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TH6: A Little Game reminder & a helpful hint

Hello Watsonians–

Popping in to remind you that five days remain to play along with our TH6:EveryLinkRingsTrue warm up game.  Responses to the quiz are welcomed through January 29th.  Several very good, almost-100%-correct attempts have been submitted. Up to this point, however, only one of our Watsonians has managed to solve all five questions correctly on the first try.  (Change-of-heart-do-overs are also welcome through the 29th.)

Almost invariably question #3 is proving to the problem.  After correctly solving question #2, our quiz takers are making an assumption as to the first part of #3 which does not make sense when linked to the remaining questions because the assumption is incorrect.  If you are willing to give it a try (or a re-do), I recommend you think about Holmes’s good advice:

“There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.”

Question #3 requires you to look beyond the most obvious.

I have re-posted the questions below if you would like to give them a try. Since all the questions link, it is certainly possible to work from the bottom up.

Many thanks to all of you that have taken the time to play the game,

Margie/ JHWS ‘Mopsy’

  1. In ten minutes or less, accept a child. With the child in mind, choose 4 brief letters.
  1. Turn your four letters into a verb, send it across the moor, and confirm who it is not. Who?
  1. Find a restorative for [the answer to #2], and then find the soldier who supposedly took an expanded version of the same. What expanded restorative?
  1. Compound the cost for a lady to have a similar restorative. How much?
  1. With a like amount, buy a thief. Who?

Helpful Hint:  Your final answer should be appropriate for the times with February right around the corner.

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On January 24th… “Barcarolle”

‘I think I can promise you that you will feel even less humorous as the evening advances. Now, look here, Count Sylvius. I’m a busy man and I can’t waste time. I’m going into that bedroom. Pray make yourselves quite at home in my absence. You can explain to your friend how the matter lies without the restraint of my presence. I shall try over the Hoffmann Barcarolle upon my violin. In five minutes I shall return for your final answer. You quite grasp the alternative, do you not? Shall we take you, or shall we have the stone?’

Holmes withdrew, picking up his violin from the corner as he passed. A few moments later the long-drawn, wailing notes of that most haunting of tunes came faintly through the closed door of the bedroom.

Portrait of Hoffmann by an unidentified painter ca. 1800 (University of Adelaide), via Wikimedia Commons

Ernst Theodor Amadeus (E. T. A.) Hoffmann was born Ernst Theodor Wilhelm Hoffmann on January 24th, 1776, in Königsberg, East Prussia (now Kaliningrad, Russia).

He was a painter, a composer, and a writer. Three of his stories – “Der Sandmann” (The Sandman), Rath Krespel (Councillor Krespel; published in English translation as The Cremona Violin), and Die Geschichte vom verlorenen Spiegelbilde (The Story of the Lost Reflection) – formed the basis of Offenbach’s final opera, “The Tales of Hoffmann”. The soprano/mezzo-soprano duet, “Belle nuit, ô nuit d’amour”, is considered the most famous barcarolle ever written and often referred to as simply “The Barcarolle”.

[Hat-tip to Leah Guinn and Jaime N Mahoney and their fantastic A Curious Collection of Dates: Through the Year with Sherlock Holmes”]

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On January 23rd…

January 23, 1891: Holmes “incommoded” Moriarty. [FINA]

Illustration by Sidney Paget for The Strand Magazine (December, 1893)

“You evidently don’t know me,” said he.

“On the contrary,” I answered, “I think it is fairly evident that I do. Pray take a chair. I can spare you five minutes if you have anything to say.”

“All that I have to say has already crossed your mind,” said he.

“Then possibly my answer has crossed yours,” I replied.

“You stand fast?”

“Absolutely.”

He clapped his hand into his pocket, and I raised the pistol from the table. But he merely drew out a memorandum-book in which he had scribbled some dates.

