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diff --git a/old/44151-h/44151-h.htm b/old/44151-h/44151-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index bedc16d..0000000 --- a/old/44151-h/44151-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3971 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> - -<!DOCTYPE html -PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" -"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> -<head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> -<title> -Perkins of Portland, by Ellis Parker Butler -</title> -<style type="text/css"> - <!-- - body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } - hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} - .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } - blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} - .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} - .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} - div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } - div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } - .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} - .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} - .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 100%; font-style:normal; - margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; - text-align: right;} - .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} - span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } - pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} - --> -</style> -</head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Perkins of Portland, by Ellis Parker Butler - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Perkins of Portland -Perkins The Great - -Author: Ellis Parker Butler - -Release Date: November 10, 2013 [EBook #44151] -Last Updated: March 11, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PERKINS OF PORTLAND *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger - - - - - -</pre> - -<div style="height: 8em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h1> -PERKINS OF PORTLAND -</h1> -<h2> -PERKINS THE GREAT -</h2> -<p> -<br /> -</p> -<h2> -By Ellis Parker Butler -</h2> -<p> -<br /> <br /> -</p> -<h4> -BOSTON HERBERT B. TURNER & CO. 1906 -</h4> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img alt="frontispiece (105K)" src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img alt="titlepage (45K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<p> -<b>CONTENTS</b> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0001"> I. MR. PERKINS OF PORTLAND </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0002"> II. THE ADVENTURE OF MR. SILAS BOGGS </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0003"> III. THE ADVENTURE OF THE LAME AND THE HALT </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0004"> IV. THE ADVENTURE OF THE FIFTH STREET CHURCH -</a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0005"> V. THE ADVENTURE IN AUTOMOBILES </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0006"> VI. THE ADVENTURE OF THE POET </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE CRIMSON CORD </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VIII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE PRINCESS OF PILLIWINK -</a> -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -I. MR. PERKINS OF PORTLAND -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HERE was very little about Perkins that was not peculiar. To mention his -peculiarities would be a long task; he was peculiar from the ground up. -His shoes had rubber soles, his hat had peculiar mansard ventilators on -each side, his garments were vile as to fit, and altogether he had the -appearance of being a composite picture. -</p> -<p> -We first met in the Golden Hotel office in Cleveland, Ohio. I was reading -a late copy of a morning paper and smoking a very fairish sort of cigar, -when a hand was laid on my arm. I turned and saw in the chair beside me a -beaming face. -</p> -<p> -“Just read that!” he said, poking an envelope under my nose. “No, no!” he -cried; “on the back of it.” - </p> -<p> -What I read was: -</p> -<p> -“Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster Makes all pains and aches fly faster.” - </p> -<p> -“Great, isn't it?” he asked, before I could express myself. “That first -line, 'Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster,' just takes the cake. And the last -line! That is a gem, if I do say it myself. Has the whole story in seven -words. 'All pains and aches!' Everything from sore feet to backache; all -the way from A to Z in the dictionary of diseases. Comprehensive as a -presidential message. Full of meat as a refrigerator- car. 'Fly faster!' -Faster than any other patent med. or dope would make them fly. 'Makes!' -They've got to fly! See? 'Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster MAKES all pains -and aches fly faster,' 'makes ALL pains and aches fly faster,' 'makes all -pains and aches fly FASTER.' Isn't she a beaut.? Say, you can't forget -that in a thousand years. You'll find yourself saying it on your -death-bed: -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“'Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster -Makes all pains and aches fly faster.'” - </pre> -<p> -I held the envelope toward him, but he only tapped it with his finger. -</p> -<p> -“There is a fortune in those two lines,” he said. “I know it I'm Perkins, -known from Maine to California as Perkins of Portland, Perkins the -Originator. I have originated more ads. than any man living. See that -shoe? It's the 'Go-lightly' kind. I originated the term. See this hat? -It's Pratt's. 'Pratt's Hats Air the Hair.' I originated that ad. Result, -six million pair of the Go-lightly kind of shoes sold the first year. -Eight million Pratt's Hats sold on the strength of 'Air-the-Hair.' See -this suit? I originated the term 'Ready-tailored.' Result, a boom for the -concern. Everybody crazy for Ready-tailored clothes. It's all in the ad. -The ad.'s the thing. Say, who originated 'up-to-date in style, -down-to-date in price?' I did. Made half a million for a collar concern on -that. See that fringe on those pants? And to think that the man who's -wearing them has made millions! Yes, millions—for other guys. But -he's done. It's all off with Willie. Now Willie is going to make money for -himself. Mr. Perkins of Portland is going to get rich. Are you with him?” - </p> -<p> -“How is the plaster?” I asked, for there was something taking about -Perkins. “Is it good for anything?” - </p> -<p> -“Plaster!” he said. “Bother the plaster! The ad.'s all right, and that's -the main thing. Give me a good ad., and I'll sell lead bullets for liver -pills. Display 'Perkins's Bullets Kill the Disease' in all the magazines, -and in a year every person with or without a liver would be as full of -lead as a printer's case. Paint it on ten thousand barns, and the -inhabitants of these glorious States would be plugged up like Mark Twain's -frog. Now I have here an ad. that is a winner. Give me fifty thousand -dollars, and we will have every man, woman, and child in America dreaming, -thinking, and wearing Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster. We will have it in -every magazine, on every barn, fence, and rock, in the street-cars, on -highways and byways, until the refrain will ring in sixty million American -heads— -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“'Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster -Makes all pains and aches fly faster.” - </pre> -<p> -“But, my dear sir,” I said, “is the plaster good?” - </p> -<p> -Mr. Perkins of Portland leaned over and whispered in my ear, “There is no -plaster.” - </p> -<p> -“What?” I cried. -</p> -<p> -“Not yet,” he said, “that will come later. We will get that later. Law of -supply and demand, you know. When there is a demand, there always turns up -a supply to fill it. See the point? You look bright. See this. We -advertise. Get, say, fifty thousand orders at ten dollars each; total, -five hundred thousand dollars. What next? We sell out. We go to some big -concern. 'Here,' we say—'Here is an article advertised up to the -handle. Here are orders for five hundred thousand dollars' worth. Thing on -the boom. Give us two hundred thousand cash, and get up your old plaster, -and fill the orders. Thanks. Good day.' See? They get a well-established -business. We get a clear profit of one hundred and fifty thousand. What -next? We get up another ad. Invest our whole capital. Sell out for a -million. Invest again, sell out again. In ten years we can buy Manhattan -Island for our town-seat and Chicago for our country-seat. The richest -firm in the world—Perkins and—” - </p> -<p> -“Brown,” I said, supplying the blank; “but I haven't fifty thousand -dollars, nor yet ten thousand.” - </p> -<p> -“What have you got?” he asked, eagerly. “Just five thousand.” - </p> -<p> -“Done!” Perkins cried. -</p> -<p> -And the next day we had the trade-mark registered, and had made contracts -with all the Cleveland papers. -</p> -<p> -“You see,” said Perkins, “we are shy of money. We can't bill the universe -with a measly little five thou. We've got to begin small. Our territory is -Ohio. Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster shall be known to every Buckeye, and -we will sell out for twenty thousand.” - </p> -<p> -So we soon had the words, -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster -Makes all pains and aches fly faster,” - </pre> -<p> -on the fences and walls throughout Ohio. Every paper proclaimed the same -catchy couplet. One or two magazines informed the world of it. The -bill-boards heralded it. In fact, Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster was in -everybody's mouth, and bade fair to be on everybody's back as soon as -there was a Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster to put on those same backs. -</p> -<p> -For Perkins was right. The backs seemed fairly to ache for plasters of our -making. From all over the State druggists wrote for terms; and we soon -kept two typewriters busy informing the anxious pharmacists that, owing to -the unprecedented demand, our factory was two months behind on orders, and -that “your esteemed favor will have our earliest attention, and all orders -will be filled in rotation at the earliest possible moment.” Each day -brought a deluge of letters, and we received several quite unsolicited -testimonials to the merits of Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster. Perkins was -radiant. -</p> -<p> -Then he faded. -</p> -<p> -He set out to sell the trade-mark, and failed! No one wanted it. Money was -tight, and patent medicines were a drug. -</p> -<p> -Porous Plasters were dead. Perkins was worried. Day followed day; and the -orders began to decrease, while countermands began to arrive. We had just -two hundred dollars left, and bills for four thousand dollars' worth of -advertisements on our file. At last Perkins gave up. He came in, and -leaned despondently against my desk. Sorrow marked every feature. -</p> -<p> -“No use,” he said, dolefully, “they won't bite. We have to do it.” - </p> -<p> -“What?” I asked; “make an assignment?” - </p> -<p> -“Nonsense!” cried Perkins. “Fill those orders ourselves!” - </p> -<p> -“But where can we get—” - </p> -<p> -“The plasters?” Perkins scratched his head. He repeated softly, “Makes all -pains and aches fly faster,” and swung one foot sadly. “That's it,” he -said; “where?” - </p> -<p> -The situation was becoming acute. We must have plasters quickly or fail. A -look of sadness settled on his face, and he dropped limply into a chair. -Instantly he sprang to his feet with a yell. He grasped the tail of his -coat and tugged and struggled. He had sat on a sheet of sticky fly-paper, -and he was mad, but even while he struggled with it, his eyes brightened, -and he suddenly darted out of the office door, with the fly-paper rattling -behind him. -</p> -<p> -In two hours he returned. He had a punch such as harness-makers use to -punch holes in straps, a pair of scissors, and a smile as broad as his -face was long. -</p> -<p> -“They will be here in ten minutes!” he cried. “Sit right down and write to -all of our ad. mediums to hold that ad. for a change. In one year we will -buy the soldiers' monument for a paper-weight, and purchase Euclid Avenue -for a bowling-alley! Get off your coat. I've ordered fifty thousand paper -boxes, one hundred thousand labels, and two hundred thousand plasters. The -first lot of boxes will be here to-morrow, and the first batch of labels -to-night. The plasters will be here in five minutes. It's a wonder I -didn't think of it when I wrote the ad. The new ad. will sell two plasters -to every one the old one sold.” - </p> -<p> -“Where in thunder—” I began. -</p> -<p> -“At the grocery, of course,” he cried, as if it were the most natural -place to find porous plasters. “I bought every wholesale grocer in town -out of 'em. Cleaned them plump up. I've got enough to fill all orders, and -some over. The finest in the land. Stick closer than a brother, 'feel -good, are good,' as I wrote for a stocking concern. Stay on until they -wear off.” - </p> -<p> -He was right. The trucks soon began to arrive with the cases. They were -piled on the walk twenty high, they were piled in the street, we piled our -office full, and put some in the vacant room across the hall. There were -over a thousand cases of sticky fly-paper. -</p> -<p> -We cut the sheets into thirds, and sprinkled a little cayenne pepper on -the sticky side with a pepper-shaker, and then punched holes in them. -Later we got a rubber stamp, and printed the directions for use on each; -but we had no time for that then. When the boxes began to arrive, Perkins -ran down and gathered in three newsboys, and constituted them our packing -force. By the end of the week we had our orders all filled. -</p> -<p> -And our plasters stuck! None ever stuck better. They stuck forever. They -wouldn't peel off, they wouldn't wash off, they wouldn't scrape off. When -one wore off, it left the stickiness there; and the victim had to buy -another to paste on top of the old one before he could put on a shirt. It -was a huge success. -</p> -<p> -We changed our ad. to read: -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“Perkins's Paper Porous Plaster -Makes all pains and aches fly faster,” - </pre> -<p> -and branched out into the magazines. We sent a to Europe, and now some of -the crowned heads are wearing our plasters. You all remember Stoneley's -account of meeting a tribe of natives in the wilds of Africa wearing -nothing but Perkins's Paper Porous Plasters, and recall the celebrated -words of Rodriguez Velos, second understudy to the Premier of Spain, -“America is like Perkins's Paper Porous Plasters—a thing not to be -sat on.” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/030.jpg" alt="030" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -Five months ago we completed our ten-story factory, and increased our -capital stock to two millions; and those to whom we offered the trade-mark -in our early days are green with regret. Perkins is abroad now in his -private yacht. Queer old fellow, too, for he still insists on wearing the -Go-lightly shoes and the Air-the-Hair hat, in spite of the fact that he -hasn't enough hair left to make a miniature paint-brush. -</p> -<p> -I asked him before he left for his cruise when he was from,—Portland, -Me., or Portland, Oreg.,—and he laughed. -</p> -<p> -“My dear boy,” he said, “it's all in the ad. 