The Nizam of Hyderabad, an Indian prince who is freed from the cares of state by the industry of his executive council, has decided not to hide his poetic talents under the Indian equivalent of a bushel. He has issued his verse in a special velvet-bound edition which all good subjects will buy, at $55 the copy. The Nizam, who knows a thing or two about this business of ruling after all, thinks that under these conditions his verse may help to balance the budget of Hyderabad.

His exalted Highness may be a genius of the first water, but he sets an alarming precedent for those nations still governed by a sovereign. There is no limit to the amount of poetry a prince might have published, to be sold to all loyal subjects at a price sufficient to build a couple of battleships. For those of ample means, however, this would be a small matter; the real menace of that the royal author might command his books to be read. A revolution among the educated classes would probably follow such a decree.

There are those, on the other hand, who look with bitter envy on the Nizam. Imagine the feelings of a starving poet in his Greenwich Village garret, when he reads of this princely exploit. What books could he shower upon the world, had he only the power! He can comfort himself with the thought that the Nizam's works, at their present price at least, will probably not sell widely outside of Hyderabad.