“You crossed my path on the 4th of January,” said he. “On the 23rd you incommoded me; by the middle of February I was seriously inconvenienced by you; at the end of March I was absolutely hampered in my plans; and now, at the close of April, I find myself placed in such a position through your continual persecution that I am in positive danger of losing my liberty. The situation is becoming an impossible one.”

“Have you any suggestion to make?” I asked.

“You must drop it, Mr Holmes,” said he, swaying his face about. “You really must, you know.”

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TH6: An announcement and a little game

Hello Watsonians!

With the New Year underway, it is time to begin thinking about that annual event our ‘Calder’ (Brad Keefauver) once dubbed “Treasure or Torture”–the annual John H Watson Society Treasure Hunt.   With ‘Selena Buttons’ approval, I am pleased to serve as Treasure Hunt Master for 2018.  I hope to concoct a hunt you will find challenging and fun.  We are taking a somewhat different approach this year. ‘TH6: Every Link Rings True’ will be a 50-question quiz rather than our usual 100 questions, and all the questions will link.   Three of our previous hunts have featured some linking sections that were popular with our competitors.

To get you thinking about the possibility of participating this year, I have a small, five-question quiz below for you to think about over the next two weeks. Please do not post your answers here; your answers should be emailed to: treasurehunt@johnhwatsonsociety.com.  Answers will be accepted through January 29th.

Won’t you play along?  As Holmes told Watson: “’Yes, you can, Watson. And you will, for you have never failed to play the game. I am sure you will play it to the end.”

Margie/JHWS ‘Mopsy’

TH6: Every Link Rings True Introduction Quiz

  1. In ten minutes or less, accept a child. With the child in mind, choose 4 brief letters. What four letters?
  2. Turn your four letters into a verb, send it across the moor, and confirm who it is not. Who?
  3. Find a restorative for [the answer to #2], and then find the soldier who supposedly took an expanded version of the same. What expanded restorative?
  4. Compound the cost for a lady to have a similar restorative. How much?
  5. With a like amount, buy a thief. Who?

Helpful Hint:  Your final answer should be appropriate for the times with February right around the corner.

‘It is so long a chain, and yet every link rings true.’

 

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On January 12th…

January 12 (or thereabouts), 1903: Sir James Saunders diagnosed Godfrey Emsworth’s disease as pseudo-leprosy. [BLAN]

Illustration by Howard K. Elcock for The Strand Magazine (November, 1926)

I was finishing this little analysis of the case when the door was opened and the austere figure of the great dermatologist was ushered in. But for once his sphinx-like features had relaxed and there was a warm humanity in his eyes. He strode up to Colonel Emsworth and shook him by the hand.

‘It is often my lot to bring ill-tidings, and seldom good,’ said he. ‘This occasion is the more welcome. It is not leprosy.’

‘What?’

‘A well-marked case of pseudo-leprosy or ichthyosis, a scale-like affection of the skin, unsightly, obstinate, but possibly curable, and certainly non-infective. Yes, Mr Holmes, the coincidence is a remarkable one. But is it coincidence? Are there not subtle forces at work of which we know little? Are we assured that the apprehension, from which this young man has no doubt suffered terribly since his exposure to its contagion, may not produce a physical effect which simulates that which it fears? At any rate, I pledge my professional reputation – But the lady has fainted! I think that Mr Kent had better be with her until she recovers from this joyous shock.’

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On January 10th… The Metropolitan Railway

By Unknown (illegible) (The Illustrated London News, Issue 1181, page 692) [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

“The trains which traverse the lines of rail beside which the body was found are those which run from west to east, some being purely Metropolitan, and some from Willesden and outlying junctions. It can be stated for certain that this young man, when he met his death, was travelling in this direction at some late hour of the night, but at what point he entered the train it is impossible to state.”

“His ticket, of course, would show that.”

“There was no ticket in his pockets.”

