I agreed with him.
“Tell me some more of your special inspirations,” I said. “Have you done anything lately as good as ‘Phast-phix’? But no, how could you?”
“Let me see,” he remarked. “Yes, there is the name for the new pen. They came to me in a great hurry for that, too. But as it happened I had that carefully pigeon-holed, for I am always inventing names against a rainy day. I gave it to them at once—the ‘Ri-teezi.’ You have no doubt seen it advertised.”
(Haven’t I?)
“That has been an immense success,” he went on. “It’s not a bad pen, either; but the name! Ah!”
“Anything else out of the way?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I was just going to tell you. I was approached by a firm with new blacking. All it required was an absolutely knock-out name. I gave them one, and only yesterday I had a visit from the Secretary of the Company, who was present at the Board meeting when my letter was read out. He says that the thrill that ran through the directors—sober business men, mind you—at that moment was an epoch in the history of commerce.”
“Indeed,” I remarked; “and what was the name?”
“The name?” he said. “Ah, yes. It was one of my best efforts, I think. Simple, forcible, instantaneous in its message and unforgettable in form—‘Shine-O.’”
“Yes,” I said, “that should be hard to beat. I congratulate you.” And so we parted.