The Eternal Hoodlums of the Endless Quest
For this was the night that I dreamt a voice told me, " 'Goldwork, Inkwork, Footwork'? How Saxon of you! Why not 'Glitterati, Literati, Flitterati'?"
At this horrendous linguistic sacrilege, I awoke in a cold sweat. But it was merely a hefty supper and a cramped foot that had given rise to such thoughts. I think.