First, there were "Wakies".  His observant eye ever upon that sorry thing known as "human nature", George discerned early-on  the problem of long haul truckers dozing behind the wheel.  Though a night's sleep would have solved their problem, still they continued to drive when sleepy - against all common sense.  And nothing  seemed to change their attitude.  (You can't change human nature, you know...).  In the face of horrendous accident rates and jail sentences (for the survivors!), on and on they continued to speed into those dark and stormy nights on the twister-wracked plains of yore - and dawn rose on their crashed and burning truck carcasses from the Missouri-Kansas border to where the South Platte expires at last in the Nebraska sandlands... 

    Brooding on this fact-of-life (as George identified these matters), he retired to his rooming house backstairs lab.  After a few months tinkering and experimenting on self and others, he finally had it!  A pill that when ingested would keep you stock-staring, shockfully awake and wide-eyed, hyper-active and strung tight as a fiddle for days on end.  Literally!  In short, a pill that completely overcame sleep, sleepiness, drowsiness or somnolence in any of their  mind-benumbing forms. 

    As I say, Ruthie was now become a Rhine-by-marriage, and she, too, was a 'natural'.  In some ways it was all kind of like being taken in by a Mafia familia.  Some were born Rhines, others became Rhines by marriage, others (such as myself)  were sort of "adopted" into the clan.  (I was more like the Irish consigliere in the Godfather...).   Ruthie, at any event, was a consummate artist.  Extremely talented in all media and all techniques.   George had first tried her out on copying dollar bills ... "...just to see what she could do, Bernie..."  His pronouncement?  She was real good... 

    But on this occasion her efforts  were directed to designing the art for the pasteboard counter easels upon which "Wakies" were sold from lunch counters.  This easel showed a big, very red, crowing rooster - clear-eyed, and in fightin' trim - standing on a fence post and "cock-a-doodle-do-ing" before an equally fiery and red rising sun.  The message was, shall we say, hard to miss... even for sleepy truckdrivers counting their change at the register.  Attached down one side of the easels were the individual rolls of "Wakies" - 12 pills to the package.  No information was given in those times, of course, as to ingredients or contents of the pills. 

    But who can knock success?  One "Wakie" and you were good for 72 hours straight.   After that, it was helpful if you had a private asylum to retire to, or at least the bosom of an understanding family.  Withdrawal was heart-rending - even George had to admit. 

     At this juncture in the tale, George often leaned down and rummaged around in his lower desk drawer - and came up with an ancient "Wakie" counter-talker... proof positive that all these matters had indeed transpired in the great days of yore. 

    Believe it or not, just as Farm and Home Journal transmuted into one of the country's leading magazines (Country Gentleman), "Wakies" in turn was bought out at a handsome profit from George at a later date, and progressively became (you guessed it!) "No-Doz" - still available across counters today.  Ah!, but  lacking somewhat the fire and pep of its ancestor (don't we all?).