'Mr. Perkins of Portland' is -a phrase to draw dollars. I'm from Chicago. Get a phrase built like a -watch, press the button, and the babies cry for it.” - </p> -<p> -That's all. But in closing I might remark that if you ever have any -trouble with a weak back, pain in the side, varicose veins, heavy -sensation in the chest, or, in fact, any ailment whatever, just remember -that -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -Perkins's Paper Porous Plaster -Make all pains and aches fly faster. -</pre> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -II. THE ADVENTURE OF MR. SILAS BOGGS -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>EFORE my friend Perkins became famous throughout the advertising world,—and -what part of the world does not advertise,—he was at one time a -soliciting agent for a company that controlled the “patent insides” of a -thousand or more small Western newspapers. Later, my friend Perkins -startled America by his renowned advertising campaign for Pratt's hats; -and, instead of being plain Mr. Perkins of Chicago, he blossomed into -Perkins of Portland. Still later, when he put Perkins's Patent Porous -Plaster on the market, he became great; became Perkins the Great, in fact; -and now advertisers, agents, publishers, and the world in general, bow -down and worship him. But I love to turn at times from the blaze of his -present glory to those far-off days when he was still a struggling -amateur, just as we like to read of Napoleon's early history, tracing in -the small beginnings of their lives the little rivulets of genius that -later overwhelmed the world, and caused the universe to pause in -stupefaction. -</p> -<p> -Who would have thought that the gentle Perkins, who induced Silas Boggs to -place a five-line ad. in a bunch of back-county weeklies, would ever -thrill the nation with the news that -</p> -<p> -Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster Make all pains and aches fly faster, and -keep up the thrill until the Perkins Plaster was so to speak, in every -mouth! -</p> -<p> -And yet these two men were the same. Plain Perkins, who urged and begged -and prayed Silas Boggs to let go of a few dollars, and Perkins the Great, -the Originator,—Perkins of Portland, who originated the Soap Dust -Triplets, the Smile that Lasts for Aye, Ought-to-hawa Biscuit,—who, -in short, is the father, mother, and grandparent of modern advertising, -are the selfsame Perkinses. From such small beginnings can the world's -great men spring. -</p> -<p> -In the days before the kodak had a button to press while they do the rest; -even before Royal Baking Powder was quite so pure as “absolutely,”—it -was then about 99 99/100% pure, like Ivory Soap,—in those days, I -say, long before Soapine “did it” to the whale, Mr. Silas Boggs awoke one -morning, and walked out to his wood-shed in a pair of carpet slippers. His -face bore an expression of mingled hope and doubt; for he was expecting -what the novelists call an interesting event,—in fact, a birth,—and, -quite as much in fact, a number of births—anywhere from five to a -dozen. Nor was Silas Boggs a Mormon. He was merely the owner of a few -ravenous guinea-pigs. It is well known that in the matter of progeny the -guinea-pig surpasses the famous Soap Dust, although that has, as we all -know, triplets on every bill-board. -</p> -<p> -Mr. Silas Boggs was not disappointed. Several of his spotted pets had done -their best to discountenance race suicide; and Silas, having put clean -water and straw and crisp lettuce leaves in the pens, began to examine the -markings of the newcomers, for he was an enthusiast on the subject of -guinea-pigs. He loved guinea-pigs as some connoisseurs love oil paintings. -He was fonder of a nicely marked guinea-pig than a dilettante is of a fine -Corot. And his fad had this advantage. You can place a pair of oil -paintings in a room, and leave them there for ages, and you will never -have another oil painting unless you buy one; but if you place a pair of -guinea-pigs in a room—then, as Rudyard says so often, that is -another story. -</p> -<p> -Suddenly Mr. Silas Boggs stood upright and shouted aloud in joy. He hopped -around the wood-shed on one leg, clapping his hands and singing. Then he -knelt down again, and examined more closely the little spotted creature -that caused his joy. It was true, beyond doubt! One of his pigs had -presented him with something the world had never known before—a -lop-eared guinea-pig! His fame was sure from that moment. He would be -known to all the breeders of guinea-pigs the world over as the owner of -the famous lop-eared spotted beauty. He christened her Duchess on the -spot, not especially because duchesses have lop-ears, but because he liked -the name. That was in the days before people began calling things Nearwool -and Ka-bosh-ko and Ogeta Jaggon, and similar made-to-order names. -</p> -<p> -To Mr. Boggs, in the midst of his joy, came a thought; and he feverishly -raked out with his hands the remaining newly born guinea-piglets, -examining one after another. Oh, joy! He almost fainted! There was another -lop-eared pig in the litter; and, what filled his cup to overflowing, he -was able to christen the second one Duke! -</p> -<p> -At that moment Perkins walked into the wood-shed. Perkins at that time had -a room in the Silas Boggs mansion, and he entered the wood-shed merely to -get an armful of wood with which to replenish his fire. -</p> -<p> -“Well, Boggs,” he remarked in his cheerful way—and I may remark -that, since Perkins has become famous, every advertising agent has copied -his cheerful manner of speech, so that the ad. man who does not greet you -with a smile no longer exists— -</p> -<p> -“Well, Boggs,” he remarked, “more family ties, I see. Great thing, family -ties. What is home without sixty-eight guinea-pigs?” - </p> -<p> -Silas Boggs grinned. “Perkins!” he gasped. “Perkins! Oh, Perkins! My dear -Perkins!” But he could get no farther, so overcome was he by his emotions. -It was fully ten minutes before he could fully and clearly explain that -the stork had brought him a pair—the only pair—of lop-eared -guinea-pigs; and in the meantime Perkins had loaded his left arm with -stove wood, and stood clasping it, overhand, with his right arm. When -Silas Boggs managed to tell his wonderful news, Perkins dropped the armful -of wood on the floor with a crash. -</p> -<p> -“Boggs!” he cried, “Boggs! Now is your chance! Now is your golden -opportunity! Advertise, my boy, advertise!” - </p> -<p> -“What?” asked Silas Boggs, in amazement. -</p> -<p> -“I say—advertise!” exclaimed Perkins again. -</p> -<p> -“And I say—advertise what?” said Silas Boggs. -</p> -<p> -“Advertise what?” Perkins ejaculated. “What should you advertise, but -Silas Boggs's Celebrated Lop-eared Guinea-pigs? What has the world been -waiting and longing and pining for but the lop-eared guinea-pig? Why has -the world been full of woe and pain, but because it lacked lop-eared -guinea-pigs? Why are you happy this morning? Because you have lop-eared -guinea-pigs! Don't be selfish, Silas—give the world a chance. Let -them into the joy-house on the ground floor. Sell them lop-eared -guinea-pigs and joy. Advertise, and get rich!” - </p> -<p> -Silas Boggs shook his head. -</p> -<p> -“No!” he said. “No! I can't. I have only two. I'll keep them.” - </p> -<p> -Perkins seated himself on the wood-pile. -</p> -<p> -“Silas,” he said, “if I understand you, one of these lop-eared guinea-pigs -is a lady, and the other is a gentleman. Am I right?” - </p> -<p> -“You are,” remarked Silas Boggs. -</p> -<p> -“And I believe the guinea-pigs usually marry young, do they not?” asked -Perkins. -</p> -<p> -“They do,” admitted Silas Boggs. -</p> -<p> -“I think, if I am not mistaken,” said Perkins, “that you have told me they -have large and frequent families. Is it so?” - </p> -<p> -“Undoubtedly,” agreed Silas Boggs. -</p> -<p> -“And you have stated,” said Perkins, “that those families many young and -have large and frequent families that also marry young and have large and -frequent families, have you not?” - </p> -<p> -“I have! I have!” exclaimed Silas Boggs, beginning to warm up. -</p> -<p> -“Then,” said Perkins, “in a year you ought to have many, many lop-eared -guinea-pigs. Is that correct?” - </p> -<p> -“I ought to have thousands!” cried Silas Boggs, in ecstasy. -</p> -<p> -“What is a pair of common guinea-pigs worth?” asked Perkins. -</p> -<p> -“One dollar,” said Silas Boggs. “A lop-eared pair ought to be worth two -dollars, easily.” - </p> -<p> -“Two dollars!” cried Perkins. “Two fiddlesticks! Five dollars, you mean! -Why, man, you have a corner in lop-ears. You have all there are. Shake -hands!” - </p> -<p> -The two men shook hands solemnly. Mr. Perkins was hopefully solemn. Mr. -Boggs was amazedly solemn. -</p> -<p> -“I shake your hand,” said Perkins, “because I congratulate you on your -fortune. You will soon be a wealthy man.” He paused, and then added, “If -you advertise judiciously.” - </p> -<p> -There were real tears in the eyes of Silas Boggs, as he laid his arm -affectionately across Perkins's shoulders. -</p> -<p> -“Perkins,” he said, “I can never repay you. I can never even thank you. I -will advertise. I'll go right into the house and write out an order for -space in every paper you represent. How many papers do you represent, -Perkins?” - </p> -<p> -Perkins coughed. -</p> -<p> -“Perhaps,” he said, gently, “we had better begin small. Perhaps we had -better begin with a hundred or so. There is no use overdoing it. I have -over a thousand papers on my list; and if the lop-eared brand of -guinea-pig shouldn't be as fond of large families as the common guinea-pig -is—if it should turn out to be a sort of fashionable American family -kind of guinea-pig, you know—you might have trouble filling orders.” - </p> -<p> -But Silas Boggs was too enthusiastic to listen to calm advice. He waved -his arms wildly above his head. -</p> -<p> -“No! no!” he shouted. “All, or none, Perkins! No half-measures with Silas -Boggs! No skimping! Give me the whole thousand! I know what advertising is—I've -had experience. Didn't I advertise for a position as vice-president of a -bank last year—and how many replies did I get? Not one! Not one! Not -one, Perkins! I know, you agents are always too sanguine. But I don't ask -the impossible. I'm easily satisfied. If I sell one pair for each of the -thousand papers I'll be satisfied, and I'll consider myself lucky. And as -for the lop-eared guinea-pigs—you furnish the papers, and the -guinea-pigs will do the rest!” - </p> -<p> -Thus, in the face of Perkins's good advice, Silas Boggs inserted a small -advertisement in the entire list of one thousand country weeklies, and -paid cash in advance. To those who know Perkins the Great to-day, such -folly as going contrary to his advice in advertising matters would be -unthought of. His word is law. To follow his advice means success; to -neglect it means failure. -</p> -<p> -He is infallible. But in those days, when his star was but rising above -the horizon, he was not, as he is now, considered the master and leader of -us all—the king of the advertising world—mighty giant of -advertising genius among the dwarfs of imitation. So Silas Boggs refused -his advice. -</p> -<p> -The next month the advertisement of the Silas Boggs Lop-eared Guinea-pigs -began to appear in the weekly newspapers of the West. The advertisement, -although small, was well worded, for Perkins wrote it himself. It was a -gem of advertising writing. It began with a small cut of a guinea-pig, -which, unfortunately, appeared as a black blot in many of the papers; but -this, perhaps, lent an air of mystery to the cut that it would not -otherwise have had. The text was as follows: -</p> -<p> -“The Celebrated Lop-eared Andalusian Guinea-pigs! Hardy and prolific! One -of nature's wonders! Makes a gentle and affectionate pet. For young or -old. YOU CAN MAKE MONEY by raising and selling Lop-eared Andalusian -Guinea-pigs. One pair starts you in business. Send money-order for $10 to -Silas Boggs, 5986 Cottage Grove Avenue, Chicago, HI., and receive a -healthy pair, neatly boxed, by express.” - </p> -<p> -To Silas Boggs the West had theretofore been a vague, colorless expanse -somewhere beyond the West Side of Chicago. Three days after his -advertisements began to appear, he awoke to the fact that the West is a -vast and mighty empire, teeming with millions of souls. And to Silas Boggs -it seemed that those souls had been sleeping for ages, only to be called -to life by the lop-eared Andalusian guinea-pig. The lop-eared Andalusian -guinea-pig was the one touch that made the whole West kin. Mail came to -him by tubfuls and basketfuls. People who despised and reviled the common -guinea-pig were impatient and restless because they had lived so long -without the sweet companionship of the lop-eared Andalusian. From Tipton, -Ia., and Vida, Kan., and Chenawee, Dak., and Orangebloom, Cal., came eager -demands for the hardy and prolific lop-ear. Ministers of the gospel and -babes in arms insisted on having the gentle and affectionate Andalusian -lop-eared guinea-pigs. -</p> -<p> -The whole West arose in its might, and sent money-orders to Silas Boggs. -And Silas Boggs opened the letters as fast as he could, and smiled. He -piled the blue money-orders up in stacks beside him, and smiled. Silas -Boggs was one large, happy smile for one large, happy week. Then he -frowned a little. -</p> -<p> -For all was not well with the lop-eared Andalusian guinea-pigs. They were -not as hardy as he had guaranteed them to be. They seemed to have the pip, -or glanders, or boll-weevil, or something unpleasant. The Duke was not -only lop-eared, but seemed to feel loppy all over. The Duchess, in keeping -with her name, evinced a desire to avoid common society, and sulked in one -corner of her cage. They were a pair of very effete aristocrats. Silas -Boggs gave them catnip tea and bran mash, or other sterling remedies; but -the far-famed lop-eared Andalusians pined away. And, as Silas Boggs sat -disconsolately by their side, he could hear the mail-men relentlessly -dumping more and more letters on the parlor floor. -</p> -<p> -The West was just beginning to realize the desirability of having -lop-eared guinea-pigs at the moment when lop-eared guinea-pigs were on the -point of becoming as extinct as the dodo and mastodon. In a day or two -they became totally extinct, and the lop-eared Andalusian guinea-pig -existed no more. Silas Boggs wept. -</p> -<p> -But his tears did not wash away the constantly increasing heaps of orders. -He ordered Perkins to withdraw his advertisement, but still the orders -continued to come, and Silas Boggs, assisted by a corps of young, but -industrious, ladies, began returning to the eager West the beautiful blue -money-orders; and, if anything sends a pang through a man's breast, it is -to be obliged to return a money-order uncashed. -</p> -<p> -By the end of the month the incoming orders had dwindled to a few thousand -daily—about as many as Silas Boggs and his assistants could return. -By the end of the next month they had begun to make noticeable inroads in -the accumulated piles of orders; and in two months more the floor was -clear, and the arriving orders had fallen to a mere dribble of ten or -twelve a day, but the hair of Silas Boggs had turned gray, and his face -was old and wan. -</p> -<p> -Silas Boggs gave away all his guinea-pigs—the sight of them brought -on something like a fit. He could not even bear to see a lettuce leaf or -cabbage-head. He will walk three blocks to avoid passing an animal store, -for fear he might see a guinea-pig in the window. Only a few days ago I -was praising a certain man to him, and happened to quote the line from -Burns,— -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“Rank is but the guinea's stamp,” - </pre> -<p> -but when I came to the word “guinea,” I saw Silas Boggs turn pale, and put -his hand to his forehead. -</p> -<p> -But he cannot escape the results of his injudicious advertising, even at -this day, so many years after. From time to time some one in the West will -unpack a trunk that has stood for years in some garret, and espying a -faded newspaper laid in the bottom of the trunk, will glance at it -curiously, see the advertisement of the lop-eared Andalusian guinea-pigs, -and send Silas Boggs ten dollars. -</p> -<p> -For an advertisement, like sin, does not end with the day, but goes on and -on, down the mighty corridors of time, and, like the hall-boy in a hotel, -awakes the sleeping, and calls them to catch a train that, sometimes, has -long since gone, just as the lop-eared Andalusians have gone. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -III. THE ADVENTURE OF THE LAME AND THE HALT -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> HAD not seen Perkins for over two years, when one day he opened my -office door, and stuck his head in. I did not see his face at first, but I -recognized the hat. It was the same hat he had worn two years before, when -he put the celebrated Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster on the market. -</p> -<p> -“Pratt's Hats Air the Hair.” You will remember the advertisement. It was -on all the bill-boards. It was Perkins, Perkins of Portland, Perkins the -Great, who conceived the rhyme that sold millions of the hats; and Perkins -was a believer in advertising and things advertised. So he wore a Pratt -hat. That was one of Perkins's foibles. He believed in the things he -advertised. -</p> -<p> -“Get next to a thing,” he would say. “Study it, learn to love it, use it—then -you will know how to boom it. Take Murdock's Soap. Perkins of Portland -boomed it. He bought a cake. Used it. Used it on his hands, on his face, -on his feet. Bought another cake—washed his cotton socks, washed his -silk tie, washed his woollen underwear. Bought another cake—shaved -with it, shampooed with it, ate it. Yes, sir, ate it! Pure soap—no -adulteration. No taste of rosin, cottonseed—no taste of anything but -soap, and lots of that. Spit out lather for a month! Every time I sneezed -I blew a big soap-bubble—perspired little soap-bubbles. Tasted soap -for a year! Result? Greatest ad. of the nineteenth century. 