Punch discovered a misprint in one of my peace poems in the Irish Times. My verses had depicted a family dreaming of the homecoming of their soldier from the wars, while
All night he lies beneath the stars,
And dreams no more out there.
The Irish Times printed it as
All night he lies beneath the stairs,
and made matters worse by adding, `Only a true artist could achieve this effect of quietly hopeless tragedy.' Punch seized upon this, and said that if I could express a wish for the New Year, it would probably be to meet the editor of the Irish Times. Oddly enough, a week or two later I found myself sitting next to him at a public dinner and, as an opening gambit in our conversation, remarked that we had recently met in Punch. To my surprise he blushed violently, and said something about having dismissed two printers, for it was the fourth time during the last month or two he had found himself in Punch .
From Alfred Noyes, Two Worlds for Memory (1953), pp. 182-183.
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