The Truth Read Online Free PDF

as an anal retentive with a poor grip.
    There were no flies on C.M.O.T. Dibbler. He would have charged them rent.
    With barely a conscious thought, William pulled out his notebook, licked his pencil, and wrote, very carefully, in his private shorthand:
    “Amzg scenes hv ocrd in the Ct with the Openg o t Prntg Engn at the Sgn o t Bucket by G. Goodmountain, Dwf, which hs causd mch intereƒt amng all prts inc. chfs of comerƒe.”
    He paused. The conversation at the other end of the room was definitely taking a more conciliatory turn.
    “ How much a thousand?” said the Bursar.
    “Even cheaper for bulk rates,” said Goodmountain. “Small runs no problem.”
    The Bursar’s face had that warm glaze of someone who deals in numbers and can see one huge and inconvenient number getting smaller in the very near future, and in those circumstances philosophy doesn’t stand much of a chance. And what was visible of Goodmountain’s face had the cheerful scowl of someone who’s worked out how to turn lead into still more gold.
    “Well, of course, a contract of this size would have to be ratified by the Archchancellor himself,” said the Bursar, “but I can assure you that he listens very carefully to everything I say.”
    “I’m sure he does, Your Lordship,” said Goodmountain cheerfully.
    “Uh, by the way,” said the Bursar, “do you people have an Annual Dinner?”
    “Oh, yes. Definitely,” said the dwarf.
    “When is it?”
    “When would you like it?”
    William scribbled: “Mch businƒs sms likly wth a Certain Educational Body in t Ct,” and then, because he had a truly honest nature, he added, “we hear.”
    Well, that was pretty good going. He’d got one letter away only this morning and already he had an important note for the next one—
    —except, of course, the customers weren’t expecting another one for almost a month. He had another certain feeling that by then no one would be very interested. On the other hand, if he didn’t tell them about it, someone would be bound to complain. There had been all that trouble with the rain of dogs in Treacle Mine Road last year, and it wasn’t as if that had even happened.
    But even if he got the dwarfs to make the type really big, one item of gossip wasn’t really going to go very far.
    Blast.
    He’d have to scuttle around a bit and find some more.
    On an impulse, he wandered over to the departing Bursar.
    “Excuse me, sir,” he said.
    The Bursar, who was feeling in a very cheerful mood, raised an eyebrow in a good-humored way.
    “Hmm?” he said. “It’s Mr. de Worde, isn’t it?”
    “Yes, sir. I—”
    “I’m afraid we do all our own writing down at the University,” said the Bursar.
    “I wonder if I could just ask you what you think of Mr. Goodmountain’s new printing engine, sir?” said William.
    “Why?”
    “Er…Because I’d quite like to know? And I’d like to write it down for my newsletter. You know? Views of a leading member of Ankh-Morpork’s thaumaturgical establishment?”
    “Oh?” The Bursar hesitated. “This is the little thing you send out to the Duchess of Quirm and the Duke of Sto Helit and people like that, isn’t it?”
    “Yes, sir,” said William. Wizards were terrible snobs.
    “Er. Well, then…you can say that I said it is a step in the right direction that will…er…be welcomed by all forward-thinking people and will drag the city kicking and screaming into the Century of the Fruitbat.” He watched eagle-eyed as William wrote this down. “And my name is Dr. A. A. Dinwiddie, D.M. (7th), D. Thau., B.Occ., M.Coll., B.F. That’s Dinwiddie with an O .”
    “Yes, Dr. Dinwiddie. Er…the Century of the Fruitbat is nearly over, sir. Would you like the city to be dragged kicking and screaming out of the Century of the Fruitbat?”
    “Indeed.”
    William wrote this down. It was a puzzle why things were always dragged kicking and screaming. No one ever seemed to want to, for example, lead them gently by the