“Now, Mr. Edison, about this latest contraption of yours….”
“Yes. I call it the ‘autopen’. You sign your name on this template and load it into the machine, and the stylus follows that signature to sign it as many times as needed. It should be a godsend to the busy executive who must sign a stack of form letters. He can tend to important business while the machine….”
“I understood that, Mr. Edison. What I don’t understand is why my partner, William DeHavilland Smith, tried it and your ‘autopen’ wrote out an invoice for twenty horseshoes.”
“It what?”
“Our office boy, Willie Callahan, took a turn, and the pen wrote ‘Stop giving me the Willies!’’
“I don’t….”
“My own name is Fowler, Mr. Edison. That pen wrote ‘Those other guys had bad handwriting, but yours is worse’.”
“I apologize. I’ll take it back and try to find out what….”
“By no means, Mr. Edison. We’d like to make an offer on an exclusive use of your invention.”
“But it doesn’t….”
“Bill Smith got a bill from the blacksmith, Willie Callahan got a joke for being the second William to try the machine, and I was told that my handwriting was FOULER than theirs. I know any number of writers who will pay plenty to own an ‘autopun’.”
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