“No ticket! Dear me, Watson, this is really very singular. According to my experience it is not possible to reach the platform of a Metropolitan train without exhibiting one’s ticket. Presumably, then, the young man had one. Was it taken from him in order to conceal the station from which he came? It is possible. Or did he drop it in the carriage? That is also possible. But the point is of curious interest. I understand that there was no sign of robbery?” [BRUC]

The Metropolitan Railway opened its first line to the public on January 10, 1863 (just after Holmes’s own 9th birthday, per Baring-Gould). Of course, by the time we join Holmes and Watson in London, the Underground is already well-established.

My friend rose lazily from his armchair and stood with his hands in the pockets of his dressing-gown, looking over my shoulder. It was a bright, crisp February morning, and the snow of the day before still lay deep upon the ground, shimmering brightly in the wintry sun. Down the centre of Baker Street it had been ploughed into a brown crumbly band by the traffic, but at either side and on the heaped-up edges of the foot-paths it still lay as white as when it fell. The grey pavement had been cleaned and scraped, but was still dangerously slippery, so that there were fewer passengers than usual. Indeed, from the direction of the Metropolitan Station no one was coming save the single gentleman whose eccentric conduct had drawn my attention. [BERY]

[Hat-tip to Leah Guinn and Jaime N Mahoney and their fantastic book, A Curious Collection of Dates: Through the Year with Sherlock Holmes.]

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On January 8th…

Chalk pit off Silkstead Lane near Silkstead Manor Farm. Photo by Pierre Terre [CC BY-SA 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
January 8, 1885: Joseph Openshaw was killed by a fall into a chalk pit. [FIVE]

On the third day after the coming of the letter my father went from home to visit an old friend of his, Major Freebody, who is in command of one of the forts upon Portsdown Hill. I was glad that he should go, for it seemed to me that he was further from danger when he was away from home. In that, however, I was in error. Upon the second day of his absence I received a telegram from the Major, imploring me to come at once. My father had fallen over one of the deep chalk-pits which abound in the neighbourhood, and was lying senseless, with a shattered skull. I hurried to him, but he passed away without having ever recovered his consciousness. He had, as it appears, been returning from Fareham in the twilight, and as the country was unknown to him, and the chalk-pit unfenced, the jury had no hesitation in bringing in a verdict of “Death from accidental causes”. Carefully as I examined every fact connected with his death, I was unable to find anything which could suggest the idea of murder. There were no signs of violence, no footmarks, no robbery, no record of strangers having been seen upon the roads. And yet I need not tell you that my mind was far from at ease, and that I was well-nigh certain that some foul plot had been woven round him.

January 8, 1888 (or maybe 1889): Jack Douglas confessed to killing Ted Baldwin. [VALL]

I was on my guard all that next day and never went out into the park. It’s as well, or he’d have had the drop on me with that buck-shot gun of his before ever I could draw on him. After the bridge was up – my mind was always more restful when that bridge was up in the evenings – I put the thing clear out of my head. I never figured on his getting into the house and waiting for me. But when I made my round in my dressing-gown, as my habit was, I had no sooner entered the study than I scented danger. I guess when a man has had dangers in his life – and I’ve had more than most in my time – there is a kind of sixth sense that waves the red flag. I saw the signal clear enough, and yet I couldn’t tell you why. Next instant I spotted a boot under the window curtain, and then I saw why plain enough.

Illustration by Frank Wiles for The Strand Magazine, (January, 1915)

I’d just the one candle that was in my hand, but there was a good light from the hall lamp through the open door. I put down the candle and jumped for a hammer that I’d left on the mantel. At the same moment he sprang at me. I saw the glint of a knife and I lashed at him with the hammer. I got him somewhere, for the knife tinkled down on the floor. He dodged round the table as quick as an eel, and a moment later he’d got his gun from under his coat. I heard him cock it, but I had got hold of it before he could fire. I had it by the barrel, and we wrestled for it all ends up for a minute or more. It was death to the man that lost his grip. He never lost his grip, but he got it butt downwards for a moment too long. Maybe it was I that pulled the trigger. Maybe we just jolted it off between us. Anyhow, he got both barrels in the face, and there I was, staring down at all that was left of Ted Baldwin.

