as it
ever supposed that any man believed an advertisement? Sit down and
write the truth, and see what it will be! The statement will show
itself of such a nature that you will not dare to publish it. There
is the paper, and there the pen. Take them, and see what you can make
of it."

"I do think that somebody should be made to believe it," said Jones.

"You do!" and Robinson, as he spoke, turned angrily at the other.
"Did you ever believe an advertisement?" Jones, in self-defence,
protested that he never had. "And why should others be more simple
than you? No man,--no woman believes them. They are not lies; for it
is not intended that they should obtain credit. I should despise the
man who attempted to base his advertisements on a system of facts,
as I would the builder who lays his foundation upon the sand. The
groundwork of advertising is romance. It is poetry in its very
essence. Is Hamlet true?"

"I really do not know," said Mr. Brown.

"There is no man, to my thinking, so false," continued Robinson, "as
he who in trade professes to be true. He deceives, or endeavours to
do so. I do not. No one will believe that we have fifteen hundred
dozen of Balbriggan."

"Nobody will," said Mr. Brown.

"But yet that statement will have its effect. It will produce custom,
and bring grist to our mill without any dishonesty on our part.
Advertisements are profitable, not because they are believed, but
because they are attractive. Once understand that, and you will cease
to ask for truth." Then he turned himself again to his work and
finished his task without further interruption.

"You shall sell your stockings, Mr. Brown," he said to the senior
member of the firm, about three days after that.

"Indeed, I hope so."

"Look here, sir!" and then he took Mr. Brown to the window. There
stood eight stalwart porters, divided into two parties of four each,
and on their shoulders they bore erect, supported on painted frames,
an enormous pair of gilded, embroidered, brocaded, begartered wooden
stockings. On the massive calves of these was set forth a statement
of the usual kind, declaring that "Brown, Jones, and Robinson, of 81,
Bishopsgate Street, had just received 40,000 pairs of best French
silk ladies' hose direct from Lyons."

"And now look at the men's legs," said Robinson. Mr. Brown did
look, and perceived that they were dressed in magenta-coloured
knee-breeches, with magenta-coloured stockings. They were gorgeous
in t