not going to let wall street financiers get their clutches on my chick. they'd caponize it. talking about interest rates--" "how big a balance do you expect to keep with us?" asked mr. goodchild. he did not like to admit the surrender. "it depends on you." h. r. pulled out his watch, looked at the time, snapped it shut, and said: "i haven't time to go over the business; but i'll send one of my office men to tell you all you want to know. listen to him and then ask him any questions you wish. so far as you and i are concerned we are beyond the sandwich stage. i'll send barrett to you this afternoon. and, believe me, you are going to be my father-in-law. good morning!" he left the office without offering to shake hands. on his way out h. r. stopped to speak to mr. coster, to whom he owed so much for having led him, as a clerk with the springtime in his blood, to the president's office to be discharged. "well, old top, here i be!" said h. r., kindly humorous in order to remove all restraint. "how do you do, mr. rutgers?" said coster, respectfully. the clerks looked at their erstwhile fellow-slave furtively, afraid to be caught looking. was this hendrik rutgers? was this what a man became when he ceased to be a clerk? ah, but a salary! something coming in regularly at the end of the week, rain or shine! gee! but some men are born lucky! xxxi h. r. returned to his office feeling that the big battle was about to begin. the preliminary skirmishes he had won. he had captured fame and must now begin his real attack on fortune. he spent an hour dictating plans of campaign for his various companies. shortly before noon he told the stenographer to call up miss goodchild and inform her that mr. rutgers would be there in half an hour. he had promised not to call on grace for a month after that day. he must not make love to her. he was determined to keep his promise; but she must not forget him. he had accustomed her to his impetuous wooing. in thirty days of inaction much might be undone if he did nothing. he was punctual. he found grace waiting for him, curious to know what had happened at h. r.'s conference with her father at the bank. her curiosity made her forget many other things. she expected a characteristic greeting from h. r., but his face was so full of adamantine resolution that her curiosity promptly turned into vague alarm. she had told herself she did not love him, but instinctively she now walked toward him quickly. "what is it?" she asked. he waved her back and said, hastily: "stop right where you are! don't come any nearer. for the love of mike, don't!" she had been thinking of treating him coldly, to keep him at a distance. "what is it?" she asked again, and again advanced. "don't!" said h. r., with a frown. she now felt alarmed, without giving herself any reason for it. "wh-what's the m-matter?" she asked. "you!" he answered. "you!" she stared at him. he was looking at her so queerly that naturally she thought something had happened to her face. she looked into the mirror on her right. it was not so. another look fully confirmed this. so she looked at him. his expression had lost some of its anxiety. "i promised your dad," he explained, "that i would not see you after to-day, or call here, or try to make love to you by mail, or annoy you or him in any way until i had wiped the sandwich stain off your surname. i have a month in which to do it, and i promised all that! one month! not to see you! but--" he looked at her so hungrily that, born and bred in new york though she was, she blushed hotly and turned her face away. then she felt the thrill by which victory is made plain to the defeated. "but--but--" repeated h. r. through his clenched teeth, and took a step toward her. whatever she saw in his face made her smile and say, challengingly: "but what?" being very wise, he caught his breath and said, sharply: "don't do that!" "do what?" she asked, innocently, and kept on smiling. "i will not see you!" "you won't?" she ceased to smile, in order to look skeptical. "no, i won't; i'll keep my word, grace." he was speaking very earnestly now. "i love you--all of you; the good and the bad, your wonderful woman's soul and your perennial childishness. you are so beautiful in so many ways that you yourself cannot know how completely beautiful you are. but i love more than your beauty. after it is all over you will realize that i can be trusted implicitly. never has man been put to such a task. don't you know--can't you see what i am doing?" she knew; she saw. she felt herself mistress of the situation. she therefore said, softly: "i shouldn't want you to commit suicide here." hearing no reply, she looked at him. he was ready for it. she saw his nostrils dilate and his fists clench and unclench. "then i won't see you. but--but you can see me," he said. she frowned. he went on: "i shall lunch every day at jerry's--small table in the northeast corner. at one o'clock every day for a whole month." did he expect her to run after him? she said, very coldly: "that wouldn't be fair." "if you go to jerry's for luncheon with one of your girl friends, and you see me eating alone, keeping bushels of wonderful news all to myself, is that making love to you?" "yes." "no!" he contradicted, flatly. "but i'll do more-- i'll let you tell mrs. vandergilt that you own the only engine of destruction available against man's stupidity." knowing that he was alluding to her beauty, she said: "what are you talking about?" "well, i belong to you, don't i? and if women are to get the vote can't you tell dear ethel's mother--" "do you mean old mrs. vandergilt?" she interrupted. "yes." "then say so." "i will," he meekly promised. "you tell the old lady that you will insure success for the cause by lending me to her. i've got a scheme that will do more in a month than all the suffragettes have accomplished in fifty years. you might get ethel interested in my plan--" "i won't!" she smiled the forgiving smile that infuriates. she lost her head. "you think i am jeal--that i'm--" "i think not of you, but of myself, and of how i may keep my promise to your father and survive. if you see me, and can talk to me, i shall live honorably. will you shake hands?" he held out his right hand. she ignored it. he deliberately took hers and led her to a chair. "will you do what i ask, dear?" he entreated, humbly. "no!" she stood there, cold, disdainful, refusing everything--even to sit down. "then," he said, tensely, "then i must--" he seized her in his arms and kissed her unresponsive lips. "i am not making love to you," he murmured. "i am not!" and he kissed her again. "i promised not to see you; and i won't--not even if you see me." he released her and was silent. she looked up and saw that his eyes were tightly closed. "i'll be there," she said, triumphantly, "at one o'clock." "i am a man of my word!" he said, fiercely. "every day!" she added, with decision. she did not know that this wifelike attitude thrilled him as not even the kisses had; but he said, earnestly: "no. i'm going now. it's good-by for a month. for a whole month!" "northeast corner table," she said, audibly, as though to herself. "northeast cor--" "play fair!" he urged. "amuse yourself with mrs. vandergilt." he looked at her as though he desired her to occupy herself with some hobby for thirty days. the sight of her face, and nothing else that she could see, made him say, "good-by!" and he almost ran out of the room. she went up-stairs to get her gloves. on second thought she called ethel on the telephone and invited her to luncheon at jerry's. he was waiting for her at the northeast corner table when she and ethel went in. grace, who had been looking toward the southwest corner, where the exit to the kitchen was, turned casually and saw him. "there's hendrik!" she said to ethel. he had not risen. he looked up casually now and approached them. "i was born lucky," he told them, and shook hands with grace. to miss vandergilt he said, very seriously, "are you grace's friend?" "i'm more than that," answered ethel; "i am the best friend she's got." "then i am doubly lucky. i have a table, ethel. i want you to be a witness to the miracle." there was no reason why he should call miss vandergilt by her first name. even ethel looked it. but h. r. merely said: "take this chair, grace. ethel--here." "it seems to me--" began grace, coldly. "your friends are my friends. the miracle, ethel, is that i've promised not to make love to grace for a whole month--thirty days; forty-three thousand two hundred precious wasted minutes!" "don't you sleep?" interjected ethel, curiously. "my poor carcass does, but not my thoughts of her. now let us eat and be miserable." it was a wonderful luncheon. h. r. let them do all the talking. he was at his coffee when ethel mentioned her mother. "ah, yes!" said h. r. "by the way, has grace told her?" "told her what?" grace caught his eye and shook her head with a frown. "very well, dear girl," he said to her. to ethel he explained, "she doesn't wish me to tell you of her plan." "oh, do! please!" said ethel, eagerly. "i'm in training for the position of her husband, ethel," h. r. told her. "she says no--that's all; plain no!" "grace, tell him to tell me!" said ethel. "shall i, grace?" smiled h. r. ethel looked at her and smiled. it made grace so furious that she said: "i have no control over his speech." "then, ethel, it is only that grace has a plan for a suffrage campaign that--well, it isn't for me to boast of her strategy; but it's a sure winner. i thought she would tell your mother." "it doesn't interest me," said grace, very coldly, being hot within. "it will after you're married," observed ethel, sagely. "that depends on whom i marry," said grace, casually. "so it does," assented h. r., calmly. "i agree with hendrik," said ethel, more subtly personal than grace thought necessary; so she pushed back her chair and took up her gloves. "same table, same time--to-morrow?" h. r. said this to grace so that ethel could hear it. "no," said grace. "very well," he said, meekly. "i'll be here just the same--in case." she shook her head. ethel, who was carefully not looking, saw her do it. grace did not appear the next day, but ethel did, properly accompanied by her own mother. they walked toward the northeast corner, on their way to a near-by table. h. r. rose and approached them. "just in time," he said to them. "thursday always was my lucky day." they sat down. to the waiter he said: "tell the chef--for three; for me." "yes, mr. rutgers," said the waiter, very deferentially. "what have you up your sleeve, mrs. vandergilt? and how near is victory?" "you mean--" "the cause!" said h. r., reverently. "i never heard you express an opinion," said mrs. vandergilt, suspiciously. "you have expressed them for me far better than i could. mine isn't a deep or philosophical mind," he apologized to the mind that was. "i merely understand publicity and how sheeplike men are." "if you understand that, you understand a great deal," remarked mrs. vandergilt, sententiously. "grace thought--" began h. r., and caught himself in time. "you haven't talked to her about it?" "grace?" "miss goodchild." "no. why should i?" "no reason--only that she has what i, as a practical man, in my low-brow way, think is a winner. of course the suffrage has long since passed the polemical stage. the question does not admit of argument. the right is admitted by all men. but what all men don't admit is the wrong. and all men don't admit it, because all women don't." "that is true," said mrs. vandergilt, vindictively. "any woman," pursued h. r., earnestly, "can make any man give her anything she wants. therefore, if all the women wanted all the men to give them anything, the men would give it. a woman can't always take something from a man; but she can always get it. to put it on the high plane of taking it as a right may be noble; but what i want is results. so long as i get results, nothing short of murder, lying, or ignoble wheedling can stop me. grace and i went all over that; but she seems to have lost interest--" "yes, she has," confirmed ethel, so amiably that h. r. smiled gratefully; and that annoyed ethel. "you have asked for justice," pursued h. r., addressing himself to mrs. vandergilt; "but it is at the ignoble side of man that you must shoot. it is a larger target--easier to hit." "but--" began mrs. vandergilt. "if i were a woman my dream should be to serve under you and implicitly obey all orders. i'd distribute dynamite as cheerfully as handbills. without competent marshals do you imagine napoleon could have done what he did? "don't i know it?" said mrs. vandergilt, bitterly. "how would you go about it?" interjected ethel, who had grown weary of her own silence. "i'd get the marshals. i'd get subordinates that, when your mother said 'do thus and so!' she could feel sure would obey orders. the general strategy must come from her." "i've said that until i was black in the face," said mrs. vandergilt. "i've told them--" and the great leader talked and talked, while h. r. stopped eating to listen with his very soul. with such a listener mrs. vandergilt was at her best. "mother, the squab is getting cold," said ethel. "the next time it will be cold in advance," said h. r., impatiently. "go on, mrs. vandergilt!" but mrs. vandergilt, knowing she could not finish at one luncheon, shook her head graciously and invited h. r. to dinner the next evening. "i can hardly wait!" murmured h. r. xxxii the dinner at mrs. vandergilt's home was h. r.'s initial social triumph. the first thing he did was to confess to mrs. vandergilt that what he desired above all things was to be her military secretary. all he asked was to serve the cause so long as she led, and no longer. "i hate failures," he told her. "i don't propose to be identified with any. if i did not see in you what i do i should not be here. i know creative genius when i see it. you paint the picture. i am only the frame-maker--necessary, but not among the immortals." "you are more than that," she assured him, with a smile. he shook his head. "i can fool the rabble; but you know the trick! organize your personal staff. fire them with your own enthusiasm. of course they won't all have brains; but they will do to stop gaps and follow instructions." and mrs. vandergilt, in order that all might know that great minds acknowledged a greater mind, cracked up h. r. to the sky. h. r.'s success was all the greater since he made a point of declining most invitations. he was seen only where most people wished to be seen. that made him talked about. grace heard about his stupendous social success. since the demand for h. r.'s presence came from her social equals, he was at last a desirable possession. she stayed away from jerry's in a mood of anger that naturally made it impossible for her to stop thinking of h. r. meantime h. r. regularly, every day, sent a complete file of newspapers to the goodchild residence. by his orders the public sentiment corps bombarded the editors with requests for information as to the society of american sandwich artists, and of sandwiching in general. he prepared learned and withal highly interesting articles on sandwiches, their history and development. he suggested over divers signatures that all court notices should be brought to the public's notice by sandwiches, thereby getting nearer to the picturesque town-crier of our sainted forefathers. not a single communication was printed. the department stores were holding out for lower advertising rates. many of the letters asked questions about h. r. in his capacity as the greatest living authority on sandwiches. these, also, were ignored. on the other hand, to show they were not prejudiced, the papers continued to run the charity page and used suggestions furnished by h. r., giving him full credit when it came to philanthropies that had nothing to do with sandwiches. the series of harrowing radiographs of diseased viscera, published with success by the most conservative of the evening journals, was one of h. r.'s subtlest strokes. and prominent persons took to contributing checks and articles, both signed in full, in response to h. r.'s occasional appeals in aid of deserving destitution. then the public sentiment corps began to ask, with a marvelous diversity of chirography and spelling, why h. r. did not undertake to secure votes for women and employment for men. mrs. vandergilt, when asked about it by the reporters, replied: "h. r. is my most trusted adviser. just wait! when we are ready to move we'll begin; and there will be no stopping us this time!" they published her remarks and her photograph, and also h. r.'s. mr. goodchild had tried, one after another, to get all the newspapers to attack h. r. viciously--then to poke fun at him; and he had failed utterly. when he read the vandergilt interview, on his way home that evening, he decided to speak to grace. "mrs. vandergilt is crazy," he said. "have they sent her away?" asked grace, her face full of excitement. poor ethel! "not yet; but i see she has taken up that--that--" "hendrik?" asked grace, and frowned. mr. goodchild nodded. then he asked, suspiciously: "you haven't seen him?" "yes; but not to--well, he hasn't made--he has kept his word to you. and the newspapers don't print anything about sandwiches." "no--damn 'em!" he muttered. "i thought you didn't want them to." "i don't want you to have anything to do with him. it is perfectly absurd to think of marrying a fellow like that--" "he can marry anybody