The Newspaper Thief

There’s the man who steals your airship, and the man who steals you cash,

And the man who robs your larder of its bacon and its hash;

There’s the man who grabs your clothing when it’s hung upon the line,

And the chap who steals your poultry when the stars but faintly shine.

They are all low-down productions of this grasping human race,

And sometimes the law provides them with a proper resting place.

But there’s one obnoxious robber who should know the prison game;

He’s the man who steals the products of your pen and steals your name.

We could well forgive the robber who “mistakes” our new silk hat

For one he’s been a-wearing for ten years, or more than that;

We could overlook the humor, as we frequently have done,

Of leaving a silk umbrella and finding a cotton one.

We could e’en forgive a horse thief, since we’ve bought a limousine,

And the man who robs our larder we could cotton to, I ween;

But the thief who steals our verses, and destroys the credit due,

He should have verse for a diet till his crop is black and blue.

June 2, ‘09