Answers to the games will appear in the next issue
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SOLUTION TO LAST MONTH'S CRYPTOGRAM:
I pick my favourite quotations and store them in my mind as ready armour, offensive or defensive, amid the struggle of this turbulent existence.
A present - a pretty easy quiz ----- well maybe not that easy. Some of you deserve coal in your stockings!
1. In what year did Christmas become a bank public holiday?
2. On what date did servants and tradesmen traditionally receive gifts from their bosses?
3.What is that date traditionally called?
4. In what year did that become a bank or public holiday?
5. What is the holiday (the origin of whose name is uncertain) which involves a practice known as "first footing"?
ANSWERS TO LAST MONTH'S QUIZ:
The Land of Counterpane by Robert Louis Stevenson
When I was sick and lay a-bed,
I had two pillows at my head,
And all my toys beside me lay,
To keep me happy all the day.
Lochinvar by Sir Walter Scott
O young Lochinvar is come out of the west,
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best;
And save his good broadsword he weapons had none,
He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone.
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
He staid not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone,
He swam the Eske river where ford there was none;
But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,
The bride had consented, the gallant came late:
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
Scotland 1941 by Edwin Muir
We were a tribe, a family, a people.
Wallace and Bruce guard now a painted field,
And all may read the folio of our fable,
Peruse the sword, the sceptre and the shield.
A simple sky roofed in that rustic day,
The busy corn-fields and the haunted holms,
The green road winding up the ferny brae.
But Knox and Melville clapped their preaching palms
And bundled all the harvesters away,
Hoodicrow Peden in the blighted corn
Hacked with his rusty beak the starving haulms.
Out of that desolation we were born.
Wind on the Hill by A. A. Milne
No one can tell me,
Where the wind comes from,
Where the wind goes.
Rule Britannia by James Thomson
When Britain first, at Heaven's command,
Arose from out the azure main;
This was the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sung this strain:
"Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves."
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