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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 **