Thank you, Mr Timothy Holt-Wilson for bringing to my attention yet one more shameless theft of a priceless Alfred B Mittington find, to wit:
The fact is that I ought to have patented my felicitous jeu-de-mots in time (i.e. many decades ago), and I would now be rich in royalties and embarrassingly generous damages allotted by the courts. But Alfred B Mittington is an idealist, dear reader. Although some witty dunce with a very high opinion of himself once said that only a blockhead would ever write for anything except money, this is of course untrue of the Real Artist. The Veritable Wordmonger, like myself, writes only to seduce the Muse and please his public. Not for heaps of filthy lucre which he then lays out in gin and tobacco as he scribbles funny dictionaries that nobody ever asked for.
May your thieveries eat out the liver of your karma, O ye shameless rogues!
How! I have spoken. Alfred B Mittington.
PS In a comment which I have since forcefully deleted from this MY blog, yet another funny fellow dared to doubt the authenticity of my brilliant find. 'Are you sure that you came up with it first, Mr know-it-all Mittington?' were more or less the words this illiterate baboon dared to entrust to the pixels. Well I am, ye scoundrel, if only because I first coined the phrase in the context of the Iron Duke, i.e. good old Arthus Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, in a 1934 article of incomparable insights called 'Tally-Ho in Talavera' (see my Collected Works, vol. xxxiv, p. 456-498). Wanna argue with that, you suggestive foulmouthed fool??