“Pop” Momand Profiled by Alex Jay

From the first week of Keeping Up With The Joneses, perhaps the first strip

Arthur Ragland “Pop” Momand was born in San Diego, California on May 15, 1887. His date of birth was recorded on his World War I and II draft registration cards, a 1925 passport application, numerous passenger lists, and in the Social Security Death Index. He was the first of five children born to Ragland, a Georgia native, and Anna, a Mississippi native. His brother, John Leslie, was born in California around 1888. Siblings Don Stuart (1891), Grace L. (1895), and Gertrude C. (1897), were all born in New York.

An August 1908 passenger list recorded Momand’s return to New York, aboard the S.S. Floride, on the 19th; he had departed from Le Havre, France on the 8th. This trip may have been related to his study at the Julian Academy in Paris, France.
In the 1910 U.S. Federal Census, Momand was married to May Harding (her second marriage and nine years his senior) who had three teen-aged daughters. They had been married for three months and lived in Hempstead, Nassau, New York. His occupations were artist and painter. His mother and siblings lived in Manhattan. Momand’s “Keeping Up with the Joneses” may have debuted in April 1913 in the New York Globe, the World-Herald (Omaha, Nebraska) and other newspapers (March 31 is my start date — Allan).
The Moving Picture World profiled Momand in its September 11, 1915 issue on page 1809:
Arthur Momand’s Cartoons
Right away a guy gets conspicuous—next thing you know he’s in the moving pictures. That is what happened to Mr. McGinnis and his whole family in the daily-cartoon extravaganza “Keeping Up with the Joneses.” So it is that this comic, which graces the pages of a big string of American dailies, is to appear on the Mutual Film Corporation’s $8,000,000 program.
Arrangements have been completed with “Pop,” father of the series, to put it into animated cartoons for release on the Mutual program. The Joneses matter will be animated by Harry Palmer, cartoonist for the Gaumont Company. Five hundred feet a week of this subject will be released on a split reel carrying an equal footage of “Seeing America First.”
“Pop,” as he signs his cartoons in the Associated Newspapers, is Arthur R. Momand, a newspaper artist of high repute. Mr. Momand was born in California along in 1888, before it became the fashion to brag about the climate down at San Diego. Shortly thereafter he brought his parents to New York. A few years later he was about to matriculate at Princeton when an editor got in the way and gave him a job. This was Henry Grant Dart, then art editor of the New York World. Mr. Momand stayed with the World seven years, there gaining a name as the maker of various series including “Mr. I. N. Dutch.” 
Next Mr. Momand appeared on the staff of the Evening Telegram, where he created the series “Pazzaza.” Success encouraged Mr. Momand to go abroad for study. He spent a year at the Julian Academy and there evolved his most human series of them all, “Keeping Up with the Joneses.” This series is now running in about 150 daily newspapers in the United States and Canada. It deals in the most cheerful sort of way with the most intimate foibles of American family life. But why analyze and be serious. Look at it and laugh.
(Two “Keeping Up with the Joneses” animated cartoons and a book can be viewed and downloaded at the Internet Archive, enter “Momand” in the search box.)

