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The ABC and X Y Z of
ADVERTISING
A SERIES OF TEN TALKS ON AD'ERTtSINtf M > 1
written by Seymour Ealoa •! A” V ■ X
A story is told of a prisoner who called the
a fool. The judge fined him $lO He paid the fine
but asked: “Do you fine people for thlnkmg your
Honor?" The judge answered in the negative.
“Well," he said, “I think you re a fool still
If I should print my personal opsnion erf some big
advertisers like as not I'd get fined but it is perfectly
safe to think.
If a traveler came to you and talked of the stuff
which his house pnnts as advertising you would put
him down at once as an :diot.
The talk is unnatural; sounding brass and a
tinkling cymbal: unreal, insincere, dead* The reader
feels that it isn t the advertiser who is talking: that
there really isn t anybody talking; that the words are
just printing.
Good advertising is good talk; the frank, honest
kind that convinces.
An advertisement of one hundred words should
make the reader think five thousand words; and
herein is the whole secret of good copy. It isn't what
you say that counts but the chain of thought which
your advertising creates.
The more you fuss over yctir advertising copy the
poorer the result. It isn't a job to stutter about or to
apologize for or to burn midnight oil over. If you
want to make an advertising hit all you need to do
is to talk to the reader of the newspaper as you talk
across the counter to a customer.
Two Irishmen chased a wild-cat up a tree. Pat
went up to shake him off while Mike remained below
to catch him when he fell. Both were successful, but
Mike and the wild-cat Avere soon in a rough and
tumble scrap below. Pat called out “Shall Oi come
douwn an’ help you howld him, Mike?" “Naw!
Bcgorra, come douwn, Pat, an’ help me let him go.”
Advertising is a wild-cat up a tree. Once you
have shaken him off, the problem of “letting go" is
quite as difficult as the problem of “howlding on.”
But w'hat you need in either case is nerve; and a
reasonable assurance regarding the future.
It rarely pays to splurge. Make your appropria
tion deliberately and carefully. Prepare good copy.
Advertise continuously; every day or at least every
week. Your store is the seed or the plant. The
advertising is the rain and the sunshine. You can’t
rush the growth. It may take weeks or months to
produce flowers or fruit.
(Copyright. by Trlbuii* Company, Chicago.)
the visiting
cards
which The Progress
prints are all the rage
just now —they’re neat
v-m - pretty and stylish. All
you want for 75 cents
A Business Proposition
I wish to invite every man and boy in Butts coun
ty, as well as the traveling public, whether they
are rich or poor, merchant, farmer or mechanic,
millionaire banker or of the common people,
who comes to Jackson, visit my humble but
Decent and First class Barber Shop.
I have a first class barber with me in the person
of Mr. Eugene Harris who is a native Butts coun
ty man, who first saw the light near our historic
suburb, Stark. We have a stream of city water,
absolutely pure, running through our shop in a
quantity copiously plenty which keeps our cir
cular fans whirling, and our bath tubs filled with
clean water, so you can not only get first class
tonsorial service, but obey the first law of health
or hygene all in one visit. Ladies willl please re
member that we are experts in bobbing little girls
hair. With a promise of fair and courteous treat
ment to ALL, we are yours for BUSINESS
L. L. WHITTEN.
An Untamed Marquis.
The* father of the Marquis of Bute
had an amusing experience in the
neighborhood of Rothesay. lie met a
cockney traveler who asked to he di
rected to a certain place. Deceived
by the marquis' accent, the visitor took
him for a southron and took occasion
to make supercilious remarks about
the barbarous islander* of Bute. He
said. "Blime me, I suppose you’re like
me. an Englishman';”
"No," responded the marquis; "I"m a
native of Bute, this island.’’
"Good graciousi" exclaimed the Lou
doner, in amazement. "Then who in
the dooce tamed ver?”
Lord Bute assumed a fierce expres
sion and, raising a ponderous cudgel
he was carrying, said angrily, "Who
says I’m tame?" The alarmed cock
ney turned and fled.-Tall Mall Gazette.
Two Cures ror tho Slues.
"What do j'ou do when you have the
blues’;” asked the first woman.
"I walk up Fifth avenue and look in
all the jewelers' windows and at the
orchids and high priced hats. What do
you do’;"
”1 go wa/ down to Uivington street
and look at the wretched poor women
with seventeen children struggling in
the dirt. That makes me thankful my
affairs are no worse.” New York
Press.
Its Worth.
The actress, having been arrested for
running her automobile seventy mites
an hour, was describing the superb car
to a reporter.
Tbe young man Inquired:
. "llow much did you say it was
worth ?"
“At lenst two columns on tbe front
page." she answered absently.—Kan
sas City Independent.
Shut Her Off.
First Denf Mute (making signs)—
Did your wife complain because you
stayed out till after midnight? Second
Deaf Mute (chuckling)—Did she? You
should have seen her! But when it
begun to get monotonous I just turned
out the light
Two Questions.
