I had thought of a great idea to profit by agitation against the high cost of living. The idea had come to me when reading a story in a business paper which had said that it was not high cost of living we were suffering from, but cost of high living, and, instead of buying things in bulk as we used to do, we bought in packages and had to pay a whole lot of money for the package—and the advertising of them. It had said also that the modern housewife was lazy and would not do things for herself if she could get them done by some one else, and that she thought more of tango teas than toting baby carriages. The article had finished up by saying: "How many housewives do you know, Mr. Reader, who will make their own soap, do their own washing, bake their own bread, and such like housewifely accomplishments which our parents and grandparents took pride in performing?" Now, it hadn't seemed to me that that was quite fair to the housewives. Betty, for one, was no tango-trotter. Well, my brilliant foozle of an idea had been to make a splurge on bread mixers. I had always carried one or two in stock, but never had done much with them. So I ordered three dozen as a starter, that is, two cases, and I got a really good price on them. Then I ran an ad. in the paper, saying that it had been I then asked every one to buy a bread mixer, bake a loaf of bread with its aid, and leave it at the store. I also stated that I would turn all the bread baked over to the hospital, and I offered an electric chafing dish for the best loaf baked. I concluded by saying that three prominent citizens would be the judges. I had determined to surprise every one by this stunt, but when it came out no one was quite so surprised as I was at its reception. When I took the ad. to the newspaper office the fellow grinned as I handed it to him. "Good idea, isn't it?" I said. "Some idea all right, Mr. Black," said he. Next morning, when I arrived at the store, Charlie Martin was waiting for me with a paper in his hand. Said he, "Mr. Black, did you put this in?" "Sure," I answered. "I thought perhaps Stigler was trying to get at you in some way," said Charlie. I went hot and cold all over, for I felt right then and there that I had made a big mistake. "Who's your committee of three prominent citizens?" he then asked. "I have not picked them yet," I said rather sheepishly. "But," said Charlie, "a citizen may be prominent without knowing much about bread. Incidentally, "Well," I remonstrated, "those people who can't bake bread won't send in loaves." "I am inclined to think," said Charlie, "that they are just the people who will. And, incidentally, you insist on every one buying a bread mixer before sending in a loaf. Why don't you try the same thing with ice cream freezers? Insist on them spending a few dollars to buy an ice cream freezer, and submit a dab of ice cream for a contest?" "I wish I had talked it over with you, now, Charlie," I blurted out. "So do I," said Charlie. Just then the telephone bell rang. Larsen answered and said it was for me. Mr. Barlow was at the telephone. "Say, Dawson," he began, "who worked up that brilliant ad. you have in the paper this morning?" "I did," I said, feeling pretty cheap, somehow. "Did you find the women all lined up on the doorstep this morning, ready to buy bread mixers?" he asked. "What's the matter with the idea?" I said. "Nothing, it's a great idea. I'm going to advertise traction engines among the farmers, and offer a prize of two eggs to the farmer who makes it hoe a row of potatoes quickest." "You are carrying the idea to a point of absurdity," "Ask Charlie Martin; I guess he can help you," he answered. "And say, Dawson, I don't want to hurt your feelings; but, if I were you, I would not try any more brilliant stunts without talking them over with Charlie or some one else first. The bulk of your ideas are fine, you know, but occasionally you slip a cog." I hung up the receiver, then turned to Charlie and said: "I thought I had a pretty good idea." "You had a good idea," he said, "but worked it out incorrectly. It is such a bald attempt to sell bread mixers. You don't give any reason why they should buy bread mixers. The only reason you ask them to buy the mixers is to enter the contest. Now, the better-class women won't do it, and the poorer people have not money to buy mixers." "I never thought of that," I said. "Then, again," said Charlie, "you have, or had, quite a good customer for hardware in the Empire Bread Company. I wonder what they will think of you urging people to stop trading with them?" "Good heavens!" I gasped. "I never thought of that, either." "Evidently not," said Charlie. "I am going right down to see them," I said, and I seized my hat and, before he could say another word, I was on my way to see Mr. Burgess of the Empire Bread Company. When I arrived at Mr. Burgess' office I heard him and Stigler (Stigler above all people) laughing. The boy told Burgess I was there, and I was asked to go right in, which, like a fool, I did. "How-de, Black?" said Stigler. "Have yer just I ignored him and turned to Burgess and said: "I didn't know you were engaged—I will wait until you are through." "Don't bother, Black," said Stigler, "I am going now," then, turning to Burgess, he added: "All right, Mr. Burgess, I'll see that yer have them things this afternoon." My heart sank when I heard those words, for the Empire Bread Company was a good steady customer of mine—one of the best, in fact. Burgess used to trade with Stigler, but they got at cross purposes over something and the business had come to me, and had been with me for over six months. "Say, Mr. Burgess," I began, as soon as Stigler had left the room, "I'm awfully sorry for that ad." "Don't you be sorry, Black," he said, "it will probably be good business for you. In fact, I think we will have to enter a loaf of bread in that contest ourselves. It might be good advertising for the Empire Bread Company to win the thirty-cent cheese dish, or whatever it is, that you are giving for making the best loaf of bread." "I don't know how I ever did such a foolish thing," I said; "but I want you to know that I shall advertise to-night that the contest is abandoned on account of inability to get together the committee of judges." "Hm!" said Burgess. "I can just imagine the people saying, 'I guess the Empire people got after him. That is why he is squealing.' Still, you know your own business best. And now please excuse me, for I am very busy." "And," smiled Burgess, "you think it is bad business to risk losing ours?" "Why—partly—I certainly didn't want to hurt your business," I said. "Believe me, Black, a thing like that won't hurt our business; but it's good to change at times, so we have switched over to Stigler for a little while. Some day, perhaps, we will give you a chance at some more of our business; and now you really will have to excuse me." I found myself walking back to the store feeling very disconsolate, indeed. I decided that, at any rate, I would not risk any more advertising on that wretched bread-making contest, until I saw what was going to happen. Charlie met me near the post office. "I guess we have lost the Empire account, haven't we?" he asked. I groaned. "Well, cheer up, Mr. Black, we all make mistakes—and it will be forgotten in a day or two. But—" and then he hesitated. "Go on, Charlie," I said, "I really want to get your advice." "All right, then. If I were you, Mr. Black, whenever you plan any advertising, see first of all that it is not going to hurt any one else's business; next, whenever you run a prize contest, run one without any strings attached to it; and, when you give a prize—give something other than what you sell." "Do you believe in prize contests?" I asked Charlie. "What about the 'Globrite' flashlight?" I said. "That prize contest complies with the three rules I mentioned. The prizes were cash prizes and big ones. The public didn't have to buy anything to enter. The prizes were big enough to tempt people to study 'Globrite' goods, and that really advertised the flashlights to every contestant." Somehow, Charlie's quiet confidence made me feel better. But, candidly, I hated to be seen on the street those days, for everybody asked me how the bread-making contest was getting on. At the end of three days, we had not sold a single bread mixer! |