A Chapter of Accidents

SPECTATOR COMPETITION No. 363 Report by David Yates Mason 'Walking home one evening you pause at a corner to cross a side street. Then-just as you step off the mvement-you sense rather than see a youth on a bicycle racing round the corner towards you. Leapihg back instinctively, you fall heavily on to the curb, injuring your hip. . . . This is the kind of misfortune against which a Personal Accident Policy is the only means of protection.' Competitors were asked .to match their ingenuity against that of the writer of this and similar advertisements in the vivid conjuring up of disasters calculated to make the reader fly to the cover of insurance.

COMPETITORS' anxiety states, as revealed by their entries, showed a very generalised fear of col- lapsing ladders and falls on frozen pavements; also, more specifically, of the perils represented by young ladies in railway carriages, unruly domestic pets, rickety deck-chairs, false teeth (loss of), flea circuses, 'This Is Your Life,' frayed sash cords, and arrows playfully discharged by little boys.

None came anywhere near rivalling the styli* brilliance and command of verbal orchestration of the anonymous author of the original quoted -the melodic line, almost elegiac in feeling, of the vowels and nasals in the opening passage; the stabbing 'Then' annduncing the entry, to a crescendo of sharp dentals and sibilants ('just as you step off the pavement-you sense rather than ,see'), of the half-menacing, half-lyrical theme ('a youth on a bicycle racing round the corner'); the swift climax of the leap back, the fall and the injured hip (note the clever contrapuntal pattern of the labials), leading to the religious notes of the resolution with the triumphal Personal Policy chords at the close. Few readers can have remained unmoved by its message: Never again can one sense the approach of a young person on a bicycle without wondering whether one's hips are adequately covered.

However, what competitors lacked in style they amply made up in invention. It is, perhaps, invidious to single out any for particular mention and I can only claim a personal partiality for the entries of R. Kennard Davis, J. A. Lindon, Hilary, Mrs. W. Tiegel and K. Wilson, who variously exposed the risks of : church-going with an unextinguished pipe in the pocket ('Half way through the Venice you notice a strange smell'); losing one's wife to the gas-meter man ('. . . the Go-Ahead Wife Assurance Company. Large pool of capital replacements promptly available on desertion.'); the depredations of old school friends maddened by one's British sherry; the escape of hundreds of examination papers-presumably unmarked-into a fast-flowing river; the use of gin bottles for cleaning fluid (collapse of valued party guest).

Some of the more felicitous entries were those in which the technique of piling horror upon horror was employed, the most taking coming from Arthur Marshall (three guineas). Runners- up : F. G. Hall, D. R. Peddy and A. E. C. (one guinea each).

PRIZES (ARTHUR MARSHALL)

As you lean forward to adjust Liberate, the telly suddenly explodes, temporarily blinding you. Grop- ing your way about, you upset your plastic telly-tray and souse your ankle with scalding Gustomalt. Your cry of pain unhooks your dentures, which go flying into the electric log-fire, unseats your toupet, which falls on to Bonzo as he lies slobbering , on the Axminster, and brings Miss Entwhistle running in from her bed-sitter. You collide, breaking your sternum in two places, and she faints. She misunder- stands your attempts at revival and lands a heavy blow with your Minton figurine, fracturing your jaw, and your figurine, and cracking your horn-rims. Bonzo, stimulated by worrying your embellishment into shreds, playfully sinks his yellow old fangs into your thigh. Meanwhile the telly has caught fire, the flames licking their way into your minipiano, your shelf of claSSics, and your original Cecil Aldin.

(F. G. HALL) Patiently you endured-the strain of working when the Boss was looking-those sickening games of golf hoping for chance encounters with the Managing Director-the interminable conversations with his wife at Works social functions.

For years you planned and manoeuvred. You always contrived to be at the right place at the right time so that you could Impress the people who mattered.

Yes, the coveted promotion seemed assured-until the Managing Director's brother's niece's fiance came in from outside to fill the position. . .

Wise executives can now provide for these emer- gencies by taking out an Anti-Nepotic Policy. Benefits include a pique-soothing lump sum and liberal removal expenses to your next situation. Generous no-claim bonus.

(D. R. PEDDY)

In the early stages of a period of Armed Conflict, you observe an H-bomb descending. Leaping back instinctively, you step on a workman's toe, injuring it severely, and causing him to jerk sharply a cauldron of near-boiling pitch whose contents, in consequence, cover'You both from head to toe. The pitch, however, forms a protective coating against the bomb for both you and the workman, so that you both survive, only to find that enemy action has destroyed your Insurance Company, all its records, and the entire national legal machinery. This is the kind of con- tingency against which even a War Risks Policy, a Personal Accident Policy and a Third Party Liability Policy are of questionable protection, and your only means of assurance are a Non-Enforceable Insurance Policy Policy, combined with-further policies to insure against the non-enforceability of that policy and all subsequent policies. . . .

(A. E. C.)

Contemplatively you raise the receiver, 'await dialling br-r-r,' then finger out `BLA 2999.' Did your finger falter? Almost anticipating the ultimate '9,' streams from the fire-hose are ruining your interior fitments; police are battering their way in at the back; and an ambulance-team is kidnapping your treasured Cypriot cook.

Against such calamity, including even the loss of your SANG-FROID, our `BLANK-IT' Policy is framed.