12 YEAR OLD SCOTCH WHISKY
COMPETITION cvaVAS REG44
12 YEAR OLD SCOTCH WHISKY
Lear improved
Jaspistos
In Competition No. 1711 you were in- vited to take the first line of a Lear limerick and carry on in your own way.
The limerick seems to have been in- vented in 1820 — the first instances occur in Anecdotes and Adventures of Fifteen Young Ladies and the History of Sixteen Wonderful Old Women – but not pcipula- rised until Lear's Book of Nonsenie 26 years later. It has been suggested that the name comes from the chorus 'Will you come up to Limerick?' which was supposed to follow each verse as it was improvised by a member of a convivial party, but I am not persuaded. I'm one of those who have never been happy with Lear's limericks, but if anything can reconcile me to them it is the illustrations by John Vernon Lord in Methuen's Edward Lear: Nonsense Verse a great improvement on the author's own demented, wispy figures. Some of you sent me more than ten limericks. Have a heart! What do you think it does to a man's weekend to have to read more than 400 jocose accounts of the eccentricities of young and old persons?
The prizewinners, printed below, earn £5 each, and the bonus bottle of Chivas Regal 12-year-old de luxe blended whisky goes to Emily Hill.
There was an old person of Ealing, Whose garments were thought too revealing. When they sneered, 'At your age!' She replied, 'At this stage There's not very much worth concealing.'
(Emily Hill) There was an old man in a boat, Who vanished, not leaving a note; But he did leave behind Some funds they can't find And an empire they can't keep afloat.
(Geoffrey Riley) There was an old person of Brussels, Who ate Chum to strengthen his muscles. Besides lifting a leg, He's beginning to beg, And rolls on the floor with Jack Russells.
(Jean Williams) There was on old man of Thermopylae. Who paid foreign workers improperly With cheques he'd hand-printed, And coinage he'd minted And money you use in Monopoly.
(Ralph Sadler) There was an old man on some rocks, Who was seen to be wearing odd socks - One green and one red.
'Port and starboard,' he said.
'I pilot big ships into docks.' (David Pelham) There was a young lady of Ryde, Who went in and out with the tide.
When her friends said, 'Stop clowning - Are you waving or drowning?'
She admitted, 'I can't quite decide.'
(Roger Woddis) There was an old man of Peru, Who once did, when in Rome, as they do; But an Englishman's tact Bars describing the act, And besides, it's sub judice too. (David Cram) There was a young person of Smyrna, Who bicycled up Annapurna.
Though I reckon she lied, Her account of her ride Provided a nice little earner. (Andrew McEvoy) There was an old man of Hong Kong, Unsure to which club to belong, Who ruefully thought, 'I'm Chinese, and short, And doubt if I'll ever be long.'
(Norman McNutt) There was an old man who said, 'How
The hell do Italians spell ciao?'
If he reads this he'll know It ends i-a-o And shouldn't be twin-rhymed with Slough.
(D. B. Jenkinson) There was an Old Man with a beard, Who'd made all that ever appeared.
When they asked, 'Who made you?'
He said, 'I did that, too - I just sort of . . . slowly cohered.'
(Michael Lee) There was a young lady of Norway, Who crawled on all fours through a doorway.
When someone asked why, She simply said, 'I
Do it my way and you do it your way.'
(Noel Petty) There was an old man of Kilkenny,
Who never spent more than a penny
In any one loo; But this could accrue On long walks to well over a guinea.
(M. J. Kelly) There was an old man at a junction, Who said, 'I'm a greaser; my function Is to oil the valve-gear Of old trains stopping here With what you might call Extreme Unction!' (Jim Flynn) There was an old man at a casement, Who spied a young girl in his basement.
So he banished his wife, Saying, 'Light of my life, Go away — I've just found a replacement.'
(Donny Michaels) There was an old person of Basing, Who had hoped for a life of trail-blazing, But, alas for his schemes And his hopes and his dreams, He had to make do with star-gazing.
(D. R. D. Vass) There was an old man on some rocks, Who rummaged around in a box.
'Can I help you?' I cried.
'Thank you, yes,' he replied.
'I'm God — but I've lost my green socks.'
(A. G. Gordon)