Pedanticus was in a fine mood and things were going along trippingly. Then the word “heartwrenching” issued forth from his little DAB radio and he made a clutch for his heart. What had thrown a spanner into the works? Garabaggio’s Ladybug on an Igloo currently on display at the Rogue’s Gallery on Poppycock Terrace shows a dot on the arc of a semicircle. Why, a child could have produced it! To soothe my outrage at what passes for art in this corrupt world of ninnies I consoled myself with a huge slice of carrot cake from the café and the thought that it could at least be turned into a geometry puzzle. For Art’s loss has so often proved Geometry’s gain. I measured the lengths shown (the security is lax — who would bother to steal this stuff ?); so if P represents the ladybird and it started an hour ago at A and began to walk (uniformly as geometrical ladybirds do in puzzles) around the arc, when will we look to it to arrive at B? How high is the ladybird presently above the line AB? How far is it from A? And how far from B? Down at the Last Chance saloon Sheriff Einstein’s cuckoo clock is working. One bird (the black one) appears at intervals of exactly one hour, the other (the white one) appears at intervals of exactly every two hours, but each bird started at a random time independently of the other. Gullible Gus walks into the saloon. What are the chances the first bird that pops out of the clock will be the black one?