The Hamilton Daily News (Ohio) published Momand’s account of his life on October 7, 1921:
‘Keeping Up With Joneses’ Keeps Pop Momand Busy
Here’s what Pop Momand, creator of “Keeping Up With the Joneses,” appearing in the Daily News Comic page daily, has to say for himself:
“I gave my first yell in San Diego, Cal., on the night of May 15, 1888 [sic]. Unlike most Native Sons, I haven’t yelled much about California since. At a tender age my parents moved to Houston, Tex., where I understand my father tried to make some real money in real estate. About the only thing I remember in connection with Houston is getting a licking for running off and riding on a ‘flying jinny,” which, above the Mason Dixie line is known as a merry-go-round. From Texas my fond parents made a big jump, and the next thing I remember in life is a flock of cable cars, elevated trains and hansom cabs. Also a large quantity of human beings walking up and down a street called Broadway.
“Shortly after this my father evidently decided it was time I learned who discovered America and who won the battle of Bull Run, and many other things so necessary to a complete education. So I was sent to school, where I didn’t cover myself with much glory, but certainly did cover my books with queer looking pictures. The family wanted me to become a prominent lawyer, but I fooled ’em and rapidly became a very poor artist.
“When about eighteen, I met Harry Grant Dart, then art editor of the New York World, who said if I cared to become a “regular artist” he would give me a job. I jumped at his offer and started on the magnificent salary of $6 per week. He was very kind and through his efforts and instruction I was soon making $30 per week. [If Momand was 18 at the time, the year would have been 1905.]
“For about eight years I did regular newspaper stuff—everything from making borders for photographs to sporting cartoons for the sports page. At last I hit upon “Keeping Up With the Joneses,” began to make some “real money,” and also began to “keep up with the Joneses” myself.
“That was nine years ago, and Aloysius P. McGinnis and his family are still going strong.”
The date of Momand’s divorce from Mary is not known. According to an August 1927 passenger list, Momand and Mayo Deason arrived in New York, from Cherbourg, France, on the 15th. On June 4, 1928 Momand married Deason, a Clara City, Minnesota native, at the Town Hall (Rathaus) in Lucerne, Switzerland, as recorded in the United States Consular Reports of Marriages.
The New York Times reported Momand’s passing on December 5, 1987.
Arthur R. Momand, Comic Strip Artist, Dies
Arthur R. Momand, an artist and creator of the comic strip “Keeping Up With the Joneses,” died Nov. 10 at the Mary McClellan Hospital in Cambridge, N.Y. He was 101 [sic; 100] years old and lived in a nursing home at the hospital.
Mr. Momand, who was born in San Diego, attended the Trinity School in New York City and began his career as a sketch artist for The New York World in 1907 [sic; 1905].
In 1916 [sic; 1913], he created “Keeping Up With the Joneses,” a comic strip parody of American domestic life, which was eventually syndicated in several hundred newspapers in the United States and abroad. After discontinuing the comic strip in 1945 [sic; the strip ended on April 16, 1938.], Mr. Momand, who was known as “Pop,” worked as a portrait painter in Manhattan.
He is survived by a nephew, Anthony V. Lynch, of Shushan, N.Y., and two nieces, Keiron Jesup of New Canaan, Conn., and Virginia, of Staten Island.
The New York Times has ideas about the origin of the idiom (1 and 2) of Keeping up with the Joneses.

Some of Momand’s fine art work and sketchbook pages can be viewed at Mark Lawson Antiques.

Farewell from Keeping Up With The Joneses, April 16 1938

Obscurity of the Day: Pazaza, It’s Great!

Arthur ‘Pop’ Momand spent most of his early cartooning years at the New York World, but he did part company with them for awhile to produce Pazaza, It’s Great! for the Evening Telegram, the afternoon paper counterpart of Bennett’s Herald. The Telegram was notable in the 1900s and early teens for having a constantly evolving and often interesting line-up of weekday comics. Unfortunately their material wasn’t widely syndicated, and archived copies of the Telegram itself are quite scarce (this because libraries correctly considered afternoon papers to be comparatively frivolous compared to their morning editions).

Luckily Cole Johnson provides some wonderful samples of this Telegram strip, a particular favorite of mine. Momand’s brainchild was deliciously rebellious and snarky. Most newspapers were filled with snake-oil ads at that time, and I don’t recall the Telegram being a dissident in that respect, so it’s pretty cool that the paper ran this strip which makes blatant fun of such products. In those days the typical wonder elixir was advertised to cure a whole laundry list of aches and illnesses, from the mundanity of psoriasis and warts right on up to cancer and leprosy. Amazing what a little codeine and alcohol can do.

Momand’s stand-in for products like Lydia Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound, Carter’s Little Liver Pills and Dr. Morse’s Indian Root Extract was Pazaza, and the strip had it being effective for doing pretty much anything the purchaser could ever dream. Although it was a one-joke strip, it was a pretty funny one with a million gag possibilities. Momand didn’t quite make it to the million mark, but he did produce it on a pretty consistent basis from December 9 1908 to September 14 1910.