'Murdock's -Soap is pure soap. If you don't believe it, bite it.' Picture of a nigger -biting a cake of soap on every billboard in U. S. A. Live niggers in all -the grocery windows biting cakes of Murdock's Soap. Result? Five hundred -thousand tons of Murdock's sold the first year. I use no other.” And so, -from his “Go-lightly” shoes to his Pratt's hat, Perkins was a relic of -bygone favorites in dress. The result was comical, but it was Perkins; and -I sprang from my chair and grasped his hand. -</p> -<p> -“Perkins!” I cried. -</p> -<p> -He raised his free hand with a restraining motion, and I noticed his -fingers protruded from the tips of the glove. -</p> -<p> -“Say,” he said, still standing on my threshold, “have you a little time?” - </p> -<p> -I glanced at my watch. I had twenty minutes before I must catch my train. -</p> -<p> -“I'll give you ten minutes,” I said. -</p> -<p> -“Not enough,” said Perkins. “I want a year. But I'll take ten minutes on -account. Owe me the rest!” - </p> -<p> -He turned and beckoned into the hall, and a small boy appeared carrying a -very large glass demijohn. Perkins placed the demijohn on a chair, and -stood back gazing at it admiringly. -</p> -<p> -“Great, isn't it?” he asked. “Biggest demijohn made. Heavy as lead! Fine -shape, fine size! But, say—read that!” - </p> -<p> -I bent down and read. The label said: “Onotowatishika Water. Bottled at -the spring. Perkins & Co., Glaubus, Ia.” - </p> -<p> -I began spelling out the name by syllables, “O—no—to—wat—” - when Perkins clapped me on the back. -</p> -<p> -“Great, hey? Can't pronounce it? Nobody can. Great idea. Got old Hunyadi -Janos water knocked into a cocked hat. Hardest mineral water name on -earth. Who invented it? I did. Perkins of Portland. There's money in that -name. Dead loads of money. Everybody that can't pronounce it will want it, -and nobody can pronounce it—everybody'll want it. Must have it. Will -weep for it. But that isn't the best!” - </p> -<p> -“No?” I inquired. -</p> -<p> -“No!” shouted Perkins. “I should say 'no!' Look at that bottle. Look at -the size of it. Look at the weight of it Awful, isn't it? Staggers the -brain of man to think of carrying that across the continent! Nature -recoils, the muscles ache. It is vast, it is immovable, it is mighty. -Say!” - </p> -<p> -Perkins grasped me by the coat-sleeve, and drew me toward him. He -whispered excitedly. -</p> -<p> -“Great idea! O-no-to-what-you-may-call-it water. Big jug full. Jug too -blamed big. Yes? Freight too much. Yes? Listen—'Perkins Pays the -Freight!'” - </p> -<p> -He sat down suddenly, and beamed upon me joyfully. -</p> -<p> -The advertising possibilities of the thing impressed me immediately. Who -could resist the temptation of getting such a monstrous package of -glassware by freight free of charge? I saw the effect of a life-size -reproduction of the bottle on the bill-boards with “Perkins Pays the -Freight” beneath it in red, and the long name in a semicircle of yellow -letters above it. I saw it reduced in the magazine pages, in street-cars—everywhere. -</p> -<p> -“Great?” queried Perkins. -</p> -<p> -“Yes,” I admitted thoughtfully, “it is great.” - </p> -<p> -He was at my side in an instant. -</p> -<p> -“Wonderful effect of difficulty overcome on the human mind!” he bubbled. -“Take a precipice. People look over, shudder, turn away. Put in a -shoot-the-chutes. People fight to get the next turn to slide down. Same -idea. People don't want O-no-to-thing-um-bob water. Hold on, 'Perkins pays -the freight!' All right, send us a demijohn!” - </p> -<p> -I saw that Perkins was, as usual, right. -</p> -<p> -“Very well,” I said, “what do you want me to do about it?” - </p> -<p> -Perkins wanted a year of my time, and all the money I could spare. He -mentioned twenty thousand dollars as a little beginning—a sort of -starter, as he put it. I had faith in Perkins, but twenty thousand was a -large sum to put into a thing on the strength of a name and a phrase. I -settled myself in my chair, and Perkins put his feet up on my desk. He -always could talk better when his feet were tilted up. Perhaps it sent a -greater flow of blood to his brain. -</p> -<p> -“Now about the water?” I asked comfortably. -</p> -<p> -“Vile!” cackled Perkins, gleefully. “Perfectly vile! It is the worst you -ever tasted. You know the sulphur-spring taste? Sort of bad-egg aroma? -Well, this O-no-to-so-forth water is worse than the worst. It's a bonanza! -Say! It's sulphur water with a touch of garlic.” He reached into his -pocket, and brought out a flask. The water it contained was as clear and -sparkling as crystal. He removed the cork, and handed the flask to me. I -sniffed at it, and hastily replaced the cork. -</p> -<p> -Perkins grinned with pleasure. -</p> -<p> -“Fierce, isn't it?” he asked. “Smells as if it ought to cure, don't it? -Got the real old style matery-medica-'pothecary-shop aroma. None of your -little-pill, sugar-coated business about O-no-to-cetera water. Not for a -minute! It's the good old quinine, ipecac, calomel, -know-when-you're-taking-dose sort. Why, say! Any man that takes a dose of -that water has got to feel better. He deserves to feel better.” - </p> -<p> -I sniffed at the flask again, and resolutely returned it to Perkins. -</p> -<p> -“Yes,” I admitted, “it has the full legal allowance of smell. There's no -doubt about it being a medicinal water. Nobody would mistake it for a -table water, Perkins. A child would know it wasn't meant for perfume; but -what is it good for? What will it cure?” - </p> -<p> -Perkins tilted his Pratt hat over one ear, and crossed his legs. -</p> -<p> -“Speaking as one Chicago man to another,” he said slowly, “what do you -think of rheumatism?” - </p> -<p> -“If you want me to speak as man to man, Perkins,” I replied, “I may say -that rheumatism is a mighty uncomfortable disease.” - </p> -<p> -“It's prevalent,” said Perkins, eagerly. “It's the most prevalent disease -on the map. The rich must have it; the poorest can afford it; the young -and the old simply roll in it! Why, man,” he exclaimed, “rheumatism was -made 'specially for O-no-to-so-forth water. There's millions and millions -of cases of rheumatism, and there's oceans and oceans of Perkins's -World-Famous O-no-to-what-you-call-it water. Great? What will cure -rheumatism? Nothing! What will O-no-to-so-on water cure? Nothing! There -you are! They fit each other like a foot in a shoe.” - </p> -<p> -He leaned back, and smiled. Then he waved his hand jauntily in the air. -</p> -<p> -“But I'm not partial,” he added. “If you can think of a better disease, -we'll cure it. Anything!” - </p> -<p> -“Perkins,” I said, “would you take this water for rheumatism?” - </p> -<p> -“Would I? Say! If I had rheumatism I'd live on it. I'd drink it by the -gallon. I'd bathe in it—” - </p> -<p> -He stopped abruptly, and a smile broke forth at one corner of his mouth, -and gradually spread over his face until it broke into a broad grin, which -he vainly endeavored to stifle. -</p> -<p> -“Warm!” he murmured, and then his grin broadened a little, and he muttered—“Lukewarm!”—and -grinned again, and ran his hand through his hair. He sat down and slapped -his knee. -</p> -<p> -“Say!” he cried, “Greatest idea yet! I'm a benefactor! Think of the poor -old people trying to drink that stuff! Think of them trying to force it -down their throats! It would be a sin to make a dog drink it!” - </p> -<p> -He wiped an actual tear from his eye. -</p> -<p> -“What if I had to drink it! What if my poor old mother had to drink it! -Cruelty! But we won't make 'em. We will be good! We will be generous! We -will be great! We will let them bathe in it. Twice a day! Morning and -night! Lukewarm! Why make weak human beings swallow it? And besides, -they'll need more! Think of enough O-no-to-so-forth water to swim in twice -a day, and good old Perkins paying the freight!” - </p> -<p> -Without another word I reached over and clasped Perkins by the hand. It -was a silent communion of souls—of the souls of two live, up-to-date -Chicagoans. When the clasp was loosened, we were bound together in a noble -purpose to supply O-no-to-something water to a waiting, pain-cursed world. -We were banded together like good Samaritans to supply a remedy to the -lame and the halt. And Perkins paying the freight. -</p> -<p> -Then Perkins gave me the details. There were to be three of us in the -deal. There was a young man from Glaubus, Ia., in Chicago, running a -street-car on the North Side. He had been raised near Glaubus, and his -father had owned a farm; but the old man was no financier, and sold off -the place bit by bit, until all that was left was a forty-acre swamp,—“Skunk -Swamp,” they called it, because of the rank water,— and when the old -man died, the son came to Chicago to earn a living. He brought along a -flask of the swamp water, so that when he got homesick, he could take out -the cork, smell it, and be glad he was in Chicago, instead of on the old -place. Up in the corner of the swamp a spring welled up; and that spring -spouted Onotowatishika water day and night, gallons, and barrels, and -floods of it. -</p> -<p> -But it needed a Perkins the Great to know its value. Perkins smelled its -value the first whiff he got. He had a rough map of Glaubus with the Skunk -Swamp off about a mile to the west. -</p> -<p> -We patched up the deal the next day. The young fellow was to have a -quarter-interest, because he put in the forty acres, and Perkins put in -his time and talent for half the balance; and I got the remainder for my -time and money. We wanted the young fellow to take a third interest, and -put in his time, too; but he said that rather than go back to the old -place, he would take a smaller share, and get a job in some nice sweet -spot, like the stock-yards or a fertilizer factory. So Perkins and I -packed up, and went out to Glaubus. -</p> -<p> -When we got within two miles of Glaubus, Perkins stuck his head out of the -car window, and drew it back, covered with smiles. -</p> -<p> -“Smell it?” he asked. “Great! You can smell it way out here! Wait till we -get on the ground! It must be wonderful!” - </p> -<p> -I did not wonder, when the train pulled up at the Glaubus Station, that -the place was a small, dilapidated village, nor that the inhabitants wore -a care-worn, hopeless expression. There was too much Onoto-watishika water -in the air. But Perkins glowed with joy. -</p> -<p> -“Smell it?” he asked eagerly. “Great 'ad.!' You can't get away from it. -You can't forget it. And look at this town. Look at the bare walls! Not a -sign on any of them! Not a bill-board in the place! Not an 'ad.' of any -kind in sight! Perkins, my boy, this is heaven for you! This is pie and -nuts!” - </p> -<p> -I must confess that I was not so joyous over the prospect. I began to tire -of Ono-towatishika water already. I suggested to Perkins that we ought to -have an agency in Chicago, and hinted that I knew all about running -agencies properly; but he said I would get used to the odor presently, and -in time come to love it and long for it when I was away from it. I told -him that doubtless he was right, but that I thought it would do me good to -go away before my love got too violent. But Perkins never could see a -joke, and it was wasted on him. He walked me right out to the swamp, and -stood there an hour just watching the water bubble up. It seemed to do him -good. -</p> -<p> -There was no shanty in the village good enough for our office, so that -afternoon we bought a vacant lot next to the post-office for five dollars, -and arranged to have a building put up for our use; and then, as there was -nothing else for us to do, until the next train came along, Perkins sat -around thinking. And something always happened when Perkins thought. -</p> -<p> -In less than an hour Perkins set off to find the mayor and the councilmen -and a notary public. He had a great idea. -</p> -<p> -They had a park in Glaubus,—a full block of weeds and rank growth,—and -Perkins showed the mayor what a disgrace that park was to a town of the -size and beauty of Glaubus. He said there ought to be a fountain and walks -and benches where people could sit in the evenings. The mayor allowed that -was so, but didn't see where the cash was to come from. -</p> -<p> -Perkins told him. Here we are, he said, two public-spirited men come over -from Chicago to bottle up the old skunk spring, and make Glaubus famous. -Glaubus was to be our home, and already we had contracted for a beautiful -one-story building, with a dashboard front, to make it look like two -stories. If Glaubus treated us right, we would treat Glaubus right. Didn't -the mayor want to help along his city? -</p> -<p> -The mayor certainly did, if he didn't have to pay out nothin'. -</p> -<p> -All right, then, Perkins said, there was that old Skunk Swamp. We were -going to bottle up a lot of the water that came out of the spring and ship -it away; and that would help to clean the air, for the less water, the -less smell. All Perkins wanted was to have those forty acres of swamp that -we owned plotted as town lots, and taken in as the Glaubus Land and -Improvement Company's Addition to the town of Glaubus. It would cost the -village nothing; and, as fast as Perkins got rid of the lots, the village -could assess taxes on them, and the taxes would pay for the park. -</p> -<p> -The mayor and the council didn't see but what that was a square deal, so -they called a special meeting right there; and in half an hour we had the -whole thing under way. -</p> -<p> -“But, Perky,” I said, when we were on the train hurrying back to Chicago, -“how are you going to sell those lots? They are nothing but mud and water, -and no sane man would even think of paying money for them. Why, if the lot -next the post-office is worth five dollars, those lots a mile away from -it, and ten feet deep in mud, wouldn't be worth two copper cents.” - </p> -<p> -“Sell?” said Perkins, sticking his hands deep into the pockets of his -celebrated “Baffin Bay” pants. “Sell? Who wants to sell? We'll give 'em -away! What does the public want? Something for nothing! What does it -covet? Real estate! All right, we give 'em real estate for nothing! A lot -in the Glaubus Land and Improvement Company's Addition to the town of -Glaubus free for ten labels soaked from O-no-to-thing-um-bob water -bottles. Send in your labels, and get a real deed for the lot, with a red -seal on it. And Perkins pays the freight!” - </p> -<p> -Did it go? Does anything that Perkins the Great puts his soul into go? It -went with a rush. We looked up the rheumatism statistics of the United -States, and, wherever there was a rheumatism district, we billed the barns -and fences. We sent circulars and “follow-up” letters, and advertised in -local and county papers. We shipped the water by single demijohns at -first, and then in half-dozen crates, and then in car-lots. We established -depots in the big business centres, and took up magazine advertising on a -big scale. Wherever man met man, the catchwords, “Perkins pays the -freight,” were bandied to and fro. “How can you afford a new hat?” “Oh, -'Perkins pays the freight'!” - </p> -<p> -The comic papers made jokes about it, the daily papers made cartoons about -it, no vaudeville sketch was complete without a reference to Perkins -paying the freight, and the comic opera hit of the year was the one in -which six jolly girls clinked champagne glasses while singing the song -ending: -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“To us no pleasure lost is, -And we go a merry gait; -We don't care what the cost is, -For Perkins pays the freight.” - </pre> -<p> -As for testimonials, we scooped in twenty-four members of Congress, eight -famous operatic stars, eighty-eight ministers, and dead loads of others. -</p> -<p> -And our lots in the Glaubus Land and Improvement Company's Addition to the -town of Glaubus? We began by giving full-sized dwelling-house lots. Then -we cut it down to business-lot size; and, as the labels kept pouring in, -we reduced the lots to cemetery lot size. We had lot owners in Alaska, -Mexico, and the Philippines; and the village of Glaubus fixed up its park, -and even paved the main street with taxes. Whenever a lot owner refused to -pay his taxes, the deed was cancelled; and we split the lot up into -smaller lots, and distributed them to new label savers. -</p> -<p> -We also sent agents to organize Rheumatism Clubs in the large cities. That -was Perkins's greatest idea, but it was too great. -</p> -<p> -One morning as Perkins was opening the mail, he paused with a letter open -before him, and let his jaw drop. I walked over and laid my hand on his -shoulder. -</p> -<p> -“What is it, Perky?” I asked. -</p> -<p> -He lay back in his chair, and gazed at me blankly. Then he spoke. -</p> -<p> -“The lame and the halt,” he murmured. “They are coming. They are coming -here. Read it?” - </p> -<p> -He pushed the letter toward me feebly. It was from the corresponding -secretary of the Grand Rapids Rheumatic Club. It said: -</p> -<p> -“Gentlemen:—The members of the club have used Onotowatishika water -for over a year, and are delighted to testify to its merits. In fact, we -have used so much that each member now owns several lots in the Glaubus -Land and Improvement Company's Addition to the town of Glaubus; and, -feeling that our health depends on the constant and unremitting use of -your healing waters, we have decided as a whole to emigrate to Glaubus, -where we may be near the source of the waters, and secure them as they -arise bubbling from the bosom of Mother Earth. We have withheld this -pleasant knowledge from you until we had completed our arrangements for -deserting Grand Rapids, in order that the news might come to you as a -grateful surprise. We have read in your circulars of the beautiful and -natural advantages of Glaubus, and particularly of the charm of the -Glaubus Land and Improvement Company's Addition to the town of Glaubus, -and we will come prepared to rear homes on the land which has been -allotted to us. We leave to-day.” - </p> -<p> -I looked at Perkins. He had wilted. -</p> -<p> -“Perky,” I said, “cheer up. It's nothing to be sad about. But I feel that -I have been overworking. I'm going to take a vacation. I'm going to -Chicago, and I'm going to-day; but you can stay and reap the reward of -their gratitude. I am only a secondary person. You are their benefactor.” - </p> -<p> -Perkins didn't take my remarks in the spirit in which they were meant. He -jumped up and slammed his desk-lid, and locked it, banged the door of the -safe, and, grabbing his Pratt hat, crushed it on his head. He gave one -quick glance around the office, another at the clock, and bolted for the -door. I saw that he was right. The train was due in two minutes; and it -was the train from Chicago on which the Grand Rapids Rheumatic Club would -arrive. -</p> -<p> -When we reached the station, the train was just pulling in; and, as we -jumped aboard, the Grand Rapids delegation disembarked. Some had crutches -and some had canes, some limped and some did not seem to be disabled. In -fact, a good many seemed to be odiously able-bodied; and there was one who -looked like a retired coal-heaver. -</p> -<p> -It was beautiful to see them sniffing the air as they stepped from the -train. They were like a lot of children on the morning of circus day. -</p> -<p> -They gathered on the station platform, and gave their club yell; and then -one enthusiastic old gentleman jumped upon a box and shouted:— -</p> -<p> -“What's the matter with Perkins?” - </p> -<p> -The club, by their loudly unanimous reply, signified that Perkins was all -right But as I looked in the face of Perkins the Great, I felt that I -could have given a more correct answer. I knew what was the matter with -Perkins. He wanted to get away from the vulgar throng. He wanted that -train to pull out And it did. -</p> -<p> -As we passed out of the town limits, we heard the Grand Rapids Rheumatic -Club proclaiming in unison that Perkins was— -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“First in peace! First in war! First in the hearts of his countrymen!” - </pre> -<p> -But that was before they visited their real estate holdings. