Читать книгу Andy Blake in Advertising - Edward Edson Lee - Страница 7

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The following morning Mr. Hazzel bustled into his store bright and early. Under his directions one of the clerks knocked the heads from four barrels and placed the barrels in front of the store. Then Hazzel and the clerk carried brooms by the armful until the four barrels were crammed. The following sign was attached to the awning:

BROOMS 44c.

THESE ARE BETTER BROOMS THAN YOU WILL PAY 46c. FOR AT SO-CALLED SALES

“There, I guess that’ll fix Landers,” chuckled Hazzel, arranging the sign so that any one passing into the Landers’ store across the street could easily read it. “If the people want to buy bargain brooms, I guess they’ll buy where they’re the cheapest. I’ll get the business and Landers’ll have the fun of payin’ for the advertising. He won’t be so quick to advertise special sales after this.”

Chuck Wilson was around that morning an hour before his usual time. Having helped Andy arrange the “Mother Goose” window display in Landers’ window, he was much interested in the broom sale. When he saw Hazzel’s sign his eyes grew big and round and he scooted across the street. As he tumbled pell-mell into the Landers store Andy grabbed him by the collar.

“Chuck, you’re the very fellow I want to see. I’ve arranged with Mr. Landers for you to do my ‘trick’ on the delivery wagon while I stay here in the store and help sell the brooms. Oh, boy! This is going to be a busy place in an hour or so. That little old ad that you and Bud helped me work out for yesterday’s Gazette is attracting all kinds of attention.”

“The sale’s going to be a fizzle,” cut in Chuck excitedly.

Andy regarded his companion narrowly.

“Say, how do you get that way? A fizzle? Not so you notice it, you poor fish. Why, the Gazette was hardly off the press yesterday afternoon before we had a dozen or more telephone calls from women asking us to save them brooms. That’s a pretty fair indication that the sale is going to be a success, I’ll say. Of course we may not sell all the thousand brooms we have in stock; but if we sell seven hundred or eight hundred the sale will be a money-maker. And still you come kicking in here like a buffalo on a stampede and yell ‘fizzle’! You’re crazy!”

“Well, you just squint across the street at the sign on old Hazzel’s awning and I guess you’ll say the same thing,” sputtered Chuck.

When Andy saw the barrels of brooms and the sign he was nonplused.

“The old cheat!” he exclaimed impetuously.

Denny Landers scratched his tousled head when he learned of the scheme of his competitor to cut in on the broom sale.

“Sure, we can get back at him and undersell him by markin’ our brooms down to forty-two cents,” he suggested.

Andy shook his head doubtfully.

“I don’t believe that would be good business. We’ve advertised the brooms at forty-six cents, and it would seem to me that if we made another cut, just to compete with Hazzel, the people will lose confidence in us. They’ll wonder why we didn’t price the brooms at forty-two cents in the first place.”

“I believe you’re right, lad,” said the Irishman slowly. “Sure, we’ll stand by our price of forty-six cents. And it’s thinkin’ I am that maybe the brooms’ll move, regardless of the exceptional inducements of the magnanimous gintleman across the street. Maybe the people will not be so kindly disposed toward his little scheme to spoil our sale as he figures. I’m a bit dense on this advertising stuff, Andy; but I’ve learned from experience that the public appreciates fair dealing and resents one merchant ‘knocking’ another. It strikes me that Hazzel’s scheme is more of a ‘knock’ on our brooms than a ‘boost’ for his own. I may be wrong. We’ll just stand our ground and see how the thing pans out.”

Andy was hopeful that the sale would be a success, as Landers was inclined to predict, but at the same time he was oppressed with anxiety. He was soon to learn that the human mind can be influenced as readily by sentiment as by logic. Certainly Hazzel’s efforts to induce the people to purchase his brooms was not entirely satisfactory. Women who frequently traded at his store stiffened indignantly when they read the sign, entirely ignoring its logical, money-saving appeal.

“Huh!” one lady exclaimed with flashing eyes. “I’d rather pay Landers two cents more than I would to buy my broom from him. He cut the price on his brooms because he had to; Landers did it voluntarily, to help us save money.”

