Other kids in town were in the contest and probably some adults, but
they didn't have the production line I had. I'd leave work at ten o'clock,
hurry home with the day's slogans and wrappers, pick up more slogans from
Dad and Mother, then use a rubber stamp on the inside of each wrapper: "I
use Skyway Soap because-" with my name and address. As I typed, Dad filled
out file cards. Each morning I mailed the bunch on my way to school.
I got laughed at but the adults most inclined to kid me were quickest
to let me have their wrappers.
All but one, an oaf called "Ace" Quiggle. I shouldn't class Ace as an
adult; he was an over-age juvenile delinquent. I guess every town has at
least one Ace. He hadn't finished Centerville High, a distinction since
Mr. Hanley believed in promoting everybody "to keep age groups together."
As far back as I remember Ace hung around Main Street, sometimes working,
mostly not.
He specialized in "wit." He was at our fountain one day, using up two
dollars' worth of space and time for one thirty-five-cent malt. I had just
persuaded old Mrs. Jenkins to buy a dozen cakes and had relieved her of
the wrappers. As she left, Ace picked one off my counter display and said,
"You're selling these. Space Cadet?"
"That's right, Ace. You'll never find such a bargain again."
"You expect to go to the Moon, just selling soap, Captain? Or should I
say 'Commodore'? Yuk yuk yukkity yuk!" That's how Ace laughed, like a
comic strip.
"I'm trying," I said politely. "How about some?"
"You're sure it's good soap?"
"Positive."
"Well, I'll tell you. Just to help you out-I'll buy one bar."
A plunger. But this might be the winning wrapper. "Sure thing, Ace.
Thanks a lot." I took his money, he slipped the cake into his pocket and
started to leave. "Just a second, Ace. The wrapper. Please?"
He stopped. "Oh, yes." He took out the bar, peeled it, held up the
wrapper. "You want this?"
"Yes, Ace. Thanks."
"Well, I'll show you how to get the best use of it." He reached across
to the cigar lighter on the tobacco counter and set fire to it, lit a
cigarette with it, let the wrapper bum almost to his fingers, dropped it
