No. 1210: The winners

Jaspistos reports: Competitors were asked to write a poem defining 'a lady'.

`A lady,' said James Branch Cabell rather mysteriously, 'doesn't behave like a gentleman.' Whatever a lady may be nowadays, she is indisputably derived from the Old English hlaefdige, 'kneader of bread'. That's about the only certainty that I was able to extract from your wildly conflicting views. Many of you seemed to share Edward Samson's picture of a lady as `well-bred but dead in bed' and raised a cheer for her obsolescence. Among those whose definitions were warmer was Stanley Jamieson:

She knows that to tell lies is rude, So sticks to inexactitude.

`She will seem to be quite flattered/By a present that is tattered,' adds Peter Comaish gratefully, and W. F. Owtram praises her as `kind — even with a spanner' — though that is a type of kindness I'd be nervous of entrusting myself to. Eight pounds each to the five winners printed below, and the bonus bottle of the Famous Grouse Scotch Whisky to P. Carter, who is, appropriately, a lady. A Lady is a Woman who was a Lady but now prefers to be a Woman in order to distinguish her from the Lady (who used to be a Woman) who 'does' for her. (P. Carter) A lady is one who avoids looking upset When a guests refers to his napkin as his serviette, And somehow continues to bloom When another asks the way to the 'Little Girls' Room'.

Everyone knows That a lady never sweats, only glows - Because, though the Colonel's Lady And Judy O'Grady

May be sisters under the skin, the former

buys a More expensive brand of skin-conditioner-and- moisturiser.

A lady knows, when she gives a fiance the sack,

That he'd feel insulted if she even thought

of giving him his ring back; And when she finds it necessary to damn a Chap's bed-work, does so with a Beta Double Minus Query Gamma.

In short, a lady may be vile, But has style. (Andrew McEvoy) A Lidy's a Lidy, she ain't one of us. She don't never stand in a queue fer a bus; Wherever she travels she does it in style Befittin' ter them wot's on top of the pile.

She don't sew on buttons, she don't wash a cup.

It's arter eleven afore she gets up, She lays back in comfort an' gives 'er commands An' never does nothin' wot might soil 'er 'ands.

She don't push no trolleys arahnd the Co-op, It's Fortnum & Mason wot's 'er local shop No scrimpin' an' scrapin' an' makin' ends meet, Nor no snotty-nosed kids needin' shoes ter their feet.

She drinks like a fish an' she gambles an' swears But rarely, if ever, sets foot below stairs. Our lives is orl minus an' ers is orl plus If we don't bovver 'er then she won't bower

US.

(J. J. Webster) A Lady with a large L Is one who has to be A born one or else wed to The aristocracy.

A lady with a small 1 Is one who keeps her place By being very proper And speaking very nace. (Joyce Johnson) A lady was a person who Had blood of truest, bluest blue.

Today she is a person who

Was then a woman — voild tout!

(Peggy Sandars)