The Washington herald., 1915-09-05

Mother. Jock broke out hotly,
"why in the name of all that's foolish
do you persist in using the methods
of Methuselah! People don't sell
goods any more by sending out fat
old ex-traveling men to jolly up the
trade
lock-" repeated Emma McChesney
slowly, Observation-Disclosures"
1t was a grim little meal. eaten
almost in silence. Emma McChesney
had made It rule to use luncheon
time as a recess. She played mental
tag and hop-scotch, so that, returning
to her Office refreshed in mind and
body, she could attack the afternoons
worl; with new vigor. And never did
she talk or think business.
Today she ate her luncheon with
forced appetite, glanced about with
a listlessness far removed from her
usual alert interest, and followed
Jocks attempts at conversation with a
polite effort that was more insulting
than downright inattention-
Dessert, Mother" Jock had to say
it twice before she heard.
"What? Oh. no-I think not
The waiter hesitated, coughed dis
crectly. lifted his eyebrows insin-
uatinGly. The French pastry's par
ticularly nice today, madam. If you'd
care to try something? Eclair, madam
peach tart-mocha tart-caramel-"
Emma McChesney smiled. 1T does
sound tempting She glanced at Jock.
And we're wearing our gowns so
foppy this year that it makes no diff
ference whether ones fat or not" :"
She turned to the waiter 81 never can
tell till see them. Bring your pastry
tray, will you2'
Joel; McCLesney's finger and thumb
came together with snap. He leaned
across the table toward his mother,
eyes glowing, lips parted and eager.
There, you've proved my point"
Point"
About advertising. No, don't stop
me. Don't YOU see that what applies
to pastry applies to petticoats? You
didn't think OF French pastry until he
. suggested it to you-advertised it,
really And then yol wanted a pic
ture OF them. You wanted to know
what they looked like before buying
That's all there is to advertising. Tell
ing people about thing, making 'em
want it, and showing em how it will
look when they have it. Get ne.'
Emma McChesney was gazing at
Jock with a curious, fascinated stare
1t was blank little look, such as we
sometimes wear when the mind is
working furiouSly. 1t the insinuating
waiter, presenting the laden tray for
her inspection, was startled by the
rapt expression which she turned
upon the cunningly wrought wares,
he was too much a waiter to show it.
4 pause. That one" said Mrs Nc
CheSney pointing to the least ornate
She ate it. down to the last crumb,
in silence that was pregnant with
portent. She put down her fork and
sat back
Jock, You win. II suppose | have
fallen out of step. Perhaps I've been
too busy watching my own feet. T.
4. will be back next week Could your
office have an advertising plan rough
ly sketched by that time?'
Could they" His tone was ex-
ultant. Watch EN-! Hupp's been
crazy to make Featherlooms famous"
But look here, son. l want a hand
in that copy. l know Featherlooms
better than your Sam Hupp will
ever"
Jock shook his head. They won't
stand for that, Mother 1t never works.
The manufacturer always thinks he
can write magic stuff because he
knows his own product. But he
never can. You see, he knows too
much. That's it. No perspective"
We'll see," said Emma McChesney
curtly.
So it was that ten days later the
first important conference in the in
terests of the Featherloom Petticoat
Company's advertising campaign was
called. But in those ten days of hur-
ried preparation a little silent tragedy
had come about. For the first time in
her brave, sunny life Emma McChes-
| ney had lost faith in herself. And
with such malicious humor does Fate
work her will that she chose Sam
Hupp's new dictagraph as thu instru-
ment with which to prick the bubble of
Mrs. McChcsney's self-conhdence.
Sam Hupp, one of the copy-writing
| marvcls OF the Berg. Shriner firm, had
trick OF forgetting 10 shut off GER
tain necessary currents when he
paused in his dictation to throw in
conversational asides. The old and ex-
perienccd stenographers. had learned
TO look out for that, and to eliminate