There was a double-Skylark the weekend before last, with a puzzle in the IQ series, as well as this pre-septemdecim-centennial-th* EV…she has been a BUSY BEE!
(*That is pre-1700th, in my 40+-year old O-level Latin, with a bit of help from Googl-ius Maximus.)
Talking of which, I seem to have been ‘ever the bridesmaid’ recently, with the 799th Cyclops, and now the 1699th EV…but then again those milestones can become millstones…
Anyway, back to this puzzle. The preamble states that:
“An extra letter in each clue should be removed before solving. When read in clue order these spell out a message about which 38 cells to highlight, perhaps resulting in BUSY BEES? Chambers Dictionary (2016) is recommended.”
SHORT AND SWEET! ‘Just’ an extra letter in each clue to give a message, and no apparent solution/grid manipulation necessary. I was CHAMPing AT THE BIT to get started.
Well maybe champing to start with, but by the end I think I might have been grinding my teeth, as it was quite a tough solve, trying to find those ‘just one’ wafer-thin extra letters!
I ground on, and eventually had a nearly completed grid, and a message that said ‘CITY’S OLD NICKNAME’ which, applying the second rule of EV-club to always check the leading diagonal, took shape as COTTONOPOLIS, and Senator Googl-ius helped me identify that as an old moniker for Manchester, erstwhile centre of the global cotton trade in the 19th Century.
Moving on, we then (eventually) had ‘AND THREE SPEEDING UP RATE OF SPIN’. This had me flummoxed – Manchester holds cricket matches at Old Trafford, a Ben Stokes-six away from the ‘other’ Old Trafford, and maybe the rate of spin was a reference to cricket spin bowling?
Some grid-staring ensued until a moment of enlightenment when I spotted two likely-looking lads on either side of the grid – HARGREAVES and ARKWRIGHT. Neither looked like cricketers to me, but a bit more Wiki-oogling revealed that hey had both improved/invented machines/processes that improved the efficiency of cotton production – the ‘rate of spin’!
James HARGREAVES invented the ‘spinning jenny’; Richard ARKWRIGHT invented the ‘water frame’; and, to complete the trio, Samuel CROMPTON chipped in with the ‘spinning mule’:
It took me a while to ‘cotton on’ to what was going on, but I got there in the end – and was educated along the way.
My thanks to Skylark for an entertaining (as always) solve, and I trust all is clear below.
(Well, I know it isn’t, because it was quite hard to annotate and parse, but I hope you get the gist…)
Across | ||||
---|---|---|---|---|
Clue No | Extra letter | Solution / Entry | Clue (definition underlined)
Logic/Parsing (extra letter in (b)rackets) |
|
1 | C | CHAMP AT THE BIT | Show signs of impatience with master inside craving pathetic bath (13, four words)
CHA_P AT THE BIT (anag, i.e. (c)raving, of pathetic bath) around M (master) |
|
10 | I | ONERS | Experts ruin singles outside (5)
ONE_S (singles) around (outside of) R (ru(i)n) |
|
11 | T | ROSARIA | Backing atria following Rosa Parks? (7)
ROSA plus (followed by) RIA (air, tune, or a(t)ria, backing) |
|
12 | Y | TITBIT | Birdy ate small delicacy (6)
TIT (bird(y)) + BIT (ate) |
|
13 | S | AUCTION | Feast welcoming posh public sale (7)
A_CTION (fea(s)t) around (welcoming) U (posh, not non-U!) |
|
17 | O | ANTRORSE | Ornate boats carrying eminent scientists turned up (8)
ANTRO_E (anag, i.e. b(o)ats, of ORNATE) around (carrying) RS (Royal Society, eminent scientists) |