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -IV. THE ADVENTURE OF THE FIFTH STREET CHURCH -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>FTER that Glaubus affair, I did not see Perkins for nearly a year. He was -spending his money somewhere, but I knew he would turn up when it was -gone; and one day he entered my office hard up, but enthusiastic. -</p> -<p> -“Ah,” I said, as soon as I saw the glow in his eyes, “you have another -good thing? Am I in it?” - </p> -<p> -“In it?” he cried. “Of course, you're in it! Does Perkins of Portland ever -forget his friend? Never! Sooner will the public forget that 'Pratt's Hats -Air the Hair,' as made immortal by Perkins the Great! Sooner will the -world forget that 'Dill's Pills Cure All Ills,' as taught by Perkins!” - </p> -<p> -“Is it a very good thing, this time?” I asked. -</p> -<p> -“Good thing?” he asked. “Say! Is the soul a good thing? Is a man's right -hand a good thing? You know it! Well, then, Perkins has fathomed the soul -of the great U. S. A. He has studied the American man. He has watched the -American woman. He has discovered the mighty lever that heaves this -glorious nation onward in its triumphant course.” - </p> -<p> -“I know,” I said, “you are going to start a correspondence school of some -sort.” - </p> -<p> -Perkins sniffed contemptuously. -</p> -<p> -“Wait!” he cried imperiously. -</p> -<p> -“See the old world crumbling to decay! See the U. S. A. flying to the -front in a gold-painted horseless band-wagon! Why does America triumph? -What is the cause and symbol of her success? What is mightier than the -sword, than the pen, than the Gatling gun? What is it that is in every -hand in America; that opens the good things of the world for rich and -poor, for young and old, for one and all?” - </p> -<p> -“The ballot-box?” I ventured. -</p> -<p> -Perkins took something from his trousers pocket, and waved it in the air. -I saw it glitter in the sunlight before he threw it on my desk. I picked -it up and examined it. Then I looked at Perkins. -</p> -<p> -“Perkins,” I said, “this is a can-opener.” He stood with folded arms, and -nodded his head slowly. -</p> -<p> -“Can-opener, yes!” he said. “Wealth-opener; progress-opener!” He put one -hand behind his ear, and glanced at the ceiling. “Listen!” he said. “What -do you hear? From Portland, Maine, to Portland, Oregon; from the palms of -Florida to the pines of Alaska—cans! Tin cans! Tin cans being -opened!” - </p> -<p> -He looked down at me, and smiled. -</p> -<p> -“The back-yards of Massachusetts are full of old tin cans,” he exclaimed. -“The gar-bage-wagons of New York are crowned with old tin cans. The plains -of Texas are dotted with old tin cans. The towns and cities of America are -full of stores, and the stores are full of cans. The tin can rules -America! Take away the tin can, and America sinks to the level of Europe! -Why has not Europe sunk clear out of sight? Because America sends canned -stuff to their hungry hordes!” He leaned forward, and, taking the -can-opener from my hand, stood it upright against my inkstand. Then he -stood back and waved his hand at it. -</p> -<p> -“Behold!” he cried. “The emblem of American genius!” - </p> -<p> -“Well,” I said, “what are you going to sell, cans or can-openers?” - </p> -<p> -He leaned over me and whispered. -</p> -<p> -“Neither, my boy. We are going to give can-openers away, free gratis!” - </p> -<p> -“They ought to go well at that price,” I suggested. -</p> -<p> -“One nickel-plated Perkins Can-opener free with every can of our goods. At -all grocers,” said Perkins, ignoring my remark. -</p> -<p> -“Well, then,” I said, for I caught his idea, “what are we going to put in -the cans?” - </p> -<p> -“What do people put in cans now?” asked Perkins. -</p> -<p> -I thought for a moment. -</p> -<p> -“Oh!” I said, “tomatoes and peaches and com, sardines, and salmon, and—” - </p> -<p> -“Yes!” Perkins broke in, “and codfish, and cod-liver oil, and kerosene -oil, and cottonseed-oil, and axle-grease and pie! Everything! But what -don't they put in cans?” - </p> -<p> -I couldn't think of a thing. I told Perkins so. He smiled and made a large -circle in the air with his right forefinger. -</p> -<p> -“Cheese!” he said. “Did you ever see a canned cheese?” - </p> -<p> -I tried to remember that I had, but I couldn't. I remembered potted -cheese, in nice little stone pots, and in pretty little glass pots. -</p> -<p> -Perkins sneered. -</p> -<p> -“Yes,” he said, “and how did you open it?” - </p> -<p> -“The lids unscrewed,” I said. -</p> -<p> -Perkins waved away the little stone and the little glass pots. -</p> -<p> -“No good!” he cried. “They don't appeal to the great American person. I -see,” he said, screwing up one eye—“I see the great American person. -It has a nickel-plated, patent Perkins Can-opener in its hand. It goes -into its grocer shop. It asks for cheese. The grocer shows it plain cheese -by the slice. No, sir! He shows it potted cheese. No, sir! What the great -American person wants is cheese that has to be opened with a can-opener. -Good cheese, in patent, germ-proof, air-tight, water-tight, skipper-tight -cans, with a label in eight colors. Full cream, full weight, full cans; -picture of a nice clean cow and red-cheeked dairymaid in short skirts on -front of the label, and eight recipes for Welsh rabbits on the back.” He -paused to let this soak into me, and then continued: -</p> -<p> -“Individual cheese! Why make cheese the size of a dish-pan? Because -grandpa did? Why not make them small? Perkins's Reliable Full Cream -Cheese, just the right size for family use, twenty-five cents a can, with -a nickel-plated Perkins Can-opener, free with each can. At all grocers.” - </p> -<p> -That was the beginning of the Fifth Street Church, as you shall see. -</p> -<p> -We bought a tract of land well outside of Chicago, and, to make it sound -well on our labels, we named it Cloverdale. This was Perkins's idea. He -wanted a name that would harmonize with the clean cow and the rosy -milkmaid on our label. -</p> -<p> -We owned our own cows, and built our own dairy and cheese factory, and -made first-class cheese. As each cheese was just the right size to fit in -a can, and as the rind would protect the cheese, anyway, it was not -important to have very durable cans, so we used a can that was all -cardboard, except the top and bottom. Perkins insisted on having the top -and bottom of tin, so that the purchaser could have something to open with -a can-opener; and he was right. It appealed to the public. -</p> -<p> -The Perkins cheese made a hit, or at least the Perkins advertising matter -did. We boomed it by all the legitimate means, in magazines, newspapers, -and street-cars, and on bill-boards and kites; and we got out a very small -individual can for restaurant and hotel use. It got to be the fashion to -have the waiter bring in a can of Perkins's cheese, and show the diner -that it had not been tampered with, and then open it in the diner's sight. -</p> -<p> -We ran our sales up to six hundred thousand cases the first year, and -equalled that in the first quarter of the next year; and then the cheese -trust came along, and bought us out for a cool eight-hundred thousand, and -all they wanted was the good-will and trade-mark. They had a factory in -Wisconsin that could make the cheese more economically. So we were left -with the Cloverdale land on our hands, and Perkins decided to make a -suburb of it. -</p> -<p> -Perkins's idea was to make Cloverdale a refined and aristocratic suburb; -something high-toned and exclusive, with Queen Anne villas, and no fences; -and he was particularly strong on having an ennobling religious atmosphere -about it. He said an ennobling religious atmosphere was the best kind of a -card to draw to—that the worse a man was, the more anxious he was to -get his wife and children settled in the neighborhood of an ennobling -religious atmosphere. -</p> -<p> -So we had a map of Cloverdale drawn, with wide streets running one way and -wide avenues crossing the streets at right angles, and our old cheese -factory in a big square in the centre of the town. It was a beautiful map, -but Perkins said it lacked the ennobling religious atmosphere; so the -first thing he did was to mark in a few churches. He began at the lower -left-hand corner, and marked in a church at the corner of First Street and -First Avenue, and put another at the corner of Second Street and Second -Avenue, and so on right up on the map. This made a beautiful diagonal row -of churches from the upper right-hand corner to the lower left-hand corner -of the map, and did not miss a street. Perkins pointed out the advertising -value of the arrangement: -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“Cloverdale, the Ideal Home Site. -A Church on Every Street. -Ennobling Religious Atmosphere. -Lots on Easy Payments.” - </pre> -<p> -The old cheese factory was to be the Cloverdale Club-house, and we set to -work at once to remodel it. We had the stalls knocked out of the cow-shed, -and made it into a bowling-alley, and added a few cupolas and verandas to -the factory, and had the latest styles of wall-paper put on the walls, and -in a few days we had a first-class club-house. -</p> -<p> -But we did not stop there. Perkins was bound that Cloverdale should be -first-class in every respect, and it was a pleasure to see him marking in -public institutions. Every few minutes he would think of a new one and jot -it down on the map; and every time he jotted down an opera-house, or a -school-house, or a public library, he would raise the price of the lots, -until we had the place so exclusive, I began to fear I couldn't afford to -live there. Then he put in a street-car line and a water and gas system, -and quit; for he had the map so full of things that he could not put in -another one without making it look mussy. -</p> -<p> -One thing Perkins insisted on was that there should be no factories. He -said it would be a little paradise right in Cook County. He liked the -phrase, “Paradise within Twenty Minutes of the Chicago Post-office,” so -well that he raised the price of the lots another ten dollars all around. -</p> -<p> -Then we began to advertise. We did not wait to build the churches nor the -school-house, nor any of the public institutions. We did not even wait to -have the streets surveyed. What was the use of having twenty or thirty -streets and avenues paved when the only inhabitants were Perkins and I and -the old lady who took care of the Club-house? Why should we rush ourselves -to death to build a school-house when the only person in Cloverdale with -children was the said old lady? And she had only one child, and he was -forty-eight years old, and in the Philippines. -</p> -<p> -We began to push Cloverdale hard. There wasn't an advertising scheme that -Perkins did not know, and he used them all. People would open their -morning mail, and a circular would tell them that Cloverdale had an -ennobling religious atmosphere. Their morning paper thrust a view of the -Cloverdale Club-house on them. As they rode down-town in the street-cars, -they read that Cloverdale was refined and exclusive. The bill-boards -announced that Cloverdale lots were sold on the easy payment plan. The -magazines asked them why they paid rent when Cloverdale land was to be had -for little more than the asking. Round-trip tickets from Chicago to -Cloverdale were furnished any one who wanted to look at the lots. -Occasionally, we had a free open-air vaudeville entertainment. -</p> -<p> -Our advertising campaign made a big hit. There were a few visitors who -kicked because we did not serve beer with the free lunches we gave, but -Perkins was unyielding on that point. Cloverdale was to be a temperance -town, and he held that it would be inconsistent to give free beer. But the -trump card was our guarantee that the lots would advance twenty per cent, -within twelve months. We could do that well enough, for we made the price -ourselves; but it made a fine impression, and the lots began to sell like -hot cakes. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/080.jpg" alt="80" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -There were ten streets in Cloverdale (on paper) and ten avenues (also on -paper); and Perkins used to walk up and down them (not on the paper, but -between the stakes that showed their future location), and admire the town -of Cloverdale as it was to be. He would stand in front of the plot of -weeds that was the site of the opera-house, and get all enrapt and -enthusiastic just thinking how fine that opera-house would be some day; -and then he would imagine he was on our street-car line going down to the -library. But the thing Perkins liked best was to go to church. Whenever he -passed one of the corner lots that we had set aside for a church, he would -take off his hat and look sober, as a man ought when he has suddenly run -into an ennobling religious atmosphere. -</p> -<p> -One day a man came out from Chicago, and, after looking over our ground, -told us he wanted to take ten lots; but none suited him but the ten facing -on First Avenue at the corner of First Street. Perkins tried to argue him -into taking some other lots, but he wouldn't. Perkins and I talked it -over, and, as the man wanted to build ten houses, we decided to sell him -the lots. -</p> -<p> -We thought a town ought to have a few houses, and so far Cloverdale had -nothing but the Club-house. As we had previously sold all the other lots -on First Street, we had no place on that street to put the First Street -Church, so Perkins rubbed it off the map, and marked it at the corner of -First Avenue and Fifth Street. -</p> -<p> -The next day a man came down who wanted a site for a grocery. We were glad -to see him, for every first-class town ought to have a grocery; but -Perkins balked when he insisted on having the lot at the corner of Sixth -Avenue and Sixth Street that we had set aside for the First Methodist -Church. Perkins said he would never feel quite himself again if he had to -think that he had been taking off his hat to a grocery every time he -passed that lot. It would lower his self-respect. I was afraid we were -going to lose the grocer to save Perkins's self-respect. Then we saw we -could move the church to the corner of Sixth Avenue and Fifth Street. -</p> -<p> -When we once got those churches on the move, there seemed to be no -stopping. We doubled the price, but still people wanted those lots, and in -the end they got them; and as soon as we sold out a church lot, we moved -the church up to Fifth Street, and in a bit Perkins got enthusiastic over -the idea, and moved the rest of the churches there on his own accord. He -said it would be a great “ad.”—a street of churches; and it would -concentrate the ennobling religious atmosphere, and make it more powerful. -</p> -<p> -All this time the lots continued to sell beyond our expectations; and by -the end of the year we had advanced the price of lots one hundred per -cent., and were considering another advance. We did not think it fair to -the sweltering Chicago public to advance the price without giving it a -chance to get the advantage of our fresh air and pure water at the old -price, so we told them of the contemplated rise. We let them know it by -means of bill-boards and newspapers and circular letters and magazines; -and a great many people gladly availed themselves of our thoughtfulness -and our guarantee that we would advance the price twenty-per cent, on the -first day of June. -</p> -<p> -So many, in fact, bought lots before the advance that we had none left to -advance. Perkins came to me one morning, with tears in his eyes, and -explained that we had made a promise, and could not keep it. We had agreed -to advance the lots twenty per cent., and we had nothing to advance. -</p> -<p> -“Well, Perky,” I said, “it is no use crying. What is done is done. Are you -sure there are no lots left?” - </p> -<p> -“William,” he said, seriously, “we think a great deal of these churches, -don't we?” - </p> -<p> -“Yes!” I exclaimed. “We do! We think an ennobling religious atmosphere—” - But he cut me short. -</p> -<p> -“William,” he said, “do you know what we are doing? We talk about our -ennobling religious atmosphere, but we are standing in the path of -progress. A mighty wave of reform is sweeping through Christendom. The new -religious atmosphere is sweeping out the old religious atmosphere. I can -feel it. Brotherly love is knocking out the sects. Shall Cloverdale cling -to the old, or shall it stand as the leader in the movement for a reunited -Church?” - </p> -<p> -I clasped Perkins's hand. -</p> -<p> -“A tabernacle!” I cried. -</p> -<p> -“Right!” exclaimed Perkins. “Why ten conflicting churches? Why not one -grand meeting-place—all faiths—no creeds! Bring the people -closer together—spread an ennobling religious atmosphere that is -worth talking about!” - </p> -<p> -“Perkins,” I said, “what you have done for religion will not be -forgotten.” - </p> -<p> -He waved my praise away airily. -</p> -<p> -“I have buyers,” he said, “for the nine church lots at the advanced -price.” Considering that the land practically cost us nothing, we made one -hundred and six thousand dollars on the Cloverdale deal. Perkins and I -were out that way lately; and there is still nothing on the land but the -Club-house, which needs paint and new glass in the windows. When we -reached the Fifth Street Church, we paused, and Perkins took off his hat. -It was a noble instinct, for here was one church that never quarrelled -with its pastor, to which all creeds were welcome, and that had no -mortgage. -</p> -<p> -“Some of these days,” said Perkins, “we will build the tabernacle. We will -come out and carry on our great work of uniting the sects. We will build a -city here, surrounded by an ennobling religious atmosphere—a -refined, exclusive city. The time is almost ripe. By the time these -lot-holders pay another tax assessment, they will be sick enough. We can -get the lots for almost nothing.” