Kitabı oku: «The Bread Line: A Story of a Paper», sayfa 6
"No r'spect f'r that chap!" he said thickly, shaking his head, "no r'spect wh'tever. He's 'n old stuff – 'at's w'at he is – no r'spect wh'tever."
"Oh, come, Bates, brace up! If it hadn't been for the Colonel you'd have been on the floor! Brace up, now; we want to talk business!"
Perner spoke sharply, and it had the effect of bringing the solicitor partly to his senses. The proprietors of the "Whole Family" had been indulgent heretofore – even submissive; he could not afford to disturb these conditions – not yet. Barrifield and Van Dorn also regarded him severely. Livingstone, disgusted, walked over to the window and looked down on the street.
"We have been getting up our ads," continued Perner, "and we want them placed right away. We've left the selection of the places to you, but if you're going to attend to it you've got to brace up and answer some questions. What we want to know is whether this advertising is going to pay us – pay right away, I mean – so enough returns will come in to cover the investment as soon as it's out."
The effect of this on Bates was certainly remarkable. By the time Perner had finished speaking, except for a slightly heavy look in his eyes and a trifling uncertainty as to consonants, you could hardly have told he had been drinking.
"Gen'lemen," he said with great conviction, "there is no question about it. I've been in the adve'tising business ten years, an' I know what I'm talkin' about. You've got a beautiful paper, gen'lemen, beautiful. I sat up t'll one o'clock las' night reading it. All it wan's is adve'tising. No question about it, gen'lemen."
Barrifield looked across triumphantly at Van Dorn. Bates was all right when it came to business. They read him the advertisements, of which he approved heartily. Later, he began telling them of some vast sum appropriated by an artificial food company for advertising purposes and of which he would secure for them a handsome slice.
Perner listened a moment; then he drew a paper from his pocket.
"Oh, by the way, Bates," he asked, "what does this mean? This contract you left here last night reads, 'Two lines, two insertions, for two dollars.' What does that mean?"
Bates stared a moment; then he took the paper and pretended to examine it very carefully. A moment later he chuckled.
"Why, yes," he owned, "that's so. I never noticed that b'fore. S'pose I got to writin' twos an' couldn't stop. Should have been 'forty' in the blank b'fore 'dollars.' Have it fixed t'-morrow."
He pocketed the contract and rose to go. Barrifield and Perner again looked across at each other with satisfaction. Bates took a step toward the door. Then it was observed that his self-control had been but temporary, or perhaps had not extended to his legs. He staggered, reached for the knob, missed, and plunged helplessly into the corner in a heap. They helped him up, brushed him, and steadied him down-stairs. As they came back to the studio Van Dorn remarked disgustedly:
"Well, smart men that drink, or no smart men, I wouldn't hire another man like that."
"But wasn't it wonderful how he braced up when it came to talking business?" insisted Barrifield.
"Yes; he's all right on business," agreed Perner; "but I am with Van on the drink question."
"I'm with the Colonel," said Livingstone.
XII
A LETTER FROM MISS DOROTHY CASTLE OF CLEVELAND TO MR. TRUMAN LIVINGSTONE OF NEW YORK
"My dear True: Your last letter, and package containing 'dummy' of the first issue of the 'Whole Family,' so far as complete, came last night. I have read every word in it – the 'Whole Family,' I mean (and your letter, too, of course) – over and over. I think it splendid (both splendid). The stories and drawings are all of the very highest order, if I am any judge, and the 'make-up' and all beautiful. (I am talking of the paper this time.) There is a little typographical error on the fourth page, – in the second column, just below the first paragraph, – but I know Perny will find that before you go to press. Of course, I think your drawings are the best, but Van's are fine, too. I think all of you ought to be proud of such a beautiful first issue, and I am sure you will be able to keep up the standard, for, as Barry told Perny, it will go like clockwork when you get to going.
"You mustn't get discouraged, True. Your letters, lately, have been rather blue sometimes, and I know just how you feel. But, whatever you do, stick it out to the end. Don't think for a moment of giving it up; don't do it, True, after putting in as much thought and time and money as you have already. For, after all, as you once said, True, money is a great thing, – a lot of money, – you can do so much with it; and now, when we are almost at the turn of the tide, is the very time to pull hardest and get over the bar. Even if it takes every cent you can scrape together to pay you through, put it in, and if it takes more than that I can buy a share and put in a little, too, for I have five hundred dollars that papa gave me last August when I was twenty-one, and I will have five hundred more soon, because I am not going away at all this summer, and papa is going to give me, in money, what it would cost.