Obscurity of the Day: Drowsy Dick

No, no, it’s not a strip about the benefits of Viagra, though this snoozer might have benefited from a little blue pill.

When the New York World expanded its Sunday comics section in 1926, Drowsy Dick was one of the new additions on September 12. In a concept that had been done before, and done better, a kid is injected into various classic fairy tales. Unlike strips that managed to muster up an actual point of view, though, the kid doesn’t seem to have any effect on the telling of the stories. He simply takes the place of a character, or tags along for the ride in the awkwardly adapted tales.

The original creator was Ernest J. King, a fellow who  has no other credits that I can find. While his art isn’t all that memorable, it’s pretty darn impressive stuff for a guy who seems to have left no tracks other than four Sundays he did for this series.

Yep, that’s right. He was canned after a mere four pages, barely had his feet, or rather his brush, wet. The good news is that his replacement wielded a pretty fabulous pen. Violet Moore Higgins, a criminally under-celebrated cartoonist and children’s book illustrator, took over on October 10. Her lush brushwork almost makes us forget that the stories continue to be stilted and unoriginal. At least we have plenty of eye candy to look at. As Higgins settled in, she seemed to at least wield enough control over the feature that the stories were made more manageable. Rather than trying to retell an entire fairy tale story in twelve panels, her version more often focused on a single vignette as in the example shown here.

My assumption is that neither King or Higgins did the writing on this strip, but rather it was the work of some anonymous staff writer, one who seemed to have no feel at all for comic strip pacing. No great loss that the writer took no credit since it would not have done his or her resume any good.

Drowsy Dick continued as a Sunday page until May 29 1927. But Dick wasn’t sent off for the eternal slumber just yet. On September 30 he reappeared, this time in a daily strip that, as best I can  tell, appeared only in the New York Evening World. Dick continued his snoozy adventures in the new format until April 14 1928.

Weekends on Hiatus for Now

Hello folks — Herriman Saturdays and Jim Ivey’s Sunday Comics are on hiatus for the time being. My scanner is on the fritz and I’ve run out of backlog scans for these features. Weekday features can continue unabated long into the future because I have oodles of scans waiting in the wings.

If you happen to be a good troubleshooter, I’m hereby soliciting ideas on how to fix this !@#$% thing. The specific situation is actually that the scanner works just fine if I hook it up to a different computer. But the one that I use for maintaining the blog, and which has Photoshop and all my other tools on it, just can’t seem to recognize it all of a sudden. The computer recognizes it when I plug the USB cable in (I get the familiar ding), but when I try to make a scan nothing good happens. If I attempt to scan through Photoshop, Photoshop becomes unresponsive. If I try to scan directly through the Epson software, the application starts, displays it’s splash screen, and then just shuts down. I tried reinstalling the Epson scanner driver and scanning application, and in test mode it says it finds the scanner. But no go when I actually try to scan.

I don’t recall anything out of the ordinary happening around the same time,  like installing new apps or hardware. Oh, and other USB devices continue to work normally. I’m on XP with current service packs and updates.

Any ideas??

Obscurity of the Day: The Anvil Chorus and Feature Foto Plays

The New York American of the late teens and 1920s is only available in fragmentary form on microfilm. Tis a sad thing. Because of the wide view that Hearst’s papers were yellow rags, and worse, that W.R. himself was sympathetic to the Germans in World War I, libraries failed to collect and archive many of his newspapers in this era. 

The incomplete microfilming of the American of 1916-1918 is especially distressing because there were a lot of interesting goings-on there that seldom made it into other papers in any orderly form. Among them are the many different series that Ed Wheelan was producing for the American in 1916. Wheelan, of course, was in a process that would eventually lead him to settle down with his classic Minute Movies feature, and in the sample above we see a very early incarnation of that idea in the ‘daily topper’ for The Anvil Chorus. Here called Our Feature Film, the idea of a film strip would transform several times before it settled down into its familiar later form. In this form, the feature more often went by the title Feature Foto Plays and ran about once a week as the Wheelan ‘topper’ from February 11 to September 20 1916. I consider this a separate series from Midget Movies, which began as an untitled feature (as far as the record can tell) on January 31 1917.