now," she told him. thinking of this made her so angry that she said, "he hypnotizes people so they think he is--" "i know what he is," he interrupted. "i'd like to--" "i suppose you would," she acquiesced; "but you can't deny he is an extraordinary person, and--" "do you love him?" he interrupted. grace hesitated. she had to in order to be honest. "i--i don't know," she answered, finally. "great scott! do you mean to say you don't know that?" "no; i don't," she replied, tartly. she thought of h. r., of all he had done, of all he had said to her, of all he might yet do. and then she thought of the way h. r. had been taken up by the people at whose homes she dined and danced. she shook her head dubiously. "well, finish!" said her father, impatiently. "he makes people do what he wants them to," she said, slowly; "though he says he will do what i wish him to do, and--" "can you make him do what he doesn't want to do?" challenged her father, with his first gleam of sense. she thought of h. r.'s love of her. "yes," she said, thrilled at the thought of her power. "then make him give you up!" her father permitted himself a smile of incredulity, which made her say: "i will!" mr. goodchild rose. he patted her cheek encouragingly and said: "i think you will, my dear." "i am going to make him--" "i beg pardon, but miss goodchild is wanted at the telephone, sir," announced frederick. grace went to answer the phone. it was marion molyneux who spoke. "is it true, grace, that your engagement with h. r. is off?" "who told you?" naturally asked grace before she could think of anything else. "why, everybody is talking about it; and--" "everybody knows my business better than i do." "well, they say mrs. vandergilt doesn't give him time to--" "is he engaged to her?" "oh, dear! you are angry, aren't you? well, i am glad it isn't true. good-by." how could the engagement be off when it never had been on? grace made up her mind to talk to him very plainly, for the last time, that evening. she knew he would be at the vandergilts' dinner dance that night. well, she was going there, anyhow. therefore she went. she almost had to elbow her way to where he stood. mrs. vandergilt was beside him; but grace could see that h. r. owned the house. "how do you do, my dear?" said mrs. vandergilt, so very graciously that grace was filled with fury. it was plain that h. r. was making a professional politician of mrs. vandergilt. grace smiled at her--that is, she made her lips do it mechanically. then she addressed the fiancé to whom she was not engaged: "hendrik!" that was all she actually said, but, with her eyes, in the manner known only to women who are sure they are not in love, she commanded him to follow her. "you see him all the time and we don't get a chance very often," protested a vulgar little thing whose father was a financial pirate of the first rank and had given her all the predatory instincts. "go on, h. r.! tell us some more. do!" grace's eyes grew very bright and hard, and her cheeks flushed. "i have news for you," she said to h. r., calmly ignoring the others. "i am sorry, children," said h. r., regretfully. "business before pleasure." "your business," persisted the vulgar little thing, "is to obey!" "hence my exit," he said, and followed grace. she led the way to the conservatory. she was conscious of her own displeasure. this enabled her to dispense with the necessity of finding reasons for her own feelings. she halted beside an elaborately carved marble seat, built for two, and motioned for him to sit down. he looked at her. she then said: "sit down!" he obeyed. then she sat beside him. the seat was skilfully screened by palms and ferns. "i had a little talk with father this morning," she went on, and frowned--in advance. "you poor thing!" he murmured, sympathetically, as though he were thinking of what she must have suffered. as a matter of fact his mind was full of the conviction that she herself did not know which way she was going to jump and it behooved him to pick the right way. "he asked me whether i loved you," she went on, sternly. "well, the answer to that was an easy syllable. when we go back you tell mrs. vandergilt that you have decided to allow me to serve under her. don't worry; i'll be the boss. ethel has played up like a trump--" "i told him i didn't," she interrupted. "you couldn't have told him that!" he smiled easily. "there was no occasion for it. now tell me exactly what you did say to him." he could see anger in her eyes--the kind of anger that is at least a first cousin to hatred. "i said--" "the exact words." the change in his voice made her look at him. his eyes, keen, masterful, were fixed on hers. they looked hard, yet not altogether ruthless; and particularly they looked as though they could read thoughts with no effort, which made it necessary to tell the truth. "i told him i didn't know," she said. to preserve her self-respect she sneered. "what a wonderful girl you are!" in his eyes she saw a great admiration. she could not tell what it was this man considered so wonderful; but, whatever it was, he knew exactly--and she did not! "if i really loved you, shouldn't i know it?" "of course not. you are not the surrendering kind. the others are--born slaves, diminutive souls, toys, little pets. souls like yours don't marry; they mate with an eagle! you will love me as i love you. and then there is nothing that we, together, cannot do! nothing!" she opened her mouth, but he checked her speech by saying, sternly: "why do you think it is that, having loved you, i cannot love any one else? because i alone know what you are and what you will be! grace, i promised your father i would not make love to you until i had deleted one word from our visiting-cards. it is done; but the month isn't up quite, and i won't make love to you. that's flat! i can't break my word." he looked so determined that naturally she looked away and said, very softly: "and--and if i should want you to?" "you should want me to make love to you, but not to break my word!" "but you say you love me," she complained. "love you!" it flamed in his eyes and his hand reached for hers; but he checked himself abruptly. she extended her hand, but he edged away from her. she drew nearer to him. he retreated to the very edge of the seat. she was pursuing now. he bit his lip and frowned. she no longer thought of other things. she knew he could not retreat any farther. she covered his hand with hers. he suddenly clutched it so tightly that he hurt her, and that gave her the fierce joy of success in love as she understood it. she felt like shouting: "hurt me! hurt me! i've got you!" but what she did was to murmur: "hendrik!" "what?" he said, hoarsely, resolutely keeping his eyes from looking into hers. "hendrik, do you really love me?" "my promise!" he whispered, tensely, and looked at her pleadingly. "don't, dear!" she understood him perfectly; so she smiled. it was her iron will against his. he must do what he did not wish to do, and do it because she wished it! she did not wish to kiss him; but she wished, hypnotist-like, to compel him to kiss her. with her eyes she beckoned him to come closer. knowing that this would clinch it he stared back at her with a pitiful appeal in his troubled eyes, and shook his head weakly, as though his soul, thinking of his honor, was saying: "no, no! please don't!" her face moved toward him a little and stopped. something within her was stamping its foot, saying: "yes! yes!"--like a peevish child. h. r., continuing to follow the subtle strategy of the reversed position, stared fascinatedly at her lips. then slowly, like a man in a trance, his face moved toward hers. on the very brink he paused and said, brokenly: "no! oh, my darling! no! no!" she said nothing, in order not to commit herself; but she smiled at him, while her eyes, luminous and blue, pounded away on his resolve, battering it to pieces. nearer his face came--nearer--until his lips reached hers. his honor had been wrecked on the coral reef; but all she knew, and all she cared to know, was that she had won! she was so certain of it and showed it so plainly that he knew he had better make it doubly sure; so he pressed his cheek against hers, that she might not see his face while he murmured: "now you can't cast me off!" it was an entreaty, with the nature of which she was familiar from her literary studies; and her answer, eminently feminine, was: "never, dearest!" he started to his feet abruptly. "don't follow me!" he said, harshly, and walked away very quickly. when she rejoined the crush in the drawing-room she learned that h. r. had excused himself on the plea of urgent business and had gone. "what is he going to do?" they asked her, eagerly. they were sure it was something picturesque, but she saw in their excited wonderment the appraisal of her victory. the displeasure and suspicion in mrs. vandergilt's eyes gave her intense joy. she was willing to pay for her victory. he loved her! she could make him do whatever she wished. it did not matter whether she loved him or not. there was now no reason, that she could see, why she should not marry him--if the worst came to the worst. xxxiii grace did not hear from h. r. the next morning as she fully expected. since expectation is disguised desire, she was vexed by his silence. she had conquered. why did he not acknowledge? she obeyed what she would have called a sudden impulse of no particular significance and called up his office. andrew barrett answered. he told her that h. r. had gone away--nobody knew whither--and would not return until the following thursday. h. r.'s move was so mysterious that it could mean but one thing: he was running away! merely to make sure of it, she went to jerry's at one o'clock. the northeast corner table was there, but not h. r. however, she sat down and waited. she ordered her luncheon herself, irritated at having to do what he should have done. if it was business that kept h. r. away, she ought to know it. the right to know everything was part of the spoils. when he came back there would be no more ignorance--ever again! at three o'clock she went home. but as the days passed she became uneasy. h. r. was the only human being she completely dominated. brooding on his inexplicable absence, her thoughts came more and more to take the form of the question that victrices always ask of high heaven: "have i lost him?" that made her love him. at noon on the th of may he telephoned to her: "meet me at the plaza at four--for tea. don't fail! good-by!" "wait!" she exclaimed, angrily, rebellion surging within her by reason of his dictatorial tone of voice. she had been very anxious to see him, but not at that price. he had wisely hung up the receiver, however. that compelled her to do what he had told her to do. she had something to say to him. she found him sitting at a small table in the palm room. ethel vandergilt and reggie van duzen were with him. she approached him frowning, because she ran the usual gantlet of stares, and overheard the usual murmurs: "that's grace goodchild! do you think she is as pretty as--" ethel greeted her affectionately, and reggie looked proud to be there. he was a worshipper of the dynamic h. r. but all that h. r. himself said, in his exasperatingly peremptory voice, was: "month is up to-day. now for the test! tell ethel you want some sandwiches!" grace started slightly and realized that ethel had not overheard h. r.--he had taken care that she should not. "no! i--i'm afraid, hendrik," she stammered, turning pale. women love to gamble--in their minds, when alone. "you? afraid? of anything?" he looked at her in pained amazement. "look at me!" she did. "i--i'll marry you any--anyway," she said, to show it was not cowardice, but the reverse. "play the game!" he said, sternly. before she knew it she obeyed. she sat down limply and said: "ethel, i w-want a s-s-sandwich!" "you poor thing! you're actually faint with hunger. don't you want some bouillon? waiter!" "no; i want a sandwich!" said grace, loudly. you would have thought she had said, "_jacta est alea!_" ethel and reggie heard grace use that word. people all about them knew who she was and had proudly told their out-of-town companions all about h. r. and grace goodchild. they, too, heard grace say she wanted a sandwich. not a soul smiled! not having seen anything about it in the newspapers for a month, new york had forgotten that h. r. had wooed grace with sandwiches. h. r. was as famous as ever, but his fellow-citizens no longer knew why or how. the waiter took the order with unsmiling respect. grace looked at h. r. almost with awe. he smiled reassuringly and asked her: "aren't you going to ask ethel?" "ask me what?" said ethel. grace was silent, because she was blushing like a silly thing in public. "on the eighth of june," said h. r. "i suppose you won't mind being a--" ethel naturally interrupted him by saying to grace: "i'm so glad! is it announced?" "you're the first one we've told, dear girl," h. r. declared, solemnly. "reggie, you will give me courage at the altar?" "will i?" chuckled reggie, proudly, and insisted on shaking hands. h. r. rewarded him. he said: "reggie, i'm going to let you help me in my campaign. i'm going to the assembly in the autumn." "albany!" said reggie, enthusiastically. "first stop on the way to washington! there was cleveland--and roosevelt; and now--" "oh, hendrik!" gasped grace. she would help him all she could--at the receptions. then she looked at ethel to see whether she, also, understood national politics. ethel did. she said, with conviction: "and we'll all vote for him, too!" the waiter laid a plate of sandwiches before grace. h. r. stared at them--a long time, as though he were crystal-gazing. he saw the labor-unions, the churches, the aristocracy, the bankers, the newspapers, the thoughtless, and the hungry; and all were with him and for him. he was the only man the socialists really feared. if he was h. r. to new york, why should he not become h. r. to the nation? he saw himself on the steps of the capitol on a th of march. it was typical rutgers weather. the mighty sun was trying its best to please him and incidentally tranquilizing big business by shining goldenly. the clouds, however, were pure silver--with an eye to the retail trade. in the distance he saw the monument erected with infinite pains to the one american who could not tell a lie. it was a great white finger pointing straight at heaven. it was as though george washington's stupendous gesture meant, "that is where i got it from!" that is the place from which everything good comes. it should not be difficult, h. r. thought, to convince his fellow-americans of it. they had been accustomed to reading, every day, "in god we trust." it was on all the dollars. "hendrik!" said grace. h. r. started from his dream and passed his hand over his eyes. "grace," he said to her resolutely, "my work is just beginning!" the end [transcriber's note: this text was printed as a twelve-page addition to the james de mille novel _an american baron_, published . the "pointing finger" symbol is shown here as -->. where available, the project gutenberg e-text number is given in brackets after each title. note that the e-text will probably not be based on the listed edition (harper & brothers, no later than ). full names of authors are given at the end of the e-text.] * * * * * * * * * * * * * * harper's library of select novels. 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hotspur of humblethwaite. by anthony trollope. illustrated . earl's dene. by r. e. francillon . daisy nichol. by lady hardy . bred in the bone. by the author of "carlyon's year" [ ] . fenton's quest. by miss braddon. illustrated [ ] . monarch of mincing-lane. by w. black. illustrated . a life's assize. by mrs. j. h. riddell . anteros. by geo. lawrence . her lord and master. by florence marryat . won--not wooed. by the author of "carlyon's year" . for lack of gold. by charles gibbon . anne furness. by the author of "mabel's progress" . a daughter of heth. by w. black . durnton abbey. by t. a. trollope --> _mailing notice. --harper & brothers will send their books by mail, postage free, to any part of the united states, on receipt of the price._ novels by standard authors published by harper & brothers, new york. harper & brothers publish, in addition to others, including their _library of select novels_, the following standard works of fiction: (_for full titles, see harper's 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[ ] vicar of bullhampton. illustrations. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . trollope's (t. a.)