“I spent my time on earth, my lord, in reading the yellow press.”
Thus Tomlinson let out his voice and shouted in distress.
Then the devil gripped him by the hair, and redder grew his face:
“If that be true, ye dare not spend one minute in this place;
Wot ye the price of good pit coal that I must pay?” asked he,
“That ye rank yourself so fit for hell and ask no leave of me?
Go back to earth with lip unsealed—go back with an open eye,
And carry my word to the sons of men, or ever ye come to die,
That the readers of the yellow press on earth may bide and dwell.
But we do not want them down below to corrupt the hordes of hell.”