Читать книгу Andy Blake in Advertising - Edward Edson Lee - Страница 6

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Andy’s ribbon sale, an innovation in Cressfield’s merchandising circles, did two definite things:

It gave Denny Landers a new viewpoint on advertising, as a potent factor in the building up of his business; and it set the other merchants in the little town to talking and speculating.

Hitherto Landers and his fellow merchants had advertised in the Gazette in a spasmodic, half-hearted way, as though they were of the opinion that it was a duty, necessary to the life scheme of the struggling weekly newspaper, rather than an opportunity.

So Andy’s full-page ribbon advertisement, and the success that accompanied the sale, created something of a furor up and down Main Street. It set the minds of Landers’ competitors agog, and started other merchants to thinking in terms of creative advertising. A few were antagonistic to the new order of things, principal among them Mr. J. P. Hazzel, the pompous and portly proprietor of Cressfield’s oldest and most conservative retail store.

On Thursday evening, in the week following the appearance of Andy’s ribbon advertisement, Mr. Hazzel settled into his chair at the supper table and unfolded his newspaper. Following the habit of years, he turned to page three where his two-inch, double-column “announcement” usually appeared in the lower right-hand corner. What was his amazement to find another Landers’ advertisement staring him in the face. This “broom sale” advertisement was the biggest thing in the newspaper. Anger and resentment gripped the man as he read it.

“Andy Blake wrote that advertisement,” informed Mrs. Hazzel from the head of the table as she poured the tea. “I hear tell as how Landers is going to let him put on Friday and Saturday sales each week.”

“Landers’ll find himself in the poorhouse if he goes lettin’ a seventeen-year-old boy with crazy advertising ideas run his business,” sputtered Hazzel. “It’s plumb foolishness.”

“Maybe it’s foolishness, and maybe it isn’t,” put in Mrs. Hazzel pointedly.

Hazzel permitted his scowl to travel across the table.

“What do you mean?” he demanded sharply.

“Well, wasn’t Andy’s ribbon sale a success?” his wife countered. “It was bound to be a success—I knew it as soon as I picked up the Gazette last week and read his advertisement. There was something about the advertising that just made me want to go down town to Landers’ store and see those ribbons. And this broom sale is going to be a success, too. Look at the big saving: a sixty-cent broom for forty-six cents. I feel like going down to-morrow and buying some of the brooms myself.”

Hazzel stared at his wife in angry amazement.

“You’re talkin’ foolishness,” he growled. “I tell you this thing can’t keep up. Every one of those page ads costs Landers fourteen dollars. What if he does sell more stuff than he would if he didn’t advertise? It takes the profit on a good many dollars to pay for a fourteen-dollar ad. Besides, his sales will fall off later on, due to his customers buyin’ ahead.”

“And so will your sales fall off if his do,” pointed out Mrs. Hazzel quickly. “Certainly if the people stock up on brooms to-morrow and Saturday you won’t sell one-tenth as many during the next six months as you ordinarily would.”

When aroused to a point of indignation Hazzel had a habit of puffing out his red cheeks. Just now he appeared to be very much inflated.

“If you’re tryin’ to argue me into advertising you might just as well save your breath,” he sputtered. “I built up my business without advertising and I ain’t goin’ to spend my money for something I don’t need. If I handle good merchandise and deal honestly and courteously with my customers, printed advertising is unnecessary.”

Mrs. Hazzel sighed. She had much of that progressive spirit that her husband seemingly lacked, and this was not the first time she had tried to argue him from his conservative stronghold.

“I’ve heard you say that a thousand times. But with Landers advertising these special sales, conditions are going to be different. I think you ought to advertise, too.”

“Well, I won’t,” snapped Hazzel stubbornly.

“No; you’d rather have a chit of a boy get the start of you and take the business right from under your nose,” was his wife’s parting shot as she disappeared into the kitchen.

When darkness settled in and the elm trees along upper Main Street seemed to harbor goblinlike shadows, Hazzel strolled down town. His attention was attracted by several people grouped about the display window of the Landers store. Sensing that the attraction had something to do with the broom sale he crossed over. The window, he found, was cleverly decorated with a “Mother Goose” cut-out, astride a broom. A window card read:

Mother Goose knows a good broom when she sees it. That is why she uses one of our bargain brooms to sweep the cobwebs off the sky. Why not do YOUR “brushing” with one of our brooms and save money? Regular 60c. brooms on sale Friday and Saturday at 46c. each.

“Huh! Some more of Andy Blake’s work, I suppose,” grunted Hazzel as he stomped along toward home. Even after he was in bed his thoughts centered on the coming broom sale. He had the feeling that if Landers persisted in advertising he, too, would be compelled to advertise. At length a happy thought came to him and he dropped to sleep with a chuckle.