This puzzle has to do with railway routes, and in these days of much travelling should prove useful. The map of England shows twenty-four towns, connected by a system of railways. A resident at the town marked A at the top of the map proposes to visit every one of the towns once and only once, and to finish up his tour at Z. This would be easy enough if he were able to cut across country by road, as well as by rail, but he is not. How does he perform the feat? Take your pencil and, starting from A, pass from town to town, making a dot in the towns you have visited, and see if you can end at Z.
87 (#pgepubid00224).—The Chifu-Chemulpo Puzzle
Here is a puzzle that was once on sale in the London shops. It represents a military train—an engine and eight cars. The puzzle is to reverse the cars, so that they shall be in the order 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, instead of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, with the engine left, as at first, on the side track. Do this in the fewest possible moves. Every time the engine or a car is moved from the main to the side track, or vice versa, it counts a move for each car or engine passed over one of the points. Moves along the main track are not counted. With 8 at the extremity, as shown, there is just room to pass 7 on to the side track, run 8 up to 6, and bring down 7 again; or you can put as many as five cars, or four and the engine, on the siding at the same time. The cars move without the aid of the engine. The purchaser is invited to "try to do it in 20 moves." How many do you require?
88 (#pgepubid00225).—The Eccentric Market-woman
Mrs. Covey, who keeps a little poultry farm in Surrey, is one of the most eccentric women I ever met. Her manner of doing business is always original, and sometimes quite weird and wonderful. She was once found explaining to a few of her choice friends how she had disposed of her day's eggs. She had evidently got the idea from an old puzzle with which we are all familiar; but as it is an improvement on it, I have no hesitation in presenting it to my readers. She related that she had that day taken a certain number of eggs to market. She sold half of them to one customer, and gave him half an egg over. She next sold a third of what she had left, and gave a third of an egg over. She then sold a fourth of the remainder, and gave a fourth of an egg over. Finally, she disposed of a fifth of the remainder, and gave a fifth of an egg over. Then what she had left she divided equally among thirteen of her friends. And, strange to say, she had not throughout all these transactions broken a single egg. Now, the puzzle is to find the smallest possible number of eggs that Mrs. Covey could have taken to market. Can you say how many?
89 (#pgepubid00226).—The Primrose Puzzle
Select the name of any flower that you think suitable, and that contains eight letters. Touch one of the primroses with your pencil and jump over one of the adjoining flowers to another, on which you mark the first letter of your word. Then touch another vacant flower, and again jump over one in another direction, and write down the second letter. Continue this (taking the letters in their proper order) until all the letters have been written down, and the original word can be correctly read round the garland. You must always touch an unoccupied flower, but the flower jumped over may be occupied or not. The name of a tree may also be selected. Only English words may be used.
90 (#pgepubid00227).—The Round Table
Seven friends, named Adams, Brooks, Cater, Dobson, Edwards, Fry, and Green, were spending fifteen days together at the seaside, and they had a round breakfast table at the hotel all to themselves. It was agreed that no man should ever sit down twice with the same two neighbours. As they can be seated, under these conditions, in just fifteen ways, the plan was quite practicable. But could the reader have prepared an arrangement for every sitting? The hotel proprietor was asked to draw up a scheme, but he miserably failed.
91 (#pgepubid00228).—The Five Tea Tins
Sometimes people will speak of mere counting as one of the simplest operations in the world; but on occasions, as I shall show, it is far from easy. Sometimes the labour can be diminished by the use of little artifices; sometimes it is practically impossible to make the required enumeration without having a very clear head indeed. An ordinary child, buying twelve postage stamps, will almost instinctively say, when he sees there are four along one side and three along the other, "Four times three are twelve;" while his tiny brother will count them all in rows, "1, 2, 3, 4," etc. If the child's mother has occasion to add up the numbers 1, 2, 3, up to 50, she will most probably make a long addition sum of the fifty numbers; while her husband, more used to arithmetical operations, will see at a glance that by joining the numbers at the extremes there are 25 pairs of 51; therefore, 25×51=1,275. But his smart son of twenty may go one better and say, "Why multiply by 25? Just add two 0's to the 51 and divide by 4, and there you are!"
A tea merchant has five tin tea boxes of cubical shape, which he keeps on his counter in a row, as shown in our illustration. Every box has a picture on each of its six sides, so there are thirty pictures in all; but one picture on No. 1 is repeated on No. 4, and two other pictures on No. 4 are repeated on No. 3. There are, therefore, only twenty-seven different pictures. The owner always keeps No. 1 at one end of the row, and never allows Nos. 3 and 5 to be put side by side.
