NORT SNIFFS
I had thought the life in the office of the _Star_ exciting enough
before the explosion which resulted in the discharge of Norton Carr, as
indeed it was, but it was really not to be compared with that which
followed. No sooner had Nort returned than his spirits again began to
soar. He felt that he now had Anthy's influence strongly behind him,
and that, no matter what happened, Ed Smith could not interfere with
him. Ed himself accepted the situation as gracefully as he could, and
comforted himself with the reflection that Nort was, after all,
receiving no more wages than before.
Nort had at least one clear characteristic that must belong to
genius--he dared let himself go. He had supreme confidence in himself.
Most men when they spread their wings and sail off into the blue
empyrean more than half expect to fall, but Nort never cast his eye
downward nor doubted the strength of his wings.
I have only to close my eyes to see him, his whole slim, strong body
suddenly stiffening, quivering under the impact of an idea--a "great
idea" it always was with him--his eyes suddenly growing dark with
excitement, his legs nervously bestirring themselves to carry him up and
down the room, while he thrust one hand through his hair and with the
other emphasized the torrent of exclamations which poured out of him. At
these moments he was one of the most beautiful human beings that ever I
have seen. And in the midst of his wild enthusiasms he was as likely as
not, at any moment, to see some absurd or humorous angle of the subject
he was talking about, and to burst suddenly into laughter, laughter at
himself and at us for listening soberly to him. He never let us laugh
first!
One of his early suggestions after he came back was the autobiography of
the old Captain, of which I have already spoken. He knew it would be a
success, as indeed it was, a very great success; but it was only one of
a hundred things which Nort suggested during that winter.
"Say, Ed," he said one day, "why can't we get a new turn on our
advertisements, make 'em interesting!"
Ed looked at him incredulously. "What do you mean?"
Ed considered himself a pastmaster in the art of getting, writing, and
composing advertisements, and he rather resented Nort's suggestion.
"Why," said Nort, "look at 'em! They're all just alike, and nobody cares
to read 'em: 'Respectfully informs,' 'Most reasonable terms,' 'Solicits
continuance!'"
Nort spread open the paper with growing glee. Anthy was already
laughing.
"And look here," he snorted, "'guarantees satisfaction,' 'large and
elegant assortment,' 'lowest prices.'"
"Well," said Ed, "what would you have? They pay their good money for
these ads. It shows that they're satisfied."
"No," said Nort, "it only shows that they don't know any better."
He walked quickly down the room and back again, all our eyes upon him.
"I'll tell you what! Let's publish the picture of every business man who
advertises with us right in the middle of his advertisement, and then
invite our readers to watch for the 'Hempfield Gallery of Business
Success.'"
To this plan Ed had a thousand objections, and the old Captain, much as
he liked Nort, frowned upon it, and even Fergus scowled; but Anthy said:
"Let's see what can be done."
So Nort confidently sallied forth, and went first to John G. Graham,
groceryman, whose advertisements had been a feature of the _Star_ for
twenty years, and who always renewed his agreement with the observation
that he s'posed he'd have to, but he never seen the good it was to him.
He was a large man, as flaccid as a bag of meal, with a rather serious
countenance, hair smoothly reached back, and a big gray moustache. He
was one of the selectmen of the town, and secretly not a little vain of
his position and of his success.
"Your store is one of the best-smelling places in this town," said Nort.
"I always stop when I go by to take a sniff of it. I should think it
would make people who come in here want to buy."
He began to sniff, turning his head first this way and then that. To Mr.
Graham this was a novel and interesting suggestion, and in a moment's
time he also began sniffing in a solemn and dignified way.
"It does smell good," he admitted. "Never thought of it before."
This was the opening that Nort wanted. He began explaining, with an air
of repressed enthusiasm which conveyed a wonderful conviction of the
importance of what he was saying, the new plans of the _Star_. He quite
took Mr. Graham into his confidence.
"We're now going to get the business men of Hempfield talked about, Mr.
Graham," said Nort, bringing down his fist upon the top of a cracker
box. "We're going to make people trade here instead of sending away for
their groceries!"
This was an important point with Mr. Graham. If there was one thing he
hated above any other it was the invasion of Hempfield by the mail-order
houses. So he turned his head to one side, frowning a little, and
listened to Nort.
