Competition

No. 1054: Musa geriatrica

Set by E.O. Parrott : Competitors are asked for verses (up to 16 lines) suitable for inclusion in When We Are Very Old or Now We Are Eighty-Six. Entries to 'Competition No. 1054' by 19 March.

No. 1051: The winners

Charles Seaton reports : Competitors were asked for comments — as from the Queen herself or any contemporary of hers— on the recent sale of a pair of Queen Victoria's knickers for £210.

They were in fact the eighth pair so sold (Victoria used to give them to her ladies in service, so there must be quite a lot about). The price came as a surprise to Bonham's, the auctioneers, who, in a felicitous turn of phrase, had thought that 'the bottom had dropped out of the knicker market.'

A 'number of entrants had evidently done their homework, describing the drawers in detail and naming the right auctioneers. The winners (five pounds to G.H. Harris and four pounds each to the others) show a good spread of authors — Gilbert, Victoria, Lear and Swinburne.

(The Auctionee.r's Song from Ruddibore)

Oh! Who'll buy a knicker? Could hardly be thicker; Not even worn threadbare though worn on a throne.

Parisian frillies are only for sillies.

Here's right-royal flannel. Come, make it your own.

Note undamaged elastic. No strains orgiastic Have rumpled or crumpled it. Merely outgrown By a very superior royal posterior, It's now offered for auction. Come, make it your own.

No state secret elusive was e'er so exclusive—

Not to priviest councillor even been shown. But they could now be yours, these imperial drawers, The ultimate lingerie. Make them your own. Just the gift for your wife! Raise her station in life To a seat of authority second to none.

So delight her (don't shock her) with this knickerbocker.

Roll up then and bid for it. Make it your own! (G.H. Harris) (To Princess Frederick William of Prussia) . . . Dearest Child! Such a delicious birthday present! The exact replica of the sets in your dear trousseau, which were such a joy to prepare, as were all your toilettes, and now a comforting bond between us, with you so far away. Though deeply shocked at their indelicacy, and relieved that you had not entrusted them to the post. I could not help smiling at the remarks of dear Fritz. I did not know your good husband was such a joker. Can he really believe any future individual would pay so much for such a garment? What value would he set on the remainder of the parure? How mortally distressed I should be to imagine such intimate garments displayed before anyone but blessed glorious Papa. I cannot even concede their importance, for it is always and in every respect, dear Child, the husband, even of a Queen, 'qui porte la culotte' . .

(P.K. Brown) How pleasant from heaven to leer In amusement as bits of our stuff Are knocked down by a bland auctioneer Who ensures that they go for enough.

Vae Victoriae? What could be finer Than hear such a fellow announce A Lot that when We were Regina Was hid by a runcible flounce.

Now some pleb brags of Royalty's wonder-ware And exhibiteth it in a case — Though he lacks guarantee that such underwear Ever truly enveloped our base.

What fun to observe your high-kickers, And chuckle to think that the bid Which triadly gavelled our knickers Was worth more than two hundred quid!

(D.S. Khan)

From too much cover giving To Vicky's ample end,

From sedentary living

Where they could not offend. I grieve that Vicky's knickers Should cause unseemly snickers Among those pocket-pickers

Who auction sales attend. No beauty have these bloomers To catch a roving eye, Nor value for costumers

To make their price so high. So my grief is irrepressible That money's not accessible, For e'en one inexpressible

Is more than I could buy. (Dromore)