IT was a morning of artistic creation. Fifteen minutes after the purple prose
of Babbitt's form-letter, Chester Kirby Laylock, the resident salesman at Glen Oriole, came in to report a sale and submit an advertisement
disapproved of Laylock, who sang in choirs and was merry at home over games of Hearts
and Old Maid
. He had a tenor
voice, wavy chestnut hair, and a mustache
like a camel's-hair brush. Babbitt considered it excusable in a family-man to growl, "Seen this new picture of the kid--husky little devil, eh?" but Laylock's domestic confidences were as bubbling as a girl's.
"Say, I think I got a peach
of an ad for the Glen, Mr. Babbitt. Why don't we try something in poetry
? Honest, it'd have wonderful pulling-power. Listen:
'Mid pleasures and palaces,
Wherever you may roam,
You just provide the little bride
And we'll provide the home.
Do you get it? See--like 'Home Sweet Home
.' Don't you--"
"Yes, yes, yes, hell yes, of course I get it. But--Oh, I think we'd better use something more dignified and forceful, like 'We lead, others follow,' or
'Eventually, why not now?' Course I believe in using poetry
and all that junk when it turns the trick, but with a high-class restricted development
like the Glen we better stick to the more dignified approach, see
how I mean? Well, I guess that's all, this morning, Chet."
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