No. 1259: The winners
Jaspistos reports: Competitors were asked for a plausible piece of prose containing the words, but not necessarily the punctuation, of at least 10 clues in the Crossword in our 5 March issue.
Congratulations all round. There were some prodigious feats of incorporation, though they were often more risible than plausible. J. Gill contrived to use no fewer than 21 clues, John Cox crammed his 10 re- quired clues into a mere 46 words, and An- drew Hodgson was the only competitor to make 13 down look at home — in his description of some violent but unspecified sport: 'Some of the evolutions are more than likely to rupture one. (A 'follower" follows in Ireland to render first aid.)' The Becher's Brook, though, was 'Pure water — puff for a Highland galley?' Only one of you attempted it, but didn't stay in the sad- dle.
There is a long roll of honourable men- tions, headed by Andrew Hodgson and featuring M. L. Booker, N. Y. Gray, A. R. Leigh, Peter Norman and George Moor. The winners below receive £10 each, and, if he sends his name and whereabouts, 'Junius' will get both his money and his bonus bottle of Muscat de Beaumes de Venise.
I had seen my Lord in a pickle after a party, but his face was never so prosaically green as when he contemplated the weird bit of junketing that occurred that fateful night. I would not harshly criticise the foreign pimp who abducted her Ladyship from this quiet place (the embassy in Cairo) as her morals were doubtful. Choosing an obvious means of ingress (never have I seen my Lord so wild about a residence's window left open), he departed with his spoil. A fight in a Moslem shrine, where my Lord followed, a knave's place in the outskirts of town used for immoral practices, only impressed my Lady with her abductor's attractions. My Lord — showing an author's concern about partition — is writing a novel about the experience. Her allowance severed, my Lady and her paramour will suffer in conjunction abroad as a result.
(Junius)
What a day! We're here at last. The journey was a nightmare. We obviously caught the story- teller's up-train, packed with old soldiers rivall- ing each other in narrating their heroic adven- tures, from trying to spoil a fight in a Moslem shrine to rescuing a Chinese warlord in a pickle The Spectator 26 March 1983 after a party — a weird bit of junketing, by all garden — prosaically green at the momen!.,_` accounts. got key from Melissa, a backward girl with a past cheek. It's a quiet place, but problems galore -- birds' droppings, the less said the better. W, e managed to get a meal to settle father in. Thankfully, he was soon engrossed in the grand- children's letters. There'll be plenty to do in the, shall plant goldenrod, poppies and other brign in front of her — no bottom, though, to her fire's smoky, tap's a non-starter; drips. About However, we eventually reached the cottage,
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things. (O. Smitil) Monsignor Quixote imbibed with the cornmuoist Mayor a prosaically green bottle of Chartreuse' type liqueur. Their vast paella was garnished with an unusual vegetable plant (in currencY abroad cheap, in Britain costly). It was a meal t° satisfy however monstrous a greed.(Sate: between Guadalimar and Segura, where it grow' in profusion, the aforementioned legume, falsa de oro, is sometimes confused with inedible plant goldenrod.) Like a drunken lord in a pickle after a party, Heaven!' cries Monsignor, starting uP. ‘T1int not even allowing the meal to settle, 'Father was a weird bit of junketing!' But the MaYor already away, looking for a quiet place micturate, Alas, he disturbs the no longer sweerf song of a bird — one that's settled in a clumP drips about bird's nearby nest.r' alfalfa — and, almost a urinating non-storte (D. P. M. Mich-3° Norman Boiler's new novel, A Quiet Place, is11°, simple storyteller's up-train tale for the borea commuter. As he might put it, it's a weird bit of junketing — involved and modernistic. Herb Green, the hero, decides to plant goldenrod on 3 missile site as an anti-war ecological protest. Th,e action is not narrated directly, but through h.15 , grandchildren's letters. They are unsYmpathenc and harshly criticise the foreign pimp, Krojac..,14' whom Green has hired as a bodYguall',,' Prosaically, Green has defended this choice 0'; the grounds that 'you fight fire with fire'. I311 there are complications. Green's daughter' Lilith, who brought a home-cooked meal t° settle father in, falls in love with Krojack. 111,c, corrupt pimp shares her feelings, why he can say. Gooseberry-like, Green becomes 8, unwanted intruder on the couple's extravagatl; sex-life. They kill the old man and flee to I rela.du where, alas, the author's concern about partition obscures the human drama of his characters- Once again, Boiler's craft suffers from his obsessions. (Basil Ransome-Davies) Boy, this is some holiday, Gramps. Yesterday: we gatecrashed a mosque! — a quiet place untdiii` hosted the annual Anglo-Islamic Society bas What a weird bit of junketing! I saw more one lord in a pickle. After a party like that, not surprised. The food was horrendous. W11,1.5 we were allowing the meal to settle, Father 1114 "1 usual way assailed the booze, which was brewe;1 from some obscure plant (goldenrod?), and tile, turned (prosaically) green. A local brothel-owne` f provided the entertainment and as Billy said, 00 over-harshly, criticise the foreign if Yfa like but he knows his girls. Later, Billy startet:1 rumpus. Normally, I'm not one to spoil a !lilt.; In a Moslem shrine, though, decencies should be observed. Why it started, he can't saY. G.61°5 stepping German tourists just irritate guess. Anyway, Gramps, expect another of Ycali errant grandchildren's letters soon. Tara.
(Ewan Smith) (Ewan Smith)
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