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The door slammed behind him. "Whew!" whistled Sam Hupp, passing a handkerchief over his bald spot. Bartholomew Berg reached out with one great capable hand and swept toward him a pile of papers. "Oh, well, you can't blame him. Advertising has been a scream for so long. Griebler doesn't know the difference between advertising, publicity, and bunk. He'll learn.
I've talked you to death, haven't I? Lordy, it's midnight! And I want to get down early to-morrow. Conference with Mr. Berg, and Hupp." He tried not to sound too important. Emma McChesney took his head between her two hands and kissed him once on the lips, then, standing a-tiptoe, kissed his eyelids with infinite gentleness as you kiss a baby's eyes. Then she brought his cheek up against hers.
Nothing had been left untouched. Every angle had come under the keen vision of the advertising experts the comfort of the garment, its durability, style, cheapness, service. Which to emphasize? "H m, novelty campaign, in my opinion," said Hopper, breaking one of his long silences. "There's nothing new in petticoats themselves, you know. You've got to give 'em a new angle." "Yep," agreed Hupp.
"All the hundred dollars all by herself, Jane?" I called after them. "Yes," floated back positively in the wake of the Hupp. For several hours I attended to the business of my life in a haze of meditation.
Big Sam Hupp, who was the pet caged copy-writing genius of the place, used even to bring an occasional example of Jock's business badinage into the Old Man's office, and the two would grin in secret. As when they ran thus: Pepsinale Manufacturing Company: Mr. Bowser is the kind of gentleman who curses his subordinates in front of the whole office force. Very touchy.
A moment of silence, except for the sound of the busy pencil traveling across the paper. Jock, glaring at the semi-bald spot, spoke again. "Of course, Mr. Hupp, if you're too busy to see me " "M-m-m-m," a preoccupied hum, such as a busy man makes when he is trying to give attention to two interests. " why I suppose there's no sense in staying; but it seems to me that common courtesy "
He braced himself to present the convincing, reason-why arguments with which he had prepared himself. Whereupon Sam Hupp, the brisk, proceeded to whisk his breath and arguments away with an unexpected: "All right. What do you want to do?" Jock's mouth fell open. "Do!" he stammered. "Do! Why anything "
Just as Henrietta had taken a last peep at the clock on the hall table and gone to answer Sallie's call to come and help Aunt Dilsie in the bedding of the Kitten and the Pup, Polk's Hupp stopped at the gate, and he and Jane came up the front walk in the twilight together. She had on his flannel coat over her linen one and his expression was one of glorified and translucent daze.
Emma McChesney, secretary of the T.A. Buck Featherloom Petticoat Company, that Sam Hupp noticed a rather cocky over-assurance in Jock's attitude toward the world in general. Whereupon he sent for him. On Sam Hupp's broad flat desk stood an array of diminutive jars, and bottles, and tiny pots that would have shamed the toilette table of a musical comedy star's dressing-room.
So we figured that they'd pick a real top-notcher even Hopper, or Hupp, maybe and start out with a bang. So when the Old Man called me into his office this morning I was as unconscious as a babe. Well, you know Berg. He's as unexpected as a summer shower and twice as full of electricity. "'Morning, McChesney! he said. 'That a New York necktie you're wearing? "'Strictly, says I.
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