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Twenty-Seven Down

SUSAN ''''HEELER

BING! answered the time-clock as Mr. Griswold punched in at the
switchboard, completing another lunch hour of another unevent-
ful day at the bank. The short greying bond-clerk replaced his time
card in the rack and, staring at the young woman in front of him,
mumbled thru his coarse grey moustache, " ... deserted village back
here." Without waiting for a reply, he turned, hesitated, and then
inquired with raised eyebrows, "That was Goldsmith, wasn't it>"
And with that he walked away, Punch and the Washington Post under
his arm.

The switchboard operator smiled to hersel£-"there goes a funny
man. Reads as if he were going blind tomorrow, quotes Pound and
Poe as readily as Series 'E' regulations and yet he took a job in a bank,
ticking off adding machine tape day after day. Why? Doesn't make
good sense ... he sits out in that drafty hallway, almost unaware of
the soiled money that passes through his hands; his senses are fixed
on the miniature dramas that take place on the sidewalk stage outside
his window. And another thing ... he constantly works cross-word
puzzles-says it's more of a mental exercise than counting money!
I wonder if he's ever really happy ... "

Just then the buzzer hummed on the board. "Yes, please?" asked
the young girl.

"Thz. Griswold," the voice replied. "Have you got a dictionary
out there? Got a couple words here I can't. _ ."

"Yes, one's right here on the shelf behind me."
"Good. Be out in a minute."

Click-and he hung up.

Now that's odd, she thought. Usually he never goes to such
trouble.

"This it?"

Mr. Griswold appeared, his shirt-sleeves rolled up and the irksome
puzzle in his hand.

"Gotta find this word-eight letters; see? It's the first time I've
come so close to finishing; can't give up now. Let's see, puzzle or
predicament ... has an EN beginning ... here! How's this strike
you? Enigma, a riddle or puzzle-twenty-seven down."

"All through now?" asked the young girl.

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