"I thought of going at first, and then I kept putting it off from week to week, and remembered you working away there in the heat for me, and I made up my mind at last that I wouldn't go, either. Besides, our home is cool and beautiful, and I am alone, and can do as I please, and not have to dress and go and be torn to pieces. Next summer we will go together.
"So you see, True, I will have a thousand dollars of my own, and if your assessments take more than you have I will send it to you, and you can invest it for me. I had intended to buy things for our house with it, but we won't need it by that time, and the success of the paper now is the all-important thing. I did not care so much at first, but now it has gone along so well, and with all the new plans and such a beautiful paper as you can get up, I want to see it make the success and fortune for you that I am sure it must. Besides, True, won't it be fine to own our interest together?
"I know, of course, that there are many unpleasant things about it, – some, I suspect, that you don't tell me of, – and that it isn't altogether the money that bothers you; but you must put up with the burden and suspense a little longer, and with Bates, who must be a dreadful nuisance, though he surely means well and works hard to get so much advertising. I should love to meet the Colonel. The first little sketch you sent me of him I have pinned up over my desk, and when I read your letters about him I look up at it and laugh and imagine just how he looks and acts. What a beautiful model he must make for the picture, and how glad I am you are working at it so enthusiastically again! Perhaps that is one reason why you are less interested in the paper, and worried over the annoyances that must always come with the more practical pursuits of life.
"You see, True, I think a good deal about all these things, and I realized even from the first that a nature like yours is not at all suited to hard and shrewd commercial enterprise, though this is not quite that, either, and the hard days will soon be over. Work right along on the picture, True, but don't think of giving up your interest in the paper. The picture will rest and comfort you now, and the paper will furnish the means of rest and comfort by and by. Then, when that time comes, perhaps I shall be able to add happiness to your life, too, and together in our beautiful home we will add happiness to the lives of others. Good-by, True. Stick fast, and remember that I am
"Always your
"Dorothy.
"P.S. True, I can send the money any time, and you must let me do it if you find it will be needed. I do not offer it as assistance, but claim the opportunity of investment.
"Dorry."
XIII
THE HOUR OF DARK FOREBODING
With the first days of September the tension became more severe. Bills sprang up from every quarter like mushrooms, and while no one of them was very large the accumulation was considerable. The humors of the enterprise were not altogether lost sight of, however, and still furnished some relief, though there was a manifest touch of bitterness in many of their whimsicalities. There were moments of individual doubt and discouragement also – not as to the final outcome, but as to their ability to exist until such time as the crumbs which they were sowing so lavishly upon the outgoing waters should return in good brown loaves. Indeed, these were likely to be needed presently, for they were economizing at every point, and the dairy lunch and cheap table-d'hôte places served most frequently their needs. There were no more go-as-you-please dinners, and those of the past were remembered with fondness and referred to with respect.
It may have been that this system of diet resulted in clearer mental vision, or it may have been that Perner's early business training really manifested itself feebly at last, and set him to thinking logically. Whatever it was, he suddenly came out of his den into the studio, one afternoon, looking rather pale and startled. He had been through a hard day with printers and engravers, as well as voracious collectors, whose bills had an almost universal habit of error on the wrong side. The others knew the conditions and did not suspect anything unusual when he flung himself down on the Turkish couch and stared up at the skylight. Then at last he said:
"Boys, it's a failure. It won't work!"
The others looked around quickly.
"What is it? What's a failure?" They spoke together.
"The 'cash for names'; it's a fallacy."
"How? Why? Won't they do it?" This from Van Dorn.
"Oh, yes; they may, and will, probably; but we won't!"
"Oh, pshaw! Perny, what are you talking about?"
Van Dorn was becoming a little impatient – it was his scheme. Perner rose to a sitting position on the couch.
"Why, look!" said he. "We send the paper free for two weeks to each of the twenty names sent by each subscriber. That's forty papers free for every subscriber that comes."
"Of course," admitted Livingstone; "but some of those twenty names – most of them – will subscribe."
"Certainly; and each one that does so will send twenty more names, which means forty more free papers – forty papers besides the fifty-two they are to receive afterward, or ninety-two papers in all. Ninety-two papers will cost us, mailed, something like seventy-five cents; the premium will cost us at least fifty cents more, even where we charge for postage and packing. Then there is the twenty-five cents cash we pay to the sender of names. Total, one dollar and fifty cents outlay, for which we receive one dollar cash in return."
