"But here's the trouble: after selecting say two hundred fellows out of an entering bunch of six hundred, and developing the thing each is best fitted for, _father_ steps in and the boy who would have made a first-class professor is put into business and blamed for being impractical. The fellow who has been handling thousands of dollars in college management and running twenty assistants--the man who could have taken the place--has no father to give him the boost necessary, and the other man's failure has queered his chances. He has to go to work as a mere clerk under a man--excuse me, I don't want to do any knocking." "You think the whole trouble is caused by misdirected nepotism." "Yes." "Ah----" It was young Kaufmann again. "But you said that you were trained in advertising on your college paper." "Yes--and I was going to tell you today, if Mr. Pepper hadn't, that the money you're paying for me is utterly wasted." "Ah!" "Yes. I can't look in the face of a hungry designer and beat him down to within a dollar of the cost of materials. And--and--my suggestions upon broader lines don't seem to cause much hooray." "Well--" the junior partner sat up--"since you admit----" He paused for his partner to speak the words of discharge. But Houghton was looking quizzically at the college man. "What was your idea as to broader lines?" Brainard hesitated. "Well, it seemed to me that Pepper is trying to do two things that are antagonistic: be _'elite'_ and sell chewing-gum. The fact is that _elite_ people don't chew gum. I'd like to know how the statement, 'Old Tulu--Best by Test,' will make a kid on the corner with a cent in his fist have an attack of mouth-watering." Kaufmann roused himself. "It is true. Our gum _is_ the best." "I'm not disputing that, but still it's _gum_. If you're trying to increase the vulgar habit of gum-chewing--well--you can't do it by advertising the firm's financial standing, its age, or the purity of its output. That would do for an insurance company or a bank--but _gum_! Who cares for purity! All they want to know is if it _schmeckt gut_." This last with a humorous glance at Kaufmann. The latter was scowling. Brainard was touching a tender spot. "Well, what would you do?" Brainard flushed. He felt the tone of sarcasm in the elder man's voice. He tightened his lips. "At least, I'd change the name of the gum!" "Change the name!" Kaufmann was horrified. "Well, nobody wants 'Old Tulu.' They want 'New Tulu' or 'Fresh Tasty Tulu.' At least, something to appeal to the imagination of Sadie-at-the-ribbon-counter." "Oh!" observed Houghton. "And the name you suggest?" "Well,--say something like 'Lulu Tulu.'" "Gott!" Kaufmann struck the desk a blow with his fist. It was an insult to his father's memory.