The tradesman's customer, having obtained this information, thinks it a good puzzle to work out in how many ways the boxes may be arranged on the counter so that the order of the five pictures in front shall never be twice alike. He found the making of the count a tough little nut. Can you work out the answer without getting your brain into a tangle? Of course, two similar pictures may be in a row, as it is all a question of their order.
92 (#pgepubid00229).—The Four Porkers
The four pigs are so placed, each in a separate sty, that although every one of the thirty-six sties is in a straight line (either horizontally, vertically, or diagonally), with at least one of the pigs, yet no pig is in line with another. In how many different ways may the four pigs be placed to fulfil these conditions? If you turn this page round you get three more arrangements, and if you turn it round in front of a mirror you get four more. These are not to be counted as different arrangements.
93 (#pgepubid00230).—The Number Blocks
The children in the illustration have found that a large number of very interesting and instructive puzzles may be made out of number blocks; that is, blocks bearing the ten digits or Arabic figures—1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 0. The particular puzzle that they have been amusing themselves with is to divide the blocks into two groups of five, and then so arrange them in the form of two multiplication sums that one product shall be the same as the other. The number of possible solutions is very considerable, but they have hit on that arrangement that gives the smallest possible product. Thus, 3,485 multiplied by 2 is 6,970, and 6,970 multiplied by 1 is the same. You will find it quite impossible to get any smaller result.
Now, my puzzle is to find the largest possible result. Divide the blocks into any two groups of five that you like, and arrange them to form two multiplication sums that shall produce the same product and the largest amount possible. That is all, and yet it is a nut that requires some cracking. Of course, fractions are not allowed, nor any tricks whatever. The puzzle is quite interesting enough in the simple form in which I have given it. Perhaps it should be added that the multipliers may contain two figures.
94 (#pgepubid00231).—Foxes and Geese
Here is a little puzzle of the moving counters class that my readers will probably find entertaining. Make a diagram of any convenient size similar to that shown in our illustration, and provide six counters—three marked to represent foxes and three to represent geese. Place the geese on the discs 1, 2, and 3, and the foxes on the discs numbered 10, 11, and 12
Now the puzzle is this. By moving one at a time, fox and goose alternately, along a straight line from one disc to the next one, try to get the foxes on 1, 2, and 3, and the geese on 10, 11, and 12—that is, make them exchange places—in the fewest possible moves.
But you must be careful never to let a fox and goose get within reach of each other, or there will be trouble. This rule, you will find, prevents you moving the fox from 11 on the first move, as on either 4 or 6 he would be within reach of a goose. It also prevents your moving a fox from 10 to 9, or from 12 to 7. If you play 10 to 5, then your next move may be 2 to 9 with a goose, which you could not have played if the fox had not previously gone from 10. It is perhaps unnecessary to say that only one fox or one goose can be on a disc at the same time. Now, what is the smallest number of moves necessary to make the foxes and geese change places?
95 (#pgepubid00232).—Robinson Crusoe's Table
Here is a curious extract from Robinson Crusoe's diary. It is not to be found in the modern editions of the Adventures, and is omitted in the old. This has always seemed to me to be a pity.
"The third day in the morning, the wind having abated during the night, I went down to the shore hoping to find a typewriter and other useful things washed up from the wreck of the ship; but all that fell in my way was a piece of timber with many holes in it. My man Friday had many times said that we stood sadly in need of a square table for our afternoon tea, and I bethought me how this piece of wood might be used for that purpose. And since during the long time that Friday had now been with me I was not wanting to lay a foundation of useful knowledge in his mind, I told him that it was my wish to make the table from the timber I had found, without there being any holes in the top thereof.
"Friday was sadly put to it to say how this might be, more especially as I said it should consist of no more than two pieces joined together; but I taught him how it could be done in such a way that the table might be as large as was possible, though, to be sure, I was amused when he said, 'My nation do much better: they stop up holes, so pieces sugars not fall through.'"
Now, the illustration gives the exact proportion of the piece of wood with the positions of the fifteen holes. How did Robinson Crusoe make the largest possible square table-top in two pieces, so that it should not have any holes in it?
96 (#pgepubid00233).—The Fifteen Orchards
In the county of Devon, where the cider comes from, fifteen of the inhabitants of a village are imbued with an excellent spirit of friendly rivalry, and a few years ago they decided to settle by actual experiment a little difference of opinion as to the cultivation of apple trees. Some said they want plenty of light and air, while others stoutly maintained that they ought to be planted pretty closely, in order that they might get shade and protection from cold winds. So they agreed to plant a lot of young trees, a different number in each orchard, in order to compare results.