Perner looked steadily first at Livingstone, then at Van Dorn. Neither of them answered for a moment, and both became a trifle grave. Then Van Dorn said:
"But the advertising, Perny – you forget that. Even if we do lose money on subscriptions the first few months, we can afford it for the sake of a subscription list that will swell the advertising returns."
"By gad, yes," said Livingstone. "That's so – the advertising!"
Perner lay back on the couch wearily.
"Yes," he admitted; "the advertising ought to help. I keep forgetting that. I wish Bates would make a statement, though, of just what he's done in that line. He talks enough and seems to be getting along. He's kept pretty straight lately, too."
"Why don't you call on him for a statement?" asked Livingstone.
"Well, I have meant to, but he's so peculiar, you know, and I didn't want to offend him."
"No; of course, we can't afford to do that now," Van Dorn agreed. "We're under obligations to Bates for placing our advertising with Jackson. I don't believe anybody else would have taken it without money down. Bates having worked there once is the reason he did it."
Livingstone was painting on his picture of the bread line.
"I've a mind to make one of these fellows look like Bates," he laughed, "out of gratitude."
"Do it," urged Perner. "He'll be there some day if he keeps on drinking."
"How much advertising did we take, in all?" asked Van Dorn, presently.
Perner went somewhat into detail in his reply:
"Well, you see, we made the 'Sunday-School Union' a page instead of a half-page so we could get in the big cut of the Bible, and we took a half-page instead of a quarter in 'Boy's Own' so's to get in the gun and the camera, with a small cut of the watch. Then we took a page each in two school papers to get in the gun and Bible both, and the small cuts of the watch and camera. All these, of course, are in addition to what we had counted on before. It amounts to about thirteen hundred dollars in all."
There were some moments of silence after this statement. None of them had any superstition concerning this particular number of hundreds, and the amount was pitifully small compared to the figures they had used from time to time so recklessly in estimating their returns. For some unexplained reason, however, the sudden reality of the sum, and the dead certainty that this was not a mirage of champagne or a fancy of smoke, but a hard, cold fact that had to be met with money, caused the two listeners to have a cold, sinking sensation in stomachs that were none too full. Van Dorn was first to recover. He said with weak cheerfulness:
"Oh, well, it isn't a third what Frisby took, and he didn't have a dollar."
"Sure enough!" rejoiced Livingstone. "Lucky we don't have to pay it now though." There was another period of silence; then he added, "What time is it getting to be, Perny?"
As there was no immediate answer to this, Livingstone wheeled half-way around from his easel for the reply, and saw Perner studying somewhat solemnly the dial of one of the fat "Whole Family" watches. Perner usually carried a rather elegant gold time-piece, a memory of his business career, and the only one in the party. Livingstone was about to comment on its absence, but was restrained by a sudden delicacy. Perner's watch might be out for repairs, or he might be wearing this ridiculous affair out of loyalty to the paper; but these were troublous times, and there was the possibility of still another solution of the matter.
"Five o'clock," decided Perner, at last, "lacking four minutes. I suppose I'm through with the leeches for to-day."
The words were barely uttered when the door opened and a boy entered with bills in one hand and a letter in the other.
"I spoke a little too soon, it seems," Perner concluded, taking the envelop which the boy had extended uncertainly toward each of them in turn.
The envelop contained a brief communication – also a bill. Perner held the latter in his hand while he ran his eye hastily over the former. Then he glanced at the amount of the bill, and Van Dorn, who was watching him, saw that he was rather white. He turned to the boy quite carelessly, however.
"You may leave these. We will attend to them to-morrow." Then, as the collector vanished, he looked up at Van Dorn with, "It's the bill for the advertising. We are to pay before it goes in."
Van Dorn half rose to his feet. Livingstone gasped.
"Listen," said Perner, and he read the letter to them:
"OFFICE OF JACKSON & MARSH, ETC
"New York, September 2, 1897.
"Publishers of the 'Whole Family,' New York.
"Gentlemen: We hand you herewith net bill of your advertising, cash discount being taken off as per your instructions through Mr. Bates. Upon receipt of your check for the amount we will give our final O. K. to the various periodicals, most of which are now ready for the press. With thanks for your order, we ask, therefore, that you kindly be very prompt, and greatly oblige,
"Yours, etc.,
"Jackson & Marsh."Per C."
Perner looked up from the letter at Van Dorn. The artist regarded him a full minute in silence. Then he said huskily:
"Don't that beat hell?"
"It does," groaned Livingstone. "Bully for Bates!"
