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Updated: June 12, 2025
We're handling Stomachine and Relief Pills from here, but the pills are made in Cincinnati, and we market 'em under another trade name." "Stomachine is for stomach troubles, I assume," said Hal. "What are the Relief Pills?" "Oh, a female remedy," replied his father carelessly. "Quite a booming little trade, too. Take a look at the Certina collection of testimonials."
As soon as a symp-letter is read the girl marks it with the form-letter number, underscores the address, and it goes across to the letter room where the right answer is mailed, advising the prospect to take Certina. Orders with cash go direct to the shipping department. If the symp-writer wants personal advice that the form-letters don't give, I send the inquiry upstairs to Dr. De Vito.
Sure you won't have a drink?" "No, thank you." "Don't drink much myself," announced the testimonial-chaser. "Just once in a while. Weak kidneys." "That's a poor tribute from a Certina man." "Oh, Certina's all right for those that want it. The best doctor is none too good for me when I'm off my feed."
In a room like a bank vault were great masses of testimonial letters, all listed and double-catalogued by name and by disease. "Genuine. Provably genuine, every one. There's romance in some of 'em. And gratitude; good Lord! Sometimes when I look 'em over, I wonder I don't run for President of the United States on a Certina platform."
What's the worst thing about doctors' doses? They're nasty. The very thought of 'em would gag a cat. Tell people that here's a remedy better than the old medicine and pleasant to the taste, and they'll take to it like ducks to water. Certina is the first proprietary that ever tasted good. Next to Old Lame-Boy, it's my biggest idea." "Are we going into the mixing-room?" asked his son.
Come around to the office, man, and let me show you." Still suspicious, Mr. McQuiggan permitted himself to be led away, expatiating as he went, upon the unrivaled location and glorious future of his mining property. From time to time, Dr. Surtaine jotted down an unostentatious note. The first view of the Certina building dashed Mr.
In fact we're required to." "What does the guaranty mean?" "That whatever statement may be on the label is accurate. That's all. But the public takes it to mean that the Government officially guarantees Certina to do everything we claim for it," chuckled Dr. Surtaine. "It's a great card. We've done more business under the new formula than we ever did under the old." "What is the formula now?"
"Dr. De Vito, an Italian. Nobody else can get into the Rookeries to see a case. O'Farrell's the agent, and he sees to that." "Tip O'Farrell, the labor politician? I know him. And I know De Vito well. In fact, he does part-time work in the Certina plant. I'll tell you what, Hal. I'll just make a little expert investigation of my own down there, and report to you."
More than once the more personal note was touched, and the girl spoke of her coming to the Certina factory, a raw slip of a country creature tied up in calico, and of Dr. Surtaine's kindness and watchfulness over her. "He wanted to do well by me because of the old man my father, I mean," she caught herself up, blushing. "They knew each other when I was a kid." "Where?" asked Hal.
"Here, you!" shouted the leading citizen thus injuriously designated, but the other's voice slashed through his protest like a blade through pulp. "Certina! Ho-oh! Warranted to cure consumption, warts, heart-disease, softening of the brain, and the bloody pip! And what is it? Morphine and booze."
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