“Boggs!” he cried, “Boggs! Now is your chance! Now is your golden opportunity! Advertise, my boy, advertise!”
“What?” asked Silas Boggs, in amazement.
“I say – advertise!” exclaimed Perkins again.
“And I say – advertise what?” said Silas Boggs.
“Advertise what?” Perkins ejaculated. “What should you advertise, but Silas Boggs’s Celebrated Lop-eared Guinea-pigs? What has the world been waiting and longing and pining for but the lop-eared guinea-pig? Why has the world been full of woe and pain, but because it lacked lop-eared guinea-pigs? Why are you happy this morning? Because you have lop-eared guinea-pigs! Don’t be selfish, Silas – give the world a chance. Let them into the joy-house on the ground floor. Sell them lop-eared guinea-pigs and joy. Advertise, and get rich!”
Silas Boggs shook his head.
“No!” he said. “No! I can’t. I have only two. I’ll keep them.”
Perkins seated himself on the wood-pile.
“Silas,” he said, “if I understand you, one of these lop-eared guinea-pigs is a lady, and the other is a gentleman. Am I right?”
“You are,” remarked Silas Boggs.
“And I believe the guinea-pigs usually marry young, do they not?” asked Perkins.
“They do,” admitted Silas Boggs.
“I think, if I am not mistaken,” said Perkins, “that you have told me they have large and frequent families. Is it so?”
“Undoubtedly,” agreed Silas Boggs.
“And you have stated,” said Perkins, “that those families many young and have large and frequent families that also marry young and have large and frequent families, have you not?”
“I have! I have!” exclaimed Silas Boggs, beginning to warm up.
“Then,” said Perkins, “in a year you ought to have many, many lop-eared guinea-pigs. Is that correct?”
“I ought to have thousands!” cried Silas Boggs, in ecstasy.
“What is a pair of common guinea-pigs worth?” asked Perkins.
“One dollar,” said Silas Boggs. “A lop-eared pair ought to be worth two dollars, easily.”
“Two dollars!” cried Perkins. “Two fiddlesticks! Five dollars, you mean! Why, man, you have a corner in lop-ears. You have all there are. Shake hands!”
The two men shook hands solemnly. Mr. Perkins was hopefully solemn. Mr. Boggs was amazedly solemn.
“I shake your hand,” said Perkins, “because I congratulate you on your fortune. You will soon be a wealthy man.” He paused, and then added, “If you advertise judiciously.”
There were real tears in the eyes of Silas Boggs, as he laid his arm affectionately across Perkins’s shoulders.
“Perkins,” he said, “I can never repay you. I can never even thank you. I will advertise. I’ll go right into the house and write out an order for space in every paper you represent. How many papers do you represent, Perkins?”
Perkins coughed.
“Perhaps,” he said, gently, “we had better begin small. Perhaps we had better begin with a hundred or so. There is no use overdoing it. I have over a thousand papers on my list; and if the lop-eared brand of guinea-pig shouldn’t be as fond of large families as the common guinea-pig is – if it should turn out to be a sort of fashionable American family kind of guinea-pig, you know – you might have trouble filling orders.”
But Silas Boggs was too enthusiastic to listen to calm advice. He waved his arms wildly above his head.
“No! no!” he shouted. “All, or none, Perkins! No half-measures with Silas Boggs! No skimping! Give me the whole thousand! I know what advertising is – I’ve had experience. Didn’t I advertise for a position as vice-president of a bank last year – and how many replies did I get? Not one! Not one! Not one, Perkins! I know, you agents are always too sanguine. But I don’t ask the impossible. I’m easily satisfied. If I sell one pair for each of the thousand papers I’ll be satisfied, and I’ll consider myself lucky. And as for the lop-eared guinea-pigs – you furnish the papers, and the guinea-pigs will do the rest!”
Thus, in the face of Perkins’s good advice, Silas Boggs inserted a small advertisement in the entire list of one thousand country weeklies, and paid cash in advance. To those who know Perkins the Great to-day, such folly as going contrary to his advice in advertising matters would be unthought of. His word is law. To follow his advice means success; to neglect it means failure.
He is infallible. But in those days, when his star was but rising above the horizon, he was not, as he is now, considered the master and leader of us all – the king of the advertising world – mighty giant of advertising genius among the dwarfs of imitation. So Silas Boggs refused his advice.
The next month the advertisement of the Silas Boggs Lop-eared Guinea-pigs began to appear in the weekly newspapers of the West. The advertisement, although small, was well worded, for Perkins wrote it himself. It was a gem of advertising writing. It began with a small cut of a guinea-pig, which, unfortunately, appeared as a black blot in many of the papers; but this, perhaps, lent an air of mystery to the cut that it would not otherwise have had. The text was as follows:
“The Celebrated Lop-eared Andalusian Guinea-pigs! Hardy and prolific! One of nature’s wonders! Makes a gentle and affectionate pet. For young or old. YOU CAN MAKE MONEY by raising and selling Lop-eared Andalusian Guinea-pigs. One pair starts you in business. Send money-order for $10 to Silas Boggs, 5986 Cottage Grove Avenue, Chicago, HI., and receive a healthy pair, neatly boxed, by express.”
To Silas Boggs the West had theretofore been a vague, colorless expanse somewhere beyond the West Side of Chicago. Three days after his advertisements began to appear, he awoke to the fact that the West is a vast and mighty empire, teeming with millions of souls. And to Silas Boggs it seemed that those souls had been sleeping for ages, only to be called to life by the lop-eared Andalusian guinea-pig. The lop-eared Andalusian guinea-pig was the one touch that made the whole West kin. Mail came to him by tubfuls and basketfuls. People who despised and reviled the common guinea-pig were impatient and restless because they had lived so long without the sweet companionship of the lop-eared Andalusian. From Tipton, Ia., and Vida, Kan., and Chenawee, Dak., and Orangebloom, Cal., came eager demands for the hardy and prolific lop-ear. Ministers of the gospel and babes in arms insisted on having the gentle and affectionate Andalusian lop-eared guinea-pigs.
The whole West arose in its might, and sent money-orders to Silas Boggs. And Silas Boggs opened the letters as fast as he could, and smiled. He piled the blue money-orders up in stacks beside him, and smiled. Silas Boggs was one large, happy smile for one large, happy week. Then he frowned a little.
For all was not well with the lop-eared Andalusian guinea-pigs. They were not as hardy as he had guaranteed them to be. They seemed to have the pip, or glanders, or boll-weevil, or something unpleasant. The Duke was not only lop-eared, but seemed to feel loppy all over. The Duchess, in keeping with her name, evinced a desire to avoid common society, and sulked in one corner of her cage. They were a pair of very effete aristocrats. Silas Boggs gave them catnip tea and bran mash, or other sterling remedies; but the far-famed lop-eared Andalusians pined away. And, as Silas Boggs sat disconsolately by their side, he could hear the mail-men relentlessly dumping more and more letters on the parlor floor.
The West was just beginning to realize the desirability of having lop-eared guinea-pigs at the moment when lop-eared guinea-pigs were on the point of becoming as extinct