Judge — October 31, 1925 — page 11: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Re: Recreation by Arthur L. Lippmann iE buzzer beside the desk of Tobias Tabbs issued an impera- tive summons. Tobias sighed and walked slowly to the door marked “Private,” behind which loomed the massive bulk and framed wall mottoes of Mr. Flubb, President and General Manager of the company. Tobias was troubled. Tobias was tired. For eleven years he had toiled faithfully and conscientiously for the Flubb Flower Pot Company. The best part of his life had gone into flower pots. His best years had been spent moulding containers for flow- ers. Tobias was weary of it all. As he entered Mr. Flubb’s office, the latter turned in his swi and thundered, “Tabbs, 3 a pretty hard worker for the last few years. Never had much of a vaca- tion either. Beg, borrow or steal a bag of golf clubs and come up to the house with me for the week-end. ‘There’s nothing betterfor a man than to get out in the golden sunshine over a week-end and completely forget business. Understand, though, not a word of shop, You're coming up to get a rest and forget this place entirely.” * kk eH Saturday afternoon Tobias stepped out of the smoker on the one fifteen and was heartily greeted by Mr. Flubb. “Glad you came, boy,” shouted Mr. Flubb. “Now, you just forget your desk and the fact that you ever knew a thing about flower pot manufacturing. You're here for a complete rest.” They stepped into Mr. Flubb’s smart roadster. “Nice car you’ve got here,” murmured Tobias. “Yes, nice little bus,” muttered Mr. Flubb, lighting a cigar. “You'll notice I’ve had the car painted the color of our new geranium -pots. It’s a sort of subtle ad for my friends and gives me a feeling of satisfaction to know that my car is in the same motif as some of our flower pots.” They sped up the road at a fast clip and soon came to a beautiful estate, nestling in hills and green shrubbery. . “See that place,” com- mented Mr. Flubb, “well, that’s the smartest house in the section and equipped with Flubb’s flower pots from attic to cellar... Do you know, that I had to compete with some of the best flower pot designers in the country before I got that contract. They’ve got 253 Flubb flower pots in and about those premises.” “Splendid, sir,” muttered Tobias. “What’s more,” said Mr, Flubb, “when we get up to the house, I’d like you to give me your idea for a new design to be used on our gun- metal flower pots for the export trade. And that reminds me, Tobias, that I’d like to have our filing sys- tem downtown completely re-ar- ranged. As it stands now, I have the utmost difficulty in finding any data whatsoever on flower pot con- struction abroad.” “Yes, sir,” feebly answered Tobias. The car drew up before Mr. Flubb’s home and Tobias was shown to his room. In about half an hour, attired in golf clothes, he descended to the living-room, Mr. Flubb greeted him — with enthusiasm. “Tobias,” he shouted, “I’ve just had a wire from Remsen in Chicago that he’s got a chance to get the flower pot contract for the new Central- ville Athletic Club, How about submitting sketches on our new Lady Godiva model?. Now, let’s sec. Our manufacturing cost on this model is about eight cents per dozen. Then we've got to consider sales cost, factory overhead and _ profit. Suppose we quote him a dollar per dozen?” “Very good, sir,” despondently replied Tobias. “T’ve got some memos here on the subject of next year’s advertising that I'd like to discuss with you,” said Mr. Flubb. “Do you think that we should remove our copy from the, morticians’ journals? Are you in favor of using beautiful girls in the illustrations and if so, what color combinations would seem most effec- tive?” “Yes, sir,” Tobias. “What's Flubb. “I think we should cut out the double-page spreads,” said Tobias, “and concentrate on single page copy for a while.” Then he added. (Continued on page 24) listlessly answered that?” bellowed Mr.