"The advertising department is the heart and soul of every business,"
said Fulkerson, hardily, "and I like to keep my hand in with a little
practise on the trumpet in private. I don't believe Mr. Dryfoos has got
any idea of the extent of this thing. He's been out among those
Rackensackens, where we were all born, and he's read the notices in their
seven by nine dailies, and he's seen the thing selling on the cars, and
he thinks he appreciates what's been done. But I should just like to take
him round in this little old metropolis awhile, and show him 'Every Other
Week' on the centre tables of the millionaires--the Vanderbilts and the
Astors--and in the homes of culture and refinement everywhere, and let
him judge for himself. It's the talk of the clubs and the dinner-tables;
children cry for it; it's the Castoria of literature and the Pearline of
art, the 'Won't-be-happy-till-he-gets-it of every en lightened man,
woman, and child in this vast city. I knew we could capture the country;
but, my goodness! I didn't expect to have New York fall into our hands at
a blow. But that's just exactly what New York has done. Every Other Week
supplies the long-felt want that's been grinding round in New York and
keeping it awake nights ever since the war.
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