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A Mystery Tid Bit Answer

Robert Perret (JHWS “Sampson”) writes in response to our Mystery Tid Bit Post:

I can only find the USH citation online, and a brief wiki mention of Calabash. It appears to be neither the first nor the last Sherlockian writing from Asimov and I don’t have anything else to go on, so submitted as is for partial credit, I guess?​

C13593. Asimov, Isaac. “Those Endearing Old Charms,” Calabash, No. 1 (March 1982), 13.
“Let me tell you of all those endearing old charms / That we’ve loved and enjoyed so for years, / Will stay constant despite Moriarty’s alarms / For while Holmes is alive we’ve no fears…”

Chips answers: Asimov’s song is based on “Believe Me, if All Those Endearing Young Charms“, a popular song written in 1808 by Irish poet Thomas Moore using a traditional Irish air.

In the comments to that post, Roger Johnson (JHWS “Count”) correctly identified the piece, writing:

Asimov, a very accomplished versifier, here writes a variant on Thomas Moore’s 1808 poem:

I.
BELIEVE me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,
Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,
Like fairy-gifts, fading away!
Thou wouldst still be ador’d as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will;
And, around the dear ruin, each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still!

II.
It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofan’d by a tear,
That the fervour and faith of a soul can be known,
To which time will but make thee more dear!
Oh! the heart, that has truly lov’d, never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close;
As the sun-flower turns on her god, when he sets,
The same look which she turn’d when he rose!

Asimov followed the example of 1946 James Montgomery’s “Irregular Song”, written in the mid-1940s:

I
Believe me, if all those endearing old yarns
Which we cherish so fondly today
Were to vanish ‘neath Boscombe’s or Hurlstone’s dark tarns,
Like fairy gifts fading away,
There would still be those papers well guarded by Cox,
Watson-data as yet unrevealed,
And the records contained in that battered old box
New Conanical treasure would yield.

II
Oh dear Sherlock, to share thy adventures we long,
As you crush London’s crime under heel,
And we sing in thy praise an Irregular Song,
Though it ne’er can express all we feel.
Let grim warfare and pestilence rage as they can,
You will still give long hours of joy
To the boy who, adoring, is now half a man –
Or the man who is yet half a boy.

Moore’s poem became famous when set to a traditional Irish tune, and Montgomery applied his fine tenor voice to singing his own words to that same tune. I’m not aware that Isaac Asimov regaled the BSI with a musical rendition of “Those Endearing Old Charms” – but I wouldn’t put it past him.

Richard Olken (JHWS “Palmer”) added:

The tune is also that of Harvard’s anthem, Fair Harvard

I
Fair Harvard! we join in thy Jubilee throng,
And with blessings surrender thee o’er
By these Festival-rites, from the Age that is past,
To the Age that is waiting before.
O Relic and Type of our ancestors’ worth,
That hast long kept their memory warm,
First flow’r of their wilderness! Star of their night!
Calm rising thro’ change and thro’ storm.

II
Farewell! be thy destinies onward and bright!
To thy children the lesson still give,
With freedom to think, and with patience to bear,
And for Right ever bravely to live.
Let not moss-covered Error moor thee at its side,
As the world on Truth’s current glides by,
Be the herald of Light, and the bearer of Love,
Till the stock of the Puritans die.
Samuel Gilman, Class of 1811

Asimov did sing to the tune of O Danny Boy, as noted in the March, 1984 issue of the Baker Street Journal (Vol 34, #1, Page 7)

O, SHERLOCK HOLMES
by Isaac Asimov
(Sung to the tune of “Danny Boy)

O, Sherlock Holmes, the Baker Street Irregulars
Are gathered here to honour you today,
For in their hearts, you glitter like a thousand stars
And like the stars, you’ll never pass away.
This year that’s new, must tick away its months and die,
For Father Time moves on remorselessly,
But even he can’t tarnish, as he passes by,
O, Sherlock Holmes, O, Holmes, your immortality.

