COMPETITION

12 YEAlt OLD SCOTCH WHISKY 12 YEAR OLD SCOTCH WHISKY

After Henry

Jaspistos

In Competition No. 1623 you were in- vited to incorporate into a poem or piece of prose the words written by Henry James: 'The bark of Chicago disturbs the siesta'.

Thank you, Jermyn Thynne, for suggest- ing this off-the-beaten-track idea, which had already been roughly suggested by A. N. Wilson (page 26, Penfriends from Por- lock). The bark was remarkably protean: it came from a dog, a tree, a gangster's gat, it was a hooting steamer, it even, in error, became 'the bank of Chicago'. Actually, James was complaining in a letter about the loud accents of mid-western tourists in Venice. There were excellent offerings from E.S. Goodwill, Mary Holtby, Will Bellenger, Tony Joseph, Paul Griffin, and Ron Rubin. The winners printed below get £15 each, and the bonus bottle of Chivas Regal 12-year-old de luxe blended whisky goes to E. 0. Parrott for his neat solution of the problem. Your address please, Mr Lamb.

'The bark of Chicago disturbs the siesta.'

The phrasebook is useful, though tortured in style: 'The aunt's four postillions are making fiesta.' 'Pray pressure the bell. One will come in a while.'

`Do not drop from the windows when throwing debris!'

A suitable rule for a skyscraper block; 'Observe that just coffee is served now for tea.'

For most English travellers this comes as a shock!

'Do not drop from the windows'? The prospect is frightening! 'Before bedding down, pray dowse every fire'. 'My aunt's four postillions have been struck by lightning' (Though four is far more than an aunt should require).

'The trill of the tramcars prohibits your shn' ber.'

'The scream of the sirens lures me from mY sleep.' Such gems from the phrasebook I cull without number - They give me more pleasure than just counting sheep. (E. 0 Parrott) The bark of Chicago disturbs the siesta, The braying of Delaware shatters the nap,

The roar of New York is a real sleep-molester, The snarl of Detroit snaps repose in its trap. Each animal city imposes on slumber Its private cacophony; all human zoos Vibrate and sing out like a wasp in a tumbler, Bankrupting forty-winks, nobbling the snooze.

Washington wails and Seattle is screaming, Indianapolis trumpets and growls; Buffalo bellows; restorative dreaming Is hampered in Houston by hooting and howls. From East coast to West coast the jungle noise rumbles; Beset by brute noises sweet slumber is wrecked. Each state in the union blearily grumbles, And sedatives, sleeping pills have no effect.

(D. A. Prince) The bark of Chicago disturbs the siesta, A raucous mélange of the city's sour noise The thwack of the club of the cattle-molester; The drill that the sidewalk-erupter employs; The screech of the El and its ear-blasting whistle; The din of the dealers who trade in the Loop; The surge of the drains, in which blood, bone and gristle Are poured to dissolve like a nauseous soup; The hoots of the boats on their lake-crossing journeys; The howl of the newsie; the yawn of the wind; The rattle of talk among crooked attorneys; The scream of a hardhat a girder has pinned; A monstrous inferno, a mid-western Hades, A loud and insatiable dog of a town, Where men are not gentlemen, women not ladies, And if you're not up you're conclusively down.

(Basil Ransome-Davies) From 'The Maitland Inheritance' Maitland was accustomed to complete, to round off and set a final seal upon the daily ceremonial of his luncheon by taking coffee in the conserva- tory which, in the semblance of a glazed afterthought, extended from the dining-room itself. There, when he had guests, he would conduct an expedition to the remoter corners of some subject descried earlier across the table. Our topic that afternoon was neighbourliness. Maitland was at the time in conflict with a Mr Pewler, an American gentleman, owner of the estate contiguous with his own. Pewler bred dogs, a species of animal Maitland detested, and affected to name them for cities within his beloved Republic. Philadelphia there was, and Boston, and, most notoriously, Chicago. 'I know no peace,' protested Maitland. 'Boston moans at dawn, Philadelphia howls in the forenoon, and the bark of Chicago disturbs the siesta. If someone would declare canicide no crime in England (Fergus Porter) The bark of Chicago disturbs the siesta: So do the buzz and the dring and the bleep Of the faxes from Frankfurt, the phone calls from Chester, Whining and warbling, pocketa-queep.

The berk in Chicago disturbs the siesta: 'Sell at three-seventy: buy while it's cheap.' Then there's that halfwit, the Leicester investor: 'What should I sell, Rodney? What should I keep?'

The buck from Chicago disturbs the siesta: Pass it on quick to some other poor creep. Why should my desk be the one that they pester?

Why can't they let a poor stockbroker sleep?

(J. C. Lamb)