1922: The Year In Crosswords (2 of 3)

A Pether-bridge to a fairer future.

The same February F.P.A. began nodding to the crossword in his column, Margaret Petherbridge began writing copy for the puzzles. Arthur Wynne had dabbled in such intros, and the Jerry King puzzle put out some simple instructions, but no one committed to this like Petherbridge. In doing so, she gave the puzzle a voice. That voice was mostly hers, though she wasn't quite ready to admit that it belonged to a woman.

Her first effort was wordy and apologized for a few stretchy answers, but it still showed love.

Especially for St. Valentine’s Day, Robert Hamilton has fashioned this intriguing cross word in the shape of a fluttering heart pierced by the arrow of the good saint whose day we celebrate on the 14th. Of course, considering the exigencies of the situation, one must not be too hard on such roundabout ways and means as 37-40 [L CENTS for “fifty cents”], 66-79 [MLT as shortened “emulate”] and 81-94 [SANT as a “Nickname for Santa Claus”]. The French word and the German word used should be reasonably familiar. If you get this solved by Tuesday, send it to your best girl. She will be so impressed by your brain power that she will say “Yes” immediately.

Pithier lead-ins followed, communicating a joy you just didn’t see in the Jerry King feature.

Some people assemble crosswords as fast as Fords are put together. Remember, we can’t run the same author every Sunday…

To-day's puzzle comes all the way from Rochester, N.Y., and was sent on its way by Eleanor Woodworth. Yes, Eleanor, we thought it Wood-be-worth using, so here it is.

Here is a puzzle that we hope you sharks will like…

…and if it seems too easy, be comforted. Next week’s will be harder.

Her droll copy was unflappable, even in the face of this Easter monstrosity:

(GAAAHHH! It’s more unnerving than Donnie Darko…)

Petherbridge could poke fun at her own early indifference (while hiding her gender)—

Ye Ed. solved his first cross-word puzzle the other Sunday and found it rather fun. True, it was an easy one, and he had friends to help, but we don’t think he will get the habit. Sundays are far too complicated as they are.

—and responded several times to F.P.A.’s mentions of her work, even publishing a puzzle about him. (Shortening “Editor” as “Ed.” and “well-known” as “w.k.” was part of her style.)

Here is where the w.k. demon puzzler comes into his own, for this perfectly lovely crossword is dedicated to 79-80 [F.P.A.]. Truly, the glory of this moment should make up for any number of wasted Sunday mornings. The contribs are Helen and Sam Boudin, who confess that puzzling is their new indoor sport.

Can We Ship It?

Petherbridge concluded her “confessions” in The Cross Word Puzzle Book, thanking F.P.A. for—pretty much everything:

Since that momentous day, F.P.A.’s visits have grown less frequent—in fact, he has to make up excuses to come in and converse on other matters… So now you all know whom to thank for the perfection (more or less) of the cross word puzzle found each Sunday on the World Magazine’s Ingenuities Page.

This was the culmination of years of F.P.A. and Petherbridge alluding to each other, then alluding to each other’s allusions, immortalized in one of the key texts of publishing history.

At times, in light of what we know now, the playful tone of these allusions reads as a bit flirtatious. How warm did this relationship get? F.P.A., sixteen years Petherbridge’s senior, was married but a few years away from divorce and remarriage; Petherbridge was single, a few years away from her own marriage. One wonders. One wonders if they wondered.

But they could’ve just been good work buddies. We have no real evidence otherwise. Everyone can use like-minded friends of another gender, especially uncommon thinkers like humorists and crossword editors. In any case, the biggest new love in Petherbridge’s life was her work.

According to Hoyle

Petherbridge hadn’t yet firmed up the rules of crossword design for which she’d later be known, but she offered early thoughts about what was acceptable, or, as she’d put it, “according to Hoyle.”

Under her influence, grids grew more interconnected. Walled-off sections got rarer, fewer, and smaller.

Numbering also got easier. “Vertical” clues had been listed in “top-to-bottom, then left-to-right” order, as in the sample below.

Petherbridge quoted a letter from William C. Kaufman, suggesting “vertical” clues go in numerical order instead. She made no hard rule but wrote, “We hope the experts who contribute cross words will meditate upon the wisdom of the suggestion.” They did. By the end of the year, numerical order was becoming standard.

Like F.P.A., Petherbridge fostered talent, naming most contributors, apologizing when she couldn’t. A 1922 favorite was Florence Farwell, who composed this “baseball” and Maltese cross.

Another time, Petherbridge defended a contributor from critics:

A word to the wise—don't bother writing us about corrections unless you are sure of your point. For instance, the person who questions the mental poise of Miss K. Higginson because she defines “volt” as a “leap to avoid a thrust” is in a questionable mental attitude himself. “Volt” is a perfectly good fencing term.

“Of course ladies know fencing terms, boys. Ye Ed. doesn’t like it when you underestimate those ladies! Whenever he thinks about it, his beard itches.”

Next: The 1922 world of crosswords outside the World.