“Ay, ay,” said Nicholas, with a twinkle in his shrewd eyes, “entirely its own.”
“Indeed so,” said Caxton, “and here let us make to ourselves another and a final maxim of guidance. All things that any man will pay for, these we will print, whether true or not, for that doth not concern us. But if one cometh here with any strange tale of a remedy or aught else and wishes us to make advertisement of it and hath no money to pay for it, then shall he be cast forth out of this officina, or office, if I may call it so, neck and crop into the street. Nay, I will have me one of great strength ever at the door ready for such castings.”
A murmur of approval went round the group.
Caxton would have spoken further but at the moment the sound of a bell was heard booming in the street without.
“‘Tis the Great Bell,” said Caxton, “ringing out the hour of noon. Quick, all of you to your task. Lay me the forms on the press and speed me the work. We start here a great adventure. Mark well the maxims I have given you, and God speed our task.”
And in another hour or so, the prentice boys of the master printer were calling in the streets the sale of the first English newspaper.
XVII—IN THE GOOD TIME AFTER THE WAR
[Footnote: An extract from a London newspaper of 1916.]