THE MURDEROUS PEN

Evening Star, Issue 23729, 9 November 1940, Page 3

THE MURDEROUS PEN

[By_X.Y.] A simple Proverb, Gentlemen, Which cannot be ignored,, Has stated plainly that the Pea Is mightier than the Sword.. You needn’t sniff and smile ah me; ‘ That Proverb’s true as true can be. The Battleship and Submarine, The Mine and Bombing Plane, The whole confounded War Machine—* May tell their Tale of Slain. For War is not a subtle Plan For lenghtening the Life of Man. If I desired (which God forbid) To live a hundred Years, I should not pick on Arms amid The manifold Careers Which Life provides to feed the. Mind And work the Muscles of Mankind. Yet, howsoever Guns may roar And Armaments may kill. The Writer’s Handiwork is more Sublimely lethal still; When Authors, in a private Place, Sit down, to slay the Human Race. The Soldier shoots to kill his Foe And guard his Native Land, Or else for Lebensraum —although I fail to understand How being blown to Bits can give The luckless Victim Room to live. But oh! the Alan who writes or pounds An Instrument with Keys, He does not slaughter Folk on Ground* So ethical as these. His Skin is safe, his Heart is cold} He massacres for Love of Gold. He leaves a Body in the Woods, A Carcass in the Street; And Folk in decent Neighbourhoods Are horrified to meet The Fruit of his nefarious Scheme Suspended from a Cellar Beam. He scatters grim Remains by Scores, (It doesn’t matter where). In lonely Mansions on the Moors, Or some suburban Square, ■ Or some convenient Garden Shed, He leaves the Violently Dead. He sallies out upon his Hunt On Violence intent, By drowning, Pistol Shot, or blunt And weighty Instrument; Or, pushed from sqme convenient Cliff* You find his Victim, stark and stiff. It’s Poison does the Trick sometimes. Or Strangling, for a Change.. His Methods of committing Crime* Are various and strange. He doesn’t care one single Pin . Which Way he. does the Fellow in. And yet, although the Deed be done In Daylight. Dusk, or Mirk, It is the fatal Pen alone That does the Dirty Work, And scatters Corpses far and wide Across the peaceful Countryside. And so, O Penguins clothed in green. And other Books that thrill, Bear Witness, that the War Machine* However it may kill, Achieves no Slaughter on a Scale To rival the Detective Tale.