quite an ordinary person
wrote an ordinary book;
'twas the first he'd ever written,
so a lot of pains he took.
from a two-a-penny paper
he some little factlets[2] culled,
with some "stories of celebrities"
by which the public's gulled.
then of course he had a hero,
and likewise a heroine,
and a villain, and a villainess,
whose nefarious design
was most properly defeated
in the chapter last but one,—
which described the happy ending—
there you were! the thing was done.
but, somehow, it didn't answer.
"nothing strange," you'll say, "in that";
and, indeed, perhaps there wasn't
very much to wonder at,
for the book was really never
calculated fame to win,
and the author's coat grew shabby
and his body very thin.
and he pondered, and he pondered
o'er his misery and ills,
till, one day, he met a party
who was posting up some bills.
"what's the matter?" asked this person,
"you are looking mighty glum.
books not selling? advertise 'em.
that's the dodge to make things hum."
"look at 'whatsit's soap,' and so on!
look at 'thingumbobby's pills!'
it's the advertising does it,
and the owner's pocket fills.
puff 'em up; the public likes it;
and—(this from behind his hand)—
it doesn't matter if it's
not quite true, you understand."
so the author wrote another
book, and brought in tsars, and kings,
and popes, and noble ladies—
queens, and duchesses, and things
and "the problem" of the moment;
and some politics, and cram,
with tit-bits of foreign language
mixed with literary jam.
and in type he had it stated
that "the world was all agog"
for this "epoch-making" novel,
and—their memory to jog—
the public had it daily
in all kinds of sorts of ways
thrust upon them, till it set
their curiosity ablaze.
and from brixton unto ponder's end
'twas daily talked about
this wonderful new novel
long, long, long before 'twas out;
i forget how many hundred
thousand copies have been sold;
but it's brought the lucky author
notoriety, and gold.
this judicious advertising
has indeed brought him success;
he's the "lion" of the moment
in society (big s).
it is even said that royalty——
but there! i mustn't say,
for he'll tell you all about it
in another book some day.
2. a factlet is nearly a fact.