Chuck Wilson and Bud York dropped into the store when Landers and Andy were about to close and call it a week. Upon learning that eight hundred and sixty brooms had been sold, Bud gave a joyful shout and pegged his cap at a June bug circling around the brilliant electric light.

“Oh, boy! Some sale!”

“I just met old Hazzel on his way home,” put in Chuck gleefully, “and he was stomping along as sourlike as you please. I said: ‘Good evening, Mr. Hazzel! Hope you had good luck with your broom sale,’ and he glared at me.”

Denny Landers overheard this and grinned. As he passed to the rear of the store he stumbled over a stepladder and knocked an article from the shelves.

Ka-bump! Ka-bump! Bump! Bump! Bump!

“Divil take the fellow who left that ladder there,” sputtered Landers, recovering his balance.

“Did you hurt yourself, Mr. Landers?” inquired Andy, pausing in his task of covering counters in the front part of the store to make sure that the clatter and exclamation indicated no real damage.

“Sure, and I damaged my dignity considerable,” retorted Landers, turning to pick up the article that had been knocked down.

“One of the danged ouija boards,” he growled. A scowl clouded his face as his thoughts turned back to the previous autumn when a glib-tongued salesman had persuaded him to put in a stock of ouija boards, pointing out that the country was ouija board crazy and that the boards, being a novelty, would move rapidly during the holidays. Of the hundred boards that he had purchased, ninety-seven were still collecting dust on the shelves.

As he stood there, with the ouija board in his hand, a thought flashed into his mind that changed his scowl to a whimsical smile. Here was a chance for Andy! His pride in his promising young assistant did not prevent him from enjoying a joke at Andy’s expense. His eyes twinkled as he crooked a beckoning finger.

“It’s a real job that I’ve got for you now, Mr. Advertising Andy. Sure, we’re goin’ to have a ouija board sale.”

Andy stared at Landers for a moment and then burst into a hearty laugh.

“You really mean it?” he questioned, his eyes sparkling.

Landers hadn’t; but Andy’s spontaneous enthusiasm fired his own. After all, why not? Let the boy see what he could do.

“Sure,” he affirmed, with a grin. “The danged things cost me seventy-six dollars, and it’s a happy man I’d be to git rid of them at a dollar each. Hazzel said when I bought them that he’d never fill up his store with a lot of junk like them, and he’s been givin’ me the laugh ever since. Let’s show him once more what a little advertising can do, Andy boy.”

Andy chuckled. He shared Landers’ dislike for the pompous owner of Cressfield’s other general store.

“All right, Mr. Landers, we’ll do it,” said he emphatically. Still chuckling, he called to Chuck and Bud, who were in the front part of the store swatting flies. “Hey, fellows, come here.”

He climbed up the stepladder and handed down several of the ouija boards, blowing the dust in Chuck’s face.

“What are they?” coughed Chuck. “Wooden valentines?”

“They’re ouija boards. They tell you all about who you’re going to marry and how many grandchildren you’re going to have and things like that,” grinned Andy as he hopped down. “Here, let me show you how to do it. See, you place the tips of your fingers on the little heart-shaped thing and ask a question. Pretty soon it begins moving and answers your question.”

“Some one ask a question,” suggested Chuck.

“All right,” returned Andy, winking at Bud. “Here’s a good one: ‘Ouija, will Chuck Wilson ever have any brains?’” Almost instantly the board pointed to “no.”

“Aw, shucks, you moved it,” said Chuck disgustedly.

Bud scratched his head.

“Are you giving the straight dope about wanting us to sell this junk?” he asked, turning to Landers.

“I’ll be grateful to the man who helps me git rid of the danged things,” returned Landers earnestly. “Sure, I’ve tried to sell them time and again but they seem to be about as popular as a small boy with the measles.”

“You’ve handed us a real job,” said Bud. “I can think of things to say to interest people in ribbons and brooms, but I’ll be hanged if I know anything favorable to say about a ouija board.”

“We’ll think about it overnight and get together to-morrow,” suggested Andy. “If there’s a way to sell ouija boards without getting into jail or the insane asylum, we’ll find it.”