Pock-mark to Zymurgy

When I was in the seventh grade, my class was chaperoned to a Massachusetts historical site. The ride on a school bus was a long one, so Miss Thynge arranged for us to have something to occupy us and keep us from being bored on the bus. It was a crossword puzzle that she had created. She showed us the biggest dictionary that I had ever seen and said that this would be the prize to the first person to get the puzzle done accurately.

Miss Thynge didn't know that my grandfather was a champion crossword puzzler who was busily creating the "best crossword puzzle dictionary in the world." For several years, my grandfather had let me help him and my knowledge of crosswords was probably exceptional for a twelve year old boy. I had no doubts that I would win the contest and I considered that marvelous dictionary as mine already.

Sure enough, I finished the puzzle in five minutes to the amazement of Miss Thynge. She was also amazed to find that it was all correct. I was visualizing how proud my Grandfather would be when I brought home that wonderful dictionary, when, a minute later, the smartest girl in the class, Betsy B., completed the puzzle, also correct. Now, Miss Thynge had a problem. Betsy was starting to cry, because she felt that she had also won the dictionary. Somehow, the time factor didn't matter to her.

Exhibiting the "wisdom of Solomon", Miss Thynge suddenly solved her problem. She borrowed a jack knife from one of the boys (we carried such dangerous weapons in our boots in those days.) She immediately measured the massive book with a squinted eye and sliced the book in half through its binding. The result was a two book set: Book one, for Betsy, went from Aardvark to Pocket Veto; Book two, for me, went from Pock-mark to Zymurgy. Thus, we both had prizes and were relatively happy.

Over the years, I have often thought about the influence Miss Thynge made on my life in many ways, and I have always admired her, but never more than when, fifty years after her historical incision, I found something at the annual Smith College Book Sale that made me admire her even more. It was Volume Two of the New Century Dictionary of the English Language, and its printed range was: Pock-mark to Zymurgy.