Luckily, we do have enough microfilmed papers to give a pretty reasonable set of running dates for the main feature, The Anvil Chorus. This feature, which ran in tandem with Wheelan’s other series, seems to have first appeared on February 4 and ended on August 15 1916. It had a lot in common with Tad’s Indoor Sports cartoons, chronicling the belly-aching and one-upping that goes on when a group of guys get together.

We’ve featured a few of Wheelan’s other early ventures on the blog. Here’s Hope and Experience and Always Take Papa’s Advice. And here are some early samples of Minute Movies, before it was even titled Midget Movies.

I hear that over on Ken Quattro’s Comics Detective blog we’re about to be treated to an essay about Ed Wheelan in the next day or two. Head on over — it’s highly recommended reading.

Obscurity of the Day: Will-yum

It seems amazing that a feature can last almost a decade and a half, but yet qualify as an obscurity (at least in my opinion), but it’s surprising just how many features fly under the radar for years and years.

I’m sure there are some out there who remember Will-yum. As I often say, it’s not an obscurity to you if it ran in your newspaper. But Will-yum didn’t have a long client list when it debuted on June 1 1953, never really made any significant gains through the years, and ended quietly on January 30 1967.

The daily and Sunday kid strip by Dave Gerard grew out of a recurring feature he did for Woman’s Home Companion starting in 1949. In 1953, with sales of his newspaper feature Viewpoint not setting the world on fire, he and the John F. Dille Syndicate changed gears. They dumped Viewpoint and replaced it with Will-Yum. The new feature certainly did incrementally better, enough anyway to keep Gerard from retiring it in favor of focusing more time on his magazine gag cartooning.

Will-Yum made a few comic book appearances, and a book collection was issued by Berkley in 1958.

Hans Horina: More Digging by Alex Jay

Reinicke and Horina, 1897

Little is known about Hans Horina’s art training and career in Europe. There is a connection between Horina and fellow comic artist Emil Reinicke.

Reinicke was a German artist born on November 20, 1859 and passed away in 1942, according to the German Wiki. Lambiek Comiclopedia also has a page on him.

In the periodical Fliegende Blätter, Nro. 2702, 7 Mai 1897 (Flying Sheets, Number 2702, May 7, 1897), on pages 186 and 187, there is a five-panel cartoon. In the lower right-hand corner of the fifth panel are the names, “H. Horina (illegible), E. Reinicke (illegible).

Samples of Reinicke’s work can be viewed at Andy’s Early Comics Archive. The site has three pages from the book, “Der Durstige Jumbo” (Thirsty Jumbo), which was published in 1902. On the third page, in the upper left-hand corner, is the signature, “E. Reinicke nach Horina, 02.”

Reinicke and Horina, 1902

What kind of relationship was this? Reinicke was six years older than Horina and, evidently, established as an illustrator and caricaturist before Horina. Was Reinicke the teacher and Horina the apprentice or was Reinicke a mentor to Horina?

A Reinicke collaboration with another artist, Karl Pomerhanz, was the cartoon “Ein Bubenstreich”, printed in the January 22, 1897 issue of Fliegende Blätter 2687. Pomerhanz was two years older Reinicke, and, according to Lambiek, was a painter before turning to comic illustration. Was Pomerhanz an apprentice, too?

How much influence did Reinicke have on Pomerhanz and Horina, both of whom were recruited by the Chicago Tribune in 1906 for its new comics section? This trio certainly shared the same comic sensibility.

Reinecke and Pommerhanz, 1897

More Reinicke art and work by many more German artists can be seen in Volume 106 of Fliegende Blätter which can be previewed and downloaded at Google Books.