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -V. THE ADVENTURE IN AUTOMOBILES -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">P</span>ERKINS and I sat on the veranda of one of the little road-houses on -Jerome Avenue, and watched the auto-mobiles go by. There were many -automobiles, of all sorts and colors, going at various speeds and in -divers manners. It was a thrilling sight—the long rows of swiftly -moving auto-vehicles running as smoothly as lines of verse, all neatly -punctuated here and there by an automobile at rest in the middle of the -road, like a period bringing the line to a full stop. And some, drawn to -the edge of the road, stood like commas. There were others, too, that went -snapping by with a noise like a bunch of exclamation-points going off in a -keg. And not a few left a sulphurous, acrid odor, like the after-taste of -a ripping Kipling ballad. I called Perkins's attention to this poetical -aspect of the thing, but he did not care for it. He seemed sad. The sight -of the automobiles aroused an unhappy train of thought in his mind. -</p> -<p> -Perkins is the advertising man. Advertising is not his specialty. It is -his life; it is his science. That is why he is known from Portland, Me., -to Portland, Oreg., as Perkins the Great. There is but one Perkins. A -single century could never produce two such as he. The job would be too -big. -</p> -<p> -“Perky,” I said, “you look sad.” - </p> -<p> -He waved his hand toward the procession of horseless vehicles, and nodded. -</p> -<p> -“Sad!” he ejaculated. “Yes! Look at them. You are looking at them. -Everybody looks at them. Wherever you go you see them—hear them—smell -them. On every road, in every town—everywhere—nothing but -automobiles; nothing but people looking at them—all eyes on them. -I'm sad!” - </p> -<p> -“They are beautiful,” I ventured, “and useful.” - </p> -<p> -Perkins shook his head. -</p> -<p> -“Useless! Wasted! Thrown away! Look at them again. What do you see?” He -stretched out his hand toward the avenue. I knew Perkins wanted me to see -something I could not see, so I looked long enough to be quite sure I -could not see it; and then I said, quite positively,— -</p> -<p> -“I see automobiles—dozens of them.” - </p> -<p> -“Ah!” Perkins cried with triumph. “You see automobiles! You see dozens of -them! But you don't see an ad.—not a single ad. You see dozens of -moving things on wheels that people twist their necks to stare at. You see -things that men, women, and children stand and gaze upon, and not an -advertisement on any of them! Talk about wasted opportunity! Talk about -good money thrown away! Just suppose every one of those automobiles -carried a placard with 'Use Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster,' upon it! -Every man, woman, and child in New York would know of Perkins's Patent -Porous Plaster by this evening! It would be worth a million cold dollars! -Sad? Yes! There goes a million dollars wasted, thrown away, out of reach!” - </p> -<p> -“Perkins,” I said, “you are right. It would be the greatest advertising -opportunity of the age, but it can't be done. Advertising space on those -automobiles is not for sale.” - </p> -<p> -“No,” he admitted, “it's not. That's why Perkins hates the auto. It gives -him no show. It is a fizzle, a twentieth-century abomination—an -invention with no room for an ad. I'm tired. Let's go home.” - </p> -<p> -We settled our small account with the waiter, and descended to the avenue, -just as a large and violent automobile came to a full stop before us. -There was evidently something wrong with the inwardness of that -automobile; for the chauffeur began pulling and pushing levers, opening -little cubby-holes, and poking into them, turning valves and cocks, and -pressing buttons and things. But he did not find the soft spot. -</p> -<p> -I saw that Perkins smiled gleefully as the chauffeur did things to the -automobile. It pleased Perkins to see automobiles break down. He had no -use for them. They gave him no opportunity to display his talents. He -considered them mere interloping monstrosities. As we started homeward, -the chauffeur was on his back in the road, with his head and arms under -his automobile, working hard, and swearing softly. -</p> -<p> -I did not see Perkins again for about four months, and when I did see him, -I tried to avoid him; for I was seated in my automobile, which I had just -purchased. I feared that Perkins might think my purchase was disloyal to -him, knowing, as I did, his dislike for automobiles; but he hailed me with -a cheery cry. -</p> -<p> -“Ah!” he exclaimed. “The automobile! The greatest product of man's -ingenious brain! The mechanical triumph of the twentieth century! Useful, -ornamental, profitable!” - </p> -<p> -“Perky!” I cried, for I could scarcely believe my ears. “Is it possible? -Have you so soon changed your idea of the auto? That isn't like you, -Perky!” - </p> -<p> -He caught his thumbs in the armholes of his vest, and waved his fingers -slowly back and forth. “My boy,” he said, “Perkins of Portland conquers -all things! Else why is he known as Perkins the Great? Genius, my boy, -wins out. Before genius the automobile bows down like the camel, and takes -aboard the advertisement. Perkins has conquered the automobile!” - </p> -<p> -I looked over my auto carefully. I had no desire to be a travelling -advertisement even to please my friend Perkins. But I could notice nothing -in the promotion and publicity line about my automobile. I held out my -hand. “Perkins,” I said heartily, “I congratulate you. Is there money in -it?” He glowed with pleasure. “Money?” he cried. “Loads of it. Thousands -for Perkins—thousands for the automobile-makers—huge boom for -the advertiser! Perkins put it to the auto-makers like this: 'You make -automobiles. All right. I'll pay you for space on them. Just want room for -four words, but must be on every automobile sent out. Perkins will pay -well.' Result—contract with every maker. Then to the advertiser: -'Mr. Advertiser, I have space on every automobile to be made by leading -American factories for next five years. Price, $100,000!' Advertiser -jumped at it! And there you are!” - </p> -<p> -I do not know whether Perkins meant his last sentence as a finale to his -explanation or as a scoff at my automobile. In either case I was certainly -“there,” for my auto took one of those unaccountable fits, and would not -move. I dismounted and walked around the machine with a critical, -inquiring eye. I poked gingerly into its ribs and exposed vitals; lifted -up lids; turned thumb-screws, and shook everything that looked as if its -working qualities would be improved by a little shaking, but my automobile -continued to balk. -</p> -<p> -A few small boys suggested that I try coaxing it with a lump of sugar or -building a fire under it, or some of the other remedies for balking -animals; but Perkins stood by with his hands in his pockets and smiled. He -seemed to be expecting something. -</p> -<p> -I am not proud, and I have but little fear of ridicule, but a man is only -human. Fifth Avenue is not exactly the place where a man wishes to lie on -the fiat of his back. To be explicit, I may say that when I want to lie on -my back in the open air, I prefer to lie on a grassy hillside, with -nothing above me but the blue sky, rather than on the asphalt pavement of -Fifth Avenue, with the engine-room of an automobile half a foot above my -face. -</p> -<p> -Perkins smiled encouragingly. The crowd seemed to be waiting for me to do -it. I felt, myself, that I should have to do it. So I assumed the busy, -intense, oblivious, hardened expression that is part of the game, and lay -down on the top of the street. Personally, I did not feel that I was doing -it as gracefully as I might after more practice; but the crowd were not -exacting. They even cheered me, which was kind of them; but it did not -relieve me of the idiotic sensation of going to bed in public with my -clothes on. -</p> -<p> -If I had not been such an amateur I should doubtless have done it better; -but it was disconcerting, after getting safely on my back, to find that I -was several feet away from my automobile. I think it was then that I -swore, but I am not sure. I know I swore about that time; but whether it -was just then, or while edging over to the automobile, I cannot positively -say. -</p> -<p> -I remember making up my mind to swear again as soon as I got my head and -chest under the automobile, not because I am a swearing man, but to -impress the crowd with the fact that I was not there because I liked it. I -wanted them to think I detested it. I did detest it. But I did not swear. -As my eyes looked upward for the first time at the underneath of my -automobile, I saw this legend painted upon it: “Don't swear. Drink -Glenguzzle.” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/096.jpg" alt="96" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -Peering out from under my automobile, I caught Perkins's eye. It was -bright and triumphant. I looked about and across the avenue I saw another -automobile standing. -</p> -<p> -As I look back, I think the crowd may have been justified in thinking me -insane. At any rate, they crossed the avenue with me, and applauded me -when I lay down under the other man's automobile. When I emerged, they -called my attention to several other automobiles that were standing near, -and were really disappointed when I refused to lie down under them. -</p> -<p> -I did refuse, however, for I had seen enough. -</p> -<p> -This automobile also bore on its underside the words: “Don't swear. Drink -Glenguzzle.” And I was willing to believe that they were on all the -automobiles. -</p> -<p> -I walked across the avenue again and shook hands with Perkins. “It's -great!” I said, enthusiastically. -</p> -<p> -Perkins nodded. He knew what I meant. He knew I appreciated his genius. In -my mind's eye I saw thousands and thousands of automobiles, in all parts -of our great land, and all of them standing patiently while men lay on -their backs under them, looking upward and wanting to swear. It was a -glorious vision. I squeezed Perkins's hand. -</p> -<p> -“It's glorious!” I exclaimed. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -VI. THE ADVENTURE OF THE POET -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>BOUT the time Perkins and I were booming our justly famous Codliver -Capsules,—you know them, of course, “sales, ten million boxes a -year,”—I met Kate. She was sweet and pink as the Codliver Capsules. -You recall the verse that went:— -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“'Pretty Polly, do you think, -Blue is prettier, or pink?' -'Pink, sir,' Polly said, 'by far; -Thus Codliver Capsules are.'” - </pre> -<p> -You see, we put them up in pink capsules. -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“The pink capsules for the pale corpuscles.” - </pre> -<p> -Perkins invented the phrase. It was worth forty thousand dollars to us. -Wonderful man, Perkins! -</p> -<p> -But, as I remarked, Kate was as sweet and pink as Codliver Capsules; but -she was harder to take. So hard, in fact, that I couldn't seem to take -her; and the one thing I wanted most was to take her—away from her -home and install her in one of my own. I seemed destined to come in second -in a race where there were only two starters, and in love-affairs you -might as well be distanced as second place. The fellow who had the -preferred location next pure reading-matter in Kate's heart was a poet. -</p> -<p> -In any ordinary business I will back an advertising man against a poet -every time, but this love proposition is a case of guess at results. You -can't key your ad. nor guarantee your circulation one day ahead; and, just -as likely as not, some low-grade mailorder dude will step in, and take the -contract away from a million-a-month home journal with a three-color -cover. There I was, a man associated with Perkins the Great, with a poet -of our own on our staff, cut out by a poet, and a Chicago poet at that. -You can guess how high-grade he was. -</p> -<p> -The more I worked my follow-up system of bonbons and flowers, the less -chance I seemed to have with Kate; and the reason was that she was a -poetry fiend. You know the sort of girl. First thing she does when she -meets you is to smile and say: “So glad to meet you. Who's your favorite -poet?” - </p> -<p> -She pretty nearly stumped me when she got that off on me. I don't know a -poem from a hymn-tune. I'm not a literary character. If you hand me -anything with all the lines jagged on one end and headed with capital -letters on the other end, I'll take it for as good as anything in the -verse line that Longfellow ever wrote. So when she asked me the -countersign, “Who's your favorite poet?” I gasped, and then, by a lucky -chance, I got my senses back in time to say “Biggs” before she dropped me. -</p> -<p> -When I said Biggs, she looked dazed. I had run in a poet she had never -heard of, and she thought I was the real thing in poetry lore. I never -told her that Biggs was the young man we had at the office doing poems -about the Codliver Capsules, but I couldn't live up to my start; and, -whenever she started on the poetry topic, I side-stepped to advertising -talk. I was at home there, but you can't get in as much soulful gaze when -you are talking about how good the ads. in the “Home Weekly” are as when -you are reciting sonnets; so the poet walked away from me. 'I got Kate to -the point where, when I handed her a new magazine, she would look through -the advertising pages first; but she did not seem to enthuse over the -Codliver Capsule pages any more than over the Ivory Soap pages, and I knew -her heart was not mine. -</p> -<p> -When I began to get thin, Perkins noticed it,—he always noticed -everything,—and I laid the whole case before him. He smiled -disdainfully. He laid his hand on my arm and spoke. -</p> -<p> -“Why mourn?” he asked. “Why mope? Why fear a poet? Fight fire with fire; -fight poetry with poetry! Why knuckle down to a little amateur poet when -Perkins & Co. have a professional poet working six days a week? Use -Biggs.” - </p> -<p> -He said “Use Biggs” just as he would have said “Use Codliver Capsules.” It -was Perkins's way to go right to the heart of things without wasting -words. He talked in telegrams. He talked in caps, double leaded. I grasped -his hand, for I saw his meaning. I was saved—or at least Kate was -nailed. The expression is Perkins's. -</p> -<p> -“Kate—hate, Kate—wait, Kate—mate,” he said, glowingly. -“Good rhymes. Biggs can do the rest. We will nail Kate with poems. Biggs,” - he said, turning to our poet, “make some nails.” - </p> -<p> -Biggs was a serious-minded youth, with a large, bulgy forehead in front, -and a large bald spot at the back of his head, which seemed to be yearning -to join the forehead. He was the most conceited donkey I ever knew, but he -did good poetry. I can't say that he ever did anything as noble as,— -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster -Makes all pains and aches fly faster,” - </pre> -<p> -but that was written by the immortal Perkins himself. It was Biggs who -wrote the charming verse,— -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“When corpuscles are thin and white, -Codliver Capsules set them right,” - and that other great hit,— - -“When appetite begins to fail -And petty woes unnerve us, -When joy is fled and life is stale, -The Pink Capsules preserve us. - -“When doubts and cares distress the mind -And daily duties bore us, -At fifty cents per box we find -The Pink Capsules restore us.” - </pre> -<p> -You can see that an amateur poet who wrote such rot as the following to -Kate would not be in the same class whatever:— -</p> -<h3> -TO KATE -</h3> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“Your lips are like cherries -All sprinkled with dew; -Your eyes are like diamonds, -Sparkling and true. - -“Your teeth are like pearls in -A casket of roses, -And nature has found you -The dearest of noses.” - </pre> -<p> -I had Kate copy that for me, and I gave it to Biggs to let him see what he -would have to beat. He looked at it and smiled. He flipped over the pages -of “Munton's Magazine,” dipped his pen in the ink, and in two minutes -handed me this:— -</p> -<h3> -TO KATE -</h3> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“Your lips are like -Lowney's Bonbons, they're so sweet; -Your eyes shine like pans -That Pearline has made neat. - -“Your teeth are like Ivory Soap, they're so white, -And your nose, like Pink Capsules, -Is simply all right!” - </pre> -<p> -I showed it to Perkins, and asked him how he thought it would do. He read -it over and shook his head. -</p> -<p> -“O. K.,” he said, “except Ivory Soap for teeth. Don't like the idea. -Suggests Kate may be foaming at the mouth next. Cut it out and say:— -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“'Your soul is like -Ivory Soap, it's so white.'” - </pre> -<p> -I sent the poem to Kate by the next mail, and that evening I called. She -was very much pleased with the poem, and said it was witty, and just what -she might have expected from me. She said it did not have as much soul as -Tennyson's “In Memoriam,” but that it was so different, one could hardly -compare the two. She suggested that the first line ought to be -illustrated. So the next morning I sent up a box of bonbons,—just as -an illustration. -</p> -<p> -“Now, Biggs,” I said, “we have made a good start; and we want to keep -things going. What we want now is a poem that will go right to the spot. -Something that will show on the face of it that it was meant for her, and -for no one else. The first effort is all right, but it might have been -written for any girl.” - </p> -<p> -“Then,” said Biggs, “you'll have to tell me how you stand with her, so I -can have something to lay hold on.” - </p> -<p> -I told