One man had a single tree in his field, another had two trees, another had three trees, another had four trees, another five, and so on, the last man having as many as fifteen trees in his little orchard. Last year a very curious result was found to have come about. Each of the fifteen individuals discovered that every tree in his own orchard bore exactly the same number of apples. But, what was stranger still, on comparing notes they found that the total gathered in every allotment was almost the same. In fact, if the man with eleven trees had given one apple to the man who had seven trees, and the man with fourteen trees had given three each to the men with nine and thirteen trees, they would all have had exactly the same.
Now, the puzzle is to discover how many apples each would have had (the same in every case) if that little distribution had been carried out. It is quite easy if you set to work in the right way.
97 (#pgepubid00234).—The Perplexed Plumber
When I paid a visit to Peckham recently I found everybody asking, "What has happened to Sam Solders, the plumber?" He seemed to be in a bad way, and his wife was seriously anxious about the state of his mind. As he had fitted up a hot-water apparatus for me some years ago which did not lead to an explosion for at least three months (and then only damaged the complexion of one of the cook's followers), I had considerable regard for him.
"There he is," said Mrs. Solders, when I called to inquire. "That's how he's been for three weeks. He hardly eats anything, and takes no rest, whilst his business is so neglected that I don't know what is going to happen to me and the five children. All day long—and night too—there he is, figuring and figuring, and tearing his hair like a mad thing. It's worrying me into an early grave."
I persuaded Mrs. Solders to explain matters to me. It seems that he had received an order from a customer to make two rectangular zinc cisterns, one with a top and the other without a top. Each was to hold exactly 1,000 cubic feet of water when filled to the brim. The price was to be a certain amount per cistern, including cost of labour. Now Mr. Solders is a thrifty man, so he naturally desired to make the two cisterns of such dimensions that the smallest possible quantity of metal should be required. This was the little question that was so worrying him.
Can my ingenious readers find the dimensions of the most economical cistern with a top, and also the exact proportions of such a cistern without a top, each to hold 1,000 cubic feet of water? By "economical" is meant the method that requires the smallest possible quantity of metal. No margin need be allowed for what ladies would call "turnings." I shall show how I helped Mr. Solders out of his dilemma. He says: "That little wrinkle you gave me would be useful to others in my trade."
98 (#pgepubid00235).—The Nelson Column
During a Nelson celebration I was standing in Trafalgar Square with a friend of puzzling proclivities. He had for some time been gazing at the column in an abstracted way, and seemed quite unconscious of the casual remarks that I addressed to him.
"What are you dreaming about?" I said at last.
"Two feet–" he murmured.
"Somebody's Trilbys?" I inquired.
"Five times round–"
"Two feet, five times round! What on earth are you saying?"
"Wait a minute," he said, beginning to figure something out on the back of an envelope. I now detected that he was in the throes of producing a new problem of some sort, for I well knew his methods of working at these things.
"Here you are!" he suddenly exclaimed. "That's it! A very interesting little puzzle. The height of the shaft of the Nelson column being 200 feet and its circumference 16 feet 8 inches, it is wreathed in a spiral garland which passes round it exactly five times. What is the length of the garland? It looks rather difficult, but is really remarkably easy."
He was right. The puzzle is quite easy if properly attacked. Of course the height and circumference are not correct, but chosen for the purposes of the puzzle. The artist has also intentionally drawn the cylindrical shaft of the column of equal circumference throughout. If it were tapering, the puzzle would be less easy.
99 (#pgepubid00236).—The Two Errand Boys
A country baker sent off his boy with a message to the butcher in the next village, and at the same time the butcher sent his boy to the baker. One ran faster than the other, and they were seen to pass at a spot 720 yards from the baker's shop. Each stopped ten minutes at his destination and then started on the return journey, when it was found that they passed each other at a spot 400 yards from the butcher's. How far apart are the two tradesmen's shops? Of course each boy went at a uniform pace throughout.
100 (#pgepubid00237).—On the Ramsgate Sands
Thirteen youngsters were seen dancing in a ring on the Ramsgate sands. Apparently they were playing "Round the Mulberry Bush." The puzzle is this. How many rings may they form without any child ever taking twice the hand of any other child—right hand or left? That is, no child may ever have a second time the same neighbour.