SPECTATOR COMPETITION No. 131 Report by John Usborne

A prize of £5 was offered for a four-line epitaph on an English drought.

The drought, whether actually dead or, as many insisted, only moribund, had left many with their muses, if not high, at least dry, and their wit, like the obsequies, wet. Some, more concerned with wit than grief or relief, made epigrams instead of epitaphs. Of these I enjoyed most the following by A. M. Sayers : I loved the drought, but heard my friends complain How dry it was ; how much we needed rain. Yet when it rained at last they seemed upset, Apparently because the rain was wet.

I quote this partly because it has a style and diction which was, rare among the orthodox entries. I ruled out smooth imitations of eighteenth century models (" Depart unhonoured—and yet not unwept ") if they could offer nothing else. H. A. C. Evans tried the right combination and might have won a prize but for the inaccuracy in the third line, because of the resounding tweak in the tail (inaccurate too, but licence granted).

A Drought lies here. Your hearts upraise

And sound a glad carillon.

It lived for five and forty days And cost us half a million.

For almost as good a tweak, though of more awkward compo- sition, I recommend Simon Shirley's :

Here lies the victim of much hostile breath ; For some there were scorned not to pray his death. But batsmen grieve, and pallid grow the lips Of those who go down to the sea on trips.

There were many puns on rain and reign, some of which nearly lifted smooth imitations into the final rounds. Best punning line was C. F. E.'s last : " 0 hail, the blessed reign's begun ! ", while D. R. Peddy's : " Sing loud, the Drought is dead :.Long May it Rain " was not far off. -Oswald Clark's querulous cadence made for a nice freshness :

Not yours to rest in peace, Fair daughter of the clouds' caprice ! For Kew has but to breathe the word To have you disinterred.

Of those who were testily brief in contempt for what we here define as drought, R. Kennard Davis was both testiest and briefest : Fine spell Farewell ! Drought ? Washout !

W. McC. was indignant with the setter of the competition : Here lies a ghost, a figment at most

Of a competition-setter, Who in the Spectator mixed up the equator With England—a country much wetter.

Many forgot that the drought had been strictly English and were seduced by the epigrammatic attractions of dust and ashes. Of these W. D. Gilmour turned the neatest quatrain. The Lynmouth anticlimax figured in several, but with no distinction. The parsonic entry was curiously large and mostly respectful.

I award the first prize of £3 to Wing Commander M. W. Palmer, whose anthropomorphism was delightful and whose last line has a beautiful " swoon." Second prize is to be divided equally by R. J. Hirst and Douglas Hawson. The latter's smacks hard of a collector's piece. Commendations to Gerald Armitage, Edward Blishen, R. Kennard Davis, Ruth Durham and Allan M. Laing.

PRIZES Here died a drought which, born in oceans far,

While bound for Afric sands forever burning, Confused 'mid isotherm and isobar, Took the wrong turning.

(WING COMMANDER M. W. PALMER)

Here, drown'd, lies Drought, by millions woo'd As maid ; as matron execrated By folk who tolerate their food,

But not their weather, dehydrated. (R. J. than) Underneath this muddy plot

Just a month old I lie buried ;

Scarcely brown and not so hot,

Yet I had Old England worried !

(DOUGLAS HAWSON) COMMENDED

It dried the tears of Heaven ; A golden joy we found it, And worshipped guiltily until The tears of heaven drowned it.

(GERALD ARMITAGE)

Here lies a major English drought Which lasted half a fortnight out : Caught hanging foolishly around It met an awful end—was drowned. (EDWARD BUSHEN) Farewell, brief Droughtlet ! Where thy dust is laid The tribute of the tears of Heaven is paid.

Thou did'st but smile on our beclouded earth, Like an unwanted kitten, drowned at birth.

(R. KENNARD DAVIS) A heavenly day adorned his birth : The sun came out to crown him. Alas, he lived ! Embarrassed earth

Begged heaven's help to drown him. (RUTH DURHAM) In life he strove to keep us dry : Brief victory his efforts crowned ;

But such strange conduct made us shy, And with relief we saw him drowned.

(ALLAN M. LAING)