Quadrivial Quandary:  Logophiles, Rejoice!  Each day we give you four unusual words.  Can you fit them all in one illustrative sentence?

Attempts to resolve the Quandary:


Sergeant Tom Mix of the US Army called Bernie Cohen, sitting in the Comms Van parked just a couple of streets away, using the Walkie-Talkies, to tell him what Corporal Freddie Fassenfelt had discovered in the Grotto of the third Children's Home; Bernie ran to the nearest phone box, inserted coins and dialled the number he had for Inspector Alex Ferguson, although the Home in Milngavie was outside his direct responsibility: "dial 999 and call an ambulance, Ah'll ring my pal DCI Jock Stein in Milngavie Cop Shop, ye'll hae back-up within 15 minutes, oh, an Ah'll ca' the Fire Brigade, they'll bring cutters for the chains, but dinny you or yer Yank chums interfere wi ony possible evidence; it's no in ma jurisdiction but it's all pert of the case we're building on AKA so Ah've got guid reason to be there – oh, aye, by the bye, Jock awready kens aboot the case, I telt him ower drinks a few weeks ago, see ye in hauf an 'oor!" and Bernie did as he was told, explaining when he got through to the Ambulance Depot that a group of children were chained in a Grotto in the back garden of the house in Milngavie and it seemed that, even before he hung up, he could hear sirens and the clanging Fire Brigade bell tearing towards the scene; he ran round and arrived just as the Firemen were climbing out of their Engine and followed them up the garden path to where the two American soldiers squatted, talking to unseen people in the Grotto; the Senior Fire Officer squeezed between them, took a look and then ordered the smallest of his men to crawl in with the bolt-cutters, just as a couple of Ambulance-men appeared with a stretcher and an armful of blankets, and each child, on emerging unsteadily from the Grotto, was quickly wrapped in a blanket and taken to the Ambulance; it was just as Bernie was helping one of them down the path that a police siren squealed to a halt and two uniformed PCs, both tall, sandy-haired Heilanmen, and a sallow, thin man in plain-clothes, climbed out: "ye'r Bernie Cohen, no?" he asked, and Bernie immediately felt guilty, but the man introduced himself as Detective Inspector Jock Stein and held out his hand to shake Bernie's: "ah ken the Christmas Festive Greetings micht no be appropriate fer you, so Shalom Aleichem, ah hope av sed it richt, an dinny fret, am urny Sherlock Holmes, Ah've seen ye in Coort an a nevver forget a face," and a relieved Bernie shook the detective's cold hand; "hoo mony kids ur thur in ther?" and Bernie told him: "seven so far as Tom and Freddie saw, but there's a tunnel behind the cave so who knows if there's more further in," and as they walked up the path, with the two ambulance men coming down with the last child, DI Stein asked Bernie quietly, "whaur's the fowk fae the Hoose?" and Bernie told him that the two House Parents and the five residents children had left about forty minutes earlier for Church Parade, and weren't expected back for another half hour or so, and the cover story that the two Soldiers were knocking on doors trying to find anyone who knew this area before the houses were built, because they believed they were descendants of local people named MacAdoo or MacAloon who worked on the farms before emigrating to America; they had heard cries from the rear garden and had gone to investigate; but Stein pointed at the walkie-talkie Bernie still had in his hand: "div ye aye carry yin o thae when yer oot furra walk?" and though slightly flustered, Bernie explained that the sergeant had given it to him while he was away at the phone box, so he could tell them what was happening: "ok, Mr Cohen, that's as guid a spiel as ony, stick tae it an am sure yer Yankee pals will confirm it; noo, aff the record, Alex has telt me aboot yer investigation into this guy ye ca' AKA fur obvious reasons – naebdy wants tae lettim ken he's under suspicion – but this cannae be aff the books noo: there's evidence o criminal activity, ye cannae keep weans chained in a gairden grotto in this day an age, that's nae kind o life fur a chiel tae live, Jeez! talk aboot cognate accusative! ma wife wis on the Red Cross Inspection o Auschwitz wi ye'r Ma, an the things they saw there, every time ah think o the horrors thae puir fowk were pit through jist fer bein different – Jews, Gypsies, Homosexuals, Cripples, fowks wha's minds wurny richt, or jist had different politics fae the Nazis – we've fought a six-year war tae stoap this kinda thing, am no pleased tae ken whit's been gaun oan oan ma ain Patch, richt unner ma nose and am goanie investigate this hale Guid Shepherds Society an the five hooses here, which minds me, tak me roon the ithers, wha kens, there micht be mair o thae Grottos, but ah sure as fuck hope no!"

(by MissTeriWoman)


Throughout this festive week
I've slept a troubled sleep
Which cognative accusative
Is enough to make one weep;
For pantomimes I've played
Were all of crackjaws made
The spiel I had deal with
Little comedy displayed.
(by OldRawgabbit)
The Quandary for Saturday, December 30, 2017 consisted of: Challenge: use all four words together in one illustrative sentence.

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