Private John Allen takes a deep interest in the advertising business. Advertisements that he deems exceptionally good he clips out and pastes in a scrap-book. As he was showing this scrap-book to a guest one day, he said:
But the best ad I know of is not in here. For it wasn’t written, but spoken. It earned its originator some thousands of dollars, yet I can never show it. I can only describe it, and description fails to do it justice.
It was the work of a clothier in Nashville. He had, with his partner, the first establishment in town, and the business of the firm was considered very prosperous. The two men had married sisters, and their relationship was more than friendly. Hence the greatest surprise overtook Nashville when the junior partner suddenly took out a summons and hauled his senior into court.
The senior partner is ruining the business, gossip said. He is getting softening of the brain, or paresis, or something of that sort. Now is the height of the spring season, when they ought to be making money hand over fist, but the senior’s cracked methods are spoiling everything.
So all Nashville took a tremendous interest in the case, and on the morning it was called, the courtroom was crowded as in a murder trial.
The junior partner’s complaint was presented strongly and directly. He showed that goods were being sacrificed at a fraction of their value, and he asked that this ruinous trading be stopped, lest ruin ensue.
The defendant’s lawyer, an able fellow, secured an adjournment for three weeks.