Oofy here: Editorial: time to talk horses. Bought Gi-gi at the Stowe Fair. Crossed the gipsy’s palm with silver and she said the horse was mine. Couldn’t run faster if she had 5 legs. Matter of fact. You can say that about her. Fact is. If you were a horse and had 5 legs you’d spend all your time thinking which hoof to go down on next. Never get anywhere.
The Type-Setter is to be found in transit. He is either running upstairs from the editorial sofa to the observatory in the attic where the Professor contemplates the works of Repton, or downstairs in the other direction. Orders from the editor fly one way, rebuttals and refusals fly the other. ‘Rush! Rush! Always rush!’ he can be heard to say. It is his business to transmute the sparks and ferocities of his colleagues into the honeyed purr of mutual delight.
Oofy here: Editorial: Tell me if it’s the same for you: when I hear a fellow speaking. What they say makes perfect sense. Beautifully expressed. A treat. When I think of saying anything m’self, I get plenty of phrases alright. Jumbled up though. Can’t work out which comes first.