d disappointed them. Its circulation, slowly but
steadily, increased.

"See!" cried the delighted Clodd; "told you so!"

"It's sad to think--" began Peter.

"Always is," interrupted Clodd cheerfully. "Moral--don't think too
much."

"Tell you what we'll do," added Clodd. "We'll make a fortune out of this
paper. Then when we can afford to lose a little money, we'll launch a
paper that shall appeal only to the intellectual portion of the public.
Meanwhile--"

A squat black bottle with a label attached, standing on the desk,
arrested Clodd's attention.

"When did this come?" asked Clodd.

"About an hour ago," Peter told him.

"Any order with it?"

"I think so." Peter searched for and found a letter addressed to
"William Clodd, Esq., Advertising Manager, _Good Humour_." Clodd tore it
open, hastily devoured it.

"Not closed up yet, are you?"

"No, not till eight o'clock."

"Good! I want you to write me a par. Do it now, then you won't forget
it. For the 'Walnuts and Wine' column."

Peter sat down, headed a sheet of paper: 'For W. and W. Col.'

"What is it?" questioned Peter--"something to drink?"

"It's a sort of port," explained Clodd, "that doesn't get into your
head."

"You consider that an advantage?" queried Peter.

"Of course. You can drink more of it."

Peter continued to write: 'Possesses all the qualities of an old vintage
port, without those deleterious properties--' "I haven't tasted it,
Clodd," hinted Peter.

"That's all right--I have."

"And was it good?"

"Splendid stuff. Say it's 'delicious and invigorating.' They'll be sure
to quote that."

Peter wrote on: 'Personally I have found it delicious and--' Peter left
off writing. "I really think, Clodd, I ought to taste it. You see, I am
personally recommending it."

"Finish that par. Let me have it to take round to the printers. Then
put the bottle in your pocket. Take it home and make a night of it."

Clodd appeared to be in a mighty hurry. Now, this made Peter only the
more suspicious. The bottle was close to his hand. Clodd tried to
intercept him, but was not quick enough.

"You're not used to temperance drinks," urged Clodd. "Your palate is not
accustomed to them."

"I can tell whether it's 'delicious' or not, surely?" pleaded Peter, who
had pulled out the cork.

"It's a quarter-page advertisement for thirteen weeks. Put it down and
don't be a fool!" urged Clodd.

"I'm going to put it down," laughed