To sift the news, extract, refine,
\nWe’ll start, they say, with nine, nine, nine,
\nThe Fleet St. muttered: news comes late
\nLet’s get them down to eight, eight, eight.
\nThe Treasury mildly swore to heaven
\nThey’d soon reduce each eight to seven.
\nThe Commons cried: confound their tricks,
\nThey can’t need more than six, six, six,
\nAnd if they’re keen, alert, alive,
\nThey ought to do with five, five, five,
\nThe public shrieked: more news, much more,
\nReduce your staff to four, four, four,
\nLord Camrose spoke: leave this to me,
\nI’ll run it all on three, three, three.
\nThe pundits wrote: Now this won’t do,
\nThe right amount is two, two, two.
\nTheir task was hardly yet begun
\nWhen lo, they dropped to one, one, one,
\nBefore they’d done one half they ought
\nThey quietly dwindled into nought.<\/p>\n
Anonymous Ministry of Information official, 1939.
\nFrom Nicholas Cull’s “Selling War,” 1995, Oxford U Press.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
To sift the news, extract, refine, We’ll start, they say, with nine, nine, nine, The Fleet St. muttered: news comes late Let’s get them down to eight, eight, eight. The Treasury mildly swore to heaven They’d soon reduce each eight … Continue reading