"Trouble is," said Nort, "your ad isn't interesting. Same thing you've
had for ten years, and people have got so used to seeing it they don't
read it any more. Now those fellows out in Chicago are succeeding
because they know how to advertise. If you keep up with them, you've got
to change your methods. Bring your advertising up to date! I say, let's
_make_ the people read what the business people of Hempfield have got to
say to them."
Mr. Graham frowned still more deeply, wondering what all this meant and
at just what point Nort would ask him to pay something. Mr. Graham was
cynically sure that it would all boil down sooner or later to a question
of money, and he had not lived an entire lifetime in Hempfield without
being equally sure that no one would get a dime out of him without
earning every last cent of it.
Nort tore a sheet of wrapping paper from the roll and put it on the
counter.
"See here now: This is how I'd do it--just for a suggestion." And he
began to write on the paper:
Some of the Good Things one may smell
upon stepping into
JOHN G. GRAHAM'S STORE
Delicious Coffee from Brazil
Molasses from New Orleans
Spices from Araby
"What's Araby?" asked Mr. Graham. "My spices are all from Boston."
"Araby," said Nort, "is where they grow 'em."
"Oh!" said Mr. Graham.
Cookies from Buffalo
Fragrant New Cheese
"What else is it that smells?" asked Nort, lifting up his nose and
sniffing discriminatively.
Mr. Graham also lifted up his nose and sniffed, and then, looking at
Nort, solemnly remarked:
"Kerosene and codfish."
"Wouldn't make the list _too_ long, would you, Mr. Graham?"
"S'pose not, s'pose not," said Mr. Graham.
When you come into our Store
SNIFF--Then BUY.
Our prices are the lowest
"How's that, now?" exclaimed Nort, stepping back and observing his work
with delight. "Try that experiment, Mr. Graham, and then watch the
people as they come into the store. Just watch 'em. They will all be
sniffing like pointer dogs! You'll _know_ then that they have read your
advertisement."
A smile broke gradually over Mr. Graham's countenance. Nort's picture
touched his slow imagination, and he could actually see old Mrs. Dexter
coming in with her basket, sniffing like a pointer dog. Nort had given
him something brand new in a humdrum world--and funny. In the country
there is always such a consuming and ungratified need of something to
laugh at. Any one who can make the country laugh can have his way with
it.
Nort saw that he was winning, and pursued his advantage closely. He
explained with perfect assurance his plan of publishing what he called
the "Hempfield Gallery of Business Success," a portrait with each
advertisement; and, having already opened Mr. Graham's imagination just
a crack, was able now to enter with his larger plans. Having got a
tentative promise to try this extraordinary innovation, and innovations
were like earthquakes in Hempfield, Nort rushed over to see Mr. Tole,
the druggist, and using Mr. Graham as an opening wedge, got Mr. Tole to
the point of saying, "I'll see." Then he went into Henderson's drygoods
store and, using the promises of both Mr. Graham and Mr. Tole, worked
Mr. Henderson into what might be called a state of reluctant
preparedness. Every time he got a new man he went back to all the others
with the news, until they began to think themselves a part of the
conspiracy--and Mr. Graham afterward considered himself the real
originator of this daring scheme for the uplift of Hempfield.
From the way Nort worked at this scheme, coming back after each assault
to tell us with glee of his experiences, one would have thought he was
having the time of his life, as, indeed, he was. It was still a great
joke to him; and yet I saw his eyes often turn toward Anthy, eagerly
seeking her approval. And Anthy would sit very quiet in her chair,
looking at Nort with level eyes, smiling just a little, and once or
twice after he had turned away, I saw that she still kept her eyes upon
him with a curious, questioning, wistful look. Fergus saw it, too,
always watching silently from the cases.
Well, we launched the "Hempfield Gallery" with tremendous effect. Nort
had not only increased the number of advertisements but had actually
succeeded in getting all the advertisers to pay for making the cuts of
themselves. It was really very effective; and Ed, now that the plan was
launched, was able to sell many extra copies of the paper. As for Nort,
that irrepressible young rapscallion was in the highest of spirits. And
every day when he came down the street he would look in at Mr. Graham's
store:
"Sniffin', are they, Mr. Graham?"
"They certainly _are_ sniffin'," that ponderous grocery man would
respond.
Both would then sniff solemnly in unison, and Nort would go on down the
street laughing. A new joke in Hempfield! I do not wonder that he got
them.
[Illustration]