Thought it was Poetry.

Kaipara and Waitemata Echo, 15 May 1914, Page 2

Thought it was Poetry.

A celebrated journalist once concluded an important leading article with a carefully-composed and eloquent peroration. To his dismay, however, a printer's idiosyncrasy caused this peroration to appear to the world cut up into separate lines, and posing as a postcard quotation. The irate journalist, conscious that some of his best work had been spoiled, rushed wildly into the editor's sanctum and, pointing to the printed muddle, excitedly exclaimed: "Look here at this. See what that fiendish printer has done. He has ruined — utterly ruined—my work !" The editor, with that serene composure ai.-l affability which :s so characteristic of the race, listened quietly to a recital of the printer's crimes, and then gravely arose. "I will see justice done, my good fellow," he murmured ; and *then, armed with a copy of the paper, strode into the composing-room. "Jenkins, did you set up this ?" A compositor of the good old school came forward. "Yes, sir, that is some of my work." "And very fine work it is, too," exclaimed the editor. "Do you know this is some of Mr. S 's finest, prose, and you have been thickheaded enough to set it up for poetry ?" "Prose, is it, sir ?" muttered the compositor. "Well, 1 looked at that passage, and I read it for'ards, and I read it! back'ards, and I read it likewise upside down, but I couldn't make head nor tail nor common sense out of it, so I thought it must be poetry, and printed it as such !"