A Gallery of Hans Horina Postcards

Obscurity of the Day: As a Matter of Fact

Sports cartoonists are sort of the middle child of the ink-stained fraternity. Everyone loves the guys from the funny pages, and editorial cartoonists have the respect of newspaper readers. But what of those other guys — the sports cartoonists? Both they and their entire genre are all but forgotten. Ask the average cartooning fan to name some, and they’ll probably get stuck after one or two. Willard Mullin …. uh … Pap …. um …. Many of our favorite cartoonists dabbled in sports for awhile, but for those who stuck with that genre for their entire career, their lives mostly have gone undocumented in cartooning references.

Take Bob Coyne, for instance. He did sports cartoons for 40-some years in several Boston papers, and he had a pleasant if not terribly glamorous style. He chronicled all the great Boston sports teams from the 1920s into the 70s, and was, I presume, beloved of sports page readers in Beantown in his day. But today if his name was the answer to a cartooning trivia question, we’d all shout, “Unfair — NO ONE has heard of that guy!”

Anyhow, enough maudlin sentimentalizing. In addition to Bob Coyne’s regular sports cartoons in the Boston Post, in the late 20s and early 30’s he did this daily sports-oriented Believe It or Not-type feature titled As a Matter of Fact. There doesn’t appear to have ever been an attempt to syndicate it, though maybe I’m wrong since they did bother to adorn each one with a copyright symbol. Coyne did a really good job of picking his oddball facts, hitting all the major sports regularly and plenty of the minor ones. And his factoids are entertaining, too, not just a boring recitation of batting averages, rebounds and rushing yards.

I don’t know how long Coyne stuck with this feature. My samples are all from 1929-30, but for all I know it might have run for quite awhile. I did do quite a bit of spot-indexing of the Boston Post, but somehow must have glossed over this diminutive feature.

News of Yore 1929: Tad Eulogized

Press and Sports World Laud Tad in Final Tributes to Genius

Newspaper Associates Write With “Tears In Their Eyes” — Baseball and Boxing Men Lament Cartoonist’s Death

(Editor & Publisher, 5/11/29)

Sport writers and sportsmen paid tribute last week to Tad, cartoonist, humorist and sport writer, idol of New York newspaperdom, who died during his sleep shortly after noon, May 2, leaving the world of the ringside and baseball diamond, which he loved so much, after nine years of virtual confinement to his home in Great Neck, L.I.

His many devoted freinds on the sport staffs of numerous newspapers in New York and other cities dipped their pens in reminiscence and wrote of the countless practical jokes, the time-honored wisecracks and the gameness of their freind, Thomas Aloysius Dorgan, who was Tad to them and all the rest of his gay world. In his own particular phrase of commendation, reserved for people he admired most, Tad’s friends wrote his epitaph — “He was a swell guy.”

At Madison Square Garden, temple of the “manly art,” the sport he liked best, an empty seat was draped with black for Tad’s memory, during the bouts, May 3, and while taps was sounded from the ring, the crowds present stood with bowed heads.

Tad kept working up to the day before his death, and conscientiously kept up his schedule of 10 cartoons in advance. These were continued in the New York Journal and other papers served by King Features Syndicate after a break of one day in honor of the artist. Many of Tad’s old drawings of “Indoor Sports,” “Outdoor Sports,” “Judge Rummy” and the “Daffydils” will be run by the Hearst papers for some time to come.

Among Tad’s many admirable qualities, extolled by his friends, were his courage, his wit and his kindness. Courage was the keynote of his life. When he was a boy in San Francisco his right hand was mutilated in an accident and he learned to draw with his left. He was the principal support of his mother and six brothers and sisters, and when Arthur Brisbane wired him offering a job on the New York Journal at $60 a week, he wired back that he needed $75 because he had to take his family to New York with him. Brisbane replied with an extra raise, and Tad came to Gotham at $100 a week.

Although Tad’s cartooning, wisecracking and associations with the realm of sports and the white lights branded him with the mark of gaiety and lightheartedness, his friends testified to his qualities as a serious thinker. He read extensively and whenever a young fellow would ask his advice he would tell him to “buy good books and read every line of them.”

He was a kind and strict “father” to his brothers and sisters, maintaining a sharp watch over their welfare. Once a week he would have a conference with two of his brothers, who called regularly for a “bawling out.” At these conferences Tad would ask them about their behavior and urge them to work hard.

