“Tell me some more of your special inspirations,” I said. “Have you
done anything lately as good as ‘Phast-phix’? But no, how could you?”
“Let me see,” he remarked. “Yes, there is the name for the new pen.
They came to me in a great hurry for that, too. But as it happened
I had that carefully pigeon-holed, for I am always inventing names
against a rainy day. I gave it to them at once--the ‘Ri-teezi.’ You
have no doubt seen it advertised.”
(Haven’t I?)
“That has been an immense success,” he went on. “It’s not a bad pen,
either; but the name! Ah!”
“Anything else out of the way?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I was just going to tell you. I was approached by a
firm with new blacking. All it required was an absolutely knock-out
name. I gave them one, and only yesterday I had a visit from the
Secretary of the Company, who was present at the Board meeting when
my letter was read out. He says that the thrill that ran through the
directors--sober business men, mind you--at that moment was an epoch in
the history of commerce.”
“Indeed,” I remarked; “and what was the name?”
“The name?” he said. “Ah, yes. It was one of my best efforts, I think.
Simple, forcible, instantaneous in its message and unforgettable in
form--‘Shine-O.’”
“Yes,” I said, “that should be hard to beat. I congratulate you.” And
so we parted.