XIMENES CROSSWORD No. 227

CATEGORIES

1.  J. S. Young (Beckenham): Chancellor is eager to content all classes (C + anag.; content, noun).

2.  T. E. Bell (Gainsborough): For example October, Aries—anyhow, parts of a whole comprising twelve divisions (anag. incl. e.g., Oct; ref. year, zodiac, Kant).

3.  J. A. L. Sturrock (Oxford): What follows tax cut (25%) by the Chancellor? Wild orgies!—the fruits of class distinction (C + (r)ate + anag.).

H.C.

E. S. Ainley (Harrow): See the highest classes—thinker, monarch, writer—all absorbed in Tit-bits! (ego, R, I, in cates; popular magazine).

Dr S. H. Atkins (Brough): The cost, I agree, spread unevenly will give rise to class distinctions (anag.).

V. E. Brooke (SW7): In short, cognate and seriate arrangements (anag. incl. cog. & lit.).

Brig W. E. Duncan (NW3): The Ego (‘I’) reacts, making orderly conclusions (anag.).

H. H. Elliott (Dublin): For the Upper Classes, I agree, cost is fantastic (anag.).

Mrs N. Fisher (Stroud): Reduced cost, I agree, should bring in orders (anag.).

P. W. W. Leach (Fareham): The whip for all and you’ll get orderly classes instead of those images! (cat for all in allegories).

C. J. Morse (Norwich): Aristotle first discovered the predicaments that an erotic sage might get into (anag.).

R. J. Munnings (Welwyn): For classification in a thesaurus the ace is Roget (anag.).

E. W. Richart (Thornton Heath): Cost, I agree, must determine what orders should be placed here (anag.).

W. I. D. Scott (Chester): Sections are required to elucidate a puzzling goitre case (anag.).

E. O. Seymour (Gerrards Cross): Orders of singularly dainty food as a prelude to Bacchanalian orgies (cate + anag. [see comments]).

RUNNERS-UP

Mrs F. Begg, Rev L. Blackburn, J. A. Blair, D. L. L. Clarke, Cdr H. H. L. Dickson, D. A. Dodds, W. J. Duffin, T. Dwyer, L. E. Eyres, J. A. Fincken, Maj A. H. Giles, Mrs K. N. Graham, S. B. Green, G. T. Herring, E. L. Hillman, J. G. Hull, D. S. Johnson, C. Koop, H. Lyon, N. A. H. Maitland, T. W. Melluish, D. P. M. Michael, R. A. Mostyn, F. E. Newlove, J. W. Parr, E. G. Phillips, R. Postill, A. Rivlin, T. E. Sanders, Mrs E. M. Simmonds, W. K. M. Slimmings, H. J. Snelgar, F. L. Usher, I. Young.
 

COMMENTS—325 correct and very few mistakes. Many solvers said the puzzle was much easier, but the entry was not very large. Perhaps the word set was a dull one: the clues sent in were as a whole rather lacking in distinction. I really prefer something a little smoother than the jerky telegraphese of the winner: but it is perfectly sound, and its topicality and brevity combined won it its place. The 2nd. and 3rd. show much ingenuity. A few competitors assumed that the rare singular “cate” means “dainty food” like the normal plural. Being a singular form of a plural collective, it surely rather means one article of dainty food: Mr. Seymour’s clue appreciates this point. (So does the New Mid-C. Version of C.).
 
It may be salutary for new competitors and some others to repeat some old points in cluemanship. Above all, “I” is not “me”. This is still often ignored, e.g. “These are the orders of the spiteful female who holds me down—to rebel is impossible!” (cat, ego, rise). Then anagrams must be properly indicated: this too is still often ignored, e.g. “‘Orders is orders’—wouldn’t any Stoic agree?” “Wouldn’t any” gives no indication whatever that letters are mixed: we must say what we mean! An example of an attempted but inadequate indication is “Classes leave after high tea amid expressions of regret.” (c-ate-go-ries). The fact that “high” as applied to seas can mean “tempestuous” does not enable it to do so as applied to the letters of a word. On the other hand the actual word “tempestuous” would itself be a perfectly fair indication. Finally, false claims to “and lit.” still keep coming in. That description means that the whole clue works in a double sense, both as an indication of the way in which the letters of the word are to be treated and as a definition. Some competitors seem to think it simply means that a definition is included. If that were so, every single sound clue would be “and lit.”! An example of these misguided claims is “Drive the sheep on the old grasses: these are your orders, Jock. (ca’-teg-o’-ries and lit.).”
 
Many thanks for some flattering comments on the “limpid prose”! I could not resist a slight glow when two kind competitors observed that I had Cold Comfort Farm in mind—one of my favourite books. I was also glad that one or two people spotted the origin of the “bollom tit”—the nonsense refrain of an old song called The Crocodile. But I must blushingly disclaim the tribute of the solver who asks if concealing words in this way is a stimulus to my poetic (sic) imagination. Only one competitor mentioned the coincidence that Dan Leno appeared in the article above the puzzle. I noticed it myself: I wonder if others did. Two mentioned the red herring “mali,” an Indian gardener (“spadesman”) for 11. It fits perfectly but is not in C.: I see Webster gives it.