The masters of punctuation have given writers two squiggles to worry about. There is the lower squiggle, known as the comma, and the upper squiggle, the apostrophe. Both of them came to England in the 1500s. They have been perplexing writers ever since.

Let us worry about the comma tomorrow. Today’s topic is the singular upper squiggle. The double upper squiggle is another matter entirely.

“Marlin knew who’s car had the power,” read a headline in North Carolina. Across the continent, an ad heralded San Bernardino Valley College as “one of the most prestigious community college’s in Southern California.” In Florida, a real estate firm announced “the opening of it’s new Port St. Lucie office.” In Colorado, Papa Murphy’s pizza, said Papa Murphy, “is always on it’s way.”

Why is the apostrophe such a problem for so many writers? Beats me. The upper squiggle has but two purposes – to indicate possession, as in Papa’s pizza, or to indicate a contraction, as in don’t hold the anchovies.

Well, you say, if the apostrophe is used correctly in “the firm’s” office, what’s wrong with “it’s” office? Consider some Horrid Examples:

In Cincinnati a headline asked, “How soon for HDTV?” and the editor answered, “It’s future is unclear.” In Columbus, Ohio, a Scripps-Howard correspondent recalled the old days of the Food and Drug Administration: “It’s activities seldom made the newspaper front pages.” In Syracuse, N.Y., the Laubach Literacy Foundation reminded contributors that it “keeps fund-raising costs below 7 percent of it’s operating budget.”

The problem here is that “it’s” can mean only “it is” or rarely “it has.” It’s a contraction, in a class with “don’t” for “do not,” and “can’t” for “cannot.” If you ask me why “won’t” means “will not,” I will explain by telling you to take a lunch break. Why is there a “wouldn’t” but not a “willn’t”? Why is it “shan’t” instead of “shalln’t”? Who put the “ain” in “ain’t”? These are among the mysteries of English spelling and punctuation. Call the cops.

What is especially puzzling is the unnecessary squiggle. The publishers of Biography magazine provided a gift-subscription order card: “Your friend’s will see stars for an entire year!” Why the apostrophe? One friend, two friends.

A conservative newsletter spoke mildly of certain Democrats: “They’re behavior was shameless, dishonest and beneath contempt.” An apostrophe had crept into “their behavior” and turned it into “they are behavior.” Shameless.

Most of the problems of the upper squiggle involve the possessive form of nouns ending in “s.”

The Associated Press instructs us to add an apostrophe-“s” unless the next word begins with “s.” For the AP, it’s the “the hostess’s bottom” and “the hostess’ seat.” If a proper name ends in “s,” the AP’s rule is to add only the squiggle: Achilles’ heel, Dickens’ novels, Kansas’ senators.

For good or ill, the AP’s rule is not everybody’s rule. Two years ago, The Washington Post reported “Jeffords’s decision” in one paragraph and “Jeffords’s switch” in another. The Post’s E.J. Dionne Jr. wrote of “Congress’s will,” “Congress’s intent,” “Congress’s efforts” and finally of “Congress’ legislative power.”

My own rule on these sibilants is to spell them as they’re pronounced. I would write of “the Times’s rule” because we make an extra syllable out of the possessive apostrophe: “the Timesuz rule.” By the same token, I would have (would’ve?) stuck with “Jeffords’ switch” and “Jeffords’ decision” because there is no extra syllable. It’s plain old “Jeffords.” Whatever became of the fellow?

Fellow writers, the whole purpose of punctuation is to ease a reader’s path through the jungle of our prose.

If we write “it’s purpose” when we mean “its purpose,” we will throw our readers on their fannies.

Let us watch our upper squiggles! They deserve our loving care.

James Kilpatrick is a syndicated columnist.

Copy the Story Link