We are now in September 1933, and this is the week in which the competition was moved to the place where it still remains in New Statesman – at the end. You’ll notice that the writer (Gerald Barry or just perhaps Max Nicholson, who seems to be the deputy editor now) make a point of saying how successful a feature it has been:
The judge, Norman Collins, asks for a poem to the metre of ‘The Walrus and the Carpenter’ – about packing for going on holiday. The competition would have been set in August, and it must have seemed a curiously dated exercise when read. There is no B competition, but an offer of three prizes (two, one, half a guinea). Collins has to put up with some stick for asking for 16 lines, when the stipulated poem has six line verses; and he also declines to give out the third prize. It’s perhaps the shortest competition column there has been.