He idolized his mother, whom he called “Flynn,” which was her maiden name. He gave a dinner every year on the occasion of her birthday and always prepared a veritable gauntlet of trick glasses and other practical jokes, which “Flynn” was forced to run during the course of the dinner.

It was a hard blow to him when he was ordered by his physician not to attend any more prize-fights. This came during the period of Jack Dempsey’s training in Atlantic City for his bout with Georges Carpentier in 1921. Tad had been taken ill at the Dempsey-Miske fight the previous year, but had continued to “cover” his favorite sport for the Journal until the final warning that the further excitement of the prize-ring would be too great a strain on his heart.

Many fighters were his friends, among them Dempsey, whom Tad picked to beat Jess Willard, the Goliath of the ring, despite the fact that only a few others were of the same opinion. Dempsey never forgot this, and last week he paid a grand tribute to Tad, saying:

“I looked upon him then as the greatest authority on boxing, and when he picked me to beat Willard it strengthened my confidence. Up to the time that he could no longer make his observations first-hand I believe he knew more about fighting than any other man.”

In recent years, Tad depended upon the radio for synthetic attendence at the fights.

Tad had a penchant for nicknaming people. He christened Joe Gans, the colored ring champion, “The Old Master,” and he used to call Arthur Brisbane “Big George.”

Baseball was his second love among the sports. The Yankees were his favorite team and Hal Chase was his most idolized player, with Babe Ruth ranking second.

He loved to play cards and pinochle was his favorite game. He would shoot dice until he lost $10 and then quit.

An odd quirk of his character was brought out this week in a story told by one of his friends. Back in 1907 Irving Berlin, who was Tad’s favorite song writer, used to work as a singing waiter at Jimmy Kelly’s restaurant on 14th Street and Tad used to sit by the hour and listen to him sing “San Francisco Bay.”

Several of the sports writing fraternity testified to Tad’s quick wit with a story of his first days on the Journal. He was involved in a small but lively “crap” game in the cartoonist’s room with several of his co-workers, among them Bud Fisher, Harry Hershfield, Tom McNamara, Tom Powers, George McManus and Damon Runyan [this list includes several who weren’t at the Journal when Tad arrived]. Shooting dice was against the rules of the Journal, but the boys, in their ardor, had put aside all thoughts of rules. One of the contestants had his arm poised high over his head shaking the dice and exhorting a nine to make its appearance when, without warning, Arthur Brisbane walked on the scene. The arm remained frozen in its pose. A ghastly silence came over the group. But Tad came to the rescue. Turning to the editor, he said quietly, “There’s a quarter open; do you want it?”

Many other tales of Tad’s practical jokes and odd likes and dislikes were narrated by his host of friends in newspapers throughout the country this week, and each of then wrote with a tear in his eye.

News of Yore 1929: Marketing with Cartoons

Advertising Linked with “Hambone” Cartoon in Memphis Daily

New Hand-Coloring Stunt Sold FULL Page for Thirty Weeks in Commercial Appeal — Prizes Offered — Originated by Jim Alley and Hugh J. Mooney
Editor & Publisher, 3/23/29

Something new in the hookup of a cartoon character with advertising has been worked out by Jim Alley, cartoonist for the Memphis Commerical Appeal and his manager, Hugh J. Mooney, son of the late C.P.J. Mooney.

The plan, already under way in Memphis and several other cities where the comic character “Hambone” is used editorially, has a contest angle and presents advertising selling talk through the subtle and philosophical utterances of the darkey. Advertisements, of which there may be a dozen or 50, and six cartoons are packed in a page, to be run weekly for 30 weeks by the newspaper using the series.

It is proposed to offer the advertising plan first to those newspapers using the “Hambone” cartoon editorially, Mooney says.

A series, the first, began in the Commercial Appeal March 7, 39 advertisments being on the page in addition to the six cartoons.

Under the plan, each advertiser is represented in a cartoon one or more times during the series, depending on his position and space on the page.

