COMPETITION

Skin game

Tom Castro

In Competition No. 1531 you were asked to explain, in the style of Dr Johnson himself, Conan Doyle, P. G. Wodehouse or A. A. Milne, why Johnson scraped and dried orange skins.

Boswell won 'a small bet' from Lady Diana Beauclerk merely for asking John- son about this peculiarity. His reply con- cluded with advice to Boswell that he should write, 'He could not be prevailed upon, even by his dearest friends to tell.'

The ingenuity with which you attacked the problem has left me with more in- formation about orange peel than I ever hoped to learn. It was to be used as a digestive or carminative, a pomander or deodorant, flea-powder or a treat for Hodge, a memento mori or reminder to pray for the dead. Or perhaps it was an April fool; if it was, it is worth noting that on the same morning Johnson received his Oxford doctorate — no laughing matter. Noel Petty, among others, pointed out that orange skins may be used for kindling, as his grandmother did during the war, when firewood was scarce. I seem to remember it was round the other way.

Mr Petty and T. Griffiths both quoted Johnson recommending orange peel as a 'remedy for indigestion and lubricity of the bowels'. I can't find that in Boswell.

It was a close-run thing for the finalists. I liked John Sweetman's phrase, 'Now, Sir, my cat Hodge, a very fine cat indeed'. Commiserations to D. A. Prince (for John- son and Wodehouse), Robert Baird, Katie Mallett, A. D. Gibbons, Simon Rees and Betty Finn, who wrote in dog (or bear) Latin, after Winnie Ille Pu, beginning tosweleyore, asinus veterus'.

Those below get £15 each and the bonus prize of a bottle of Anares Tinto Rioja, kindly presented by Atkinson Baldwin and Co, St Mary's House, 42 Vicarage Cres- cent, London SW11, goes to Russell Lucas.

'I say, Jeeves. What do you know about orange peel? You know, the jolly old overcoat the pulpy stuff travels in.'

'I understand it has a variety of culinary, medicinal and aromatic applications, Sir.' 'What do you consider a chap would be about if he scraped and dried the confounded thing?' 'I suspect you're referring to the Spectator competition about Dr Johnson's curious prac- tice, Sir.'

'I am, Jeeves . . and I've got a corker of an idea. Marmalade.'

'Indeed, Sir.'

'You're not impressed, Jeeves?'

'In the 1760 edition of Culpepper's Herbs which the Doctor reputedly possessed, there is reference to the dried skins of oranges being compounded into a powder, efficacious in the treatment of scrofula.'

'Scrofula, Jeeves?'

'A condition that afflicted Dr Johnson, Sir.' 'Jeeves . . type out an entry and send it off.' 'Marmalade, Sir?'

'Scrofula, Jeeves. You — er — may use my name.'

'Thank you, Sir.' (Russell Lucas) Johnson: Sir, I wish you would not persist with this. Though I have, like the rest of mankind, many failings and weaknesses, I have never yet, by either friends or enemies, been charged with perversely keeping back useful information when the utterance of only a few words might impart it. I warn you, however, against enquir- ing too curiously into the practices of a man who leans towards experiments in the field of self- medication. Those, like yourselves, who sup at table and fill their stomachs to repletion rise from that table better pleased from not having been informed, whilst in the act of spooning Junkets into their mouths, that a decoction made after pulverising the desiccated rind of a China orange, conduces, when drunk in the morning, towards convulsing the bowel and procuring a soft stool.

(Stanley Shaw) `So the theory is, Jeeves, that Aunt Dahlia got the idea from Boswell's book? What did this Johnson chappy do with the peel?'

`He refused to say, Sir.'

`Wouldn't tell Boswell? Hardly friendly, what?'

`Mr Boswell, Sir, was sometimes over- enthusiastic in his desire to know everyone and everything of importance. The Doctor may have thought it amusing to withhold information on a matter of no importance whatever.'

`Are you suggesting, Jeeves, that Aunt Dahlia is hinting that the young master has been sticking the old beak too far into her business?'

'No, Sir.'

`Dash it, Jeeves, you mooted the idea that Aunt Dahlia got this wheeze from Boswell.'

`With respect, Sir, that was your theory. I would conjecture that Mrs Travers extracted the information regarding orange peel from a book of household management.' `Would you indeed, Jeeves?'

`Yes, Sir. Dried orange peelings are most efficacious as fire-lighters.'

(Jeanne Fielder) `Elementary, my dear Watson,' sighed Sher- lock Holmes, testily tossing my Spectator aside. `The adventure of the Five Orange Pips has no relevance whatsoever. The crux here is the curious evidence of the explanation offered by Boswell.'

`But Boswell offered no explanation.'

`That is the curious evidence. If Johnson had eventually done anything with the orange skins, Boswell would have related it faithfully.'

`But surely Johnson would not have scraped the skins for no purpose?'

'Boswell's indiscriminate recording of John- son's most insignificant doings beside his most penetrating insights undoubtedly exasperated him exquisitely. It is highly suggestive that Johnson prepared the skins on All Fools' Day. He knew that Boswell would be foolish enough to report the matter; he trusted that Boswell's readers would be wise enough to laugh at Boswell's folly.' `So it was a practical joke!' I exclaimed, hurriedly taking out my notebook. Holmes, groaning inexplicably, reached for his syringe. (Richard Parlour) `Good morning, Eeyore,' said Pooh.

`What's good about it?', said Eeyore gloomi- ly. `Why, what's the matter?'

`It's my birthday, Pooh, that's what's the matter.'

`Oh! Well, many happy returns, Eeyore.' `Happy? Did you say happy? No presents and no cakes and no candles — not a sausage.'

'I thought you were a vegetarian, Eeyore.'. `It's an Expression,' said Eeyore wearily.

'Like Stone Me and Mind the Doors and How's Your Father.'

There was a crackling noise in the bracken, and out came Dr Johnson. He was singing: Orange skins, orange skins, orange skins dry, A fish can't whistle and neither can I. Ask for a present and I reply: `Orange skins, orange skins, orange skins dry.'

'Orange skins?' said Eeyore. 'You call that a present?'

Dr Johnson sighed philosophically. 'When a donkey is tired of dried orange skins, he is tired of life.'

(Roger Woddis)