My father used to bring the 7 of us to Mr. Richardson’s farm to discuss legal issues with him. (My father being the lawyer for the family at the time.) While the two of them talked turkey, Mrs. Richardson would dish up huge servings of ice-cream for us kids. Huge soup bowls. So when Jack and I walked into The Hot Chocolate Sparrow in Orleans MA and I saw the ice-cream board and the source of it all, well, it was #Throwback Thursday all over again.
In print and online, right now, there’s a plenitude of crossword puzzles being left half-filled in with frustration completed.
We cruciverbalists are indebted to Liverpool guy Arthur Wynne.
He abandoned onion farming for journalism (some career move, why didn’t I think of that?), became editor of the New York World, and on December 21, 1913 filled a spare space in his paper with a device that he called a word cross.
Crosswords have a come a long way. From this…
The inspired tricks are bespoke, and more sophisticated than in 1913. You have to be completely distrustful of a word like flower, which can mean a petunia or peony, but also a river (rivers flow: geddit?)
Ah, the ingenuity and invention that is the language of crosswords today. Arthur Wynne would surely marvel at them. I know I do.