The fiddler

A cautionary tale for those who don’t trust their writers.

Author: Traditional.
To be sung in the tune of E,C or D.

There was a great fiddler
Of somewhat renown
He could fiddle in every key
See he couldn’t quite write
But fiddle he might
And fiddle he diddle did he 

The ashen rolled eyes
Upon yon scribes faces
As he fiddled in soliloquies
‘Would yer darn look at that!’
They’d fume at his back
‘My copy is now lengthened by three!’ 

He didn’t just fiddle
But twiddled and diddled
Till it became higgledy, piggledy
‘Twould then take ten scribes
A fortday and fortnight
To craft into something you’d read 

In the wee hours of Tuesday
All the scribes gathered
And discussed a mutiny
‘If he fiddles again
we will taketh his pen
and ram it up his Aberdeen!’ 

The next day the fiddler
Was presented the best copy
Any scribe had ever written or seen
But instead of high praises
Came fits full of rages
‘THIS WASN’T WRITTEN BY ME!!’

He didn’t just fiddle
Twiddle or diddle
He piddled and riddled his twee
Said ‘GO PRESENT THAT!’
And the scribes got the sack
‘HOW DARE YOU OUTFIDDLE ME!’

Now here’s where the story
Becomes a bit vague
And varies considerably
But you can take it from me
Who was third on the scene
‘Twas a 0.6mm Red Sharpie.