[*] lindisfarn chase. vo, cloth, $ : paper, $ . [* for other novels by the same author, see _library of select novels_.] the domestic life of thomas jefferson. compiled from family letters and reminiscences by his great-granddaughter, sarah n. randolph. _with illustrations._ crown vo, illuminated cloth, beveled edges, $ . this volume brings the life of jefferson in a brief space within the reach of all. while not writing of him as of the great man or statesman, miss randolph has given sufficient outline of the contemporary public events, especially of those in which jefferson was engaged, to make the history of his times sufficiently clear. her object, however, she says, has been to give a faithful picture of jefferson as he was in private life, and for this she was particularly well fitted. her biography is so artless, so frank, and so uncolored, differing so completely from the lives of public men as generally written. * * * this extremely interesting volume. --_richmond whig._ one of the most charming and entertaining of books, and its pages will be a source of continual surprise and pleasure to those who, while admiring the statesman, have had their admiration tempered by the belief that he was a demagogue, a libertine, a gamester, and a scoffer at religion. the age in which jefferson lived was one in which political rancors and animosities existed with no less bitterness than in our later day, and in which, moreover, mutual abuse and malignant recrimination were indulged in with equal fury and recklessness. charges were made against jefferson, by his political opponents, that clung to his good name and sullied it, making it almost a by-word of shame, and its owner a man whose example was to be shunned. the prejudices and calumnies then born have existed down to the present day; but the mists of evil report that have hemmed his life and his memory about are now clearing away, and this sunny book will dispel the last shadow they have cast, and will display the maligned victim of party hate in his true character--as a fond, an amiable, and a simple-hearted father; a firm friend; a truly moral and god-fearing citizen, and one of those few great men who have had the rare fortune to be likewise good men. --_boston saturday evening gazette._ the author of this charming book has had access to the best possible sources of information concerning the private character of mr. jefferson, embracing both the written testimony of his correspondence and the oral testimony of family tradition. from these materials, guided by a profound reverence for the subject, the writer has constructed a most interesting personal biography. * * * a most agreeable addition to american literature, and will revive the memory of a patriot who merits the respect and gratitude of his countrymen. --_philadelphia age._ this handsome volume is a valuable acquisition to american history. it brings to the public observation many most interesting incidents in the life of the third president; and the times and men of the republic's beginnings are here portrayed in a glowing and genial light. the author, in referring to the death-scenes of jefferson, reports sentiments from his lips which contradict the current opinion that the writer of the declaration of independence was an infidel. we are glad to make this record in behalf of truth. young people would find this book both entertaining and instructive. its style is fresh and compact. its pages are full of tender memories. the great man whose career is so charmingly pictured belongs to us all. --_methodist recorder._ there is no more said of public matters in it than is absolutely necessary to make it clear and intelligible; but we have jefferson, the man and the citizen, the husband, the father, the agriculturist, and the neighbor--the man, in short, as he lived in the eyes of his relatives, his closest friends, and his most intimate associates. he is the virginian gentleman at the various stages of his marvelous career, and comes home to us as a being of flesh and blood, and so his story gives a series of lively pictures of a manner of existence that has passed away, or that is so passing, for they are more conservative at the south, socially speaking, than are we at the north, though they live so much nearer the sun than we ever can live. * * * we can commend this book to every one who would know the main facts of mr. jefferson's public career, and those of his private life. it is the best work respecting him that has been published, and it is not so large as to repel even indolent or careless readers. it is, too, an ornamental volume, being not only beautifully printed and bound, but well illustrated. * * * every american should own the volume. --_boston traveller._ a charmingly compiled and written book, and it has to do with one of the very greatest men of our national history. there is scarcely one on the roll of our public men who was possessed of more progressive individuality, or whose character will better repay study, than thomas jefferson, and this biography is a great boon. --_n. y. evening mail._ both deeply interesting and valuable. the author has displayed great tact and taste in the selection of her materials and its arrangement. --_richmond dispatch._ a charming book. --_new orleans times._ it is a series of delightful home pictures, which present the hero as he was familiarly known to his family and his best friends, in his fields, in his library, at his table, and on the broad verandah at monticello, where all the sweetest flavors of his social nature were diffused. his descendant does not conceal the fact that she is proud of her great progenitor; but she is ingenious, and leaves his private letters mostly to speak for themselves. it has been thought that "a king is never a hero to his valet," and the proverb has been considered undeniable; but this volume shows that jefferson, if not exactly the "hero" to whom a little obscurity is so essential, was at least warmly loved and enthusiastically esteemed and admired by those who knew him best. the letters in this volume are full of interest, for they are chiefly published for the first time now. they show a conscientious gentleman, not at all given to personal indulgences, quick in both anger and forgiveness, the greatest american student of his time, excepting the cold-blooded hamilton, absolutely without formality, but particular and exacting in the extreme--just the man who carried his wife to the white house on the pillion of his gray mare, and showed a british embassador the door for an offense against good-breeding. --_chicago evening post._ the reader will recognize the calm and philosophic yet earnest spirit of the thinker, with the tenderness and playful amiability of the father and friend. the letters can not but shed a favorable light on the character of perhaps the best-abused man of his time. --_n. y. evening post._ no attempt is made in this volume to present its subject as a public man or as a statesman. it is simply sought to picture him as living in the midst of his domestic circle. and this it is which will invest the book with interest for all classes of readers, for all who, whatever their politics, can appreciate the beauty of a pure, loving life. * * * it is written in an easy, agreeable style, by a most loving hand, and, perhaps, better than any other biography extant, makes the reader acquainted with the real character of a man whose public career has furnished material for so much book-making. --_philadelphia inquirer._ the perusal of this interesting volume confirms the impression that whatever criticisms may be brought to bear upon the official career of mr. jefferson, or his influence upon the politics of this country, there was a peculiar charm in all the relations of his personal and social life. in spite of the strength of his convictions, which he certainly often expressed with an energy amounting to vehemence, he was a man of rare sunniness of temperament and sweetness of disposition. he had qualities which called forth the love of his friends no less than the hatred of his opponents. his most familiar acquaintance cherished the most ardent admiration of his character. his virtues in the circle of home won the applause even of his public adversaries. --_n. y. tribune._ it lifts up the curtain of his private life, and by numerous letters to his family allows us to catch a glimpse of his real nature and character. many interesting reminiscences have been collected by the author and are presented to the reader. --_boston commercial bulletin._ these letters show him to have been a loving husband, a tender father, and a hospitable gentleman. --_presbyterian._ jefferson was not only eloquent in state papers, but he was full of point and clearness amounting to wit in his minor correspondence. --_albany argus._ it is the record of the life of one of the most extraordinary men of any age or country. --_richmond inquirer._ with the public life of thomas jefferson the public is familiar, as without it no adequate knowledge is possible of the history of virginia or of the united states. its guiding principles and great events, as likewise its smallest details, have long been before the world in the "jefferson papers," and in the laborious history of randall. but to a full appreciation of the politician, the statesman, the publicist, and the thinker, there was still wanting some complete and correct knowledge of the man and his daily life amidst his family. this want miss randolph has endeavored most successfully to supply. as scarcely one of the founders of the republic had warmer friends, or exerted a deeper and a wider influence upon the country, so scarcely one encountered more bitter animosity or had to live down slander more envenomed. truth conquered in the end, and the foul rumors, engendered in partisan conflicts, against the private life of jefferson have long shrunk into silence in the light of his fame. nevertheless, it is well done of his descendant thus to place before the world his life as in his letters and his conversation it appeared from day to day to those nearest and dearest to him. nor is it a matter of small value to bring to our sight the interior life of our ancestors as it is delineated in the letters of jefferson, touching incidently on all the subjects of dress, food, manners, amusements, expenditures, occupations--in brief, neglecting nothing of what the men of those days were and thought and did. it is of such materials that consist the pictures of history whose gaunt outlines of battles, sieges, coronations, dethronements, and parliaments are of little worth without the living and breathing details of everyday existence. * * * the author has happily performed her task, never obtruding her own presence upon the reader, careful only to come forward when necessary to explain some doubtful point or to connect the events of different dates. she may be congratulated upon the grace with which she has both written and forborne to write, never being beguiled by the vanity of authorship or that too great care which is the besetting sin of biography. --_petersburg daily index._ it is a highly interesting book, not only as a portraiture of the domestic life of jefferson, but as a side view of the parties and politics of the day, witnessed in our country seventy years ago. the correspondence of the public characters at that period will be read with special interest by those who study the early history of our government. --_richmond christian observer._ in the unrestrained confidence of family correspondence, nature has always full sway, and the revelations presented in this book of mr. jefferson's real temper and opinions, unrestrained or unmodified by the caution called for in public documents, make the work not only valuable but entertaining. --_n. y. world._ the author has done her work with a loving hand, and has made a most interesting book. --_n. y. commercial advertiser._ it gives a picture of his private life, which it presents in a most favorable light, calculated to redeem jefferson's character from many, if not all, the aspersions and slanders which, in common with most public characters, he had to endure while living. --_new bedford standard._ the letters of jefferson are models of epistolary composition--easy, graceful, and simple. --_new bedford mercury._ the book is a very good picture of the social life not only of himself but of the age in which he lived. --_detroit post._ one of the most charming memoirs of the day. --_n. y. times._ the tom brown books. [illustration {arthur hughes}] _tom brown's school days._ [ ] by an old boy. new edition. beautifully illustrated by arthur hughes and sydney prior hall. vo, paper, cents. nothing need be said of the merits of this acknowledged on all hands to be one of the very best boy's books ever written. "tom brown" does not reach the point of ideal excellence. he is not a faultless boy; but his boy-faults, by the way they are corrected, help him in getting on. the more of such reading can be furnished the better. there will never be too much of it. --_examiner and chronicle._ can be read a dozen times, and each time with tears and laughter as genuine and impulsive as at the first. --_rochester democrat._ finely printed, and contains excellent illustrations. "tom brown" is a book which will always be popular with boys, and it deserves to be. --_world_ (n. y.). for healthy reading it is one book in a thousand. --_advance._ _tom brown at oxford._ by the author of "tom brown's school days." new edition. with illustrations by sydney prior hall. vo, paper, cents. a new and very pretty edition. the illustrations are exceedingly good, the typography is clear, and the paper white and fine. there is no need to say any thing of the literary merits of the work, which has become a kind of classic, and which presents the grand old tory university to the reader in all its glory and fascination. --_evening post._ a book of which one never wearies. --_presbyterian._ fairly entitled to the rank and dignity of an english classic. plot, style, and truthfulness are of the soundest british character. racy, idiomatic, mirror-like, always interesting, suggesting thought on the knottiest social and religious questions, now deeply moving by its unconscious pathos, and anon inspiring uproarious laughter, it is a work the world will not willingly let die. --_christian advocate._ _both books, in one volume, vo, cloth, $ ._ published by harper & brothers, new york. harper & brothers also publish _recollections of eton._ by an etonian. with illustrations. vo, paper, cents. --> _sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the united states, on receipt of the price._ two valuable household books published by harper & brothers, new york. our girls. by dio lewis, a.m., m.d. new edition. mo, cloth, $ . the book not only deserves to be read; it _will_ be read, because it is full of interest, concerning itself, as it does, with such matters as girls' boots and shoes; how girls should walk; low neck and short sleeves; outrages upon the body; stockings supporters; why are women so small? idleness among girls; sunshine and health; a word about baths; what you should eat; how to manage a cold; fat and thin girls, etc., etc. --_n. y. evening post._ dr. dio lewis has written a sensible and lively book. there is not a dull page in it, and scarcely one that does not convey some sound instruction. we wish the book could enter thousands of our homes, fashionable and unfashionable; for we believe it contains suggestions and teaching of precisely the kind that "our girls" every where need. --_n. y. independent._ this really important book. --_christian union._ written in dr. lewis's free and lively style, and is full of good ideas, the fruit of long study and experience, told in a sensible, practical way that commends them to every one who reads. the whole book is admirably sensible. --_boston post._ full of practical and very sensible advice to young women. --_episcopalian._ dr. lewis is well known as an acute observer, a man of great practical sagacity in sanitary reform, and a lively and brilliant writer upon medical subjects. --_n. y. observer._ we like it exceedingly. it says just what ought to be said, and that in style colloquial, short, sharp, and memorable. --_christian advocate._ the whole tone of the book is pure and healthy. --_albany express._ every page shows him to be in earnest, and thoroughly alive to the importance of the subjects he discusses. he talks like one who has a solemn message to deliver, and who deems the matter far more essential than the manner. his book is, therefore, a series of short, earnest appeals against the unnatural, foolish, and suicidal customs prevailing in fashionable society. --_churchman._ a timely and most desirable book. --_springfield union._ full of spicy, sharp things about matters pertaining to health; full of good advice, which, if people would but take it, would soon change the world in some very important respects; not profound or systematic, but still a book with numberless good things in it. --_liberal christian._ the author writes with vigor and point, and with occasional dry humor. --_worcester spy._ brimful of good, common-sense hints regarding dress, diet, recreation, and other necessary things in the female economy. --_boston journal._ dr. lewis talks very plainly and sensibly, and makes very many important suggestions. he does not mince matters at all, but puts every thing in a straightforward and, not seldom, homely way, perspicuous to the dullest understanding. his style is lively and readable, and the book is very entertaining as well as instructive. --_register_, salem, mass. one of the most popular of modern writers upon health and the means of its preservation. --_presbyterian banner._ there is hardly any thing that may form a part of woman's experience that is not touched upon. --_chicago journal._ the bazar book of decorum: care of the person, manners, etiquette, and ceremonials. mo, toned paper, cloth, beveled edges, $ . a series of sensible, well-written, and pleasant essays on the care of the person, manners, etiquette, and ceremonials. the title _bazar book_ is taken from the fact that some of the essays which make up this volume appeared originally in the columns of _harper's bazar_. this in itself is a sufficient recommendation--_harper's