How to be Insulting to Frauds

An aspiring young poet showed his latest work to an older writer to ask his opinion of it.

'This is a magnificent poem,' said the older man. 'Did you write it unaided?'

'Yes, sir, every word of it,' said the poet.

Then, I'm very glad to meet you, Lord Byron,' said the older man. 'For I was under the impression that you had died at Missolonghi a good many years ago.'