O, Sherlock Holmes, the world is filled with evil still
And Moriarty rages everywhere.
The terror waits to strike and by the billions kill.
The mushroom cloud is more than we can bear.
But still there’s hope in what you’ve come to symbolise,
In that great principle you’ve made us see.
We may yet live if only we can improvise,
O, Sherlock Holmes, O, Holmes, your rationality.

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Heading to New York

Next week, Sherlockians from across the country and around the world will gather in New York City to celebrate the Master’s birthday in grand style. Scheduled events include the BSI Annual Dinner, the Gaslight Gala, the Baker Street Babes Daintiest Scream on the Moor charity ball, a Distinguished Speaker Lecture presented by Martin Edwards, an informal brunch hosted by ASH, a vendor’s room, and more.

I’m very excited to be attending for the very first time. Will I see you there? Let me know in the comments! (If you’re following along from home, be sure to check our twitter feed during the Weekend!)

Watsonian badge ribbons
I’ll have some badge ribbons on hand, just for fun!
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On January 2nd…

January 2, 1881: Watson moved into 221B Baker Street. [STUD]

We met next day as he had arranged, and inspected the rooms at No. 221B, Baker Street, of which he had spoken at our meeting. They consisted of a couple of comfortable bedrooms and a single large airy sitting-room, cheerfully furnished, and illuminated by two broad windows. So desirable in every way were the apartments, and so moderate did the terms seem when divided between us, that the bargain was concluded upon the spot, and we at once entered into possession. That very evening I moved my things round from the hotel, and on the following morning Sherlock Holmes followed me with several boxes and portmanteaus.

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On January 1st… The Beginning

On January 1, 1881, Dr John H Watson, recently returned to London and living in “a private hotel in the Strand,” realized he had been “spending such money as [he] had, considerably more freely than [he] ought.” He decided “to leave the hotel, and to take up [his] quarters in some less pretentious and less expensive domicile.”

At the Criterion Bar, he was surprised by an old acquaintance, young Stamford, who just happened to know of another young man in search of someone with whom to share the expense of living in London. And so off to Barts they went….

Illustration by George Hutchinson (1891)

There was only one student in the room, who was bending over a distant table absorbed in his work. At the sound of our steps he glanced round and sprang to his feet with a cry of pleasure. ‘I’ve found it! I’ve found it,’ he shouted to my companion, running towards us with a test-tube in his hand. ‘I have found a re-agent which is precipitated by haemoglobin, and by nothing else.’ Had he discovered a gold mine, greater delight could not have shone upon his features.

‘Dr Watson, Mr Sherlock Holmes,’ said Stamford, introducing us.

‘How are you?’ he said cordially, gripping my hand with a strength for which I should hardly have given him credit. ‘You have been in Afghanistan, I perceive.’

A very happy new year, dear Watsonians!

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A Portrait of Basil

Sometimes, being on the Internet leads to the odd serendipitous occurrence. Chips came across this beautiful sketch of Basil of Baker Street, but we had no way of identifying the artist. [And I tried every search I could think of! -Selena Buttons] Then, the very same sketch appeared on our Twitter timeline, posted by BakerStreetCrow (JHWS “Corvus”), with a link to the artist’s Tumblr post! And so we are happy to share this lovely art and to be able to attribute it to K.M. Hardy (scarvenartist)! (We’d also love to see a Dawson to accompany this Basil, because we love David Q Dawson.)

Basil of Baker Street, as drawn by K.M. Hardy (scarvenartist)
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Gianni Bonagura 1925-2017

Michele Lopez (JHWS “Reggie”) posted yesterday in the comments of our Billiards with Uno Studio in Holmes post:

For those interested in this post, I wanted to report the passing of Gianni Bonagura, who played John Watson in the RAI Italian TV movie in 1968. Bonagura died on the 8th of October, 2017, at the age of 92. A witty and enjoyable Watson, he was courteous enough to talk to us of Uno Studio in Holmes about his experiences on the set of that Canonical production in a telephone interview in the early 2000s.