bazar_ being probably the only journal of fashion in the world which has good sense and enlightened reason for its guides. the "bazar book of decorum" deserves every commendation. --_independent._ a very graceful and judicious compendium of the laws of etiquette, taking its name from the _bazar_ weekly, which has become an established authority with the ladies of america upon all matters of taste and refinement. --_n. y. evening post._ it is, without question, the very best and most thorough work on the subject which has ever been presented to the public. --_brooklyn daily times._ it would be a good thing if at least one copy of this book were in every household of the united states, in order that all--especially the youth of both sexes--might read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest its wise instruction, pleasantly conveyed in a scholarly manner which eschews pedantry. --_philadelphia press._ abounds in sensible suggestions for keeping one's person in proper order, and for doing fitly and to one's own satisfaction the thousand social duties that make up so large a part of social and domestic life. --_correspondence of cincinnati chronicle._ full of good and sound common-sense, and its suggestions will prove valuable in many a social quandary. --_portland transcript._ a little work embodying a multitude of useful hints and suggestions regarding the proper care of the person and the formation of refined habits and manners. the subject is treated with good sense and good taste, and is relieved from tedium by an abundance of entertaining anecdotes and historical incident. the author is thoroughly acquainted with the laws of hygiene, and wisely inculcates them while specifying the rules based upon them which regulate the civilities and ceremonies of social life. --_evening post_, chicago. * * * it would be easy to quote a hundred curt, sharp sentences, full of truth and force, and touching points of behavior and personal habitude that concern us all. --_springfield republican._ by far the best book of the kind of which we have any knowledge. --_chicago journal._ an eminently sensible book. --_liberal christian._ --> _harper & brothers will send either of the above works by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the united states, on receipt of the price._ science for the young. by jacob abbott, author of "the young christian series," "marco paul series," "rainbow and lucky series," "little learner series," "franconia stories," illustrated histories, &c., &c. few men enjoy a wider or better earned popularity as a writer for the young than jacob abbott. his series of histories, and stories illustrative of moral truths, have furnished amusement and instruction to thousands. he has the knack of piquing and gratifying curiosity. in the book before us he shows his happy faculty of imparting useful information through the medium of a pleasant narrative, keeping alive the interest of the young reader, and fixing in his memory valuable truths. --_mercury_, new bedford, mass. jacob abbott is almost the only writer in the english language who knows how to combine real amusement with real instruction in such a manner that the eager young readers are quite as much interested in the useful knowledge he imparts as in the story which he makes so pleasant a medium of instruction. --_buffalo commercial advertiser._ heat: being part i. of _science for the young_. by jacob abbott. copiously illustrated. mo, illuminated cloth, black and gilt, $ . perhaps that eminent and ancient gentleman who told his young master that there was no royal road to science could admit that he was mistaken after examining one of the volumes of the series "science for the young," which the harpers are now bringing out. the first of these, "heat," by jacob abbott, while bringing two or three young travelers from a new york hotel across the ocean to liverpool in a cunarder, makes them acquainted with most of the leading scientific principles regarding heat. the idea of conveying scientific instruction in this manner is admirable, and the method in which the plan is carried out is excellent. while the youthful reader is skillfully entrapped into perusing what appears to be an interesting story, and which is really so, he devours the substance and principal facts of many learned treatises. surely this is a royal road for our young sovereigns to travel over. --_world_, n. y. it combines information with amusement, weaving in with a story or sketch of travel dry rules of mechanics or chemistry or philosophy. mr. abbott accomplishes this object very successfully. the story is a simple one, and the characters he introduces are natural and agreeable. readers of the volume, young and old, will follow it with unabating interest, and it can not fail to have the intended effect. --_jewish messenger._ it is admirably done. * * * having tried the book with children, and found it absolutely fascinating, even to a bright boy of eight, who has had no special preparation for it, we can speak with entire confidence of its value. the author has been careful in his statements of facts and of natural laws to follow the very best authorities; and on some points of importance his account is more accurate and more useful than that given in many works of considerable scientific pretensions written before the true character of heat as what tyndall calls "a mode of motion" was fully recognized. * * * mr. abbott has, in his "heat," thrown a peculiar charm upon his pages, which makes them at once clear and delightful to children who can enjoy a fairy tale. --_n. y. evening post._ * * * mr. abbott has avoided the errors so common with writers for popular effect, that of slurring over the difficulties of the subject through the desire of making it intelligible and attractive to unlearned readers. he never tampers with the truth of science, nor attempts to dodge the solution of a knotty problem behind a cloud of plausible illustrations. the numerous illustrations which accompany every chapter are of unquestionable value in the comprehension of the text, and come next to actual experiment as an aid to the reader. --_n. y. tribune._ light: being part ii. of _science for the young_. by jacob abbott. copiously illustrated. mo, illuminated cloth, black and gilt, $ . treats of the theory of "light," presenting in a popular form the latest conclusions of chemical and optical science on the subject, and elucidating its various points of interest with characteristic clearness and force. its simplicity of language, and the beauty and appropriateness of its pictorial illustrations, make it a most attractive volume for young persons, while the fullness and accuracy of the information with which it overflows commends it to the attention of mature readers. --_n. y. tribune._ like the previous volume, it is in all respects admirable. it is a mystery to us how mr. abbott can so simplify the most abstruse and difficult principles, in which optics especially abounds, as to bring them within the grasp of quite youthful readers; we can only be very grateful to him for the result. this book is up to our latest knowledge of the wonderful force of which it treats, and yet weaves all its astounding facts into pleasing and readable narrative form. there are few grown people, indeed, whose knowledge will not be vastly increased by a perusal of this capital book. --_n. y. evening mail._ perhaps there is no american author to whom our young people are under so great a debt of gratitude as to this writer. the book before us, like all its predecessors from the same pen, is lucid, simple, amusing, and instructive. it is well gotten up and finely illustrated, and should have a place in the library of every family where there are children. --_n. y. star._ it is the second volume of a delightful series started by mr. abbott under the title or "science for the young," in which is detailed interesting conversations and experiments, narratives of travel, and adventures by the young in pursuit of knowledge. the science of optics is here so plainly and so untechnically unfolded that many of its most mysterious phenomena are rendered intelligible at once. --_cleveland plain dealer._ it is complete, and intensely interesting. such a series must be of great usefulness. it should be in every family library. the volume before us is thorough, and succeeds in popularizing the branch of science and natural history treated, and, we may add, there is nothing more varied in its phenomena or important in its effects than light. --_chicago evening journal._ any person, young or old, who wishes to inform himself in a pleasant way about the spectroscope, magic-lantern cameras, and other optical instruments, and about solar, electric, calcium, magnesium, and all other kinds of light, will find this book of mr. abbott both interesting and instructive. --_lutheran observer._ published by harper & brothers, new york. --> either of the above works sent by mail, postage free, to any part of the united states, on receipt of $ . by anthony trollope. anthony trollope's position grows more secure with every new work which comes from his pen. he is one of the most prolific of writers, yet his stories improve with time instead of growing weaker, and each is as finished and as forcible as though it were the sole production of the author. --_n. y. sun._ _ralph the heir._ engravings. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . _sir harry hotspur of humblethwaite._ engravings. vo, paper, cents. _the vicar of bullhampton._ engravings. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . _the belton estate._ vo, paper, cents. [ ] _the bertrams._ mo, cloth, $ . _brown, jones, and robinson._ vo, paper, cents. _can you forgive her?_ engravings. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . [ ] _castle richmond._ mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _the claverings._ engravings. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, cents. [ ] _doctor thorne._ mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _framley parsonage._ engravings. mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _he knew he was right._ engravings. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . [ ] _miss mackenzie._ vo, paper, cents. _north america._ mo, cloth, $ . [ , ] _orley farm._ engravings. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . _phineas finn, the irish member._ illustrated by j. e. millais, r.a. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . [ ] _rachel ray._ vo, paper, cents. _small house at allington._ engravings. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . [ ] _the last chronicle of barset._ engravings. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . [ ] _the three clerks._ mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _the warden [ ] and barchester towers [ , ]._ in one volume. vo, paper, cents. _the west indies and the spanish main._ mo, cloth, $ . _published by harper & brothers, new york._ --> _harper & brothers will send either of the above works by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the united states, on receipt of the price._ by the author of "john halifax." _fair france._ impressions of a traveller. mo, cloth, $ . _a brave lady._ illustrated. vo, paper, $ ; cloth, $ . _the unkind word, and other stories._ mo, cloth, $ . _the woman's kingdom._ a love story. profusely illustrated. vo, paper, $ ; cloth, $ . _the two marriages._ mo, cloth, $ . _a noble life._ mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _christian's mistake._ mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _john halifax, gentleman._ vo, paper, cents; library edition, mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _a life for a life._ vo, paper, cents; library edition, mo, cloth, $ . _a hero, and other tales._ a hero, bread upon the waters, and alice learmont. mo, cloth, $ . _agatha's husband._ vo, paper, cents. _avillion, and other tales._ vo, paper, $ . _olive._ vo, paper, cents; mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _the fairy book._ the best popular fairy stories selected and rendered anew. engravings. mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _the head of the family._ vo, paper, cents. _mistress and maid._ a household story. vo, paper, cents. [ ] _nothing new._ tales. vo, paper, cents. _the ogilvies._ vo, paper, cents; mo, cloth, $ . _our year._ a child's book in prose and verse. illustrated by clarence dobell. mo, cloth, gilt edges, $ . _studies from life._ mo, cloth, gilt edges, $ . _a french country family._ translated from the french of madame de witt (_née_ guizot). illustrated. mo, cloth, $ . _from the north british review._ miss mulock's novels. she attempts to show how the trials, perplexities, joys, sorrows, labors, and successes of life deepen or wither the character according to its inward bent. she cares to teach, _not_ how dishonesty is always plunging men into infinitely more complicated external difficulties than it would in real life, but how any continued insincerity gradually darkens and corrupts the very life-springs of the mind: _not_ how all events conspire to crush an unreal being who is to be the "example" of the story, but how every event, adverse or fortunate, tends to strengthen and expand a high mind, and to break the springs of a selfish or merely weak and self-indulgent nature. she does not limit herself to domestic conversations, and the mere shock of character on character; she includes a large range of events--the influence of worldly successes and failures--the risks of commercial enterprises--the power of social position--in short, the various elements of a wider economy than that generally admitted into a tale. she has a true respect for her work, and never permits herself to "make books," and yet she has evidently very great facility in making them. there are few writers who have exhibited a more marked progress, whether in freedom of touch or in depth of purpose, than the authoress of "the ogilvies" and "john halifax." published by harper & brothers, new york. --> _harper & brothers will send the above works by mail, postage paid, to any part of the united states, on receipt of the price._ tennyson's complete poetical works. [illustration {alfred, lord tennyson}] poetical works of alfred tennyson, poet laureate. with numerous illustrations and three characteristic portraits. forty-fifth thousand. including many poems not hitherto contained in his collected works. new edition, containing "the window; or, the loves of the wrens;" with music by arthur sullivan. vo, paper, cents; cloth, $ . tennyson is, without exception, the most popular of living poets. wherever the english language is spoken, in america as well as in england, his name has become familiar as a household word, and some volume of the many he has published is to be found in almost every library. for several years a complete cheap edition of his poetical works has been an acknowledged desideratum. messrs. harper & brothers, taking advantage of the conclusion of the arthurian poems, have now supplied this want by publishing an attractive household edition of the laureate's poems, in one volume, clearly and handsomely printed, and illustrated with many engravings after designs by gustave doré, rossetti, stanfield, w. h. hunt, and other eminent artists. the volume contains every line the laureate has ever published, including the latest of his productions, which complete the noble cycle of arthurian legends, and raise them from a fragmentary series of exquisite cabinet pictures into a magnificent tragic epic, of which the theme is the gradual dethronement of arthur from his spiritual rule over his order, through the crime of guinevere and lancelot; the spread of their infectious guilt, till it breaks up the oneness of the realm, and the order of the round table is shattered, and the ideal king, deserted by many of his own knights, and deeply wounded in the last great battle with the traitor and the heathen, vanishes into the darkness of the world beyond. the print is clear and excellent; the paper is good; the volume has illustrations from doré, millais, and other great artists. really, the edition is a sort of prodigy in its way. --_independent._ those who want a perfect and complete edition of the works of the great english poet laureate should purchase the harper edition. --_troy budget._ a marvel of cheapness. --_the christian era._ the whole get-up and style of this edition are admirable, and we are sure it will be a welcome addition to every book-case, large or small. but the marvelous thing about it is the price, which is only _one dollar_ for the handsome cloth binding. --_tribune_ (wilmington, del.). a marvelous instance of blended beauty and cheapness. --_charleston courier._ published by harper & brothers, new york. --> _sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the united states, on receipt of the price._ * * * * * * * * * * * * * * authors from "select novels" and "standard authors", listed alphabetically, with full name where possible: _some authors on this list were either not named at all, or identified only as "author of...": see following lists. most were identified only by last name, usually but not always with "miss" or "mrs." if female._ aguilar, grace the mother's recompense allan-olney, mary estelle russell andersen, hans christian ["andersen"] the improvisatore only a fiddler, &c. auerbach, berthold the professor's lady baker, william m. ["baker (wm.)"] inside new timothy bell (currer, acton, ellis) _see under bronte_ bell, martin (mrs.) julia howard benedict, frank lee miss van kortland my daughter elinor betham-edwards, matilda kitty black, william ["w. black"] kilmeny a daughter of heth monarch of mincing-lane in silk attire love or marriage? blackmore, r. d. cradock nowell blagden, isa nora and archibald lee braddon, mary elizabeth ["m. e. braddon", "miss braddon"] aurora floyd birds of prey bound to john company charlotte's inheritance dead-sea fruit eleanor's victory fenton's quest john marchmont's legacy bremer, fredrika ["miss bremer"] brothers and sisters the h---- family the home new sketches of every-day life the midnight sun the neighbors nina parsonage of mora the president's daughters bronte, anne [aka acton bell] tenant of wildfell hall bronte, charlotte [aka currer bell] jane eyre shirley villette the professor bronte, emily [aka ellis bell] wuthering heights brooks, shirley ["brooks"] silver cord sooner or later the gordian knot brunton, mary self-control bulwer-lytton, edward george ["bulwer"] a strange story alice; or, the mysteries the caxtons devereux the disowned ernest maltravers eugene aram godolphin harold the last days of pompeii the last of the barons leila lucretia my novel night and morning paul clifford pelham pilgrims of the rhine rienzi what will he do with it? zanoni bulwer, robert ["owen meredith"] the ring of amasis burbury, e. j. ["mrs. burbury"] florence sackville campbell, harriette ["miss campbell"] self-devotion flygare-carlèn, emilie ["miss carlen"] the brothers' bet ivar; or, the skjuts-boy lover's stratagem clarke, charles ["clarke"] the beauclercs, father and son cleghorn, elizabeth ["mrs. gaskell"] cousin phillis cranford. a dark night's work mary barton moorland cottage my lady ludlow north and south right at last, &c. sylvia's lovers wives and daughters clyde, alton under foot collins, mortimer the vivian romance collins, wilkie antonina armadale man and wife moonstone no name queen of hearts woman in white craik, dinah maria mulock ["miss mulock"] agatha's husband avillion, and other tales a brave lady christian's mistake john halifax the head of the family a life for a life mistress and maid a noble life nothing new the ogilvies olive two marriages the unkind word and other stories the woman's kingdom craik, georgiana m. mildred curtis, g. w. trumps curtis, harriot f. jessie's flirtations de bawr, mme. the maid of honor de beauvoir, roger ["de beauvoir"] safia de forest, john william ["de forest"] miss ravenel's conversion from secession to loyalty de mille, james ["de mille"] cord and creese the cryptogram the dodge club de vigny, alfred ["de vigny"] cinq-mars de witt (madame) a french country family motherless dickens, charles ["dickens"] hard times douglas, ann jane dunn ["mrs. george cupples"] the green hand. a "short yarn" drury, anna h. misrepresentation dumas, alexandre ["dumas"] amaury ascanio chevalier d'harmental the regent's daughter dupuy, eliza a. ["miss dupuy"] country neighborhood eastlake, lady elizabeth rigby livonian tales edgeworth, maria ["edgeworth"] novels frank harry and lucy moral tales popular tales rosamond edwards, amelia b. barbara's history debenham's vow half a million of money hand and glove the ladder of life miss carew my brother's wife edwards, annie a point of honor eiloart, elizabeth (mrs. c. j.) ["mrs. eiloart"] the curate's discipline from thistles--grapes? eliot, george adam bede felix holt, the radical the mill on the floss romola scenes of clerical life silas marner ellis, sarah ["mrs. ellis"] look to the end ferrier, susan edmonstone ["miss s. ferrier"] marriage francillon, robert edward ["r. e. francillon"] earl's dene fullom, stephen watson ["fullom"] the daughter of night gardiner, harriet anne frances ["countess d'orsay"] clouded happiness gaskell (mrs.) _see under cleghorn_ gibbon, charles for lack of gold goddard, julia baffled gore, catherine grace frances (moody) ["mrs. gore"] the banker's wife the birthright peers and parvenus the queen of denmark the royal favorite self grattan, thomas colley ["t. c. grattan"] a chance medley greenwood, frederick margaret denzil's history greenwood, james the true history of a little ragamuffin grey, elizabeth caroline ["mrs. grey"] the bosom friend the gambler's wife the young husband hall, anna maria (mrs. s. c.) ["mrs. hall"] the whiteboy midsummer eve woman's trials hamilton, mrs. charles granville ["g. c. h."] constance lyndsay hamley, edward bruce lady lee's widowhood hannay, james ["hannay"] singleton fontenoy, r. n. hannay, david ["d. hannay"] ned allen hardy, mary (mcdowell) duffus ["lady hardy"] daisy nichol which is the heroine? harwood, isabella [aka ross neil] the heir expectant kathleen raymond's heroine henningsen, charles frederick the white slave hofland (mrs.) the czarina daniel dennison, &c. the unloved one housekeeper, m. r. my husband's crime howitt, mary the author's daughter howitt, william jack of the mill hubback (mrs.) the wife's sister hughes, arthur tom brown's school days tom brown at oxford hugo, victor the toilers of the sea hunt, leigh the foster-brother inchbald, elizabeth ["mrs. inchbald"] a simple story jackson, henry a dangerous guest a first friendship gilbert rugge james, george payne rainsford ["james"] agincourt agnes sorel aims and obstacles the ancient régime arabella stuart arrah neil attila beauchamp the castle of ehrenstein charles tyrrel the club book the commissioner the convict corse de lion darnley de l'orme the desultory man the false heir the fate forest days the forgery the gentleman of the old school the gipsy gowrie heidelberg henry masterdon henry smeaton henry of guise the huguenot the jacquerie john marston hall the king's highway the last of the fairies leonora d'orco a life of vicissitudes the man at arms margaret graham mary of burgundy morley ernstein the old dominion the old oak chest one in a thousand pequinillo philip augustus richelieu the robber rose d'albret russell sir theodore broughton the smuggler the stepmother the string of pearls thirty years since ticonderoga a whim and its consequences the woodman jeaffreson, john cordy ["jeaffreson"] isabel live it down not dead yet olive blake's good work jerrold, douglas william the chronicles of clovernook jewsbury, geraldine endsor ["miss jewsbury"] constance herbert zoe johnstone, charles frederick recollections of eton jolly, emily caste kingsley, charles ["kingsley"] alton locke yeast: a problem kingsley, henry hetty stretton knowles, james sheridan ["knowles"] fortescue knox, isa craig in duty bound lajetchnikoff the heretic lamartine, alphonse de ["lamartine"] genevieve lawrence, george ["geo. lawrence"] anteros brakespeare breaking a butterfly guy livingstone maurice dering sans merci sword and gown le fanu, joseph sheridan ["j. s. le fanu"] all in the dark guy deverell a lost name the tenants of malory uncle silas lee, holme [aka harriet parr] annis warleigh's fortunes kathie brande mr. wynyard's ward sylvan holt's daughter lever, charles james ["lever"] barrington the bramleighs of bishop's folly the daltons a day's ride the dodd family abroad fortunes of glencore gerald fitzgerald luttrell of arran the martins of cro' martin maurice tiernay one of them roland cashel sir brooke fossbrooke sir jasper carew that boy of norcott's tony butler lewes, george henry ["g. h. lewes"] three sisters and three fortunes liès, eugène the female minister linton, elizabeth lynn ["mrs. e. lynn linton"] sowing the wind lizzie lorton of greyrigg macdonald, george alec forbes of howglen annals of a quiet neighborhood guild court marlitt, eugenie ["e. marlitt"] countess gisela marryat, florence her lord and master marsh-caldwell, anne ["mrs. marsh"] adelaide lindsay aubrey castle avon emilia wyndham evelyn marston father darcy the heiress of haughton lettice arnold mordaunt hall norman's bridge ravenscliffe the rose of ashurst time, the avenger the triumphs of time the wilmingtons masterman, g. j. belial mccarthy, justin h. my enemy's daughter the waterdale neighbors meinhold sidonia the sorceress melville, herman ["melville"] mardi moby-dick omoo pierre redburn typee whitejacket milman, edward augustus ["e. h. milman", "captain milman"] arthur conway the wayside cross monkland, mrs. the nabob at home more, hannah complete works mühlbach, luise ["l. mühlbach"] bernthal mulock _see under craik_ murray, charles augustus ["c. a. murray"] the prairie bird murray, hamilton falkenburg neale (captain) the lost ship norton, hon. caroline stuart of dunleath notley, frances eliza millet [aka francis derrick] beneath the wheels oliphant, margaret oliphant wilson ["mrs. oliphant"] agnes the athelings brownlows chronicles of carlingford john: a love story katie stewart laird of norlaw last of the mortimers lucy crofton madonna mary the minister's wife miss marjoribanks quiet heart perpetual curate a son of the soil paalzow, henriette wach von the citizen of prague payn, james a beggar on horseback bred in the bone carlyon's year found dead gwendoline's harvest one of the family won--not wooed [_title also published as_ not wooed but won] pickering, ellen ["miss pickering"] the grandfather the grumbler ponsonby, lady emily the discipline of life mary lyndsay pride and irresolution prittie, kate charlotte ["mrs. maberly"] the lady and the priest leontine reade, charles the cloister and the hearth foul play griffith gaunt hard cash it is never too late to mend love me little, love me long peg woffington and other tales put yourself in his place terrible temptation white lies riddell, charlotte eliza lawson (mrs. joseph h.) ["mrs. j. h. riddell", aka f. g. trafford] a life's assize maxwell drewitt phemie keller the race for wealth robinson, emma the gold worshipers the maid of orleans robinson, frederick william ["f. w. robinson"] carry's confession christie's faith for her sake mattie: a stray no man's friend poor humanity stern necessity true to herself rowcroft, charles the bush-ranger sala, george augustus quite alone saunders, john abel drake's wife martin pole bound to the wheel hirell savage, m. w. my uncle the curate sedgwick, catharine maria ["miss sedgwick"] hope leslie live and let live married or single? means and ends poor rich man and rich poor man stories for young persons tales of glauber spa wilton harvey and other tales sedgwick, susan anne livingston ridley ["mrs. sedgwick"] walter thornley sewell, elizabeth missing ["miss sewell"] amy herbert sheppard, elizabeth sara auchester, charles. a memorial sherwood, mary martha ["mrs. sherwood"] works henry milner lady of the manor roxobel sinclair, catherine ["miss sinclair"] sir edward graham skene, felicia the tutor's ward smith, horace ["h. smith"] adam brown, the merchant arthur arundel love and mesmerism smythies, harriet m. g. (mrs. gordon) the breach of promise the jilt spindler the jew steele, anna caroline (wood) ["mrs. a. c. steele"] so runs the world away stephenson, eliza tabor nature's nobleman meta's faith jeanie's quiet life rachel's secret st. olave's sue, eugène ["sue"] arthur the commander of malta de rohan temme, jodocus donatus hubertus ["temme"] anna hammer anne isabel thackeray (ritchie) ["miss thackeray"] the village on the cliff thackeray, william makepeace ["thackeray"] the adventures of philip denis duval the great hoggarty diamond henry esmond lovel the widower the newcomes pendennis vanity fair the virginians thomas, annie [later cudlip] false colors called to account denis donne the dower house on guard only herself played out playing for high stakes theo leigh walter goring thomson, a. t. ["mrs. thomson"] lady of milan tieck, ludwig ["tieck"] the elves, &c. trollope, frances milton ["mrs. trollope"] petticoat government trollope, anthony barchester towers the belton estate bertrams can you forgive her? castle richmond the claverings doctor thorne framley parsonage he knew he was right last chronicle of barset miss mackenzie phineas finn orley farm rachel ray ralph the heir sir harry hotspur of humblethwaite small house at allington the struggles of brown, jones, and robinson three clerks vicar of bullhampton the warden trollope, frances eleanor anne furness mabel's progress veronica trollope, t. adolphus durnton abbey lindisfarn chase a siren warburton, eliot ["warburton"] darien reginald hastings ward, r. plummer ["ward"] chatsworth white, babington circe wigram, w. knox ["a barrister"] five hundred pounds reward wiley, calvin henderson alamance wilkinson, janet w. ["miss wilkinson"] hands not hearts williams, robert folkestone ["f. williams"] the luttrells wills, william gorman ["wills"] notice to quit the wife's evidence wright, caleb e. wyoming, a tale wynne, catherine simpson margaret's engagement yates, edmund black sheep kissing the rod land at last wrecked in port zschokke, heinrich ["zschokke"] veronica "author of...": "aunt margaret's trouble": frances eleanor trollope "carlyon's year": james payn "cecil": mrs. gore "doctor jacob": matilda betham-edwards "a first friendship": henry jackson "gilbert rugge": henry jackson "lost sir massingberd": james payn "mabel's progress": frances eleanor trollope "mattie: a stray": f. w. robinson "olive varcoe": frances eliza millet notley (francis derrick) "paul massie": justin h. mccarthy "rachel's secret": eliza tabor (stephenson) "raymond's heroine": isabella harwood (ross neil) "st. olave's": eliza tabor (stephenson) books identified only by title: _some titles have been used for many different books. in case of ambiguity, the one known to have been published by harper & brothers in or before was assumed._ alamance [calvin henderson wiley] belial [g. j. masterman] bound to john company [m. e. braddon] the breach of promise [mrs. gordon smythies] caste [emily jolly] charles auchester. a memorial [by elizabeth sara sheppard] the chronicles of clovernook [douglas william jerrold] the citizen of prague [henriette wach von paalzow] the discipline of life [lady emily ponsonby] estelle russell [mary allan-olney] falkenburg [hamilton murray] the female minister [eugène liès] a first friendship [henry jackson] the gold worshipers [emma robinson] the green hand. a "short yarn" [mrs. george cupples] in duty bound [isa craig knox] jessie's flirtations [harriot f. curtis] the jilt [harriet m. g. (mrs. gordon) smythies] lady lee's widowhood [edward bruce hamley] livonian tales [lady elizabeth rigby eastlake] the maid of honor [de bawr, mme.] [_full title_: the maid of honor; or, the massacre of st. bartholomew. a tale of the sixteenth century] the maid of orleans [emma robinson] margaret denzil's history [frederick greenwood] margaret's engagement [catherine simpson wynne] miss van kortland [frank lee benedict] my daughter elinor [frank lee benedict] my husband's crime [m. r. housekeeper] my uncle the curate [m. w. savage] the nabob at home [mrs. monkland] nora and archibald lee [isa blagden] a point of honor [annie edwards] pride and irresolution [lady emily ponsonby] the professor's lady [berthold auerbach] rachel's secret [eliza tabor (stephenson)] raymond's heroine [isabella harwood (aka ross neil)] recollections of eton. [charles frederick johnstone] the regent's daughter [dumas] st. olave's [eliza tabor stephenson] tales from the german [_full title_: tales from the german, comprising specimens from the most celebrated authors] tom brown (both titles) [arthur hughes] the true history of a little ragamuffin [james greenwood] the tutor's ward [felicia skene] which is the heroine? [lady mary duffus hardy] the white slave [charles frederick henningsen] [_full title_: the white slave; or, the russian peasant girl] wyoming [caleb e. wright] [_full title_: wyoming, a tale] * * * * * * * * * * * * * * errors and inconsistencies noted by transcriber: . the wayside cross. by e. h. milman _apparent error for e. a. (edward augustus)_ . brownlows. by mrs. oliphant ... _price given as printed (thirty-eight cents)_ de mille's ... the cryptogram ... vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . _semicolon after "cloth" missing_ charles reade's ... put yourself in his place ... cents; _text has colon for semicolon_ james's ... henry masterdon _error for henry masterton_ oliphant's ... chronicles of carlingford _title listed separately, but apparently the same mrs. oliphant_ the pilot and the bushman by sylvia jacobs illustrated by david stone [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from galaxy science fiction august . extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] technological upheavals caused by inventions of our own are bad enough, but this was the ultimate depression, caused by the ultimate alien invention--which no earthman ever saw! the ambassador from outer space sprang to his feet, taking jerry's extended hand in a firm, warm grasp. jerry had been prepared for almost anything--a scholarly brontosaurus, perhaps, or an educated squid or giant caterpillar with telepathic powers. but the ambassador didn't even have antennae, gills, or green hair. he was a completely normal and even handsome human being. "scotch? cigar?" the ambassador offered cordially. "how can i help you, mr. jergins?" studying him, jerry decided there _was_ something peculiar about this extraterrestrial, after all. he was too perfect. his shave was too close, his skin so unblemished as to suggest wax-works. every strand of his distinguished iron-gray hair was impeccably placed. the negligent and just-right drape of his clothes covered a body shaped like a sixth century