In the corner of a field is seen a milkmaid milking a cow, and on the other side of the field is the dairy where the extract has to be deposited. But it has been noticed that the young woman always goes down to the river with her pail before returning to the dairy. Here the suspicious reader will perhaps ask why she pays these visits to the river. I can only reply that it is no business of ours. The alleged milk is entirely for local consumption.
"Where are you going to, my pretty maid?"
"Down to the river, sir," she said.
"I'll not choose your dairy, my pretty maid."
"Nobody axed you, sir," she said.
If one had any curiosity in the matter, such an independent spirit would entirely disarm one. So we will pass from the point of commercial morality to the subject of the puzzle.
Draw a line from the milking-stool down to the river and thence to the door of the dairy, which shall indicate the shortest possible route for the milkmaid. That is all. It is quite easy to indicate the exact spot on the bank of the river to which she should direct her steps if she wants as short a walk as possible. Can you find that spot?
A stonemason was engaged the other day in cutting out a round ball for the purpose of some architectural decoration, when a smart schoolboy came upon the scene.
"Look here," said the mason, "you seem to be a sharp youngster, can you tell me this? If I placed this ball on the level ground, how many other balls of the same size could I lay around it (also on the ground) so that every ball should touch this one?"
The boy at once gave the correct answer, and then put this little question to the mason:—
"If the surface of that ball contained just as many square feet as its volume contained cubic feet, what would be the length of its diameter?"
The stonemason could not give an answer. Could you have replied correctly to the mason's and the boy's questions?
I was on a visit to one of the large towns of Yorkshire. While walking to the railway station on the day of my departure a man thrust a hand-bill upon me, and I took this into the railway carriage and read it at my leisure. It informed me that three Yorkshire neighbouring estates were to be offered for sale. Each estate was square in shape, and they joined one another at their corners, just as shown in the diagram. Estate A contains exactly 370 acres, B contains 116 acres, and C 74 acres.
Now, the little triangular bit of land enclosed by the three square estates was not offered for sale, and, for no reason in particular, I became curious as to the area of that piece. How many acres did it contain?
I will now present another land problem. The demonstration of the answer that I shall give will, I think, be found both interesting and easy of comprehension.
Farmer Wurzel owned the three square fields shown in the annexed plan, containing respectively 18, 20, and 26 acres. In order to get a ring-fence round his property he bought the four intervening triangular fields. The puzzle is to discover what was then the whole area of his estate.
Here is an easy geometrical puzzle. The crescent is formed by two circles, and C is the centre of the larger circle. The width of the crescent between B and D is 9 inches, and between E and F 5 inches. What are the diameters of the two circles?
There was a small lake, around which four poor men built their cottages. Four rich men afterwards built their mansions, as shown in the illustration, and they wished to have the lake to themselves, so they instructed a builder to put up the shortest possible wall that would exclude the cottagers, but give themselves free access to the lake. How was the wall to be built?
It is a curious fact that the answers always given to some of the best-known puzzles that appear in every little book of fireside recreations that has been published for the last fifty or a hundred years are either quite unsatisfactory or clearly wrong. Yet nobody ever seems to detect their faults. Here is an example:—A farmer had a pen made of fifty hurdles, capable of holding a hundred sheep only. Supposing he wanted to make it sufficiently large to hold double that number, how many additional hurdles must he have?
A speculative country builder has a circular field, on which he has erected four cottages, as shown in the illustration. The field is surrounded by a brick wall, and the owner undertook to put up three other brick walls, so that the neighbours should not be overlooked by each other, but the four tenants insist that there shall be no favouritism, and that each shall have exactly the same length of wall space for his wall fruit trees. The puzzle is to show how the three walls may be built so that each tenant shall have the same area of ground, and precisely the same length of wall.
Of course, each garden must be entirely enclosed by its walls, and it must be possible to prove that each garden has exactly the same length of wall. If the puzzle is properly solved no figures are necessary.
Lady Belinda is an enthusiastic gardener. In the illustration she is depicted in the act of worrying out a pleasant little problem which I will relate. One of her gardens is oblong in shape, enclosed by a high holly hedge, and she is turning it into a rosary for the cultivation of some of her choicest roses. She wants to devote exactly half of the area of the garden to the flowers, in one large bed, and the other half to be a path going all round it of equal breadth throughout. Such a garden is shown in the diagram at the foot of the picture. How is she to mark out the garden under these simple conditions? She has only a tape, the length of the garden, to do it with, and, as the holly hedge is so thick and dense, she must make all her measurements inside. Lady Belinda did not know the exact dimensions of the garden, and, as it was not necessary for her to know, I also give no dimensions. It is quite a simple task no matter what the size or proportions of the garden may be. Yet how many lady gardeners would know just how to proceed? The tape may be quite plain—that is, it need not be a graduated measure.
