31st Of February Read Online Free PDF Page A

and Lessing with it. When the copywriter was at the door he called him back. “I say, have you got a mother’s only son in there? Nephew of Sir Malcolm Buntz, answers to the name of Greatorex?” Lessing nodded. “What’s he like?”
    “Nondescript but harmless. I kept him happy looking at our old ads in the guard books.” Lessing giggled again. “He kind of thought he’d like to do something creative. Do you want him?”
    “Not now. I’ll see him this afternoon. But get him to work making out a list of names, will you, Charlie? He can’t break anything while he does that. And forage about a bit yourself.”
    With a parody of VV’s most cooingly persuasive tone, Lessing said: “And don’t be inhibited by anything I’ve said. Think for yourself.” He went out.
    Anderson sat down to look at the new Crunchy-Munch scheme. The telephone rang and the switchboard girl said: “Oh, Mr Anderson, Mr Bagseed’s been asking for you. He said it was important.”
    “Get him for me, will you?” He was frowning at the head-line CRUNCHY-MUNCH SAVES SECRETARY’S JOB when Bagseed came through, nasal and anxious.
    “Look here, Mr Arthur’s on my back about those drawings. You know, the ones for our summer campaign.”
    “Ah yes.” Anderson unhooked the house telephone and dialled Jean Lightley’s number. “Jean,” he said, “drawings for Kiddy Modes that should have come in last week from Crashaw Studios. Find out what’s happened. Quick.” Bagseed had been talking about a check. “Yes,” Anderson said. “Yes. Yes.”
    “I simply must have those drawings for Mr Arthur this afternoon.”
    “I’m right behind those drawings, Mr Bagseed.” He improvised. “You’ll have them today.”
    Nasal complaint became nasal friendliness. “Grand, Mr Anderson, grand.”
    “Not a bit.” He improved the situation with a little invention. “As a matter of fact, these drawings are a bit late because I asked the artist to make sure they were right. And you can’t hurry an artist. You know what artists are, Mr Bagseed.”
    “I do indeed, Mr Anderson. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
    “It’s what we’re here for.” They both said ha ha. Anderson put down the receiver. He saw that Lessing’s scheme was a series of strip movies, each containing four little pictures. In CRUNCHY-MUNCH SAVES SECRETARY’S JOB, Picture I showed a crestfallen secretary being reprimanded for carelessness by her employer. “You’re all right in the morning, Miss Jones, but every afternoon you make these silly mistakes.” In Picture 2, Miss Jones talks to her friend. “The fact is, Sheila, I get hungry and we don’t have time for a tea break.” Sheila replies: “A Crunchy-Munch keeps you going. Tastes good, too.” Picture 3: Miss Jones, with typewriter in front of her, letters at side, is eating a Crunchy-Munch bar and thinking: “Yum-yum, it does taste good.” Picture 4: Employer says: “These letters are perfectly typed. Congratulations on snapping out of the depression, Miss Jones.” Miss Jones (thinks): Congratulations to Crunchy-Munch, you mean. Underneath the story was a slogan: CRUNCHY-MUNCH THE VITAMIN-PACKED CHOC-COVERED BAR OF ENERGY. The other pieces of copy exploited the same theme in strip form. The Art Department had made rough layouts that looked very neat and clean.
    Anderson sighed, shook his head, and scribbled headings on a sheet of paper. After ten minutes he looked at them:
     
    AFTER LUNCH COMES CRUNCHY-MUNCH, CRUNCHY-MUNCH ROUNDS OFF YOUR LUNCH,
    LUNCH TIME’S ALWAYS CRUNCHY-MUNCH TIME,
    ALL THE BUNCH EAT CRUNCHY-MUNCH
     
    He sighed again. Jean Lightley coughed. “Oh, Mr Anderson, Crashaw Studios say they can’t have those drawings until tomorrow. The artist’s away ill and somebody else is finishing them off.”
    “Hell!” Anderson sat looking at the desk. “Did you employ all your feminine charms?” Jean Lightley went red. “Did you speak to Crashaw himself?”
    “To his secretary, but I