b.c. piece of greek sculpture. no mere human could have looked so unruffled, so utterly groomed, at three o'clock in the afternoon, in a busy office. a race, jerry wondered, capable of taking any shape at will, in mimicry of the indigenous race of any planet? "you _can_ help me, but i'm not sure you _will_," jerry said. "the rumor is that you won't do anything to ease this buyers' strike you started on earth." the ambassador smiled. "you're a man who's not used to taking no for an answer, i gather. what's your proposition?" "i'd like to contact some of the firms on the federated planets, show them how i could promote their merchandise on earth. earth is already clamoring for their goods. to establish a medium of exchange, we'd have to run simultaneous campaigns, promoting earth merchandise on other planets." "that would be difficult, even for a man of your promotional ability," the ambassador said winningly. "you see, earth is the only planet we've yet discovered where advertising--or promotion, to use the broader term--exists as a social and economic force." "how in hell can anybody do business without it?" jerry demanded. "we don't do business in the sense you mean. don't mistake me," the ambassador added hastily, "we don't have precisely a communal economy, either. our very well defined sense of ethics in regard to material goods is something i find impossible to describe in any earth language. it's quite simple, so simple that you have to grow up with it to understand it. our whole attitude toward material goods is conditioned by the matter repositor." "_that_ gadget!" jerry said bitterly. "it was when you first mentioned it before the u.n. assembly that all this trouble on earth started. everybody and his brother hopes that tomorrow he can buy a matter repositor, and never have to buy anything again. i came here mostly to ask you whether it's really true, that if you have one of those dinguses, you can bring anything you want into your living room." "you _can_. in practice, of course, repositing just anything that took your fancy would produce economic anarchy." "let's put it this way," jerry persisted. "home appliances were my biggest accounts. now, when we try to sell a refrigerator, the prospect says she's saving her cash till matter repositors get on the earth market. she plans to reposit a refrigerator--not from her neighbor's kitchen, because that would be stealing--but from the factory. if the factory goes bust, people figure the government will have to subsidize building appliances. now, could she really reposit a refrigerator?" "she could. but she wouldn't want to." "why not?" jerry asked, puzzled. "if she conceived an illogical and useless desire for food refrigeration, she would simply reposit a block of cold air from, say, the north pole." "oh, fine!" jerry said sarcastically. "that would cause more unemployment in the refrigerator industry than repositing them without paying for them! but what do you mean about food refrigeration being illogical and useless?" "well, in a storage warehouse, there might be some reason for food preservation. but you don't need cold or canning. why not just reposit the bacteria that cause the food to deteriorate? there's no need to store food in a home equipped with a matter repositor. you simply reposit one meal at a time. fruits and vegetables direct from tree or field. meat from a slaughterhouse, since it isn't humane to remove a pound of steak from a live steer. but even this is needless." "why?" jerry baffledly wanted to know. "to free the maximum amount of the effort of thinking beings for non-material activities, each consumer can reposit the chemical elements of the food, synthesize his meal on the table. he can even reposit these elements directly into his stomach, or, to by-pass the effort of digestion, into his bloodstream as glycogen and amino acids." "so refrigerators would be as dead an item as kerosene lamps in a city wired for electricity," jerry agreed unhappily. "suppose mrs. housewife, not needing a refrigerator, reposits a washing machine. the point i'm driving at--is there any practical way to compensate the factory, give it an incentive to produce more washing machines, without dragging in government control?" "why should the factory produce more washing machines? who would want one? the housewife would simply reposit the dirt from her clothes into her flowerbed, without using water and soap. or, more likely, reposit new clothes with different colors, fabrics, and styles. the matter repositor would eliminate textile mills and clothing factories. earth's oceans have vast enough quantities of seaweed to eliminate the growing of cotton, wool, or flax. or, again, you could reposit the chemical elements, either from the soil or from seawater." jerry pondered the extensive implications of these revelations. finally he said, "what it boils down to is this. all earth's bustling material activity, all the logging and construction, the mining and manufacturing, the planting and fishing, the printing and postal service, the great transportation and shipping effort, the cleaning and painting, the sewage disposal, even the bathing and self-adornment, consist, when you analyze them, of one process only--_putting something from where you don't want it to where you do_. there's not one single, solitary earth invention or service left to advertise!" "nothing," the ambassador agreed. "which is exactly why advertising has not developed on the federated planets. you're fortunate that earth doesn't have matter repositors. you'd be out of a job if it did." "oh, no!" jerry said. "i could still advertise the gadget to end all gadgets--the matter repositor itself. i know other people have asked you this before, but could an earth company get a franchise to import those machines here, or the license rights to manufacture them?" "no," the ambassador said, briefly and definitely. "mr. ambassador," jerry protested, "you've gone to a lot of trouble to explain things you must already be tired of explaining to earthmen, just so i personally could be sure they weren't merely rumors or misinterpretations. now that i get down to the real point, you suddenly become blunt and unqualified. why?" "because there's a very serious question of ethics involved, wherever a more advanced civilization comes in contact with a relatively primitive one. for instance, when the white men came to america, the aborigines were introduced to gunpowder and firewater." "so you people are keeping matter repositors away from us, like a mama keeping candy away from a baby who's hollering for it, because it's not good for him! you'd pass up a chance to name your own price--" "the very way you phrase that remark indicates the danger. you regard personal gain as the strongest of motives, which means that matter repositors would be used for that, even by such unusually intelligent members of your race as yourself." "don't softsoap me," jerry said angrily. "not after you just got through saying that we earthlings are nothing but naked savages, compared to the high and mighty super-beings on other planets!" "i apologize for my phraseology," the ambassador said. "with my limited command of your language--" "your limited command, nuts! i suppose you supermen enjoy seeing us naked savages squirm. why talk sanctimoniously about the damage you might do, when you know damn well the damage has already been done? just the news that something as advanced as the matter repositor exists has sent unemployment to a new high, and the stock market to a new low. and you theorize about ethics, while denying us the only cure!" jerry found himself fighting a nearly irresistible impulse to smash his fist into that too-perfect profile--which, he realized glumly, would only prove the ambassador's point about savages. "here, here," the ambassador said benevolently, "let's have another drink. then we'll see whether i can make it clear to you why the actual importation of matter repositors would cause much more trouble on earth than the announcement of their existence, bad as the effect of that has been. to begin with, i admit i made a very serious error in mentioning the device at all before the u.n. assembly. i intended merely to explain how i came here without a spaceship. after that, i was flooded with questions; i could no more avoid answering them than i could courteously avoid answering the questions you've been asking today." "you mean you super-beings actually admit you're human enough to make mistakes?" jerry asked, somewhat mollified. "of course we make mistakes. we try not to make the same one twice. you see, we once made the mistake of importing matter repositors to a planet whose natural resources and social concepts weren't adequate for the device. that was a long time ago, and they haven't recovered from the effects yet. suppose a consignment of ten thousand matter repositors arrived on earth tomorrow. under your economic system, who would get them?" "the ten thousand people or corporations who had the most money to pay for them, i guess. unless government agencies grabbed 'em." "can you guarantee that of the ten thousand people on earth who have the most money, not one is unscrupulous?" "gosh, no!" jerry said. "i don't think there's any doubt that to stay in business very long, a man or a company has to have a certain amount of business ethics. nobody can gyp the public indefinitely. but a bank robber might have a lot of cash, or a confidence man, or a cluck with a big inheritance." "so, to be generous, let's assume that , of your wealthiest persons are so ethical that they would never make any profit at the expense of the general welfare. that leaves us one crook. what would he reposit first?" "hmm.... maybe the gold at fort knox." "and what effect would that have on earth's business?" "i'm not quite sure," jerry admitted. "i'm no shark on monetary theory, just the kind of large-scale salesman who makes mass production possible. but it certainly wouldn't do the world situation any good." "suppose, next, our crook holds the president of the united states for ransom. since he doesn't need money, the ransom price might be laws which would grant him impunity for his crimes. if not, he could have an accomplice reposit him out of jail, or even out of the electric chair, before the switch was pulled." "that's enough! i get the idea!" jerry exclaimed. "wait--there's a more important point. suppose a government you consider the wrong government got hold of some of the machines. first, of course, they'd reposit the world stockpile of atomic bombs. then they'd reposit disease bacteria into the bloodstreams of u.n. troops, officials, and civilian workers, and reposit all the ammunition out of u.n. guns. so long as there is one spark of nationalism left on earth, so long as any country has an economic and political system they consider better than some other system, matter repositors would mean planetary self-destruction. now do you see why i was blunt and unqualified?" "i do," jerry said solemnly, "and i was a fool to fly off the handle when you called us savages. we are savages, i can see that now. and your people must be pretty damned godlike to be trusted with such an invention!" "not at all. to a micronesian bushman, the pilot who can be trusted with the power and speed of a b- seems a veritable god. but the pilot is only an ordinary joe, very likely no more intelligent than the bushman--he just had a different background. fighting each other for necessities and luxuries, the process that you people call business competition, has so long been needless to our people that they would no more think of competitive gain than you would do an indian harvest dance before you signed a contract. they aren't necessarily more intelligent or more virtuous than your people--they just have a different background." "you seem to have devoted a lot of study to the larceny in the earthman's soul," jerry put in. "what if we stole the secret from you, whether you think it wise to give it to us or not? suppose somebody swiped the blueprints, or copied a repositor you brought with you for your own use?" the ambassador smiled. "you might _try_ to steal it. that's why i didn't bring a repositor with me, to save you people the trouble of a futile try." "why futile?" "well, the matter repositor is a simple device. any child on the federated planets who had an education, say, equivalent to your technical high school education, could build a working model, even without another repositor to assist him. but earth's best technicians couldn't build one, even with either blueprints or a model to copy." "they couldn't, eh?" jerry challenged, bristling again. "they managed to split atoms, transmute elements, do a few little tricks like that." "i see i've been tactless again," the ambassador said regretfully. "just now, you readily conceded that earthmen are savages morally, but when i seem to cast aspersions on your mechanical ability, it offends your racial vanity. all right, let's go back to the b- pilot and the intelligent bushman. the internal combustion engine that powers the b- is a simple device in fundamental principle, isn't it?" "sure," jerry said. "any high school boy who has taken a course in auto mechanics, who has the requisite machine tools, metals, casting equipment, and fuel, could build a working model of an internal combustion engine, couldn't he, even without ready-made parts?" "if he wasn't all thumbs, he could." "all right. now suppose the b- is grounded in the jungle. the bushman is examining the engine. he's just as intelligent as the pilot, remember, but his environment hasn't produced an oil well, let alone a refinery. he has never seen a lathe or a micrometer. he has no mine, no smelter. he can't copy that b- engine by whittling wood or chipping stone, even if he's a born mechanical genius, and he can't run it on seawater. so he says the plane flies by magic. put him in the pilot seat, and you'll admit it's practically inevitable that he'll crash." "why do you take so much trouble to explain things?" jerry asked wryly. "i should have my head examined for not understanding it in the first place." "let's say i'm feebly trying to make amends for what my unfortunate slip of the tongue has done to your business." "you've brought me around to your way of thinking, mr. ambassador," jerry said, recovering enough to carry the ball. "but it would be impossible to sell the public on the idea that they shouldn't have repositors because they're too hot to handle. statistics on auto accidents never convinced anybody that he didn't want a nice, shiny, new car. nobody thinks he personally will get killed in traffic--he's too smart. you can't convince a youngster he doesn't want candy before dinner; he thinks he knows better than his parents. but you can hide the candy, while putting an appetizing meal on the table." "yes, except that i regrettably didn't hide the fact that the matter repositor exists." "you sure didn't. and it puts you on a spot, doesn't it? i don't imagine it will be much fun for you to report to your government that one ill-considered remark, made shortly after your arrival, upset earth's economy." for the first time, the ambassador's suavity was ruffled. sweat stood out on his noble forehead. "i've been hoping the bad-effects would die down before i have to report," he confessed. "they won't die down by themselves. you know damned well they're getting worse and worse, as word-of-mouth advertising about the matter repositor spreads." jerry leaned closer. "but you and i can get rid of those bad effects." "how?" "well, i'll tell you. when i came to see you, i was pretty sure you'd turn me down cold on importing matter repositors. but i had an ace up my sleeve. i hoped you would admit that the reason you've been stalling on selling earth any repositors is that you don't really have a practical one. i thought maybe rumors of the repositor's powers had been vastly exaggerated. if you admitted that, i intended to publicize it to the limit. a campaign to convince earthmen that you'd been kidding them would work, because it plays on john q. public's conviction that he's pretty smart, too smart to believe all this gab about a gadget he's never seen. with your denial to back me up, i could put it across. it would be a lifesaving shot in the arm for earth business." "you mean," the ambassador said reflectively, "that if i call myself a liar--if i actually become a liar in so doing--i can patch up the damage i've done? that puts me in a difficult ethical position." "not as difficult as the one you're in now. if it will make it easier for you, i can word your denial in a face-saving way, and have it ready for your signature tuesday. you have a remarkable command of colloquial english, but even a diplomat using his native tongue can't juggle the connotations and inferences like an advertising man." "it's very kind of you to offer your professional skill in my behalf. i think i should pay you a fee for the copy." "skip it," jerry said generously, fingering the nickel and two pennies in his pocket. "a small token of my appreciation for the patience you've shown. what time tuesday?" "say two o'clock?" "fine. but before i spend my time on this, you're not going to make the same deal with somebody else, are you?" "deal? did i make a deal?" "what i mean, nobody else has approached you with the idea that earth business would get back to normal if you would deny that a practical matter repositor exists? you'd say i