him as much as I could, just as I had told my noble Perkins; and -Biggs dug in, and in a half-hour handed me:— -</p> -<h3> -THE GIRL I LOVE -</h3> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“I love a maid, and shall I tell you why? -It is not only that her soulful eye -Sets my heart beating at so huge a rate -That I'm appalled to feel it palpitate; -No! though her eye has power to conquer mine. -And fill my breast with feelings most divine, -Another thing my heart in love immersed— -Kate reads the advertising pages first! - -“A Sunday paper comes to her fair hand -Teeming with news of every foreign land, -With social gossip, fashions new and rare, -And politics and scandal in good share, -With verse and prose and pictures, and the lore -Of witty writers in a goodly corps, -Wit, wisdom, humor, all things interspersed— -Kate reads the advertising pages first! - -“The magazine, in brilliant cover bound, -Into her home its welcome way has found, -But, ere she reads the story of the trust, -Or tale of bosses, haughty and unjust, -Or tale of love, or strife, or pathos deep -That makes the gentle maiden shyly weep, -Or strange adventures thrillingly rehearsed, -Kate reads the advertising pages first! - -“Give me each time the maid with such a mind, -The maid who is superior to her kind; -She feels the pulse-beats of the world of men, -The power of the advertiser's pen; -She knows that fact more great than fiction -Is, And that the nation's life-blood is its 'biz.' -I love the maid who woman's way reversed -And reads the advertising pages first!” - </pre> -<p> -“Now, there,” said Biggs, “is something that ought to nail her sure. It is -one of the best things I have ever done. I am a poet, and I know good -poetry when I see it; and I give you my word that is the real article.” - </p> -<p> -I took Biggs's word for it, and I think he was right; but he had forgotten -to tell me that it was a humorous poem, and when Kate laughed over it, I -was a little surprised. I don't know that I exactly expected her to weep -over it, but to me it seemed to be a rather soulful sort of thing when I -read it. I thought there were two or three quite touching lines. But it -worked well enough. She and her poet laughed over it; and, as it seemed -the right thing to do, I screwed up my face and ha-ha'd a little, too, and -it went off very well. Kate told me again that I was a genius, and her -poet assured me that he would never have thought of writing a poem -anything like it. -</p> -<p> -“Well, now,” said Biggs, when I had reported progress, “we want to keep -following this thing right up. System is the whole thing. You have told -her how nice she is in No. 1, and given a reason why she is loved in No. -2. What we want to do is to give her in No. 3 a reason why she should like -you. Has she ever spoken of Codliver Capsules?” - </p> -<p> -So far as I could remember she had not. -</p> -<p> -“That is good,” said Biggs; “very good, indeed. She probably doesn't -identify you with them yet, or she would have thrown herself at your head -long ago. We don't want to brag about it—not yet. We want to break -it to her gently. We want to be humble and undeserving. You must be a -worm, so to speak.” - </p> -<p> -“Biggs,” I said, with dignity, “I don't propose to be a worm, so to -speak.” - </p> -<p> -“But,” he pleaded, “you must. It's only poetic license.” - </p> -<p> -That was the first I knew that poets had to be licensed. But I don't -wonder they have to be. Even a dog has to be licensed, these days. -</p> -<p> -“You must be the humble worm,” continued Biggs, “so that later on you can -blossom forth into the radiant conquering butterfly.” - </p> -<p> -I didn't like that any better. I showed Biggs that worms don't blossom. -Plants blossom. And butterflies don't conquer. And worms don't turn into -butterflies—caterpillars do. -</p> -<p> -“Very well,” said Biggs, “you must be the humble caterpillar, then.” - </p> -<p> -I told him I would rather be a caterpillar than a worm any day; and after -we had argued for half an hour on whether it was any better to be a -caterpillar than to be a worm. -</p> -<p> -Biggs remembered that it was only metaphorically speaking, after all, and -that nothing would be said about worms or caterpillars in the poem, and he -got down to work on No. 3. When he had it done, he put his feet on his -desk and read it to me. He called it -</p> -<h3> -HUMBLE MERIT -</h3> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“No prince nor poet proud am I, -Nor scion of an ancient clan; -I cannot place my rank so high— -I'm the Codliver Capsule Man. - -“No soulful sonnets I indite, -Nor do I play the pipes of Pan; -In five small words my place I write— -I'm the Codliver Capsule Man. - -“No soldier bold, with many scars, -Nor hacking, slashing partisan; -I have not galloped to the wars— -I'm the Codliver Capsule Man. - -“No, mine is not the wounding steel, -My life is on a gentler plan; -My mission is to cure and heal— -I'm the Codliver Capsule Man. - -“I do not cause the poor distress -By hoarding all the gold I can; -I, advertising, pay the press— -I'm the Codliver Capsule Man. - -“And if no sonnets I can write, -Pray do not put me under ban; -Remember, if your blood turns white, -I'm the Codliver Capsule Man!” - </pre> -<p> -“Well,” asked Biggs, the morning after I had delivered the poem, “how did -she take it?” - </p> -<p> -I looked at Biggs suspiciously. If I had seen a glimmer of an indication -that he was fooling with me, I would have killed him; but he seemed to be -perfectly serious. -</p> -<p> -“Was that poem intended to be humorous?” I asked. -</p> -<p> -“Why, yes! Yes! Certainly so,” Biggs replied. “At least it was supposed to -be witty; to provoke a smile and good humor at least.” - </p> -<p> -“Then, Biggs,” I said, “it was a glorious success. They smiled. They -smiled right out loud. In fact, they shouted. The poet and I had to pour -water on Kate to get her out of the hysterics. It is all right, of course, -to be funny; but the next time don't be so awful funny. It is not worth -while. I like to see Kate laugh, if it helps my cause; but I don't want to -have her die of laughter. It would defeat my ends.” - </p> -<p> -“That is so,” said Biggs, thoughtfully. “Did she say anything?” - </p> -<p> -“Yes,” I said; “when she was able to speak, she asked me if the poem was a -love poem.” - </p> -<p> -“What did you tell her?” asked Biggs, and he leaned low over his desk, -turning over papers. -</p> -<p> -“I told her it was,” I replied; “and she said that if any one was looking -for a genius to annex to the family, they ought not to miss the chance.” - </p> -<p> -“Ah, ha!” said Biggs, proudly; “what did I tell you? You humbled yourself. -You said, 'See! I am only the lowly Codliver Capsule man;' but you said it -so cleverly, so artistically, that you gave the impression that you were a -genius. You see what rapid strides you are making? Now here,” he added, -taking a paper from his desk, “is No. 4, in which you gracefully and -poetically come to the point of showing her your real standing. You have -been humble—now you assert yourself in your real colors. When she -reads this she will begin to see that you wish to make her your wife, for -no man states his prospects thus clearly unless he means to propose soon. -You will see that she will be ready to drop into your hand like a ripe -peach from a bough. I have called this 'Little Drops of Water.'” - </p> -<p> -“Wait a minute,” I said. “If this is going to have anything about the -Codliver Capsules in it, don't you think the title is just a little -suggestive? You know our formula. Don't you think that 'Little Drops of -Water' is rather letting out a trade secret?” Biggs smiled sarcastically. -</p> -<p> -“Not at all,” he said. “The suggestion I intended to make was that 'Little -drops of water, Little grains of sand, Make the mighty ocean,' etc. But if -you wish, we will call it 'Many a Mickle makes a Muckle';” and he read the -following poem in a clear, steady voice:— -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“How small is a Codliver Capsule, -And ten of them put in each box! -And the boxes and labels cost something— -No wonder that Ignorance mocks! - -“How cheap are the Codliver Capsules; -Two boxes one dollar will buy! -One Capsule costs only a nickel— -The price is considered not high. - -“Well known are the Codliver Capsules,— -We herald their fame everywhere; -And costly is our advertising, -But Perkins & Co. do not care. - -“We spend on the Codliver Capsules, -To advertise them, every year, -A Million cold Uncle Sam dollars— -I hope you will keep this point clear. - -“How, then, can the Codliver Capsules, -Which bring but a nickel apiece, -Yield us on our invested money -A single per cent, of increase? - -“How? We sell of the Codliver Capsules -Full four million boxes a year, -Which, at fifty cents each, gives a total -Of two million dollars, my dear. - -“You see that the Codliver Capsules, -When all advertising is paid, -Net us just a million of dollars, -From which other costs are defrayed. - -“Less these, then, the Codliver Capsules -Net five hundred thousand of good, -Cold, useful American dollars— -A point I would have understood. - -“And who owns the Codliver Capsules? -Two partners in Perkins & Co. -One-half of the five hundred thousand -To Perkins the Great must then go.” - -“And the rest of the Codliver Capsules -Belong to your servant, my sweet, -And these, with my love and devotion, -I hasten to lay at your feet.” - </pre> -<p> -When I read this pretty poem to Kate, she began laughing at the first -line, and I kept my eye on the water-pitcher, in case I should need it -again to quell her hysterics; but, as I proceeded with the poem, she -became thoughtful. When I had finished, her poet was laughing -uproariously; but Kate was silent. -</p> -<p> -“Is it possible,” she said, “that out of these funny little pink things -you make for yourself two hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year?” - </p> -<p> -“Certainly,” I said. “Didn't you understand that? I'll read the poem -again.” - </p> -<p> -“No! no!” she exclaimed, glancing hurriedly at the poet, who was still -rolled up with laughter. “Don't do that. I don't like it as well as your -other poems. I do not think it is half so funny, and I can't see what Mr. -Milward there sees in it that is so humorous.” - </p> -<p> -My face must have fallen; for I had put a great deal of faith in this -poem, because of what Biggs had said. Kate saw it. -</p> -<p> -“You are not a real poet,” she said as gently as she could. “You lack the -true celestial fire. Your poems all savor of those I read in the street-cars. -Poets are born, and not made. The true poet is a noble soul, floating -above the heads of common mortals, destined to live alone, and unmarried—” - </p> -<p> -Mr. Milward sat up suddenly and ceased laughing. -</p> -<p> -“And now,” continued Kate, “I must ask you both to excuse me, for I am -very tired.” But what do you think! As I was bowing good-night, while her -poet was struggling into his rubber overshoes, she whispered, so that only -I could hear:— -</p> -<p> -“Come up to-morrow evening. I will be all alone!” - </p> -<p> -When, two days later, I told Perkins of my engagement, he only said:— -</p> -<p> -“Pays to advertise.” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -VII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE CRIMSON CORD -</h2> -<h3> -I -</h3> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> HAD not seen Perkins for six months or so, and things were dull. I was -beginning to tire of sitting indolently in my office, with nothing to do -but clip coupons from my bonds. Money is good enough in its way, but it is -not interesting unless it is doing something lively—doubling itself -or getting lost. What I wanted was excitement,—an adventure,—and -I knew that if I could find Perkins, I could have both. A scheme is a -business adventure, and Perkins was the greatest schemer in or out of -Chicago. -</p> -<p> -Just then Perkins walked into my office. -</p> -<p> -“Perkins,” I said, as soon as he had arranged his feet comfortably on my -desk, “I'm tired. I'm restless. I have been wishing for you for a month. I -want to go into a big scheme, and make a lot of new, up-to-date cash. I'm -sick of this tame, old cash that I have. It isn't interesting. No cash is -interesting except the coming cash.” - </p> -<p> -“I'm with you,” said Perkins; “what is your scheme?” - </p> -<p> -“I have none,” I said sadly. “That is just my trouble. I have sat here for -days trying to think of a good, practical scheme, but I can't. I don't -believe there is an unworked scheme in the whole wide, wide world.” - Perkins waved his hand. -</p> -<p> -“My boy,” he exclaimed, “there are millions! You've thousands of 'em right -here in your office! You're falling over them, sitting on them, walking on -them! Schemes? Everything is a scheme. Everything has money in it!” - </p> -<p> -I shrugged my shoulders. -</p> -<p> -“Yes,” I said, “for you. But you are a genius.” - </p> -<p> -“Genius, yes,” Perkins said, smiling cheerfully, “else why Perkins the -Great? Why Perkins the Originator? Why the Great and Only Perkins of -Portland?” - </p> -<p> -“All right,” I said, “what I want is for your genius to get busy. I'll -give you a week to work up a good scheme.” - </p> -<p> -Perkins pushed back his hat, and brought his feet to the floor with a -smack. -</p> -<p> -“Why the delay?” he queried. “Time is money. Hand me something from your -desk.” - </p> -<p> -I looked in my pigeonholes, and pulled from one a small ball of string. -Perkins took it in his hand, and looked at it with great admiration. -</p> -<p> -“What is it?” he asked seriously. -</p> -<p> -“That,” I said, humoring him, for I knew something great would be evolved -from his wonderful brain, “is a ball of red twine I bought at the ten-cent -store. I bought it last Saturday. It was sold to me by a freckled young -lady in a white shirt-waist. I paid—” - </p> -<p> -“Stop!” Perkins cried, “what is it?” - </p> -<p> -I looked at the ball of twine curiously. I tried to see something -remarkable in it. I couldn't. It remained a simple ball of red twine, and -I told Perkins so. -</p> -<p> -“The difference,” declared Perkins, “between mediocrity and genius! -Mediocrity always sees red twine; genius sees a ball of Crimson Cord!” - </p> -<p> -He leaned back in his chair, and looked at me triumphantly. He folded his -arms as if he had settled the matter. His attitude seemed to say that he -had made a fortune for us. Suddenly he reached forward, and, grasping my -scissors, began snipping off small lengths of the twine. -</p> -<p> -“The Crimson Cord!” he ejaculated. “What does it suggest?” - </p> -<p> -I told him that it suggested a parcel from the druggist's. I had often -seen just such twine about a druggist's parcel. -</p> -<p> -Perkins sniffed disdainfully. -</p> -<p> -“Druggists?” he exclaimed with disgust. “Mystery! Blood! 'The Crimson -Cord.' Daggers! Murder! Strangling! Clues! 'The Crimson Cord'—” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/122.jpg" alt="122" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -He motioned wildly with his hands, as if the possibilities of the phrase -were quite beyond his power of expression. -</p> -<p> -“It sounds like a book,” I suggested. -</p> -<p> -“Great!” cried Perkins. “A novel! The novel! Think of the words 'A Crimson -Cord' in blood-red letters six feet high on a white ground!” He pulled his -hat over his eyes, and spread out his hands; and I think he shuddered. -</p> -<p> -“Think of 'A Crimson Cord,'” he muttered, “in blood-red letters on a -ground of dead, sepulchral black, with a crimson cord writhing through -them like a serpent.” - </p> -<p> -He sat up suddenly, and threw one hand in the air. -</p> -<p> -“Think,” he cried, “of the words in black on white, with a crimson cord -drawn taut across the whole ad.!” - </p> -<p> -He beamed upon me. -</p> -<p> -“The cover of the book,” he said quite calmly, “will be white,—virgin, -spotless white,—with black lettering, and the cord in crimson. With -each copy we will give a crimson silk cord for a book-mark. Each copy will -be done up in a white box and tied with crimson cord.” - </p> -<p> -He closed his eyes and tilted his head upward. -</p> -<p> -“A thick book,” he said, “with deckel edges and pictures by Christy. No, -pictures by Pyle. Deep, mysterious pictures! Shadows and gloom! And wide, -wide margins. And a gloomy foreword. One-fifty per copy, at all -booksellers.” - </p> -<p> -Perkins opened his eyes and set his hat straight with a quick motion of -his hand. He arose and polled on his gloves. -</p> -<p> -“Where are you going?” I asked. -</p> -<p> -“Contracts!” he said. “Contracts for advertising! We most boom 'The -Crimson Cord!' We must boom her big!” - </p> -<p> -He went out and closed the door. Presently, when I supposed him well on -the way down-town, he opened the door and inserted his head. -</p> -<p> -“Gilt. tops,” he announced. “One million copies the first impression!” - </p> -<p> -And then he was gone. -</p> -<h3> -II. -</h3> -<p> -A week later Chicago and the greater part of the United States was -placarded with “The Crimson Cord.” Perkins did his work thoroughly and -well, and great was the interest in the mysterious title. It was an old -dodge, but a good one. Nothing appeared on the advertisements but the mere -title. No word as to what “The Crimson Cord” was. Perkins merely announced -the words, and left them to rankle in the reader's mind; and as a natural -consequence each new advertisement served to excite new interest. -</p> -<p> -When we made our contracts for magazine advertising,—and we took a -full page in every worthy magazine,—the publishers were at a loss to -classify the advertisement; and it sometimes appeared among the breakfast -foods, and sometimes sandwiched in between the automobiles and the -hot-water heaters. Only one publication placed it among the books. -</p> -<p> -But it was all