“You find some of our pages dull?” asked Banneker, always interested in any new view.
“Well, your market page ain’t no scream. You gotta admit it.”
“People don’t usually want to laugh when they’re studying the stock market,” growled Edmonds.
“Surprise ’em, then. Give ’em a jab in the ribs and see how they like it. Pictures. Real comics. Anywhere in the paper that there’s room for em.”
“There’s always a cartoon on the editorial page,” pointed out Banneker.
“Cartoon? What does that get you? A cartoon’s an editorial, ain’t it?”
Russell Edmonds shot a side glance at Banneker, meaning: “This is no fool. Watch him.”
“Makes ’em think, don’t it?” pursued the visitor. “If it tickles ’em, that’s on the side. It gets after their minds, makes ’em work for what they get. That’s an effort. See?”
“All right. What’s your aim?”
“Not their brains. I leave that to Mr. Banneker’s editorials. I’m after the laugh that starts down here.” He laid hand upon his rotund waistcoat. “The belly-laugh.”