|
18 | L | OMASA | Seldom a slave squeezes ruminant stomachs (5)
hidden word in, i.e. squeezed by, ‘seldOM A S(L)Ave’ |
|
19 | D | RUSE | Turning lake into sulphur, managed trick (4)
RU( |
|
20 | N | MANOR | Police district land gold (5)
MAN (la(n)d) + OR (heraldic, yellow/gold tincture) |
|
22 | I | REGROUPED | Newly assembled thatching cut by genius (9)
RE_ED (thatching) around (cut by) GROUP (gen(i)us) |
|
26 | C | RUANA | Crush protecting Australian, accepted woollen outer garment (5)
RU_N ((c)rush) around (protecting) A (Australian), plus A (accepted) |
|
31 | K | ANOW | Bard’s enough skinned hake currently (4)
A (hA(K)e, skinned of it’s outer letters) + NOW (currently) |
|
33 | N | ENNUI | Boredom of nunhood, initially during dinner away from outsiders in retreat (5)
( |
|
34 | A | MISORDER | More raids provoked confusion (8)
anag, i.e. provoked, of MORE R(A)IDS |
|
37 | M | VENTURI | Risk rejecting mending one tube to measure flow rate of fluids (7)
VENTUR( |
|
38 | E | CITING | Rousing bear without calling (6)
( |
|
39 | A | EAT INTO | Consume unlimited meat and atone with last bit of tomato (7, two words)
( |
|
40 | N | ICONS | Don in island’s pictures (5)
I_S (island) around CON (do(n), trick) |
|
41 | D | SHORT AND SWEET | Surprisingly brief news shot traded abroad (13, three words)
anag, i.e. abroad, of NEWS SHOT TRADE(D) |
|
Down | ||||
Clue No | Extra letter | Solution / Entry | Clue (definition underlined)
Logic/Parsing (extra letter in (b)rackets) |
|
1 | T | CATHAR | Tom snubbed stolid member of medieval sect (6)
CAT (tom) + HAR( |
|
2 | H | ANTI | Opposed to ruffian thinker’s hiding (4)
hidden word in ‘ruffiAN T(H)Inker’ |
|
3 | R | PRISON | Stokers blocking Bird’s custody (6)
PRI_ON (petrel, bird) around (blocked by) S (stoke(r)s, physics, unit of kinematic viscosity) |
|
4 | E | ASTERN | Mariner’s behind, American heard (6)
A (American) + STERN (h(e)ard) |
|
5 | E | TRANSPOSITION | Translated estate’s material that’s altered (13)
TRANS (translated) + POSITION ((e)state) |
|
6 | S | TOUTED | Ian’s spouted teapot’s top ejected (6)
T (top letter of Teapot) + OUTED (ejected) [‘tout’ being Scottish, i.e. Ian’s, for to (s)pout – first extra letter in definition rather than wordplay?] |
|
7 | P | EATH | Ed’s easy pace in Ethiopia (4)
E_TH (Ethiopia) around A ((p)ace) [eath’ being Spenserian, i.e. Ed’s, for ‘easy’] |
|
8 | E | BRIGAND | Bandit crowed grabbing equipment (7)
B_AND (crow(e)d) around (grabbing) RIG (equipment) |
|
9 | E | TANBARK | Bases beneath brown material used to make leather (7)
TAN (brown) + BARK (bas(e)s, variation on bast, inner bark) |
|
10 | D | OILNUT | Frustrated cask overturned, losing fine source of fluid (6)
( |
|
14 | I | ODSO | Once my solids slop from time to time (4)
regular letters, i.e. from time to time, of ‘sOl(i)Ds SlOp’ |
|
15 | N | TREE | Timber support bangs rector (4)
T_EE (support, e.g. for a golf ball) around (ba(n)g-ging) R (rector) |
|
16 | G | ROMP | Grand old mounted police frolic (4)
R ((g)rand) + O (old) + MP (mounted police) |
|
21 | U | GREAVES | Mourns, having endlessly rued entering burial sites (7)
GR_AVES (burial sites) around (entered by) (U)E (rued, losing end letters, or endlessly!) |
|
22 | P | RAN INTO | Met proving nation’s supporting queen (7, two words)
R (regina, queen) plus (supported by, in a Down clue) AN_INTO (anag, i.e. (p)roving, of NATION) |
|
23 | R | GAIT | Scot’s child is wary of walking (4)