good advertising, and Perkins was a busy man. He racked his -inventive brain for new methods of placing the title before the public. In -fact, so busy was he at his labor of introducing the title, that he quite -forgot the book itself. -</p> -<p> -One day he came to the office with a small rectangular package. He -unwrapped it in his customary enthusiastic manner, and set on my desk a -cigar-box bound in the style he had selected for the binding of “The -Crimson Cord.” It was then I spoke of the advisability of having something -to the book besides the cover and a boom. -</p> -<p> -“Perkins,” I said, “don't you think it is about time we got hold of the -novel—the reading, the words?” - </p> -<p> -For a moment he seemed stunned. It was clear that he had quite forgotten -that book-buyers like to have a little reading-matter in their books. But -he was only dismayed for a moment. -</p> -<p> -“Tut!” he cried presently. “All in good time! The novel is easy. Anything -will do. I'm no literary man. I don't read a book in a year. You get the -novel.” - </p> -<p> -“But I don't read a book in five years!” I exclaimed. “I don't know -anything about books. I don't know where to get a novel.” - </p> -<p> -“Advertise!” he exclaimed. “Advertise! You can get anything, from an apron -to an ancestor, if you advertise for it. Offer a prize—offer a -thousand dollars for the best novel. There must be thousands of novels not -in use.” - </p> -<p> -Perkins was right. I advertised as he suggested, and learned that there -were thousands of novels not in use. They came to us by basketfuls and -cartloads. We had novels of all kinds,—historical and hysterical, -humorous and numerous, but particularly numerous. You would be surprised -to learn how many ready-made novels can be had on short notice. It beats -quick lunch. And most of them are equally indigestible. I read one or two, -but I was no judge of novels. Perkins suggested that we draw lots to see -which we should use. -</p> -<p> -It really made little difference what the story was about. “The Crimson -Cord” fits almost any kind of a book. It is a nice, non-committal sort of -title, and might mean the guilt that bound two sinners, or the tie of -affection that binds lovers, or a blood relationship, or it might be a -mystification title with nothing in the book about it. -</p> -<p> -But the choice settled itself. One morning a manuscript arrived that was -tied with a piece of red twine, and we chose that one for good luck -because of the twine. Perkins said that was a sufficient excuse for the -title, too. We would publish the book anonymously, and let it be known -that the only clue to the writer was the crimson cord with which the -manuscript was tied when we received it. It would be a first-class -advertisement. -</p> -<p> -Perkins, however, was not much interested in the story, and he left me to -settle the details. I wrote to the author asking him to call, and he -turned out to be a young woman. -</p> -<p> -Our interview was rather shy. I was a little doubtful about the proper way -to talk to a real author, being purely a Chicagoan myself; and I had an -idea that, while my usual vocabulary was good enough for business -purposes, it might be too easy-going to impress a literary person -properly, and in trying to talk up to her standard I had to be very -careful in my choice of words. No publisher likes to have his authors -think he is weak in the grammar line. -</p> -<p> -Miss Rosa Belle Vincent, however, was quite as flustered as I was. She -seemed ill at ease and anxious to get away, which I supposed was because -she had not often conversed with publishers who paid a thousand dollars -cash in advance for a manuscript. -</p> -<p> -She was not at all what I had thought an author would look like. She -didn't even wear glasses. If I had met her on the street I should have -said, “There goes a pretty flip stenographer.” She was that kind—big -picture hat and high pompadour. -</p> -<p> -I was afraid she would try to run the talk into literary lines and Ibsen -and Gorky, where I would have been swamped in a minute, but she didn't; -and, although I had wondered how to break the subject of money when -conversing with one who must be thinking of nobler things, I found she was -less shy when on that subject than when talking about her book. -</p> -<p> -“Well, now,” I said, as soon as I had got her seated, “we have decided to -buy this novel of yours. Can you recommend it as a thoroughly respectable -and intellectual production?” - </p> -<p> -She said she could. -</p> -<p> -“Haven't you read it?” she asked in some surprise. -</p> -<p> -“No,” I stammered. “At least, not yet. I'm going to as soon as I can find -the requisite leisure. You see, we are very busy just now—very busy. -But if you can vouch for the story being a first-class article,—something, -say, like 'The Vicar of Wakefield,' or 'David Hamm,'—we'll take it.” - </p> -<p> -“Now you're talking,” she said. “And do I get the check now?” - </p> -<p> -“Wait,” I said, “not so fast. I have forgotten one thing,” and I saw her -face fall. “We want the privilege of publishing the novel under a title of -our own, and anonymously. If that is not satisfactory, the deal is off.” - </p> -<p> -She brightened in a moment. -</p> -<p> -“It's a go, if that's all,” she said. “Call it whatever you please; and -the more anonymous it is, the better it will suit yours truly.” So we -settled the matter then and there; and when I gave her our check for a -thousand, she said I was all right. -</p> -<h3> -III. -</h3> -<p> -Half an hour after Miss Vincent had left the office, Perkins came in with -his arms full of bundles, which he opened, spreading their contents on my -desk. -</p> -<p> -He had a pair of suspenders with nickeldiver mountings, a tie, a lady's -belt, a pair of low shoes, a shirt, a box of cigars, a package of cookies, -and a half a dozen other things of divers and miscellaneous character. I -poked them over and examined them, while he leaned against the desk with -his legs crossed. He was beaming upon me. -</p> -<p> -“Well,” I said, “what is it—a bargain sale?” - </p> -<p> -Perkins leaned over and tapped the pile with his long forefinger. -</p> -<p> -“Aftermath!” he crowed. “Aftermath!” - </p> -<p> -“The dickens it is!” I exclaimed. -</p> -<p> -“And what has aftermath got to do with this truck? It looks like the -aftermath of a notion store.” He tipped his “Air-the-Hair” hat over one -ear, and put his thumbs in the armholes of his “ready-tailored” vest. -</p> -<p> -“Genius!” he announced. “Brains! Foresight! Else why Perkins the Great? -Why not Perkins the Nobody?” - </p> -<p> -He raised the suspenders tenderly from the pile, and fondled them in his -hands. -</p> -<p> -“See this?” he asked, running his finger along the red corded edge of the -elastic. He took up the tie, and ran his nail along the red stripe that -formed the selvedge on the back, and said, “See this?” He pointed to the -red laces of the low shoes and asked, “See this?” And so through the whole -collection. -</p> -<p> -“What is it?” he asked. “It's genius! It's foresight!” - </p> -<p> -He waved his hand over the pile. -</p> -<p> -“The Aftermath!” he exclaimed. -</p> -<p> -“These suspenders are the Crimson Cord suspenders. These shoes are the -Crimson Cord shoes. This tie is the Crimson Cord tie. These crackers are -the Crimson Cord brand. Perkins & Co. get out a great book, 'The -Crimson Cord'! Sell five million copies. Dramatized, it runs three hundred -nights. Everybody talking Crimson Cord. Country goes Crimson Cord crazy. -Result—up jump Crimson Cord this and Crimson Cord that. Who gets the -benefit? Perkins & Co.? No! We pay the advertising bills, and the -other man sells his Crimson Cord cigars. That is usual.” - </p> -<p> -“Tes,” I said, “I'm smoking a David Harum cigar this minute, and I am -wearing a Carvel collar.” - </p> -<p> -“How prevent it?” asked Perkins. “One way only,—discovered by -Perkins. Copyright the words 'Crimson Cord' as trademark for every -possible thing. Sell the trade-mark on royalty. Ten per cent, of all -receipts for 'Crimson Cord' brands comes to Perkins & Co. Get a cinch -on the Aftermath!” - </p> -<p> -“Perkins!” I cried, “I admire you. You are a genius! And have you -contracts with all these:—notions?” - </p> -<p> -“Yes,” said Perkins, “that's Perkins's method. Who originated the Crimson -Cord? Perkins did. Who is entitled to the profits on the Crimson Cord? -Perkins is. Perkins is wide-awake all the time. Perkins gets a profit on -the aftermath and the math and the before the math.” - </p> -<p> -And so he did. He made his new contracts with the magazines on the -exchange plan. We gave a page of advertising in the “Crimson Cord” for a -page of advertising in the magazine. We guaranteed five million -circulation. We arranged with all the manufacturers of the Crimson Cord -brands of goods to give coupons, one hundred of which entitled the holder -to a copy of “The Crimson Cord.” With a pair of Crimson Cord suspenders -you get fire coupons; with each Crimson Cord cigar, one coupon; and so on. -</p> -<h3> -IV -</h3> -<p> -On the first of October we announced in our advertisement that “The -Crimson Cord” was a book; the greatest novel of the century; a thrilling, -exciting tale of love. Miss Vincent had told me it was a love story. Just -to make everything sure, however, I sent the manuscript to Professor -Wiggins, who is the most erudite man I ever met. He knows eighteen -languages, and reads Egyptian as easily as I read English. In fact, his -specialty is old Egyptian ruins and so on. He has written several books on -them. -</p> -<p> -Professor said the novel seemed to him very light and trashy, but -grammatically O. K. He said he never read novels, not having time; but he -thought that “The Crimson Cord” was just about the sort of thing a silly -public that refused to buy his “Some Light on the Dynastic Proclivities of -the Hyksos” would scramble for. On the whole, I considered the report -satisfactory. -</p> -<p> -We found we would be unable to have Pyle illustrate the book, he being too -busy, so we turned it over to a young man at the Art Institute. -</p> -<p> -That was the fifteenth of October, and we had promised the book to the -public for the first of November, but we had it already in type; and the -young man,—his name was Gilkowsky,—promised to work night and -day on the illustrations. -</p> -<p> -The next morning, almost as soon as I reached the office, Gilkowsky came -in. He seemed a little hesitant, but I welcomed him warmly, and he spoke -up. -</p> -<p> -“I have a girl I go with,” he said; and I wondered what I had to do with -Mr. Gilkowsky's girl, but he continued:— -</p> -<p> -“She's a nice girl and a good looker, but she's got bad taste in some -things. She's too loud in hats and too trashy in literature. I don't like -to say this about her, but it's true; and I'm trying to educate her in -good hats and good literature. So I thought it would be a good thing to -take around this 'Crimson Cord' and let her read it to me.” - </p> -<p> -I nodded. -</p> -<p> -“Did she like it?” I asked. -</p> -<p> -Mr. Gilkowsky looked at me closely. -</p> -<p> -“She did,” he said, but not so enthusiastically as I had expected. “It's -her favorite book. Now I don't know what your scheme is, and I suppose you -know what you are doing better than I do; but I thought perhaps I had -better come around before I got to work on the illustrations and see if, -perhaps, you hadn't given me the wrong manuscript.” - </p> -<p> -“No, that was the right manuscript,” I said. “Was there anything wrong -about it?” - </p> -<p> -Mr. Gilkowsky laughed nervously. -</p> -<p> -“Oh, no!” he said. “But did you read it?” - </p> -<p> -I told him I had not, because I had been so rushed with details connected -with advertising the book. -</p> -<p> -“Well,” he said, “I'll tell you. This girl of mine reads pretty trashy -stuff, and she knows about all the cheap novels there are. She dotes on -'The Duchess,' and puts her last dime into Braddon. She knows them all by -heart. Have you ever read 'Lady Audley's Secret'?” - </p> -<p> -“I see,” I said. “One is a sequel to the other.” - </p> -<p> -“No,” said Mr. Gilkowsky, “one is the other. Some one has flimflammed you -and sold you a typewritten copy of 'Lady Audley's Secret' as a new novel.” - </p> -<h3> -V -</h3> -<p> -When I told Perkins, he merely remarked that he thought every publishing -house ought to have some one in it who knew something about books, apart -from the advertising end, although that was, of course, the most -important. He said we might go ahead and publish “Lady Audley's Secret” - under the title of “The Crimson Cord,” as such things had been done -before; but the best thing to do would be to charge Rosa Belle Vincent's -thousand dollars to profit and loss, and hustle for another novel—something -reliable, and not shop-worn. -</p> -<p> -Perkins had been studying the literature market a little, and he advised -me to get something from Indiana this time; so I telegraphed an -advertisement to the Indianapolis papers, and two days later we had -ninety-eight historical novels by Indiana authors from which to choose. -Several were of the right length; and we chose one, and sent it to Mr. -Gilkowsky, with a request that he read it to his sweetheart. She had never -read it before. -</p> -<p> -We sent a detective to Dillville, Ind., where the author lived; and the -report we received was most satisfactory. -</p> -<p> -The author was a sober, industrious young man, just out of the high -school, and bore a first-class reputation for honesty. He had never been -in Virginia, where the scene of his story was laid, and they had no -library in Dillville; and our detective assured us that the young man was -in every way fitted to write a historical novel. -</p> -<p> -“The Crimson Cord” made an immense success. You can guess how it boomed -when I say that, although it was published at a dollar and a half, it was -sold by every department store for fifty-four cents, away below cost, just -like sugar, or Vandeventer's Baby Food, or Q & Z Corsets, or any other -staple. We sold our first edition of five million copies inside of three -months, and got out another edition of two million, and a specially -illustrated holiday edition, and an “edition de luxe;” and “The Crimson -Cord” is still selling in paper-covered cheap edition. -</p> -<p> -With the royalties received from the after-math and the profit on the book -itself, we made—well, Perkins has a country place at Lakewood, and I -have my cottage at Newport. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -VIII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE PRINCESS OF PILLIWINK -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">P</span>ERKINS slammed the five-o'clock edition of the Chicago “Evening Howl” - into the waste-paper basket, and trod it down with the heel of his -Go-lightly rubber-sole shoe. -</p> -<p> -“Rot!” he cried. “Tommy rot! Fiddlesticks! Trash!” - </p> -<p> -I looked up meekly. I had seldom seen Perkins angry, and I was abashed. He -saw my expression of surprise; and, like the great man he is, he smiled -sweetly to reassure me. -</p> -<p> -“Diamonds again,” he explained. “Same old tale. Georgiana De Vere, leading -lady, diamonds stolen. Six thousand four hundred and tenth time in the -history of the American stage that diamonds have been stolen. If I -couldn't—” - </p> -<p> -“But you could, Perkins,” I cried, eagerly. “You would not have to use the -worn-out methods of booming a star. In your hands theatrical advertising -would become fresh, virile, interesting. A play advertised by the -brilliant, original, great—” - </p> -<p> -“Illustrious,” Perkins suggested. “Illustrious Perkins of Portland,” I -said, bowing to acknowledge my thanks for the word I needed, “would -conquer America. It would fill the largest theatres for season after -season. It would—” - </p> -<p> -Perkins arose and slapped his “Air-the-Hair” hat on his head, and hastily -slid into his “ready-tailored” overcoat. Without waiting for me to finish -my sentence he started for the door. -</p> -<p> -“It would—” I repeated, and then, just as he was disappearing, I -called, “Where are you going?” - </p> -<p> -He paused in the hall just long enough to stick his head into the room. -</p> -<p> -“Good idea!” he cried, “great idea! No time to be lost! Perkins the Great -goes to get the play!” - </p> -<p> -He banged the door, and I was left alone. -</p> -<p> -That was the way Perkins did things. Not on the spur of the moment, for -Perkins needed no spur. He was fall of spurs. He did things in the heat of -genius. He might have used as his motto those words that he originated, -and that have been copied so often since by weak imitators of the great -man: “Don't wait until to-morrow; do it to-day. Tomorrow you may be dead.” - He wrote that to advertise coffins, and—well, Li Hung Chang and Sara -Bernhardt are only two of the people who took his advice, and lay in their -coffins before they had to be in them. -</p> -<p> -I knew Perkins would have the whole affair planned, elaborated, and -developed before he reached the street; that he would have the details of -the plan complete before he reached the corner; and that he would have -figured the net profit to within a few dollars by the time he reached his -destination. -</p> -<p> -I had hardly turned to my desk before my telephone bell rang. I slapped -the receiver to my ear. It was Perkins! -</p> -<p> -“Pilly,” he said. “Pilly willy. Pilly willy winkum. Pilliwink! That's it. -Pilliwink, Princess of. Write it down. The Princess of Pilliwink. -Good-by.” - </p> -<p> -I hung up the receiver. -</p> -<p> -“That is the name of the play,” I mused. “Mighty good name, too. Full of -meaning, like 'shout Zo-Zo' and 'Paskala' and—” - </p> -<p> -The bell rang again. -</p> -<p> -“Perkins's performers. Good-by,” came the voice of my great friend. -</p> -<p> -“Great!” I shouted, but Perkins had already rung off. -</p> -<p> -He came back