SPECTATOR COMPETITIONS—No. 3

Report by Hilary Brett-Smith 4 prize is offered for nine lines to complete a poem beginning : "Some fifty years before These three had shared a bungalow In Bangalore. . . ."

These lines evoked a gratifyingly wide range of nostalgia, passion and geography, although a number of competitors put.themselves out of court by deviating too markedly from the rhythm and rhyme scheme of the original. I was sorry to have to rule out on these grounds Mr. W. M. Spafford's Maisie, for instance, who "With What She Knew From The Turn of the Screw Kept house fqr the brothers James."

Other distinguished trios were the Reverend F. C. Gill's Gandhi, Kipling and Bernard Shaw (who tripped up on a cockney rhyme among other things) and Peter Seward's "Lady Astor, Anna Pauker And Mistinguette."

who failed to fulfil their collective promise. I also liked the idea of Howard Cape's trio of elephants ridden by three hirsute Gurkhas at a circus. Interesting supernumeraries ranged from some unusually active man-eating tarantulas to "the charming and disarming belles of Bow."

There was, naturally enough, plenty of local colour from the gorgeous East as well as the Middle West, from Idaho to Monte- bello, and the swamps of Borneo to where "In fifty low degrees The naughty Cingalese Lies frozen in Tibet."

but the more homely Wormwood Scrubs and Bognor Regis also found their laureates.

Although frequently packed with character and action, the verses too often failed of their climax. Mr. H. Pitchforth, for instance, started well: "And later, on the stairs, Captains discreet, had passed incognito In Armentieres" but dwindled sadly: among honourable exceptions must be numbered W. M. Chisholm's squaw who finally lost her temper and beat them up "With many a blow And sold them both as tongue galore In tins rectangular."

and Captain W. R. S. Robertson, whose otherwise unalarming tale ended "There's only one thing more.

The other two had twins, and so They now are four."

Many tragedies were caused by our prevailing controls and restrictions, some few by election fever: perhaps the hardest case was that of the three who transporled their bungalow with infinite toil from Bangalore to Waterloo, "sought a PERMIT, failed, and so Were forced to burn their bungalow."

A first prize of three pounds goes to R. Kennard Davis and a second of two pounds to G. J. Milne: honourable mention to Mrs.

F. M. Keen for her first five lines, but she needed a pithier ending and a better rhyme scheme.

* * * * FIRST PRIZE Some fifty years before These three had shared a bungalow In Bangalore—and now One is wearing dungarees And serving sangaree to Cingalese In Sihppore ; And one, that played the banjo in The bungalow at Bangalore To mandarins at Mandalay now plays the mandolin, But sadder far, Andalusian Ann is eating marzipan' In Zanzibar! SECOND PRIZE Some fifty years before These three had shared a bungalow In Bangalore.

No Dumas, fits or pere, Has so far told the tale of these " Trois Mousquetaires."

Yet one, an honoured name, .Gainst fearful odds has fought and won His way to fame.

He's known both near and far, He writes, he speaks, he paints and smokes A big cigar.

HONOURABLE MENTION Some fifty years before, These three had shared a bungalow In Bangalore, And every night, when they were tight, They used to shoot at folk on sight, Thus making enemies galore Among the loving kith and kin Of those they carelessly did in.

And so, At last they had to go, And never more Set foot in Bangalore.