A hand-coloring contest in which weekly prizes and a grand prize are given is a part of the general advertising stunt. Readers are asked to color the cartoons with crayon or other materials, mailing them with self-addressed envelope to the newspaper office. One of the rules of the contest is that cartoons must not be cut out of the page. Entrants are required to give their name, age and address.

“It is through this hand-coloring feature and the plan under which it is managed that great value comes to the advertiser,” Mooney explains. “There are color crayons or water colors in every home. It is inevitable that someone in the family will attempt to color Hambone’s clothes, shoes and lips and the background in the cartoons.

“Soon the whole family is crowded around, offering suggestions, trying to help, and all the time unconsciously absorbing the names of the advertisers and what they have to sell.

“Each week the pages are returned to the entrants after being judged for the weekly prizes. They keep them and submit them again at the close of the contest for the grand prize.

“And since one of the rules of the contest is that cartoons must not be cut out of the page, entrants from week to week are referring back to former pages and so reading and re-reading the advertisements. They are comparing this week’s work with that of last week and with that of the week before. The advertiser is continually getting his message read, weekly increasing its pull.”

Prizes, in addition to the weekly and grand prize, may be offered every week by advertisers who want entrants and others to visit their places of business, according to the Alley-Mooney plan.

“In a little strip at the bottom of the cartoon layout contestants are told to take their pages to certain advertisers on certain days for judging,” Mooney says. “In this way the advertiser makes new contacts and friends and can get some idea of results of his advertising.”

According to the contest rules, each entrant must give his age. “The age is important information for the advertiser. As I expected, the vast majority of those entering the contest at Memphis and other cities are adults.”

The advertiser is urged to change his copy every week under the plan. “I suggest each advertiser use his space, position of which is unchanged throughout the 30 weeks, for specials. General advertisements are discouraged as much as possible.

“One feature of our page is that no two different advertisers, theough they be in the same line of business, may advertise the same product. For instance, we have two auto concerns on the page. One may advertise a special make of car and the other trucks. An effort is made to keep lines non-competitive wherein it is possible.”

The six cartoons may be placed at the top of the page or equidistant from one another and the border, as advertisers desire, Mooney explains. And the number of cartoons our advertiser may receive in the series depends on space and position he buys.

One product is named in each cartoon. For instance, in the upper left cartoon of the page advertisement in the Commercial Appeal March 7, Hambone is seen in front of a window, below which “Southern Motor Car Company, 1107 Union Avenue, Cadillac — LaSalle” is printed. “Hambone”, towel on his arm, is giving vent to the following, printed in the balloon:

“Shucks! W’en you buys one dem good cyars you jes’ natcherly gits hoss power and mule endurance.” Trade names are not mentioned in the balloons. Cartoons are changed each week, advertisers remain the same, but advertisements may change, though space and position do not.

The idea, plans and cartoons are copyrighted by Alley.

“We will lease the method and Hambone commercial cartoons to papers at so much an inch over the regular rate, with a minimum guarantee, both as to amount and number of weeks to run,” Mooney says.

“The papers are to sell the same to advertisers, using their regular advertising staffs.”

“Neither Mr. Alley nor myself feel he is prostituting his talents in any way.

“He is open to suggestions from advertisers at all times, but reserves the right to express himself in a way he desires and believes best expressive.”

Jim Alley, 44 years old, has been on the staff of the Commercial Appeal 13 years, joining that paper in 1915 when the late C.P.J. Mooney was editor. It was Editor Mooney who discovered Alley’s talent when the artist was plugging away at a desk in the Bluff City Engraving Company.

For many years it was Editor Mooney who furnished a great many of the ideas for Alley’s cartoons, especially those of a political nature. Alley gained prominence in the South the time Ed Crump, boss of Shelby County’s political organization, was ousted as mayor in 1915.

Mooney, the son of the late editor, has made an extensive study of advertising and promotion. For the last five years he has maintained a laboratory in Memphis in the Western Newspaper Union building and at the present is working on television and its adaptability to advertising. He believes he is the first person to receive television more than 1000 miles.