fifty thousand. What next? We get up another ad. Invest our whole capital. Sell out for a million. Invest again, sell out again. In ten years we can buy Manhattan Island for our town-seat and Chicago for our country-seat. The richest firm in the world—Perkins and—”  

 “Brown,” I said, supplying the blank; “but I haven't fifty thousand dollars, nor yet ten thousand.”  

 “What have you got?” he asked, eagerly. “Just five thousand.”  

 “Done!” Perkins cried. 

 And the next day we had the trade-mark registered, and had made contracts with all the Cleveland papers. 

 “You see,” said Perkins, “we are shy of money. We can't bill the universe with a measly little five thou. We've got to begin small. Our territory is Ohio. Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster shall be known to every Buckeye, and we will sell out for twenty thousand.”  

 So we soon had the words, 

 “Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster Makes all pains and aches fly faster,”  

 on the fences and walls throughout Ohio. Every paper proclaimed the same catchy couplet. One or two magazines informed the world of it. The bill-boards heralded it. In fact, Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster was in everybody's mouth, and bade fair to be on everybody's back as soon as there was a Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster to put on those same backs. 

 For Perkins was right. The backs seemed fairly to ache for plasters of our making. From all over the State druggists wrote for terms; and we soon kept two typewriters busy informing the anxious pharmacists that, owing to the unprecedented demand, our factory was two months behind on orders, and that “your esteemed favor will have our earliest attention, and all orders will be filled in rotation at the earliest possible moment.” Each day brought a deluge of letters, and we received several quite unsolicited testimonials to the merits of Perkins's Patent Porous Plaster. Perkins was radiant. 

 Then he faded. 

 He set out to sell the trade-mark, and failed! No one wanted it. Money was tight, and patent medicines were a drug. 

 Porous Plasters were dead. Perkins was worried. Day followed day; and the orders began to decrease, while countermands began to arrive. We had just two hundred dollars left, and bills for 

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