"Good, my lad! That's the right principle. But now, think of it.
Macassar Oil will defend itself; it is specious; the name is
seductive. It is offered as a foreign importation; and we have the
ill-luck to belong to our own country. Come, Popinot, have you the
courage to kill Macassar? Then begin the fight in foreign lands. It
seems that Macassar is really in the Indies. Now, isn't it much better
to supply a French product to the Indians than to send them back what
they are supposed to send to us? Make the venture. Begin the fight in
India, in foreign countries, in the departments. Macassar Oil has been
thoroughly advertised; we must not underrate its power, it has been
pushed everywhere, the public knows it."

"I'll kill it!" cried Popinot, with fire in his eyes.

"What with?" said Birotteau. "That's the way with ardent young people.
Listen till I've done."

Anselme fell into position like a soldier presenting arms to a marshal
of France.

"Popinot, I have invented an oil to stimulate the growth of hair, to
titillate the scalp, to revive the color of male and female tresses.
This cosmetic will not be less successful than my Paste or my Lotion.
But I don't intend to work it myself. I think of retiring from
business. It is you, my boy, who are to launch my Oil Comagene,--from
the latin word _coma_, which signifies 'hair,' as Monsieur Alibert,
the King's physician, says. The word is found in the tragedy of
Berenice, where Racine introduces a king of Comagene, lover of the
queen so celebrated for the beauty of her hair; the king--no doubt as