sily enough. It's the same in the
liquor business as in certain others, Claus, you've got to land them
young."

"But, Mr. Ames, I can't take 'em and pour it down their throats!"
expostulated the brewer.

"You could if you knew how," returned Ames. "Why, man! if I had
nothing else to do I'd just like to devote myself to the sales end of
the brewing business. I'd use mental suggestion in such a way through
advertising that this country would drown in beer! Beer is just plain
beer to you dull-wits. But suppose we convinced people that it was a
food, eh? Advertise a chemical analysis of it, showing that it has
greater nutriment than beef. Catch the clerks and poor stenographers
that way. Don't call it beer; call it Maltdiet, or something like
that. Why, we couldn't begin to supply the demand!"

"How would you advertise, Mr. Ames?"

"Billboards in every field and along all railroads and highways;
boards in every vacant lot in every town and city in the country;
electric signs everywhere; handbills; lectures--never thought of that,
did you? And samples--why, I'd put samples into every house in the
Union! I'd give away a million barrels of beer--and sell a hundred
million as a result! But I'd work particularly with the young people.
Work on them with literature and suggestion; they're more receptive
than adults. The hypnotism that works through suggestive advertising,
Claus, is simply omnipotent! How about your newspaper contracts?"

"We have all the papers, excepting the Express, Mr. Ames."

"The Express?" Ames laughed. "Well, that's a new venture. You can
afford to pass it up. It's run by a college professor and a doll-faced
girl."

"But, Mr. Ames, our advertising manager tells me that the publishers
of the Express called a meeting of the managers of all the other city
papers, to discuss cutting out liquor advertising, and that since then
the rates have gone up, way up! You see, the example set by the
Express may--"

"Humph!" grunted Ames. Then he began to reflect. An example, backed by
absolute fearlessness--and he knew from experience that the publishers
of the Express were without fear--well, it could not be wholly
ignored, even if the new paper had no circulation worth the name.

"Mr. Ames," resumed the brewer, "the Express is in every newsstand in
the city. All the boys are selling it. It's in every hotel, in every
saloon, in every store and business house here. It's in the dives. It
isn't sold, it's given a