As o'er my latest book I pored,
Enjoying it immensely,
I suddenly exclaimed " Good Lord!"
And gripped the volume tensely.
" Golly!" I cried. I writhed in pain.
" They've done it on me once again!"
And furrows creased my brow.
I'd written (which I thought quite good)
" Ruth, ripening into womanhood,
Was now a girl who knocked men flat
And frequently got whistled at",
And some vile, careless, casual gook
Had spoiled the best thing in the book
By printing " not"
(Yes, " not", great Scott!)
When I had written " now".
On murder in the first degree
The Law, I knew, is rigid:
Its attitude, if A kills B,
To A is always frigid.
It counts it not a trivial slip
If on behalf of authorship
You liquidate compositors.
This kind of conduct it abhors
And seldom will allow.
Nevertheless, I deemed it best
And in the public interest
To buy a gun, to oil it well,
Inserting what is called a shell,
And go and pot
With sudden shot
This printer who had printed " not"
When I had written " now".
I tracked the bounder to his den
Through private information:
I said, " Good afternoon", and then
Explained the situation:
" I'm not a fussy man," I said.
" I smile when you put " rid " for " red "
And " bad " for " bed " and " hoad " for " head "
And " bolge " instead of " bough " .
When " wone " appears in lieu of " wine "
Or if you alter " Cohn " to " Schine " ,
I never make a row.
I know how easy errors are.
But this time you have gone too far
By printing " not " when you knew what
I really wrote was " now " .
Prepare," I said, " to meet your God
Or, as you'd say, your Goo or Bod,
Or possibly your Gow."
A few weeks later into court
I came to stand my trial.
The Judge was quite a decent sort.
He said, " Well, cocky, I'll
Be passing sentence in a jiff,
And so, my poor unhappy stiff,
If you have anything to say,
Now is the moment. Fire away.
You have?"
I said, " And how!
Me lud, the facts I don't dispute.
I did, I own it freely, shoot
This printer through the collar stud.
What else could I have done, me lud?
He'd printed " not " . . ."
The judge said, " What!
When you had written " now " ?
God bless my soul! Gadzooks!" said he.
" The blighters did that once to me.
A dirty trick, I trow.
I hereby quash and override
The jury's verdict. Gosh!" he cried.
" Give me your hand. Yes, I insist,
You splendid fellow! Case dismissed."
(Cheers, and a Voice " Wow-wow!")
A statue stands against the sky,
Lifelike and rather pretty.
'Twas recently erected by
The P.E.N. committee.
And many a passer-by is stirred,
For on the plinth, if that's the word,
In golden letters you may read
" This is the man who did the deed.
His hand set to the plough,
He did not sheathe the sword, but got
A gun at great expense and shot
The human blot who'd printed " not "
When he had written " now " .
He acted with no thought of self,
Not for advancement, not for pelf,
But just because it made him hot
To think the man had printed " not "
When he had written " now " ."
Enjoying it immensely,
I suddenly exclaimed " Good Lord!"
And gripped the volume tensely.
" Golly!" I cried. I writhed in pain.
" They've done it on me once again!"
And furrows creased my brow.
I'd written (which I thought quite good)
" Ruth, ripening into womanhood,
Was now a girl who knocked men flat
And frequently got whistled at",
And some vile, careless, casual gook
Had spoiled the best thing in the book
By printing " not"
(Yes, " not", great Scott!)
When I had written " now".
On murder in the first degree
The Law, I knew, is rigid:
Its attitude, if A kills B,
To A is always frigid.
It counts it not a trivial slip
If on behalf of authorship
You liquidate compositors.
This kind of conduct it abhors
And seldom will allow.
Nevertheless, I deemed it best
And in the public interest
To buy a gun, to oil it well,
Inserting what is called a shell,
And go and pot
With sudden shot
This printer who had printed " not"
When I had written " now".
I tracked the bounder to his den
Through private information:
I said, " Good afternoon", and then
Explained the situation:
" I'm not a fussy man," I said.
" I smile when you put " rid " for " red "
And " bad " for " bed " and " hoad " for " head "
And " bolge " instead of " bough " .
When " wone " appears in lieu of " wine "
Or if you alter " Cohn " to " Schine " ,
I never make a row.
I know how easy errors are.
But this time you have gone too far
By printing " not " when you knew what
I really wrote was " now " .
Prepare," I said, " to meet your God
Or, as you'd say, your Goo or Bod,
Or possibly your Gow."
A few weeks later into court
I came to stand my trial.
The Judge was quite a decent sort.
He said, " Well, cocky, I'll
Be passing sentence in a jiff,
And so, my poor unhappy stiff,
If you have anything to say,
Now is the moment. Fire away.
You have?"
I said, " And how!
Me lud, the facts I don't dispute.
I did, I own it freely, shoot
This printer through the collar stud.
What else could I have done, me lud?
He'd printed " not " . . ."
The judge said, " What!
When you had written " now " ?
God bless my soul! Gadzooks!" said he.
" The blighters did that once to me.
A dirty trick, I trow.
I hereby quash and override
The jury's verdict. Gosh!" he cried.
" Give me your hand. Yes, I insist,
You splendid fellow! Case dismissed."
(Cheers, and a Voice " Wow-wow!")
A statue stands against the sky,
Lifelike and rather pretty.
'Twas recently erected by
The P.E.N. committee.
And many a passer-by is stirred,
For on the plinth, if that's the word,
In golden letters you may read
" This is the man who did the deed.
His hand set to the plough,
He did not sheathe the sword, but got
A gun at great expense and shot
The human blot who'd printed " not "
When he had written " now " .
He acted with no thought of self,
Not for advancement, not for pelf,
But just because it made him hot
To think the man had printed " not "
When he had written " now " ."