have exclusive rights to the idea?" "nobody has," the ambassador said, "and i agree to give you exclusive rights." "good! with your signed denial, i can raise the loot. i think the n.a.m. will go for it. the campaign will have to be well-financed, you see; the amount of space the news columns will give to your denial may be as much as they gave to your original statement, but that alone won't do the job. it's much harder to kill a notion that has penetrated the public mind than it is to implant one." * * * * * the ambassador indulged in a chuckle. "i'm beginning to see daylight. my signed denial in your hands becomes a salable piece of merchandise, worth far more than i would pay you for a few lines of copy. well, more power to you! would it be out of place for me to contribute some of the funds for publicizing this denial?" "how much?" jerry asked practically. "well," the ambassador explained, "i've had nothing reposited that i could avoid. but since your planet has a monetary exchange, i had to pay for my office help, lodging, and so on. synthesizing coinage would have been counterfeiting, which is against your laws, so i merely had a moderate amount of uncoined gold reposited, and i sell it on the regular earth market as i need funds. gold has no particular value on the federated planets, of course. i could get whatever you need, so long as it isn't enough to disrupt the economy any more than--well, than i have already. let's limit ourselves to an amount that could be accounted for by an unusually good year in mining." "sold!" jerry said happily. "i think i can struggle along on a million a month retainer. plus the usual fifteen per cent on advertising space and printing, of course; i'll have an estimate on that for you tuesday. since you can finance the whole campaign yourself, we'll leave the n.a.m. out of it. that way i can spare you the humiliation of signing an outright denial. all you have to do from now on is to keep mum. don't even admit that you're the angel financing this campaign; that would make it look phony. i'll assign you three personal public-relations men, on twenty-four-hour shift. all your public remarks are to screen through them." "but how can i conceal my identity when i'm sponsoring the campaign?" the ambassador objected. "that's easy. the ostensible sponsor will be a dummy organization called--um--the consumers fact finding board. nobody but me needs to know who signs the checks." "how long will this campaign continue?" "i figure it'll take about six months to sell the public this particular bill of goods. once we get business revived, the best thing is never to mention the words matter repositor again, not even to deny its existence. the ultimate goal is to make people forget they ever heard of such a gadget. the more convincing i make it, the quicker i'll work myself out of a job." "i should think you'd make it last as long as possible; that's why i asked you for a time-limit. do you _want_ to work yourself out of a job?" "you bet i do! then i can start selling a bigger item, launch a longer-term promotion, one that will last till earth gets civilized, till i don't have anything more to sell. from what you say, that will take a lot longer than i'll live." "it may be none of my business, but what is this big item you propose to sell next?" the ambassador asked, curiously. "earth," jerry said. the ambassador looked confused. "i'm afraid i don't understand." "didn't you just get through telling me, in effect, that any of your people who came to earth could have all the money they wanted to spend? well, i'm going to run advertising copy on the federated planets, and get them to come here and spend it." "but i also told you that advertising is unknown on the federated planets!" the ambassador protested. "all the better. your people, then, will have less sales resistance than an audience of earth kindergarten kids, who have had spot commercials dinned into their ears since birth. the only problem is space and time." "the matter repositor has effectively solved the problems of space and time." "no, i mean space and time as an advertising man uses those terms. newspaper and magazine space, radio and tv time. do you have any newspapers out there?" "we have very little you would classify as news. no wars, no stock market, no crime, no epidemics, no political mudslinging, few accidents. but we do have information bulletins, of course." "fine! besides that million a month retainer, i want an exclusive contract to run advertising copy in the information bulletins on the federated planets." "this is completely unprecedented!" "you want to get out of this mess you're in, don't you? i'm the boy who can get you out, and that's my price." "you drive a hard bargain, mr. jergins. very well, i'll arrange it. but i'm getting you the contract only because i'm certain your excursion idea won't work. oh, i know earth men want to visit the federated planets; i've had plenty of requests. i've had to explain repeatedly that we must hold to our announced policy of no ambassador from earth, and no exchange students, until earth has completed a few more steps in the development of her civilization. but surely none of our people will come to earth, aside from a few students of comparative civilizations. our general public can view samples of your national costumes, automobiles, and so on, in the museums. i can't see why they should want to come here, while earth is still in a primitive and dangerous stage." "you can't, eh? well, you might be surprised, mr. ambassador, you might be surprised. for the time being, just picture yourself as the pilot of that b- , grounded on a primitive little island in space. you've met a poor, ignorant bushman. he couldn't reproduce your plane to save his neck. he can't manufacture a single gadget you'd want to buy. nevertheless, you're about to see a demonstration of a few tricks of survival that your super-civilized race has forgotten--or, rather, never knew. i think you'll cook up into a right tasty dish." * * * * * four days later, the better business bureau of oskaloosa, iowa, nabbed a questionable character who had accepted deposits from local businessmen, in return for elaborately printed but worthless contracts to deliver matter repositors. the warning flash crossed similar warnings from new orleans, reno, milwaukee, and the borough of queens, with a particularly hysterical note injected by los angeles, where the populace had proved most susceptible to the bogus agents. the news of a national ring of confidence artists, capitalizing on people's desire for matter repositors, ran in all papers, of course. the editors as yet hadn't the faintest idea that they were printing carefully engineered publicity. before he even got his space contracts lined up, jerry had accomplished quite a feat. he had fixed things so that, if the ambassador from outer space himself had changed his mind, and imported a cargo of genuine matter repositors, he would have had some trouble convincing people he wasn't a crook. in a record two weeks, the campaign proper was ready to roll. it was long on white space, and the copy was so short that, after glancing at it a few times, you found that you had involuntarily committed it to memory. in the center of blank pages in all major metropolitan newspapers appeared a small want-ad, stating that the consumers fact finding board had deposited with a new york bank the sum of one million dollars in cash, _after taxes_, which would be paid to any person, terrestrial or extraterrestrial, who could produce a matter repositor capable of repositing an object weighing two pounds a distance of ten feet. the offer was repeated daily for a month, and from the second day forward, there was a large, red overprint, looking like a crayon scrawl, which said, "no takers to date who can deliver the goods!" the idea was pounded into the public mind by carcards, billboards, direct mail, and annoying telephone solicitors, who got subscribers out of bathtub and bed to ask them whether they had a matter repositor around the house they wanted to sell for a million dollars. skywriters by day and illuminated blimps by night made sure the literate could not escape the message. radio and tv singing and cartoon commercials took care of the illiterate. no conclusions were drawn in the copy. each "prospect" was left with the comfortable feeling that his own superior intellect and powers of deduction had supplied the answer. no matter repositor turned up for sale, so everyone was sure there was no such thing. the whole campaign, like other advertising campaigns before it, depended on what people failed to consider. they neglected to realize that a million dollars would be a joke to the owner of a matter repositor, who could reposit all the wealth on earth, including the million in the new york bank, but would have no use for money, since he could reposit usable goods. the magic phrase "a million dollars" was a worldwide symbol for all desirable material things. it would have been almost heresy to reflect that even that much cash had no actual value. * * * * * as jerry promised, the ambassador didn't have to issue an official denial. his chief public relations man quite truthfully admitted to reporters that the ambassador had no matter repositor in his possession, a dispatch carried by all wire services, and snickered at by clever columnists. in basements and garages, persons of good, bad, and indifferent mechanical ability strove to earn the million. the u.s. patent office was inundated with models and drawings of unworkable devices. one of the duke university subjects tried to patent his ability to influence the fall of dice mentally. during the next session of the congress, jerry's crack lobbyists raised a great howl about the shameful congestion in the patent office, not mentioning, of course, that they were employed by the man who had created the congestion, by offering a million dollars for a device he knew no earthman could build. another dummy organization, dubbed the inventors protective league, sponsored a bill to amend the act relating to perpetual motion machines. it passed, with an emergency clause, and, thereafter, devices purporting to reposit matter were not entitled to letters of patent. this just about clinched the deal, for the vast majority of people, who had never watched laws enacted, assumed that if something was in the law, there must be a good reason for it, unless, of course, it was anything like prohibition. a name band revived "the thing," leaving the drumbeats out of the vocal refrain, and substituting, "get out of here with that matter repositor, before i call a cop!" within six months, radio and tv comedians had worn out the joke. even goofy, my friend irma, mrs. ace, and gracie allen were too sophisticated to believe in matter repositors. gags about them dropped to the same low level as those about brooklyn and joke-stealing comics. although his appearance in public was liable to start boos and catcalls, the ambassador from outer space was duly grateful. he was spared the painful necessity of reporting his disastrous slip of the tongue to his government, for earth economy was again on the upward spiral. everybody was spending the money he'd been saving up for a matter repositor. the ambassador cheerfully paid the million-a-month retainer and the whopping space bills, but jerry's greatest gain in the transaction was his agreement allowing him to run advertising in the federated planets information bulletins. the space didn't cost him a nickel. yet he knew how to sell his exclusive rights to it for more money than any one earth company had in its promotional budget. by the time the campaign debunking the matter repositor was ready to die a natural death, jerry had started an organization of earth businessmen, spearheaded by the restaurant and hotel associations, and the transportation interests, to promote earth as a primitive planet. the primitive aspects of earth, jerry predicted, would exert a powerful appeal on the citizens of the federated planets, who must be pretty bored with civilization, and badly in need of a vacation from too much perfection. this organization was not composed of dummies, by any means, but the businessmen joined up with a vague idea that their hostelries were to be way-stations, that they were going to promote sightseeing tours to places they themselves would call primitive, that the human exhibits would consist of blanketed navajos, chinese coolies, hula girls, voodoo dancers, and eskimos. jerry filled the biggest convention hall in chicago, and, at the climax of the proceedings, dramatically drew back a velvet curtain, unveiling a huge painting of the symbol of the campaign--a masked bandit, wearing a slouch hat, clutching in a greedy hand a fat bag marked with a dollar sign. below was blazoned the tasteful slogan, "let the people of earth gyp you!" a chorus of outrage echoed in the rafters. it hadn't occurred to the members that primitive exhibit a would be themselves; to wit, the genus earth businessman; sub-species, go-getter. jerry emerged from the resulting argument somewhat battered, but with what any experienced advertising man would recognize as a victory. his copy was to run in five per cent of the space, keyed. now all he had to do was prove in dollars and cents that he knew more about mass sales psychology than his clients, which was, of course, a cinch. in spite of translation into a more civilized language, jerry's five per cent of the space out-pulled the tamer ninety-five per cent by better than ten to one. thereafter, his clients swallowed their pride, voted him a free hand, and contented themselves with raking in the shekels from a steady stream of handsome and rich extraterrestrial tourists. * * * * * after jerry's tourist promotion had been running two years, the u.s. post office broke down and printed an issue of three-cent stamps commemorating the influx, showing the goddess terra with welcoming arms open to the starred heavens. jerry jergins, the second advertising man in history to achieve the distinction of having uncle sam plug his product on a stamp, thereby entered the most select circles of his chosen profession. jerry bought enough of the stamps to paper the walls of his swank and spacious penthouse offices, for the benefit of the swarm of tourists who invaded the place daily during afternoon open-house hours. they all wanted to see an advertising agency; to them, this phenomenon was the essence of that primitive planet, earth. jerry had recorded a lecture on primitive earth customs which issued from concealed loudspeakers, and filled display cases with exhibits of primitive earth culture, emphasizing the aspects he felt these extraterrestrials would find most exotic. considering the fact that jerry had managed to learn little about the federated planets that was not utterly essential to the mechanics of his advertising campaign there, he had done a pretty good job of "getting on the customer's side of the counter." every tourist jerry talked to had been conditioned, by some unrevealed but apparently foolproof process, not to repeat the ambassador's error of mentioning matter repositors, or other aspects of life on the federated planets that might cause repercussions on earth. even tourist children couldn't be bribed with lollypops. tourists talked a great deal, in fluent idiomatic earth english, yet somehow said very little. but jerry knew at least one thing--he was stirring emotions that lay so deep under layers and layers of civilization that these shining, perfect people hadn't known they were capable of feeling them, until they visited earth. he was getting under their smooth skins, just as surely as the monotone of a haitian drum-beat gets under the skin of a new yorker. one of the display cases contained the working tools of gangsterism--sawed-off shotguns, blackjacks, a model of a bullet-proof automobile, a news photo of the st. valentine's day massacre, a clipping about police payoffs from houses of gambling and prostitution, another about blindness resulting from wood alcohol. the shot-glasses of authentic antique bootleg gin that stood on top the cases were often smelled but never sampled. the second case showed a chart of fluctuations of the stock market, with an actual operating ticker in the middle. sections of the tape were much in demand as souvenirs. but the photo of a smashed body of a once-wealthy man who jumped from his office window after losing his fortune caused the most comment. the tourists found it difficult to understand how this man could consider his life less important than his bank balance. the largest case contained models of war weapons, a lurid painting of pearl harbor under aerial attack, another of the hiroshima mushroom that ushered in the atomic age. there were gas masks, artificial limbs, a photo of a blinded veteran led by a seeing-eye dog. the tourists gaped at that exhibit with all the relish of coney island crowds visiting wax replicas of famous murder scenes. and along the entire -foot wall of the reception room, a photo-mural of a ragged, depression-era breadline brooded over the sleek heads of the beautifully dressed and elaborately fed tourists. on his way back to the office after lunch one day, jerry spied a traffic-stopping cluster of humanity in the street outside one of the city's leading department stores. the crowd was gathered around a paddy-wagon. never diffident, jerry elbowed his way through the crush, to see two