31st Of February Read Online Free Page B

fancies he wants to be an advertising man. You remember LEG. wanted to put him through the mill here and it was agreed he should start in Copy.”
    “Oh ah,” said V. He took no interest in such matters. “What about him?”
    “I understand he’s started this morning. I think, as head of the Copy Department, I might have been told before today.”
    Reverton said: “Andy, old boy, I must plead guilty. We’ve been working like stink on this new account. Tried to stave off LEG, but you know what he’s like when a client like Sir Malcolm asks him a favour – never lets go. He asked me to let you know on Friday and I forgot. We’ve all been blowing our tops here the last couple of weeks.” His smile was an apology.
    “Can’t he start in another department? Lessing and I have got enough to do.”
    Reverton looked unhappy. “LEG particularly wanted him to start in the Copy. Brains of the place, you know.”
    There was silence. Anderson said sulkily: “If that’s the way it’s got to be, then.”
    “Now now,” VV said. “Don’t take this too seriously, Andy. How long’s this boy supposed to stay in Copy? A fortnight. All right then, let’s make it a week. Give him an idea how the wheels go round, see if there’s anything in him; toss him out after a week if he’s no good. How’s that?”
    “All right.” On the way back to his room Anderson thought that he should have been firmer; he should have said No. But it was not easy to say No to VV.
    Charlie Lessing was waiting in the room when he got back. He was a donnish, soft-spoken, thirtyish young man with a small mouth and large horn-rimmed spectacles. “Six pieces of Crunchy-Munch copy are on your desk. I have consumed a great deal of that nutritious and delicious sweetmeat to put me in the mood. I feel a little sick. What was the conference?”
    “Somebody’s found a way to end razoritis. VV’s discovered the fifth freedom,” he explained. Lessing’s small mouth made an O of surprise.
    “Are you sure the End of the World League didn’t dream this one up in the night?”
    “That’s what Wyvern thinks, but VV won’t have any of it. He says it’s all genuine. He’s given a directive,” Lessing groaned. “Humour is out. Science is out. Humanity is in. Regard this as a great human problem and you’ll be thinking the way the boss thinks.”
    “That’s the way I always want to think,” Lessing said seriously. “Life began for me today – it’s a different man who says ‘Hallo’ in the morning – is that the line?”
    “That’s about it. And don’t forget how wonderful it is for the kiddies that Daddy can spare a minute to clip them over the ear after he has breakfast. There it is. You may as well ask Research to get out a competitive file on shaving, although I can’t see that we shall need it. And a little bit of historical research won’t do any harm.”
    “What about the tgojumba tree?” Lessing squinted down his snub nose. “I long to say something about that. We don’t need any research. The sap’s extracted by the natives and they anoint themselves with it – that’s why they’ve been the cleanest-shaven tribe in Central Africa for so many years. But for the sensitive white skin the original treacly sap has been refined by our laboratory chemists and combined with an unguent derived from powdered hippopotamus testicles to produce a shaving preparation of a kind hitherto unknown.”
    “I forgot to tell you,” Anderson said. “That won’t do.”
    “Won’t do, sir?” Lessing looked comically offended.
    “Shaving. This is antishaving, not shaving. We need a name, and it mustn’t be comic or smart. Nu-shave and Razorless have received heavy frowns.”
    “Depilo?”
    “Too scientific.”
    Lessing laughed. His laugh was surprising, a high-pitched scholar’s giggle. “You know, I can’t believe this. Somebody’s having a little joke.”
    “Rev’s tried it and he says it works.” Anderson dismissed the question,