Mea Culpa
Or: "A Clockwork's DEAMING? Really?"
My morning began like any other, until I heard a gentle tapping at my study window. There, perched on the sill amid my struggling herb garden, sat a mourning dove wearing what appeared to be a tiny silver letter-carrier's bag and a rather disapproving expression.
The dove, after ensuring I noticed its official Garden Post Office credentials (pinned neatly to its letter-bag), presented me with a sealed envelope that smelled faintly of library dust and properly brewed tea. The wax seal bore the impression of what looked like a teapot surrounded by books.
Inside, I found a rather stern editorial memorandum from one Cornelius Thistledown of #12 Foxglove Row, the Garden. It seems that in my haste to share Claude Moreau's recently discovered tales with the world, I had committed what can only be described as a most grievous oversight in scholarly documentation.
The word "Dreaming" - a rather crucial element of the title - was rendered without its essential "R".
The mourning dove waited patiently while I read the letter, occasionally adjusting its mail-carrier's cap and giving meaningful glances at the tin of biscuits on my desk. I couldn't help but notice it wore a tiny badge that read "Special Courier - Irregular Occurrences Division." Here, produced accurately and in full, is the letter I received:
EDITORIAL MEMORANDUM
From the Desk of Cornelius Thistledown
#12 Foxglove Row, The Garden
RE: Most Irregular Typographical Occurrence
My Dear Sir,
It has come to my attention that in your rather hasty preparation of these manuscripts for what you call "digital distribution" (a concept I find most irregular in itself), you have committed what can only be described as a most grievous oversight in scholarly documentation. The word "Dreaming" - a rather crucial element of the title, I might add - was rendered without its essential "R".
Most irregular indeed! Most unprecedented! Most...
several ink blots suggest agitated whisker-twitching
I must remind you that proper academic protocol requires no less than three separate proofreads, preferably under optimal lighting conditions (morning glory-filtered sunlight being ideal), with appropriate tea service at hand. While I appreciate your enthusiasm for sharing these accounts with a wider audience, such haste inevitably leads to... scholarly shudder ...typographical anomalies.
Do be more careful in future. The Library's reputation is at stake! Miss Hazel has already had to calm several distressed volumes in the Proper Spelling section.
With Concerned Regards,
Cornelius Thistledown
Chief Archivist of Irregular Phenomena
P.S. - The mushrooms behind your herb patch wish me to note that they spotted the error immediately but were too philosophically inclined to mention it.
P.P.S. - Perhaps we should discuss implementing a more rigorous system of notation? I have several theories about the proper application of bookworm-based proofreading techniques...
Of course, I've corrected the error immediately. Though I fear Mr. Thistledown's suggestion about implementing "a more rigorous system of notation" involving "bookworm-based proofreading techniques" may have to wait until I can properly stock my desk with the required tea service and morning glory-filtered lighting apparatus.
The mourning dove departed with a formal bow and what I swear was a slightly judgmental backward glance at my rather disorganized desk. The mushrooms behind my herb patch, I'm told, spotted the error immediately but were too philosophically inclined to mention it.
I've since installed a proper window perch for future Garden correspondence. One never knows when Mr. Thistledown might feel the need to send additional scholarly guidance.