“Why don't we see men like the nov
elists describe?**
"I give It up. Why don’t we see
girls like the Illustrators draw?”—
Louisville Courier-Journal.
Followed the Load.
Teacher—Where do we obtain coal,
Freddie? Freddie—From the coal beds,
miss. Teacher—Right! Now, Jimmy,
where do we obtain feathers? Jimmy—
From feather beds, miss.
Ruffled His Feathers.
Artist (showing frier;! his master
piece >— Now. my boy. that is a picture,
if you iike— real and natural. What da
you think of if; Friend—Capital! Cap
ita.!: h'o lifelike! Such light and
shade! I don't think I ever saw a bet
ter picture of a battlefield. Artist-
Great Paul Rubens! That's not a bat
tiefleld—that’s a basket of fruit!—Lon
don Standard.
Reduction.
The old nag was jogging up the hill
with the elopers.
"Yes,” said the old nag, "it is rather
tough pulling them up to the parson
age. but it will he easier coining back.”
"How so?" queried tbe friendly goose
at the roadside.
"Why. can’t you see that after leav
ing the parsonage two will be mado
one?”—Chicago News.
The Editor Regrets.
Office Boy—The editor says he's much
obliged to you for allowing him to see
your drawings, but much regrets he is
unable to use them. Fair Artist (eager
ly)—Did he say that? Office Boy
(truthfully)—Well, not exactly. He just
said: “Take ’em away. Pimple. They
make me sick.”—London Tatler.
Shipping Money Away.
It C. reported on reliable authority
that no less than $71,000,000 has. beeii
sent out of this country to Europe in
the past year by immigrants who nrc
afrald to trust their savings to Ameri
can banks. Americans are- Indignant
because these immigrants earn money
here and ship it out of the country.
But there are thousands of natives
living in the small cities and towns
and on the farms who make a prac
tice of shipping money out of their
communities to the mall order stores
fn the big cities, and many of these*
persons are Inclined to criticise the
immigrants mentioned. It always
looks better to spend your money In
the neighborhood where you earn it. on
general principles.
Ths Knockers’ Club.
Hrar old SI Brown run down his town:
"It hain’t no good at all;
It’s the peskiest place fer ths human raos
On this terreschul ball."
fl wonder why old 81 don't quit
This town—hs might git up an' git.)
Hear old HI Jones—he whines an’ groans:
"They hsin't no use to stay
In slch a town; I'm like Si Brown—
This hors old place don't pay."
(I wonder why old HI don't chase
Himself an' Itnd soma other place.)
Hear oM Sid Smith—to kin an' kith
He makes a dally cry:
“This hurg I hats with Its slow poke gait.
I wtsnt It wus mors spry."
<1 wonder why old Sid don’t hike
Right spry some roomin' up th* pike.)
T. SAPP. JH
Ths Cleanest Town.
The* cleanest town in the world is
said to be Broek. in Holland. It is
only a few miles from the capital and
lias been famous for its cleanliness
from time immemorial. It is also
notable on account of the fanciful
style of its houses and yards and gar
dens and streets. The people, thougli
only peasants, are well to do. and all
feel a pride in their town. It seems
to be the lirst business of their lives
to keep their houses freshly painted,
their gardens in perfect order and
their yards and ’streets as clean as a
parlor. No carts are allowed in the
streets and no cattle, though the rais
ing of stock and the making of butter
and cheese ore their occupations.
Brutally Frank*
Scribbles—When I take a dislike to a
man I use him as the villainous char
acter In one of my novels. Criticus—
Ah, I see! You punish the poor fellow
by burying him alive, as it were.
Why They Fly.
Bobby—Mamma, do the streets of
heaven flow with milk and honey?
Mamma—So the Bible says. dear. Bob
by—And is that why the angels have
wings, ’cause the walkin’s so bad?
Obedience is better than sacrifice.—
Shu kespeare.
The Colored Brother’s Reason.
Booker T. Washington told the story
of a negro pastor who was having
eeme difficulty with bis flock.
"The old fellow came to me and
asked me to help him out,” said Mr.
Washington. “I went down to the lit
tle backwoods country church with
bhn one Sunday. Incidentally 1 took
occasion to inquire among the parish
ioners a little and found that they had
not paid the old man his salary.
“Upon this basis of Information I
started in to admonish tbe members
of the congregation. I told them that
they should pay their pastor; that he
had to live; -that M had to have hi#
salary.
“All in all, I was making a pretty
rood speech. I had moat of the con
gregation convinced. I think.
"Bat there was one old fellow in
the back of the church that was mum
bling, during my talk. He would snick
er a little and duck bis eyes below the
old soft hat be held up to his face. ‘We
ain’t goln’ to pay ’im any more salary
this year.’ , .
"The old fellow became so obstrejk
erou# that I remonstrated with him.
“ ‘Brother, why are you not going to
pay your pastor any more salary this
yearr I asked him.
“‘Because we done paid him for
them same sermons last y'ar,’ was the
•WcialTe reeootuMt **