handsome and once well-groomed gentlemen getting a mussing up from a couple of cops. the suspects, athletic-looking characters, were putting up a good fight, and the policemen didn't like it. as jerry watched, a billy descended on a well-barbered head, and suspect number one ceased resisting arrest. jerry had come into contact with enough extraterrestrials by now so that he knew a tourist when he saw one. the male tourists gave him a violent pain in the neck, but he felt somewhat responsible. he grabbed an elbow of the suspect who remained conscious. "give me your name, bud, and i'll bail you out. what happened?" "oh, we just took a few things off the counters in that store," the tourist answered. "you're very kind, but we have plenty of money for bail, thanks. or is it a bribe you're supposed to hand them?" "if you have plenty of money, why in hell didn't you buy the stuff, instead of stealing it?" "we just thought we'd have a bit of a lark. new experience and all that. when on earth, do as the earthmen do." "a lark!" the biggest policeman grunted. "we'll give you a lark, all right! get in there, you!" he implemented his command with a well-placed kick in the seat of a pair of expertly tailored pants, boosting the tourist into the paddy-wagon, where his unconscious friend had already been deposited. the siren screamed, dispersing the crowd in front of the police vehicle, and jerry went on his way, chuckling. as he passed a hole-in-the-wall bar he knew, he decided to stop for a quick one, to settle the heavy feeling in his stomach that came from eating lobster newburg for lunch. it wasn't a place where you'd care to take a lady, but they served an honest ounce. as jerry pushed through the old-fashioned swinging doors, a burst of sound greeted him. a whiskey baritone was rendering one of the unpublishable versions of "christopher columbo," to the accompaniment of a piano tinkle by the hired help. the customer was obviously from the other side of the tracks--from the other side of the galaxy, in fact--and he was leaning against the piano for the simple reason that he couldn't stand up. he wore a well-cut california-style dinner jacket, and after all night and half the day, the white gabardine was no longer white. several drinks had been spilled on the midnight-blue flannel trousers. only a magnificent physique distinguished him from the earth or garden variety of drunk. jerry stood up to the bar, and as his eyes became accustomed to the dimness, he observed a touching--literally--scene being enacted in the darkest booth. an earthside racetrack tout, whom jerry recognized as one of the habitues of the place, had a gorgeous female tourist backed into a corner. she had retreated as far as the wall permitted, but he had long since caught up. her jaunty, elbow-length chinchilla cape lay on the wet table. her exquisitely simple strapless dinner dress of silver lamé exposed arms and shoulders that were literally out of this world. the naked effect was relieved only by a diamond, platinum, and emerald choker. jerry knew, though the racetrack tout probably didn't, that the priceless bauble was repositor--synthesized, with an earth museum piece as a model. it was a tossup whether the race track tout was more interested in the diamonds or the tempting flesh they adorned. the girl made no attempt to fight him off. the reason for her acquiescence was not far to seek. the glass before her contained the remains of a "pink lady," which tastes like an ice-cream soda and kicks like four kentucky mules. she moved her left hand to pick up the glass, and jerry caught the flash of a circlet of channel-set baguette diamonds on the third finger. he concluded that she was the wife of the whiskey baritone. that worthy seemed utterly unconcerned about the whole thing, so why should jerry interfere? the racetrack tout left his conquest momentarily, walked over to the bar, handed the bartender a five-spot. without comment, the bartender took down a key tagged from a hook, and the turf expert pocketed it. there was a dingy sign reading "hotel" outside; jerry had always supposed the floors above contained equally dingy furnished rooms. the beautiful tourist's silver heels mounted the back stairs unsteadily. the tout was half steering her, half supporting her. the man was sober enough to know exactly what he was doing. when she came back down those stairs, she would be minus not only her virtue, but her diamond necklace as well. "oh, he knew the world was round-o, that sailors could be found-o," the whiskey baritone sang lustily. jerry left the saloon with a bad taste in his mouth. as he passed through the electric-eye doorway of his office suite, he had the impression that the too perfect inhabitants of all the color advertising pages he had turned out in past years had suddenly come to life. handsome tourists were moving, in chattering groups, from one display case to another. their chatter, as usual, gave him few clues. he still harbored a suspicion that on their home planets, these lovely people might be symbiotes in the bodies of lower animals, or loathsome but intellectual worms. but he never had any success when he tried to pump them about whether they were like earth inhabitants at home, or were issued these magnificent bodies and faces along with their passports to earth. his unreasoning dislike of the males was undoubtedly part jealousy, for they were all tall, handsome, well-dressed, and athletic enough to be signed en masse by hollywood. but the universal utter perfection of limb, features, and complexion, was not at all repulsive in the female. it was quite decorative to have a whole chorus of toothsome girls in paris gowns cluttering up the office. jerry had never seen one of them use a lipstick, rouge, or an eyebrow pencil. the cosmetic business was one of the few that had not profited from the tourist trade, except insofar as lady tourists bought costly perfumes, and earthgirls strove to mimic the natural--or unnatural--coloring of the fair visitors. a few tourists brought their children along, and here the firm, rosy, unblemished skin was in its proper element. tourist children were not one whit more cherubic than well-favored children of earth. a guide from the conducted tours company arrived to round up a batch of tourists, for a visit to the local jails, flop-houses, and gambling dens. he announced they would go by bus, and the horrified yet delighted whoops that greeted this news reminded jerry of a boston society dowager who had just been invited to ride on a camel. as the crowd trickled out the doors, a lovely vision in platinum blonde laid a slender hand on jerry's arm. "are you really the man who first thought of inviting us to this quaint and delightful planet?" she gushed. "i guess i am, lady. how do you like it?" "oh, it's so primitive! so elemental! everybody used to think visiting backward planets was dull and scholarly stuff. it took _you_ to show us how thrilling and exciting it can be!" "i'm glad to hear you say that. some of the tourists are complaining that earth isn't as primitive as the tourist bureau advertising makes it out to be." "oh, you _do_ exaggerate a wee, tiny bit, but it's all in good fun, isn't it? on the whole, i'm not disappointed--especially not in the _men_!" she fluttered eyelashes, so long and dark that they looked artificial, at him. "the men?" jerry asked blankly. "oh, come, come!" the platinum blonde breathed throatily into his ear. "don't pretend to be so innocent! you must have heard of the simply _terrific_ reputation earthmen have acquired on other planets as masterful lovers!" "it's news to me," jerry admitted, "but it sounds like a good drawing card. i'll try to work something like that into our ads." "always thinking about business, aren't you? why don't you think of something else, for a change? me, for instance. don't you feel a little bit sorry for a girl like me, with nothing but perfectly civilized men to go home to?" the girl pouted invitingly. jerry found himself, by imperceptible stages, being backed into a corner. well, well, he thought. perhaps he'd been too harsh in judging that racetrack tout. "since you mention it," jerry said, "i'm not averse to playing the role of galactic beachboy." "what does a beachboy do?" "i'd blush to explain it verbally to a girl unaccustomed to primitive earth customs, but i'm pretty good at sign language. how about dinner tonight?" "well ... if you'll let me pay the check. i do so adore this amazing earth custom of exchanging food for little slips of paper." "the pleasure is all yours, sister. see you at the ritz main dining room--eight o'clock. soup and fish. afterward, we'll look at my photo-murals. now toddle along, baby, if you want to catch the bus to see those hoboes." jerry was walking on the milky way. aside from the profits, this job had its esthetic side, he decided. his exuberance was slightly dampened by the grim expression on his secretary's face. "a very important man has been waiting to see you," she said disapprovingly. "i sent him into your office. the least i could do was put him where he wouldn't have to smell all the perfume these brazen tourist women use. it's enough to make a person ill!" in the visitor's chair before jerry's mother-of-pearl inlaid desk, the ambassador from outer space was waiting, staring morosely at the endlessly repeated welcoming goddess terra on jerry's wall stamp collection. "well, as i live and breathe!" jerry exclaimed, "a real, live b- pilot! welcome to my humble grass shack! scotch? cigar? what can i do for you?" "you can put out your bonfire, cannibal," the ambassador said, gruffly. "i think i've stewed enough." "why are you tough, then?" jerry asked. "at me, i mean. i thought i was your best friend in this here jungle. didn't i do you a favor once, mr. ambassador?" "a _favor_? i paid you well for it! not only in money, but by getting advertising space for your precious tourist bureau on the federated planets. i never thought it would lead to this!" "you thought my copy wouldn't pull, eh? not even after i'd demonstrated i could make earth opinion do a flip-flop on that matter repositor deal?" "oh, i was quite sure you could manipulate earthmen. that's your job. but i didn't believe our people would respond in such numbers to an appeal to primitive emotions!" "you weren't alone in that," jerry said smugly. "some very prominent members, of our organization wanted to make the campaign more civilized. i showed them where they were wrong. can't you see that your people are fed up with civilization, right up to their pretty white necks? the very essence of earth's appeal to them is that a trip here gives them a chance to relax their ethics, to play at going native." "don't rub it in!" the ambassador shuddered. "it's nothing new. tourists have always kicked up their heels. guess what i saw while i was out to lunch. the cops grabbed a couple of your boys for shoplifting! they thought it was such fun to ride in the paddy-wagon. back home, of course, they wouldn't think of repositing anything they weren't supposed to, but on earth it's different." "and for monkeyshines like that," the ambassador growled, "i am driven half crazy working out sleep-record courses. '_idioms of earth english_'--'_what not to say on backward planets and why_'--'_earth fashion guide, what you can buy there and what to reposit_.' bah! i'm supposed to be a diplomat, not a fashion adviser!" "why don't you hire some help?" jerry suggested. "i have. i've hired a whole staff, with offices in all major earth cities, to exchange platinum, bullion, and precious stones for earth currencies. it's a man-sized job, i can tell you, to keep earth currencies stable under this load!" "you're doing a very good job," jerry said, soothingly. "you know what one of our citizens asked me yesterday? _how she could get a marriage license!_ your officials had turned her down, because she'd been conditioned not to mention her birthplace and age. mind you, a citizen of the federated planets wanted to marry an earthman and live on this raw, galactic frontier the rest of her life! why, we don't even know whether the races can cross-breed!" "that should be looked into," jerry agreed. "what are you trying to do?" the ambassador demanded, "drag the citizens of the federated planets down to the level of your jungle? you blithely assume those two shoplifters can be trusted with matter repositors when they get back home, but i'm not so sure. we haven't any jails to toss them into, but we may have to establish some. matter-repositor-proof jails!" "that's your problem," jerry said. "all i'm trying to do is make some money for myself and, other businessmen on earth. which i'm doing, thank you. and i doubt that you could stop me, at this point. your citizens would raise quite a howl if my ads stopped appearing in the information bulletins." "money!" the ambassador exclaimed, "all you earthmen think about is money!" he leaned over jerry's desk. "what if you could reposit the money--the gold, that is--without all the work you have to put into entertaining these tourists?" "hmm," jerry said, thinking of his date for that evening, and other equally lovely tourists. "money isn't the only thing in life. and don't forget the income tax. i've got to have some deductible expenses." "knowing you, i'd bet you could figure out some way of handling that little detail." "what's your proposition?" "two years ago, you came to my office, wanting to import matter repositors. i told you earth's civilization wasn't ready for them." "we still aren't, according to what you say about our avaricious instincts." "no, you're not. but you have methods of manipulating public opinion and attitudes that are far more advanced than those found on other planets." "so you admit that earth is advanced in _something_!" jerry said happily. "how would you like to have the name of jerry jergins go down in your history as the originator of the most significant public-relations campaign ever undertaken on this planet?" the ambassador asked, temptingly. "you can handle it, if any man on earth can." "softsoaping me again! what's the campaign? i'll listen to it, but i don't know whether i'll buy it." "your job would be to get earth's psychology and sociology ready for the matter repositor." jerry reflected. "you mean i'd have to eliminate war, supplement the voice of america, and so on? i'd have certain advantages over the voice of america, at that. i wouldn't have a bunch of politicians playing football with my appropriations." "this campaign would have to go further and deeper than the voice of america. you might call it the voice of conscience. its aim would be to make every human being on earth care more about the welfare of his fellow-man than he cares about his own." "a couple of thousand years back," jerry said, soberly, "a better promoter than i tried to put that idea across. the campaign he started is still running. it's taken hold in some quarters, but i wouldn't say public acceptance is anything like worldwide yet." "then you don't think you can do it?" the ambassador asked, his eagerness somewhat deflated. "i'm not committing myself to whether i could or couldn't. i could put the ten commandments on an international hookup. thou shalt not steal. thou shalt not covet thy neighbor his goods. i could get walt disney to dramatize the golden rule." "ah, i see you have some ideas for the copy already," the ambassador said. "i thought i could get you interested in it. then you'll sign a contract?" "no," jerry said, briefly and definitely. "now, wait a minute, mr. jergins," the ambassador protested. "why do you suddenly become blunt and unqualified? do you realize what i'm offering you? in return for ceasing this tourist promotion, i'm offering you the invention that obsolesces all others--the matter repositor!" jerry stood up and placed the palms of his hands flat on his desk. "i told you that you'd learn something in our primitive jungle, mr. ambassador. well, this is it. we may be mechanical morons, according to your standards, but we naked savages can produce anything we need. since we've corrected the misconception that what earth produces isn't good enough for earthmen, and whipped up a tourist trade, business is booming. and when it booms, we can distribute those earth products in a way that suits us pretty well. a primitive way, you may think, but one that is adapted to the unfortunate circumstance that we aren't a bunch of little tin saints living in an ideal world. "i asked you for matter repositors once, and you were wise enough to turn me down. i'm glad you did. they'd cause us more trouble than the atomic bomb. we don't want the damn things. do _you_ understand _that_?" on sudden impulse, jerry strode across his office. there stood a large and brilliantly colored object, jarring oddly with the other furniture. sometimes at a loss to spend his newly acquired wealth, jerry had yielded, a month or so before, to a desire conceived in childhood to own a real honest-to-goodness juke box. jerry fished in his pocket for a nickel, deposited it in the slot, pushed button seven. loud, tinny, and offensively blatant, the strains of "i don't wanna leave the congo" filled the office, effectively drowning out any further remarks the ambassador from outer space might have wished to make. "if you'll pardon me," jerry shouted over the din, "i have some arrow heads to chip--and a potential extraterrestrial mate to woo with a quaint tribal ritual we call dating on earth."