Swedegate

A found paper of Sogmarsh — a broadsheet notice from Nettlewick Potato Printers, with a newspaper cutting pinned beneath it by somebody who took their side.

SWEDEGATE

Nettlewick Potato Printers was founded in simpler times— when a potato was just a potato and every impression began with an honest, hand-cut spud.

Now troubling questions have emerged.

Have corners been cut? Have standards been lowered? Have swedes been trimmed, rounded and passed through the presses as genuine potatoes?

Management refuses to confirm or deny the allegations.

Traditionalists call it counterfeiting. Modernists call it root-vegetable innovation. Collectors insist they can tell from the texture. The swedes remain unavailable for comment.

One potato, two potato, Three potato, four— Let one more swede into the press And there’s going to be a war.

Nettlewick Potato Printers Putting the root back into literature since a potato was just a potato.

— and, cut from a newspaper and pinned beneath it —

A DEFENCE OF THE SWEDE

From our Nettlewick correspondent

The Murkminster papers have made much of the so-called scandal at Nettlewick Potato Printers. They claim the company has been trimming swedes into potato-shaped printing blocks, as though this were evidence of dishonesty.

Here in Nettlewick, the matter looks rather different.

In several districts, the potato is recognised currency. A good floury specimen will buy a drink. A sack may settle the rent. Certain long red varieties are still accepted for taxes, provided they have neither sprouted nor been suspiciously polished.

Against that background, what sort of responsible printing house would cut its money in half, dip it in ink and throw it away?

You would not engrave a chapter heading into a sovereign. You would not make a printing block from your weekly wages. Yet outsiders expect the Potato Printers to mutilate perfectly spendable potatoes merely to satisfy their romantic ideas about traditional publishing.

The swede, by contrast, is economical, durable and—outside three excitable parishes—almost entirely worthless. Trimming one to resemble a potato is not counterfeiting unless somebody attempts to spend it. At the printing press, it is simply sensible use of materials.

Perhaps the Potato Printers did begin when a potato was just a potato. But in Sogmarsh, a potato is no longer just a potato.

It is money.

And people tend to notice when you throw money away.