in about half an hour with four young men in tow. -</p> -<p> -“Good idea,” I said, “male quartettes always take well.” - </p> -<p> -Perkins waved his hand scornfully. Perkins could do that. He could do -anything, could Perkins. “Quartette? No,” he said, “the play.” He locked -the office door, and put the key in his pocket. “The play is in them,” he -said, “and they are in here. They don't get out until they get the play -out.” - </p> -<p> -He tapped the long-haired young man on the shoulder. -</p> -<p> -“Love lyrics,” he said, briefly. -</p> -<p> -The thin young man with a sad countenance he touched on the arm and said, -“Comic songs,” and pointing to the youth who wore the baggiest trousers, -he said, “Dialogue.” He did not have to tell me that the wheezy little -German contained the music of our play. I knew it by the way he wheezed. -</p> -<p> -Perkins swept me away from my desk, and deposited one young man there, and -another at his desk. The others he gave each a window-sill, and to each of -the four he handed a pencil and writing-pad. -</p> -<p> -“Write!” he said, and they wrote. -</p> -<p> -As fast as the poets finished a song, they handed it to the composer, who -made suitable music for it. It was good music—it all reminded you of -something else. If it wasn't real music, it was at least founded on fact. -</p> -<p> -The play did not have much plot, but it had plenty of places for the -chorus to come in in tights or short skirts—and that is nine-tenths -of any comic opera. I knew it was the real thing as soon as I read it. The -dialogue was full of choice bits like,— -</p> -<p> -“So you think you can sing?” - </p> -<p> -“Well, I used to sing in good old boyhood's hour.” - </p> -<p> -“Then why don't you sing it?” - </p> -<p> -“Sing what?” - </p> -<p> -“Why, 'In Good Old Boyhood's Hour,'” and then he would sing it. -</p> -<p> -The musical composer sang us some of the lyrics, just to let us see how -clever they were; but he wheezed too much to do them justice. He admitted -that they would sound better if a pretty woman with a swell costume and -less wheeze sang them. -</p> -<p> -The plot of the play—it was in three acts—was original, so far -as there was any plot. The Princess of Pilliwink loved the Prince of Guam; -but her father, the leading funny man, and King of Pilliwink, wanted her -to marry Gonzolo, an Italian, because Gonzolo owned the only hand-organ in -the kingdom. To escape this marriage, the Princess disguised herself as a -Zulu maiden, and started for Zululand in an automobile. The second act -was, therefore, in Zululand, with songs about palms and a grand cakewalk -of Amazons, who captured another Italian organ-grinder. At the request of -the princess, this organ-grinder was thrown into prison. In the third act -he was discovered to be the Prince of Guam, and everything ended -beautifully. -</p> -<p> -Perkins paid the author syndicate spot cash, and unlocked the door and let -them go. He did not want any royalties hanging over him. “Ah!” he said, as -soon as they were out of sight. -</p> -<p> -We spent the night editing the play. Neither Perkins nor I knew anything -about plays, but we did our best. We changed that play from an every-day -comic opera into a bright and sparkling gem. Anything that our author -syndicate had omitted we put in. I did the writing and Perkins dictated to -me. We put in a disrobing scene, in which the Princess was discovered in -pain, and removed enough of her dress to allow her to place a Perkins's -Patent Porous Plaster between her shoulders, after which she sang the song -beginning,— -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“Now my heart with rapture thrills,” - </pre> -<p> -only we changed it to:— -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“How my back with rapture thrills.” - </pre> -<p> -That song ended the first act; and when the opera was played, we had boys -go up and down the aisles during the intermission selling Perkins's Patent -Porous Plasters, on which the words and music of the song were printed. It -made a great hit. -</p> -<p> -The drinking song—every opera has one—we changed just a -little. Instead of tin goblets each singer had a box of Perkins's Pink -Pellets; and, as they sang, they touched boxes with each other, and -swallowed the Pink Pellets. It was easy to change the song from -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“Drain the red wine-cup— -Each good fellow knows -The jolly red wine-cup -Will cure all his woes” - </pre> -<p> -to the far more moral and edifying verse,— -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“Eat the Pink Pellet, -For every one knows -That Perkins's Pink Pellets -Will cure all his woes.” - </pre> -<p> -When Perkins had finished touching up that opera, it was not such an -every-day opera as it had been. He put some life into it. -</p> -<p> -I asked him if he didn't think he had given it a rather commercial -atmosphere by introducing the Porous Plaster and the Pink Pellets, but he -only smiled knowingly. -</p> -<p> -“Wait!” he said, “wait a week. Wait until Perkins circulates himself -around town. Why should the drama be out of date? Why avoid all interest? -Why not have the opera teem with the life of the day? Why not?” He laid -one leg gently over the arm of his chair and tilted his hat back on his -head. -</p> -<p> -“Literature, art, drama,” he said, “the phonographs of civilization. Where -is the brain of the world? In literature, art, and the drama. These three -touch the heartstrings; these three picture mankind; these three teach us. -They move the world.” - </p> -<p> -“Yes,” I said. -</p> -<p> -“Good!” exclaimed Perkins. “But why is the drama weak? Why no more -Shakespeares? Why no more Molières? Because the real life-blood of to-day -isn't in the drama. What is the life-blood of to-day?” - </p> -<p> -I thought he meant Perkins's Pink Pellets, so I said so. -</p> -<p> -“No!” he said, “advertising! The ad. makes the world go round. Why do our -plays fall flat? Not enough advertising. Of them and in them. Take -literature. See 'Bilton's New Monthly Magazine.' Sixty pages reading; two -hundred and forty pages advertising; one million circulation; everybody -likes it. Take the Bible—no ads.; nobody reads it. Take art; what's -famous? 'Gold Dust Triplets;' 'Good evening, have you used Pear's?' Who -prospers? The ad. illustrator. The ad. is the biggest thing on earth. It -sways nations. It wins hearts. It rules destiny. People cry for ads.” - </p> -<p> -“That is true enough,” I remarked. -</p> -<p> -“Why,” asked Perkins, “do men make magazines? To sell ad. space in them! -Why build barns and fences? To sell ad. space! Why run street-cars? To -sell ad. space! But the drama is neglected. The poor, lonely drama is -neglected. In ten years there will be no more drama. The stage will pass -away.” - </p> -<p> -Perkins uncoiled his legs and stood upright before me. -</p> -<p> -“The theatre would have died before now,” he said, “but for the little ad. -life it has. What has kept it alive? A few ads.! See how gladly the -audience reads the ads. in the programmes when the actors give them a -little time. See how they devour the ad. drop-curtain! Who first saw that -the ad. must save the stage? Who will revive the down trod theatrical -art?” - </p> -<p> -“Perkins!” I cried. “Perkins will. I don't know what you mean to do, but -you will revive the drama. I can see it in your eyes. Go ahead. Do it. I -am willing.” - </p> -<p> -I thought he would tell me what he meant to do, but he did not. I had to -ask him. He lifted the manuscript of the opera from the table. -</p> -<p> -“Sell space!” he exclaimed. “Perkins the Originator will sell space in the -greatest four-hour play in the world. What's a barn? So many square feet -of ad. space. What's a magazine? So many pages of ad. space. What's a -play? So many minutes of ad. space. Price, one hundred dollars a minute. -Special situations in the plot extra.” - </p> -<p> -I did not know just what he meant, but I soon learned. The next day -Perkins started out with the manuscript of the “Princess of Pilliwink.” - And when he returned in the evening he was radiant with triumph. Every -minute of available space had been sold, and he had been obliged to add a -prologue to accommodate all the ads. -</p> -<p> -The “Princess of Pilliwink” had some modern interest when Perkins was -through with it. It did not take up time with things no one cared a cent -about. It went right to the spot. -</p> -<p> -There was a Winton Auto on the stage when the curtain rose, and from then -until the happy couple boarded the Green Line Flyer in the last scene the -interest was intense. There was a shipwreck, where all hands were saved by -floating ashore on Ivory Soap,—it floats,—and you should have -heard the applause when the hero laughed in the villain's face and said, -“Kill me, then. I have no fear. I am insured in the Prudential Insurance -Company. It has the strength of Port Arthur.” - </p> -<p> -We substituted a groanograph—the kind that hears its master's voice—for -the hand-organ that was in the original play, and every speech and song -brought to mind some article that was worthy of patronage. -</p> -<p> -The first-night audience went wild with delight. You should have heard -them cheer when our ushers passed around post-cards and pencils between -the acts, in order that they might write for catalogues and samples to our -advertisers. Across the bottom of each card was printed, “I heard your -advertisement in the 'Princess of Pilliwink.'” - </p> -<p> -Run? That play ran like a startled deer I It drew such crowded houses that -we had to post signs at the door announcing that we would only sell -tickets to thin men and women; and then we had an especially narrow opera -chair constructed, so that we were able to seat ten more people on each -row. -</p> -<p> -The play had plenty of variety, too. Perkins had thought of that. He sold -the time by the month; and, when an ad. expired, he only sold the space to -a new advertiser. Thus one month there was a lullaby about Ostermoor -mattresses,—the kind that advertises moth-eaten horses to show what -it isn't made of,—and it ran:— -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“Bye, oh! my little fairy. -On the mattress sanitary -Sent on thirty days' free trial -Softly sleep and sweetly smile. - -“Bye, oh! bye! my little baby, -Though your poor dad busted may be. -Thirty days have not passed yet, -So sleep well, my little pet.” - </pre> -<p> -And when Perkins sold this time space the next month to the makers of the -Fireproof Aluminum Coffin, we cut out the lullaby, and inserted the -following cheerful ditty, which always brought tears to the eyes of the -audience:— -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“Screw the lid on tightly, father, -Darling ma has far to go; -She must take the elevator -Up above or down below. - -“Screw the lid on tightly, father, -Darling ma goes far to-night; -To the banks of rolling Jordan, -Or to realms of anthracite. - -“Screw the lid on tightly, father, -Leave no chinks for heated air, -For if ma is going one place, -There's no fire insurance there.” - </pre> -<p> -You can see by this how different the play could be made from month to -month. Always full of sparkling wit and clean, wholesome humor—as -fresh as Uneeda Biscuit, and as bright as a Loftis-on-credit diamond. Take -the scene where the Princess of Pilliwink sailed away to Zululand as an -example of the variety we were able to introduce. The first month she -sailed away on a cake of Ivory Soap—it floats; the next month she -sailed on an Ostermoor Felt Mattress—it floats; and then for a month -she voyaged on the floating Wool Soap; and she travelled in steam -motor-boats and electric motor-boats; by Cook's tours, and across the ice -by automobile, by kite, and on the handle of a Bissell Carpet Sweeper, -like an up-to-date witch. She used every known mode of locomotion, from -skates to kites. -</p> -<p> -She was a grand actress. Her name was Bedelia O'Dale; and, whatever she -was doing on the stage, she was charming. Whether she was taking a vapor -bath in a $4.98 cabinet or polishing her front teeth with Sozodont, she -was delightful. She had all the marks of a real lady, and gave tone to the -whole opera. In fact, all the cast was good. Perkins spared no expense. He -got the best artists he could find, regardless of the cost; and it paid. -But we nearly lost them all. You remember when we put the play on first, -in 1897,—the good old days when oatmeal and rolled wheat were still -the only breakfast foods. We had a breakfast scene, where the whole troup -ate oatmeal, and pretended they liked it. That scene went well enough -until we began to get new ads. for it. The troup never complained, no -matter how often he shifted them from oatmeal to rolled wheat and back -again. They always came on the stage happy and smiling, and stuffed -themselves with Pettijohns and Mothers' Oats, and carolled merrily. -</p> -<p> -But about the time the twentieth century dawned, the new patent breakfast -foods began to boom; and we got after them hotfoot. First he got a -contract from Grape-nuts, and the cast and chorus had to eat Grape-nuts -and warble how good it was. -</p> -<p> -Perkins was working up the Pink Pellets then, and he turned the Princess -of Pilliwink job over to me. -</p> -<p> -If Perkins had been getting the ads., all would still have been well; but -new breakfast foods cropped up faster than one a month, and I couldn't -bear to see them wait their turn for the breakfast scene. There were -Malta-Vita and Force and Try-a-Bita and Cero-Fruto and Kapl-Flakes and -Wheat-Meat, and a lot more; and I signed them all. It was thoughtless of -me. I admit that now, but I was a little careless in those days. When our -reviser revised the play to get all those breakfast foods in, he shook his -head. He said the audience might like it, but he had his doubts about the -cast. He said he did not believe any cast on earth could eat thirteen -consecutive breakfast foods, and smile the smile that won't. He said it -was easy enough for him to write thirteen distinct lyrics about breakfast -foods, but that to him it seemed that by the time the chorus had downed -breakfast food number twelve, it would be so full of oats, peas, beans, -and barley that it couldn't gurgle. -</p> -<p> -I am sorry to say he was right. We had a pretty tough-stomached troup; and -they might have been able to handle the thirteen breakfast foods, -especially as most of the foods were already from one-half to -three-quarters digested as they were sold, but we had a few other -lunchibles in the play already. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/158.jpg" alt="158" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -That year the ads. were running principally to automobiles, correspondence -schools, and food stuffs; and we had to take in the food stuffs or not -sell our space. -</p> -<p> -As I look back upon it, I cannot blame the cast, although I was angry -enough at the time. When a high-bred actress has eaten two kinds of soup, -a sugar-cured ham, self-rising flour, air-tight soda crackers, three -infant foods, two patent jellies, fifty-seven varieties of pickles, clam -chowder, devilled lobster, a salad dressing, and some beef extract, she is -not apt to hanker for thirteen varieties of breakfast food. She is more -likely to look upon them with cold disdain. Ho matter how good a breakfast -food may be by itself and in the morning, it is somewhat unlovely at ten -at night after devilled lobster and fifty-seven varieties of pickles. At -the sight of it the star, instead of gaily carolling,— -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“Joy! joy! isn't it nice -To eat Cook's Flaked Rice,” - </pre> -<p> -is apt to gag. After about six breakfast foods, her epiglottis and thorax -will shut up shop and begin to turn wrong side out with a sickly gurgle. -The whole company struck. They very sensibly remarked that if the troup -had to keep up that sort of thing and eat every new breakfast food that -came out, the things needed were not men and women, but a herd of cows. -They gave me notice that they one and all intended to leave at the end of -the week, and that they positively refused to eat anything whatever on the -stage. -</p> -<p> -I went to Perkins and told him the game was up—that it was good -while it lasted, but that it was all over now. I said that the best thing -we could do was to sell our lease on the theatre and cancel our ad. -contracts. -</p> -<p> -But not for a moment did my illustrious partner hesitate. The moment I had -finished, he slapped me on the shoulder and smiled. -</p> -<p> -“Great!” he cried, “why not thought of sooner?” - </p> -<p> -And, in truth, the solution of our difficulty was a master triumph of a -master mind. It was simplicity itself. It made our theatre so popular that -there were riots every night, so eager were the crowds to get in. -</p> -<p> -People long to meet celebrities. If they meet an actor, they are happy for -days after. And after the theatre people crave something to eat. Perkins -merely combined the two. We cut out the eating during the play, and after -every performance our actors held a reception on the stage; and the entire -audience was invited to step up and be introduced to Bedelia O'Dale and -the others, and partake of free refreshments, in the form of sugar-cured -ham, beef extract, fifty-seven varieties of pickles, and thirteen kinds of -breakfast foods, and other choice viands. -</p> -<h3> -THE END. -</h3> -<div style="height: 6em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Perkins of Portland, by Ellis Parker Butler - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PERKINS OF PORTLAND *** - -***** This file should be named 44151-h.htm or 44151-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/1/5/44151/ - -Produced by David Widger - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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