Here is a little problem that everybody should know how to solve. The goat is placed in a half-acre meadow, that is in shape an equilateral triangle. It is tethered to a post at one corner of the field. What should be the length of the tether (to the nearest inch) in order that the goat shall be able to eat just half the grass in the field? It is assumed that the goat can feed to the end of the tether.
It is curious how an added condition or restriction will sometimes convert an absurdly easy puzzle into an interesting and perhaps difficult one. I remember buying in the street many years ago a little mechanical puzzle that had a tremendous sale at the time. It consisted of a medal with holes in it, and the puzzle was to work a ring with a gap in it from hole to hole until it was finally detached. As I was walking along the street I very soon acquired the trick of taking off the ring with one hand while holding the puzzle in my pocket. A friend to whom I showed the little feat set about accomplishing it himself, and when I met him some days afterwards he exhibited his proficiency in the art. But he was a little taken aback when I then took the puzzle from him and, while simply holding the medal between the finger and thumb of one hand, by a series of little shakes and jerks caused the ring, without my even touching it, to fall off upon the floor. The following little poser will probably prove a rather tough nut for a great many readers, simply on account of the restricted conditions:—
Show how to find exactly the middle of any straight line by means of the compasses only. You are not allowed to use any ruler, pencil, or other article—only the compasses; and no trick or dodge, such as folding the paper, will be permitted. You must simply use the compasses in the ordinary legitimate way.
I have eight sticks, four of them being exactly half the length of the others. I lay every one of these on the table, so that they enclose three squares, all of the same size. How do I do it? There must be no loose ends hanging over.
Here is a puzzle by Pappus, who lived at Alexandria about the end of the third century. It is the fifth proposition in the eighth book of his Mathematical Collections. I give it in the form that I presented it some years ago under the title "Papa's Puzzle," just to see how many readers would discover that it was by Pappus himself. "The little maid's papa has taken two different-sized rectangular pieces of cardboard, and has clipped off a triangular piece from one of them, so that when it is suspended by a thread from the point A it hangs with the long side perfectly horizontal, as shown in the illustration. He has perplexed the child by asking her to find the point A on the other card, so as to produce a similar result when cut and suspended by a thread." Of course, the point must not be found by trial clippings. A curious and pretty point is involved in this setting of the puzzle. Can the reader discover it?
While accompanying my friend Professor Highflite during a scientific kite-flying competition on the South Downs of Sussex I was led into a little calculation that ought to interest my readers. The Professor was paying out the wire to which his kite was attached from a winch on which it had been rolled into a perfectly spherical form. This ball of wire was just two feet in diameter, and the wire had a diameter of one-hundredth of an inch. What was the length of the wire?
Now, a simple little question like this that everybody can perfectly understand will puzzle many people to answer in any way. Let us see whether, without going into any profound mathematical calculations, we can get the answer roughly—say, within a mile of what is correct! We will assume that when the wire is all wound up the ball is perfectly solid throughout, and that no allowance has to be made for the axle that passes through it. With that simplification, I wonder how many readers can state within even a mile of the correct answer the length of that wire.
Our friend in the illustration has a large sheet of zinc, measuring (before cutting) eight feet by three feet, and he has cut out square pieces (all of the same size) from the four corners and now proposes to fold up the sides, solder the edges, and make a cistern. But the point that puzzles him is this: Has he cut out those square pieces of the correct size in order that the cistern may hold the greatest possible quantity of water? You see, if you cut them very small you get a very shallow cistern; if you cut them large you get a tall and slender one. It is all a question of finding a way of cutting put these four square pieces exactly the right size. How are we to avoid making them too small or too large?
I have a wooden cone, as shown in Fig. 1. How am I to cut out of it the greatest possible cylinder? It will be seen that I can cut out one that is long and slender, like Fig. 2, or short and thick, like Fig. 3. But neither is the largest possible. A child could tell you where to cut, if he knew the rule. Can you find this simple rule?
There are some curious facts concerning the movements of wheels that are apt to perplex the novice. For example: when a railway train is travelling from London to Crewe certain parts of the train at any given moment are actually moving from Crewe towards London. Can you indicate those parts? It seems absurd that parts of the same train can at any time travel in opposite directions, but such is the case.
In the accompanying illustration we have two wheels. The lower one is supposed to be fixed and the upper one running round it in the direction of the arrows. Now, how many times does the upper wheel turn on its own axis in making a complete revolution of the other wheel? Do not be in a hurry with your answer, or you are almost certain to be wrong. Experiment with two pennies on the table and the correct answer will surprise you, when you succeed in seeing it.
In the illustration eighteen matches are shown arranged so that they enclose two spaces, one just twice as large as the other. Can you rearrange them (1) so as to enclose two four-sided spaces, one exactly three times as large as the other, and (2) so as to enclose two five-sided spaces, one exactly three times as large as the other? All the eighteen matches must be fairly used in each case; the two spaces must be quite detached, and there must be no loose ends or duplicated matches.
