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134

The Zankiwank

“Ah! I thought I should find a customer between Michaelmas and May Day,” cried Jorumgander the Younger, quite cheerfully. “The beauty of these pens is that they never tell a story.”

“But suppose you want to write a story?”

“That is a different thing. If you have the ability to write a story you won’t want a Magic Pen. These pens are only for every-day use. For example: if you want to write to your charwoman to tell her you have got the toothache, and you haven’t got the toothache, the Magic Pen refuses to lend itself to telling a—a——”

“Crammer,” suggested Willie.

“Crammer. Thank you. I don’t know what it means, but crammer is the correct word. The Magic Pen will simplify the truth whether you wish to tell it or not.”

“I do not understand,” whispered Maude.

“Let me try to explain,” said Jorumgander the Younger politely. “The Magic Pen will only write exactly what you think—what is in your mind, what you ought to say, whether you wish to or not.”