XIV
A LETTER FROM MR. TRUMAN LIVINGSTONE OF NEW YORK TO MISS DOROTHY CASTLE OF CLEVELAND
"My dearest Dorry: I have not written to you as promptly as usual, because there have been other things that had to be attended to a good deal more promptly, and there was an uncertainty about everything lately that made whatever I might say to you more or less guesswork. I mean about the paper. It seems that 'cash terms' doesn't mean when the advertising is out, after all, but before it goes in, and this misunderstanding made matters about as lively as anything you can imagine in the financial department of the 'Whole Family' office for a day or two. I think Bates was mostly to blame, but we couldn't say anything to him because it would expose the weakness of our capital; and then, we did tell him that we wanted to pay cash, though I am sure he knew we understood that that meant to pay as Frisby did – when advertising came out.
"However, we got through with it. We thought at first we'd have to capitalize, but Barry sold a small piece of property he had somewhere, and the rest of us skirmished about where we could. I did not let you know, because I have made up my mind to go through with this as I began, whatever happens. It can't take a great deal more now until it begins to come our way, and what you have said about sticking it out is the right thing, and I mean to follow it to the letter. With your money, however, it is different. That is just your own, and as for having an interest in the paper, if I stay by it, as I mean to, and get through safely, as I'm sure I can, you will have that anyway. We are going right ahead now with matter and pictures for the second and third issues, and if it were not for the salaries and rent and incidentals we could feel pretty easy, for Barry says he is sure we can get 'the first round of the first issue' from 'the man who stands with his sleeves rolled up, wiping his hands on the prehistoric towel while he talks,' without the money down.
"That, of course, will be all we need, for as soon as the first few thousand papers are out there will be plenty of money coming in for everything. Then we can take it easier, and, as you say, Dorry, it is worth putting up with a good deal to be able to have means for everything afterward. We all appreciate that, now, and Perny says he is looking forward to the day when he can have some other kind of dessert besides hard-baked, barber-pole ice-cream, which is what they give us at the little table-d'hôte place where we have been eating dinner lately.
"The Colonel is as good-natured and jolly as ever. He poses for me whenever I want him to, and allows me to lend him a dollar now and then, which I am sure comes in handy, for the money he is expecting hasn't come yet. We give him a little salary now, too, though we had to insist on his taking it. But he is enthusiastic and a great help, and deserves it. He is getting the circulation books ready, and has bought himself some new clothes, though, fortunately for my picture, he doesn't always wear them.
"I am still working on it a little every day, and have been down to the 'line' one or two evenings. For some reason, however, the work doesn't seem to have quite the feeling the first sketch had – I mean quite the feeling of forlornness and destitution. Van says it's because I've seen the 'line' lately in warm weather, when the men are only hungry and not cold. That must be so, I think, and I am not going to finish it entirely until it gets cold again, so I can get back all that wretchedness we saw on last New Year's eve. Perhaps that sounds cruel to you, but it is the artist's way to make capital out of the emotions of others, and anyhow, dear, this isn't like 'Prometheus Bound,' that we used to read at school, for it does nobody any harm and may even do good.
"It's likely to be cold and bitter almost any time after the 1st of October, but it ought to be very cold, – I mean in the picture, – and there should be snow or sleet. I think sleet would be better – a driving, stinging sleet, and a deadly hard look on the pavement where the light reflects. There is something in the way a man crouches and shrinks from sleet that you never quite get any other way. Of course, I don't want it to sleet on those poor fellows, but I know it will, and when it does I must be there to see it.
"You see, the boys think this is the best thing I have done, and I can't afford to fail on it at the end, though I'd like to have it all done by Christmas, and it may not sleet before January, or even then. But I'm not going to worry over it, – think about it, I mean, – for, as I said, I wouldn't really want it to be very cold and sleet at all, if I could help it, only I know I can't.
"How good and noble you are, Dorry! When I think about your not having gone away this summer on my account, it makes me ashamed of myself, for really we have had a jolly time here in town. Van says that even if we never get anything else out of the paper, we have had a million dollars' worth of fun, and it's about so. I am sorry I have ever seemed discouraged or out of patience with things, for it made you have a lot of sympathy with me, and though I liked it, of course, and wanted it, I knew I didn't deserve it at all.
"I am glad, though, that the struggle will be over now in a few days. Our first advertising – the 'cash for names' – comes out on the 15th, and the rest – the premium offers – about the 25th. Also in our own sample copies. So you see, before the 1st of October the wheels will be turning very fast. Of course, we may not have quite the great rush we expect, but even if only half it will be enough.
"Good-by, sweetheart. I wish we might be together these beautiful September days. The parks are fine now in the early morning. Next year we will get up and walk out in them together.
"With all my heart,
"True."
