Then U would follow,
TU;
Then P,
TUP;
Until at last there stood complete, across the sky, this cheerful message to all who felt the burthen of life’s earnestness:
TUPPER’S TONIC WINE FOR VIGOUR.
Snap! and it had vanished into night, to be followed in the same slow development by a second universal solicitude:
BEAUTY SOAP.
Not, you remark, mere cleansing chemicals, but something, as they say, “ideal;” and then, completing the tripod of the little life: