In Competition No. 2407 you were invited to incorporate 12 words into a plausible piece of prose, using them not in an animal, vegetable or mineral sense.
Inadvertently, I made this competition more difficult than the genre usually is by giving you fewer choices of alternative meanings to play with. Consequently I have been lenient in my interpretation of the rules: I allowed capitals (Swede or Sergeant Pepper) and metaphorical uses (copper-bottomed). Two competitors used ‘brass’ in the sense of ‘prostitute’, which is a new one on me. Commendations to Margaret Joy and A. Roberts. The prizewinners, printed below (a stellar group), get £25 each, except for E.J. Davidson, a newcomer, I think, who scoops £30.
‘I seen that blonde in Heat magazine — a Swede she was — and I thought, “Trace, that’s the look for you, gal.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in