a gray
pall over the whole thing, and newspapers and trash blowing against
the front of the building. The gray pall, Randolph had figured from
the sub-scene two weeks ago, was an effect of lights on a net curtain,
but the effect was really good.

The thirteen witches, slender witches, danced in waving their products
and crying their chant, their crimson-lined capes swirling out to
glimpse the audience their long, slender legs.

They cried their chant as they pranced toward the dilapidated
building. "Witches of the world, unite to make it clean, clean, clean,
Witch clean--NOW!" And each threw a spray of her product toward the
building.

"Witch soap or detergent, Witch cleanser upsurgent, which Witch do you
need? You should have them all...."

Then riding over the muted jingle the deep voice of the announcer
saying "Tonight the Witches of the world clean a slum of the world ...
a particular slum, this slum.

"Witches, unite! And clean, clean, clean, Witch clean...."

The dancing witches now threw each her ingredient on the building
itself, and the gray pall began to lighten, a bright, new-painted
front shone forth. Inside, the single bulbs blacked out for an
instant, and then a soft light showed through curtained windows, a
bright new scene dimly apparent through the curtains.

"This is not just an illusion," the deep voice of the announcer
continued. "This is really happening, down near the Battery in New
York City. It is happening to the Joneses and the Smiths who live
there--"

The chorus rose to cover the announcer's voice, "Clean, clean, clean,
Witch clean!"

The commercial and the witches faded, and Bill Howard's big, homely
face came back on the screen.

"Let me introduce you again to the Jones family," Bill said. "I'll
introduce you to the Joneses, but they're just one of the families who
will now have a decent place to live--and the same miracle has
happened to each of these families."

Now the Joneses came again on camera--clean, in new clothes, hair
brushed, a miracle indeed of the costume-changers speedy art. Randolph
assumed that teams of BDD&O members had been at work during the
commercial, creating the miracle. From the baby up and down they
shone, and their faces shone with an inner light--

When Randolph shut off the TV that night, he was chewing his lip
violently. Must have been more than double that fifty thousand
dollars, he thought. He reminded himself to phone BDD&O first thing in