OILIVAS REG iat

12 YEAR OLD SCOTCH WHISKY

COMPETITION

xlVAS REGAV (2 YEAR

Down Memory Lane

Jaspistos

In Competition No. 1705 you were pre- sented with the given opening lines of the third competition ever set in the Spectator and, like your predecessors, invited to continue.

Fifty years on, and I detect a definite improvement in the wit and skill of contes- tants, which shows that not everything is going downhill. The bungalow-sharing trio in Bangalore tended to end up less enjoy- ably together in an English seaside resort, though one scenario had them behaving disgracefully in old age on a barge in Baltimore. Another saw them as dogs, whose final home was a taxidermist's stu- dio in Ratisbon. I liked Dick Prosser's 'The other eight were put in tents,/ Being merely Players, and not Gents.'

I'm delighted to report that in my view all this week's prizewinners (who get £14 each) outshone the 1950 top prizewinner. The bonus bottle of Chivas Regal 12-year- old de luxe blended whisky goes to D. Shepherd for a neat bit of role reversal.

Some fifty years before

These three had shared a bungalow In Bangalore, and shared a cook At whom (for they were young) they swore

If they were drunk and he was slow.

Offence at this he never took; They paid him well and that was that.

He had some English, so he went To England where he bought a store And lived above it in a flat, And soon by being diligent He bought another, then some more, And multiplied them yet again Into a supermarket chain.

Unknown to all, each of the three

Worked for him as an employee.

(D. Shepherd)

Some fifty years before These three had shared a bungalow In Bangalore.

By those romantic hills, Both girls had fancied Timothy. He paid the bills.

Tim really had not known Which of the two excited him the more, Denise or Joan. And now they have arranged For Tim to join them in their London flat. They'll find him changed.

At nearly eighty-four, He knows there's not much he can do except Lie back and think of Bangalore.

(Phyllis Fountain) Some fifty years before These three had shared a bungalow In Bangalore.

Sex quickly reared its head, For all three in that bungalow Shared the same bed.

Births quickly followed sex, The three became six — eight — then ten (All nervous wrecks).

Alerted to their need For greater space, the Government, Acting with speed, Re-housed them in the Taj Mahal — all ten (plus hangers-on). Long live the Raj! (Tony Joseph) (David Heaton) (Gwyneth Ceccotti) Some fifty years before, These three had shared a bungalow In Bangalore, In which they kept a stash Of takings from the hospital, Like petty cash, And never got found out.

Now May and Pamela and Jane, Grown rather stout, Together run a small Corrective school for Indian girls Outside Porthcawl, Maintaining their composure But grating on each other's nerves, Dreading disclosure.

Some fifty years before These three had shared a bungalow In Bangalore.

For Dolly, Joan and Marge Who nursed the Empire's sick and poor During the Raj And scraped to pay the bills, A week was all they could afford Up in the hills.

Arthritic now and gaunt, They share a geriatric ward Near Worthing front. Some fifty years before These three had shared a bungalow In Bangalore.

That's it. I know no more.

Three men. They shared a bungalow In Bangalore.

There's nothing to explore. Thee men together. Bungalow in Bangalore.

Ye gods! This is a bore!

Three men — so what? — a bungalow In Bangalore - Why not? (A. D. Gibbons)