double defn. a GAIT is a variant of ‘get’, used by Walter Scott, a Scot, for child; and a GAIT can be a wa(r)y of walking [double defn., so one of them must have the extra letter!] |
|
24 | A | EARL | Neat exchanging number with Liberal nobleman (4)
EAR( |
|
25 | T | FOEHNS | Enemies crossing Hungary want finally hot dry winds (6)
FOE_S (enemies) around (crossing) H (Hungary) + N (waN(t), finally) |
|
27 | E | UNCE | Corpse embraced by one Parisian is tiny weight in Paisley (4)
UN_E (one, in French, i.e. Parisienne) around (embracing) C (corps(e)) [unce being Scottish, i.e. in Paisley, for ounce, or tiny weight] |
|
28 | O | OMERTA | Criminal conspiracy of silence‘s confused tamer room in centre (6)
anag, i.e. confused, of TAMER + ( |
|
29 | F | PSOCID | Socialist feeding flower picked up tiny insect (6)
P_ID (dip, or (f)lower, reversed, or picked up, for a Down clue) around SOC (Socialist) |
|
30 | S | TONICS | Still reportedly steals drinks (6)
TO ((s)till, until) + NICS (homophone, i.e. reportedly – NICS sounds like NICKS, steals) |
|
32 | P | WRIGHT | Prank’s leader interrupts local’s swift tradesperson (6)
W_IGHT (dialect, i.e. local, for swift, nimble) around (interrupted by) R (leading letter of (p)Rank) |
|
35 | I | STIR | Move gentleman holding coati’s tail (4)
S_IR (gentleman) around (holding) T (tail, or last letter, of coaT(i)) |
|
36 | N | DINE | Neat racket, English (4)
DIN (racket) + E (English) [extra letter in definition, EAT rather than (N)EAT] |
I too found this a meaty puzzle, with its well-implemented ‘extra letter’ device in every clue. Obviously, COTTONOPOLIS was not difficult to find, but I had noticed both ARKWRIGHT and HARGREAVES before that. I had to look up the subject to find the third name.
Thanks to Skylark for her second puzzle that weekend, and to mc_rapper for the entertaining blog.
Thanks so much for the excellent blog, mc_rapper.
Three of my grandparents worked in the cotton mills of Stockport and Manchester, with my Grandma Ellis starting as a very young schoolgirl (since her dad had died when she was an infant, the family needed her wage).
She worked in the mills from 6 until 12 then walked two miles to school for an afternoon there, and was often so tired she’d “fall asleep on the toilet, so get beaten for it,” I remember her telling me, laughing to mitigate my horror.
Alan B at #1 – thanks for confirming it wasn’t just me who found this a challenge!
And Jo/Skylark at #2 – thanks for your kind words, and the personal insight into the background to the puzzle.
(Sounds a bit like the Monty Python ‘Four Yorkshiremen‘ sketch, but the reality must have been pretty harsh. My grandfather worked in the steel mills and, when I used to complain about not enjoying work, at the start of my IT career 30+ years ago, he would say ‘If you enjoy it, you shouldn’t get paid for it‘…(;+>)
mc-rapper67 Thanks for your reply. They didn’t consider themselves poor, though they brought up eight children in a two bedroom terrace.
Your grandfather seemingly had a point, but if he was right, there’d be no crosswords, and possibly no music, art, books or dramas, I fear!
mc-rapper67 Thanks for your reply. They didn’t consider themselves poor, though they brought up eight children in a two bedroom terrace.
Your grandfather seemingly had a point, but if he was right, there’d be no crosswords, and possibly no music, art, books or dramas, I fear!
Sorry, repeated comment because it seemed to be refusing to post my reply.