"So I am," agreed Emma McChesney calmly. "Go on."

"Well, I went on. I told him that I'd learned to stand so that the
light wouldn't shine in my client's eyes when I was talking to
him. I lost a big order once because the glare from the window
irritated the man I was talking to. I told Berg all the tricks I'd
learned, and some I hadn't thought of till that minute. Berg put
in a word now and then. I thought he was sort of guying me, as he
sometimes does--not unkindly, you know, but in that quiet way he
has. Finally I stopped for breath, or something, and he said:

"'Now let me talk a minute, McChesney. Anybody can teach you the
essentials of the advertising business, if you've any advertising
instinct in you. But it's what you pick up on the side, by your
own efforts and out of your own experience, that lifts you out of
the scrub class. Now I don't think you're an ideal advertising man
by any means, McChesney. You're shy on training and experience,
and you've just begun to acquire that golden quality known as
balance. I could name a hundred men that are better all-around
advertising men than you will ever be. Those men have advertising
ability that glows steadily and evenly, like a well-banked fire.
But you've got the kind of ability that flares up, dies down,
flares up. But every flare is a real blaze that lights things red
while it lasts, and sends a new glow through the veins of
business. You've got personality, and youth, and enthusiasm, and a
precious spark of the real thing known as advertising genius.
There's no describing it. You know what I mean. Also, you
know enough about actual advertising not to run an ad for a
five-thousand-dollar motor car in the "Police Gazette." All of
which leads up to this question: How would you like to buy your