The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat
They took some honey, and plenty of money
Wrapped up in a five pound note
The Owl looked up to the stars above
And sang to a small guitar
'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love
What a beautiful Pussy you are
You are
You are
What a beautiful Pussy you are!'
Edward Lear - The Owl and the Pussycat
Well, after a few days on the high seas the honeyjar was empty and the only other onboard provisions were the ship's rats. (Both did agree how splendid and numerous were the little rodents).
Owl's guitar playing was becoming a problem - he had never mastered more than two chords, and his lyrics were decidedly one-note. The Pussycat decided she was ready for some new entertainment.
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A game - both simple and easy. With your rodent larder and my rodent larder, we can have us some fun!
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Do two larders mean we have a horde between us?
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This pussycat would never play words games with an owl. I have a game called 'Rodent Rebus'. The first rule of Rodent Rebus is...
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"No playing with your food?"
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No! It's "Winner takes all". We each put some rats into one big pile, and then take turns, pulling out upto half-a-dozen each.
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You mean like Jenga? I do like Jenga!
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No. Nothing so messy. Who ever takes the last rat wins, and takes all of the rats.
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So it's all about the numbers? I don't like numbers so much.
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You like rats though, right?
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Indeed I do. What a clever Pussy you are! Let's play!
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An easy game. Both players put in seven rats, and the Pussycat made the first move. Owl, still looking somewhat bemused and fluttering his feathers, took just one rat, a particularly well-fed morsel.
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Oh, Mrs Frisby! My sugar-plump fairy! How did you get into that pile?
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I named a rat I'd caught once too. Tiffin, I called him. Once.
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Despite this early setback, the Pussycat continued with her longterm plan, and sequestered three to the side. Seeing an opening, Owl cleared out the last five and hooted his joy at winning all fourteen tasty morsels!
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Botheration, you've taken me apart!
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I did! I did! How tasty!
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This calls for a second round!
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I suppose... But don't think Mrs Crispy is back on the menu!
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Frisby! Her name is ... oh, never mind.
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Another contest, this time upto nine rats could be taken at once. Owl antes up his original seven, and the Pussycat matches him again. She makes her first move, one guaranteed to win her the round. And indeed, on her next go after Owl's, she cleared out the pile.
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I'm not sure about this game of yours, pussycat. I've got seven of your rats, and you have seven of mine. What's the point?
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Perhaps we do need to add a little spice...
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You've got quince and you've been holding out on me??
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If only. Quince. Lovely, perfumed, quince. This time, we will have two stacks of rats - but you can still only pick from one pile, upto a neat ten each round.
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Pussy said to the Owl, 'You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?'
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
The third round, in which two stacks of rats further confused Owl. Playing for some serious rodentage now, they each put in thirty-one rats, and split them in two piles, one shy of two dozen dirty rats and the Rattus Rattus rest. The pussycat just couldn't resist and started with an ultimately winning pick from the smaller pile. Lamely waving a wing whilst protesting his confusion, the Owl picked from the larger pile a single rodent.
Disdaining the paucity of his selection, the Pussycat grabbed a full quota from the same pile. Shrugging, Owl idly selected a half dozen whilst keeping an eye on his squeaking selections, and threw the pussycat a glare when she took the same number from the other group. This time he picked nine rats from the larger pile, and groaned when the Pussycat immediately grabbed a couple from the same pile. Recognising the situation he was in, Owl conceded and pushed all the rats over towards the pussycat.
Owl demanded a rematch - and in this fourth round, he raised the ante to thirty-three each and declared the limit raised to two dozen! The two piles they made were very uneven. Lifting an eyebrow, Pussycat reached out to start (and effectively end) the game, swiping all bar one of the smaller pile.
Seeming perplexed, Owl took a dozen, swiftly matched by the Pussycat taking one more than that. Trying a new tactic, Owl grabbed a single Rodent from the large pile, only to see the Pussycat clear the other pile (all one rodent of it) entirely.
Huffing, and sighing deeply again, Owl conceded, somewhat ungracefully.
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I'll be going first this time little miss! And I'm taking as many rats as I want on each go. You may do so also!
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Well, yes, yes, whyever not? This will be splendid! Let's have another stack too - lots to choose from!
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Wait, what?
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Despite his ruined plan, Owl gamely ante-d up to match the pussycat's increased challenge, a little shy of a hundred a piece (although Mrs F remained back in strigine danger). Whilst thinking about the three piles, Owl nervously pushed the rats around into three regular three-sided shapes on the bottom of the boat. Once she'd finished an impromptu grooming, the Pussycat looked over and smirked, then declared those to be the starting piles.
His agitation at the sudden start evident in his fluttering pinions, Owl took thirty-three from the midsized pile. The pussycat made a winning move. After pausing for a few seconds, Owl took thirty rats from the largest pile - then the Pussycat took the same number from the (now) largest collection of rodents.
Things went quickly down hill from there, and Owl called it quits.
'Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?' Said the Piggy, 'I will.'
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.
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Not again! You've taken a fair chunk of my stash! How much nibbling can I get out of this Mrs Crispy?
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Frisby! Mrs Frisby! Shall we have one last round? All in? You can start, too.
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Mrs Pussycat was playing a dangerous game. She had taken enough of Owl's stash to sting him into risking the rest, whilst having him thinking she had an attachment to Mrs Frisby. Really, she had no special interest in the overfed rodent, but if Owl thought she did, he'd expect her to make a risky offer and agree to play again. Then she could win the whole of his stash!
They put their combined rats together, (they had had a round five hundred between them, but some nervous eating on the Owl's part had reduced that number), and separated them into three piles, two not dissimilar in size, and one the combined size of the first two. The Pussycat was pleased with her work, and called on Owl to begin.
Owl was a cunning old thing and not without a scheme or two of his own - like chasing fat rats away so Pussycat would grab them and think she had something to barter with, or like pretending not to know this game inside out.
Or bald-faced lying, for example, he'd told porkies about his antipathy toward numbers - really he liked them quite a lot!
Also, Owl wasn't above flat-out cheating...
Under cover of a last lame fluttering of his wing, Owl moved a few rodents from the smallest pile to the second pile, and hooted loudly whilst taking his huge pick of rats from the largest pile.
The Pussycat, remarking on gluttony and the deadly sins, pulled a mere four from the smallest pile towards her. Laughing agreeably, Owl matched her choice, taking four from the middle heap.
The two continued to take four apiece, from differing piles. After a particularly loud yawn from Owl, the Pussycat made a remark about the similarity between owls and sloths. Most unkind!
The numbers decreased until, panic!, the Pussycat realised there were more rats than she'd thought in one of the piles! She quickly changed her mind, but whilst Owl was making his move, she re-counted the piles and her error was clear.
It was all over for the Pussycat and she could see that plainly. She conceded gracefully, and pushed all the rodents over to Owl.
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It seems what's mine is yours, Owl.
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Oh yes.
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And the Owl or the Pussycat sailed on.
Let A-E be the Pussycat's first move in rounds 1-5, and F be Owl's first move in the last round. The cache is hidden at N55 AB.EC W 3 D.F
Adventures in the peagreen boat continued across oceans, and into stranger lands.
