Knit-pickers who don't tow the line will soon have the devil to pay.

The final exam I gave my students at the close of the fall semester asked for the definition of pathetic fallacy, which is John Ruskin's synonym for anthropomorphism.

Said one, "When a noun gets a personality, e.g., cruel sea." Low marks for technical merit, but highest for creative interpretation. Perhaps it was she who produced this evaluation of Comms. 340: "You have to study and do problems to survive in this course ... very knitpicking course." Can't do much about the need to study and to solve problems, but I can and will add nitpicking to the spelling list.

And this leads logically to a letter sent by IABC member Rosemary Ritchie, who communicates for Lucht Engineering, Inc., in Bloomington, Minn. |R.sup.2~ was glancing through the Weekly News, published in Wayzata, when she came upon this: "My regret is that two years of time, effort and money have gone ... for not.'" Observes Ritchie, "The time he spent in English class must have been all for not!" Needed is noun naught.

Thanks to Kathleen Much, editor at the Center for Advanced Study in the Behavioral Sciences, Stanford, Calif., for this cite from an article in Texas Monthly: "Soon a single lightbulb shown at the curve ... the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel." And this is the proverbial earspell syndrome yet again: shone, a past tense and a past participle of shine, is here called for. Ms. Much also spotted the fumbled phrase "tow the ... line" (tow for toe) in an article in a communication magazine. The sentence suggested that those who didn't toe the line would "truly have the devil to pay ...."

This is an expression with a remarkable history. As John Ciardi says of it in his Browser's Dictionary, the devil to pay means "There will be a hard time coming, but not, as often supposed, in the sense of standing before the devil's bar to atone for one's sins. The original expression was the devil to pay and no pitch hot." On early sailing vessels, the word devil was used to identify certain seams in the hull, e.g., the keel seam; the word pay comes on board from Old French payer, which meant "to apply pitch."

Ciardi continues, "When it became necessary to 'pay the devil' (as Captain Cook had to do in the Pacific), the ship was worked onto a suitable beach at high tide and careened. The pitch (preheated by a shore party assigned to the task) was then applied to the keel seam in frantic haste, for the work had to be finished before the tide returned and refloated the ship. And so the related expression between the devil (the seam to be pitched) and the deep blue sea (the returning tide)."

* Glenn McGillivray, who is manager of corporate communication at Personal Insurance Co., Etobicoke, Ont., wrote with this observation about a piece he read in The Financial Post: "In describing how Israel uses handwriting analysis to test combat pilots, journalist Katherine Gay states 'The country's jet fighters submit handwriting samples every three months to gauge their mental health.' One, I didn't know aircraft could write, and two, I didn't think a hunk of metal had a measurable mental health level. Jet fighter usually refers to the aircraft, fighter pilot usually refers to the operator." McGillivray's point is valid: Crime fighters fight crime, fire fighters fight fire, but jet fighters don't fight jets ... not if they want to keep flying.

The Ontario editor also twitted The Globe and Mail for carrying this Reuters News Agency lead: "LONDON -- British rock star Elton John sold jewellery |sic~ that he is bored of wearing in London this week ...." Asks McG., "Why sell it? He may not be bored of wearing it in London next week, and what will he do when he travels? It's amazing what a simple comma can do!" That, or perhaps recast to "In London this week, British rock star Elton John sold etc ...."

* The Boston Globe recently displayed an AP photo showing a caricature of French prime minister Edouard Balladur on a poster held aloft by a demonstrator critical of attempts by the conservative government to increase state funding for private schools. The balloon on the poster says "Pour nos pauvres riches, s'il vous plait." The Globe/AP translation in the underline reads "for our rich people, please."

Mais non, messieurs ... vous avez screwed up. Failure to translate pauvres negates the irony that is the raison d'etre of the sign: "For our poor rich people."

* A local newspaper selected a politician's comment as a pullquote and created the best surf 'n turf mixed metaphor of the season. Boston mayoral aide Joseph Fisher said, "I'm just offering my experience and trying to act as a bit of a rudder to get things on an even keel. I just show the little land mines along the way."

They that go down to the sea in ships should fear no land mines.

* Here is the text of a sticker stuck on a shirt I purchased: "Any variations or irregularities you might find on your garment are part of the uniqueness of the design. The shirt you have purchased is one of a kind." Now let's see -- we'll lift that first sentence, substitute in this article for on your garment, print the text on Postits, and our copy approval hassles are history.

Alden Wood, lecturer on editorial procedures at Simmons College, Boston, Mass., writes and lectures on language usage. He is a retired insurance industry vice president of advertising and public relations. (His Internet code is awood