At 27 Geary street, San Francisco, almost within the shadow of the beautiful building inhabited by the San Francisco Call, there abides an "Advertect."
Maybe you don't know what an "Advertect" is.
Never mind, dear children, your ignorance is not surprising, for this is the only one in captivity.
You may think it is some kind of an animal, but you are wrong again. An advertect is a boid--leastwise this one is.
It can stand on one leg, or two, in front of a bar and have more fun on a bottle of "Napa Soda" than most of us can have on oceans of rum.
Free from all disguises of nomenclature, the "Advertect" is Harry Alexander Rodgers--printer, publisher, engraver and ad-writer--and good at all of them.
Only a few years ago the worst printing and advertising on earth was done in San Francisco.
Two years ago "Rodgers--Advertect," projected himself on the horizon, and now the merchants of the coast may have advertising matter as well dressed as anybody in the effete East.
When the editor of Current Advertising was in San Francisco in June, he wanted to mail four thousand circulars in about fourteen hours, and the Advertect did it for him with neatness and dispatch.
Mr. Rodgers has a plant that is seemingly modeled on that of Charles Austin Bates.
He has artists, writers and printers. He plans, writes, illustrates and "places"--advertising.
He is erecting a five-story building of his own.
He publishes a bright monthly called Returns.
He is a hustler and Current Advertising wishes to record the hope and the belief that he is headed straight for big success.
(Note: The editor of Current Advertising in 1902 was Charles Austin Bates.)