The Register,

September 14, 1938, page 4

WHY EDITORS GET GREY

The editor sat in his uneasy chair,
With scissors and paste at his right.
Before him lay manuscripts, Tearing his hair,
He started a terrible fight.
A friend sent a poem.  “Twas terrible stuff,
With meters and rhymes out of tune.
A good old subscriber sent in a big puff
For a friend.  Well, we didn’t have room.
There was rantings of brain storms, that didn’t make sense,
By those who would see it in print,
And oh what a time to put up a defense,
Without the offense of a hint.
A new farm relief plan came in from the West,
‘Twould solve agricultural woes,
Political discord was found in the rest;
‘Twould turn erstwhile friends into foes.
Commending the government’s plans now in vogue;
Condemning them also in terms
That made ev’ry officer out a big rogue-
That’s why the poor editor squirms.
You’ve got to please every one.  How can it be?
Well, this is the way ‘tmust be done,
Use scissors and paste and blue pencil, you see-
And, a big waste basket and gun.
…
(same page)

A teacher received the following letter from the mother of one of her
pupils:

“Dear Miss -:  Please don’t give Johnny any more homework.  That sum
about how long would it take a man to walk forty times round Trafalgar
Square caused his father to lose a whole day’s work.  Then when he’d
walked it you marked the sum wrong.”

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