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Updated: May 27, 2025
For the seventh time: DEAR T. A.: They've fallen for Featherlooms the way an Eskimo takes to gum-drops. My letter of credit is all shot to pieces, but it was worth it. They make you pay a separate license fee in each province, and South America is just one darn province after another. If they'd lump a peddler's license for $5,000 and tell you to go ahead, it would be cheaper.
Why, child, in our town, nobody carries a cane except the Elks when they have their annual parade, and old man Schwenkel, who's lame. And yet we all accepted that yellow walking-stick of Buck's. It belonged to him. There isn't a skirt-buyer in the Middle West that doesn't dream of him all night and push Featherlooms in the store all day.
"Um-m-m-m ye-ee-es," assented Emma McChesney, with no alarming enthusiasm. "Jock dear, carry me back to bed again, will you? And then open the closet door and pull out that big sample-case to the side of my bed. The newest Fall Featherlooms are in it, and somehow, I've just a whimsy notion that I'd like to look 'em over." Temptation himself is not much of a spieler.
She entered Emma McChesney's office, now, in her quiet blue suit and her neat hat, and she looked very sane and cheerful and rosy-cheeked and dependable. At least, so Emma McChesney thought, as she kissed her, while the plump arms held her close. Ethel Morrissey, the hugging process completed, held her off and eyed her. "Well, Emma McChesney, flourish your Featherlooms for me.
Say I want to speak to the tailor who fits Mr. Ed Meyers, of the Sans-Silk Skirt Company." T. A. Buck leaned forward, mouth open, eyes wide. "Well, what in the name of " "I'll let you know in a minute. Maybe I'm wrong. It's just one of my hunches. But for ten years I sold Featherlooms through the same territory that Ed Meyers was covering for the Sans-Silk Skirt people.
He said the Strauss Sans-silk skirt isn't what it used to be. And he's right." "Oh, say " objected Ed Meyers. "It's true," insisted Hattie. "But I couldn't tell him that I didn't buy Featherlooms because McChesney made me tired. Besides, she never entertains me when I'm in New York. Not that I'd go to the theater in the evening with a woman, because I wouldn't, but Say, listen.
The only kind of advertising that is advertising is the kind that makes the reader say, 'I'll have one of those." T.A. Buck threw out helpless hands. "What are we going to do about it?" "Do? I've already done it." "Done what?" "Written the kind of copy that I think Featherlooms ought to have.
"You've given enough to this firm. Play a while. Cut up. Forget you're the 'And Company' in T.A. Buck & Co." "But I'm so used to it. I'd miss it so. You know what happened that first year of our marriage when I tried to do the duchess. I don't know how to loll. If you take Featherlooms away from me I'll degenerate into a Madam Chairman. You'll see."
"Don't, old girl! It's going to work out splendidly, I'm sure. After all, those chaps do know best." "They may know best, but they don't know Featherlooms," retorted Emma McChesney. "True. But perhaps what Jock said when he walked with us to the elevator was pretty nearly right.
Buddy McChesney, aged six months, is going to be the only male protector around the place. We'll make him captain of the home guard." "Gertie was in to-day. She says I'm a shrimp in my uniform compared to Charley. You know she always was the nerviest little stenographer we ever had about the place, but she knows more about Featherlooms than any woman in the shop except you.
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