CHAPTER VIII Babbitt | ||
III
However intimate they might be with T. Cholmondeley Frink as a neighbor, as a borrower of lawn-mowers and monkey-wrenches, they knew that he was also a Famous Poet and a distinguished advertising-agent; that behind his easiness were sultry literary mysteries which they could not penetrate. But to-night, in the gin-evolved confidence, he admitted them to the arcanum:
"I've got a literary problem that's worrying me to death.
you've often bent-an-ear to that spill-of-speech about
hopping from five to f-i-f-t-y p-e-r by "stepping on her
a bit!'' Guess that's going some, all right—BUT—
just among ourselves, you better start a rapidwhiz system
to keep tabs as to how fast you'll buzz from low
smoke spirits to tip-top-high—once you line up behind
a jimmy pipe that's all aglow with that peach-of-a-pal, Prince Albert.
more-ish in flavor; always delightfully cool and fragrant!
For a fact, you never hooked such double-decked,
copper-riveted. two-fisted smoke enjoyment!
thing! Why—packed with Prince Albert you can play
a joy'us jimmy straight across the boards! And you
know what that means!''
"Now that,'' caroled the motor agent, Eddie Swanson, "that's what I call he-literature! That Prince Albert fellow—though,
Frink faced him: "Oh, you're crazy! Have I got to sell you the idea of Style? Anyway that's the kind of stuff I'd like to do for the Zeeco. But I simply can't. So I decided to stick to the straight poetic, and I took a shot at a highbrow ad for the Zeeco. How do you like this:
the hills and far away for every man or woman that
has red blood in his veins and on his lips the ancient
song of the buccaneers. It's away with dull drudging,
and a fig for care. Speed—glorious Speed—it's more
than just a moment's exhilaration—it's Life for you
and me! This great new truth the makers of the Zeeco
Car have considered as much as price and style. It's
fleet as the antelope, smooth as the glide of a swallow,
yet powerful as the charge of a bull-elephant. Class
breathes in every line. Listen, brother! You'll never
know what the high art of hiking is till you TRY
LIFE'S ZIPPINGEST ZEST—THE ZEECO!
"Yes,'' Frink mused, "that's got an elegant color to it, if I do say so, but it ain't got the originality of `spill-of-speech!' '' The whole company sighed with sympathy and admiration.
CHAPTER VIII Babbitt | ||