Gianni Bonagura was born Gianfelice Bonagura on October 27, 1925 in Milan, Lombardy, Italy. He played Dr Watson to Nando Gazzolo’s Sherlock Holmes for a six-episode television series in 1968. He died on October 8, 2017 in Milan.

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Compliments of the Season

This is my copy of the edition of this story published by the Baker Street Irregulars in 1948. The volume has the wonderful preface to the story by the Christopher Morley. I hope that all the John H Watson Society and Sherlockians everywhere are reading this story today. I wish my column editor Selena/Beth all my best wishes for the most blessed and warm family Holiday for all the love and care she has put into working with me and so improving our column beyond any effect I could do. -Ron/Chips

[All the best to you and yours, dear Chips. And to each and every one of you out there. –Selena Buttons]

 

 

[Editing note: This was scheduled for the 27th, but did not actually post!]

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A Christmas Wish for Our Group

Chips writes: Selena and all my JHWS friends, please accept this as my Christmas wishes for all of you to have a blessed and holy Holiday season. I will be off line for a while and hopefully will be back with you again. All my Thanks for your friendships and my best wishes for you and yours.

[My best wishes to you, Chips, and to you, dear readers. –Selena Buttons]

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Tid Bit from a Special Story

This excerpt and picture appeared in the Norwegian Explorers group on Facebook recently. [Reposted from I Hear of Sherlock, so hat-tip to Burt & Scott! -Selena]

Chips writes: These are the word pictures that I fell totally and completely into the world of 1895 and all that followed after.
-Ron, aka the Game is and will forever be Afoot until I cross the Terrace.

“It was a September evening, and not yet seven o’clock, but the day had been a dreary one, and a dense drizzly fog lay low upon the great city. Mud colored clouds drooped sadly over the muddy streets. Down the Strand the lamps were but misty splotches of diffused light which threw a feeble circular glimmer upon the slimy pavement. The yellow glare from the shop-windows streamed out into the steamy, vaporous air, and threw a murky, shifting radiance across the crowded thoroughfare. There was, to my mind, something eerie and ghost-like in the endless procession of faces which flitted across these narrow bars of light,—sad faces and glad, haggard and merry. Like all human kind, they flitted from the gloom into the light, and so back into the gloom once more. I am not subject to impressions, but the dull, heavy evening, with the strange business upon which we were engaged, combined to make me nervous and depressed.” —The Sign of Four

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William Gillette and the Art of Sherlock Holmes

This ad was shared in the Facebook group The ART of Sherlock Holmes recently:

The quote in the middle of the ad from Booth Tarkington makes me hunger for more than just only 9 minutes of William Gillette’s voice speaking lines from his play “Sherlock Holmes.” The recording was made when Mr Gillette was 82 years old, and he passed on the next year.The voice when spliced with some of the scenes from the 1916 silent film are awesome to hear and behold.

I have never posted my 5 top actors who played Sherlock Holmes. Here is the passage on why William Gillette is number 3 on my list:

3. William Gillette. I have only seen him in the recently discovered print of his classic 1916 Sherlock Holmes silent film. I have only heard him speak his role in the 9 minutes of the recording that survived and is floating around the internet. The sound recording I heard makes me desperately wish I could have heard more. It was revealed that William Gillette was 82 at the time he made the recording. His voice was so fine and modulated that he mirrored the emotions I imagined each of his actions called for. Had I heard the whole play I am almost convinced that he would be number one. I love the line that William Gillette does not look like Sherlock Holmes but that Sherlock Holmes looks exactly like William Gillette.

Take Good Care of yourselves during this hectic Holiday Season. -Chips