Here is a new little puzzle with matches. It will be seen in the illustration that thirteen matches, representing a farmer's hurdles, have been so placed that they enclose six sheep-pens all of the same size. Now, one of these hurdles was stolen, and the farmer wanted still to enclose six pens of equal size with the remaining twelve. How was he to do it? All the twelve matches must be fairly used, and there must be no duplicated matches or loose ends.
POINTS AND LINES PROBLEMS.
"Line upon line, line upon line; here a little and there a little."—Isa. xxviii. 10.
What are known as "Points and Lines" puzzles are found very interesting by many people. The most familiar example, here given, to plant nine trees so that they shall form ten straight rows with three trees in every row, is attributed to Sir Isaac Newton, but the earliest collection of such puzzles is, I believe, in a rare little book that I possess—published in 1821—Rational Amusement for Winter Evenings, by John Jackson. The author gives ten examples of "Trees planted in Rows."
These tree-planting puzzles have always been a matter of great perplexity. They are real "puzzles," in the truest sense of the word, because nobody has yet succeeded in finding a direct and certain way of solving them. They demand the exercise of sagacity, ingenuity, and patience, and what we call "luck" is also sometimes of service. Perhaps some day a genius will discover the key to the whole mystery. Remember that the trees must be regarded as mere points, for if we were allowed to make our trees big enough we might easily "fudge" our diagrams and get in a few extra straight rows that were more apparent than real.
206.—THE KING AND THE CASTLES.
There was once, in ancient times, a powerful king, who had eccentric ideas on the subject of military architecture. He held that there was great strength and economy in symmetrical forms, and always cited the example of the bees, who construct their combs in perfect hexagonal cells, to prove that he had nature to support him. He resolved to build ten new castles in his country all to be connected by fortified walls, which should form five lines with four castles in every line. The royal architect presented his preliminary plan in the form I have shown. But the monarch pointed out that every castle could be approached from the outside, and commanded that the plan should be so modified that as many castles as possible should be free from attack from the outside, and could only be reached by crossing the fortified walls. The architect replied that he thought it impossible so to arrange them that even one castle, which the king proposed to use as a royal residence, could be so protected, but his majesty soon enlightened him by pointing out how it might be done. How would you have built the ten castles and fortifications so as best to fulfil the king's requirements? Remember that they must form five straight lines with four castles in every line.
The illustration is a plan of a cottage as it stands surrounded by an orchard of fifty-five trees. Ten of these trees are cherries, ten are plums, and the remainder apples. The cherries are so planted as to form five straight lines, with four cherry trees in every line. The plum trees are also planted so as to form five straight lines with four plum trees in every line. The puzzle is to show which are the ten cherry trees and which are the ten plums. In order that the cherries and plums should have the most favourable aspect, as few as possible (under the conditions) are planted on the north and east sides of the orchard. Of course in picking out a group of ten trees (cherry or plum, as the case may be) you ignore all intervening trees. That is to say, four trees may be in a straight line irrespective of other trees (or the house) being in between. After the last puzzle this will be quite easy.
A man had a square plantation of forty-nine trees, but, as will be seen by the omissions in the illustration, four trees were blown down and removed. He now wants to cut down all the remainder except ten trees, which are to be so left that they shall form five straight rows with four trees in every row. Which are the ten trees that he must leave?
A gentleman wished to plant twenty-one trees in his park so that they should form twelve straight rows with five trees in every row. Could you have supplied him with a pretty symmetrical arrangement that would satisfy these conditions?
Place ten pennies on a large sheet of paper or cardboard, as shown in the diagram, five on each edge. Now remove four of the coins, without disturbing the others, and replace them on the paper so that the ten shall form five straight lines with four coins in every line. This in itself is not difficult, but you should try to discover in how many different ways the puzzle may be solved, assuming that in every case the two rows at starting are exactly the same.
It will be seen in our illustration how twelve mince-pies may be placed on the table so as to form six straight rows with four pies in every row. The puzzle is to remove only four of them to new positions so that there shall be seven straight rows with four in every row. Which four would you remove, and where would you replace them?
A short time ago I received an interesting communication from the British chaplain at Meiktila, Upper Burma, in which my correspondent informed me that he had found some amusement on board ship on his way out in trying to solve this little poser.
If he has a plantation of forty-nine trees, planted in the form of a square as shown in the accompanying illustration, he wishes to know how he may cut down twenty-seven of the trees so that the twenty-two left standing shall form as many rows as possible with four trees in every row.
Of course there may not be more than four trees in any row.
This puzzle is on the lines of the Afridi problem published by me in Tit-Bits some years ago.
On an open level tract of country a party of Russian infantry, no two of whom were stationed at the same spot, were suddenly surprised by thirty-two Turks, who opened fire on the Russians from all directions. Each of the Turks simultaneously fired a bullet, and each bullet passed immediately over the heads of three Russian soldiers. As each of these bullets when fired killed a different man, the puzzle is to discover what is the smallest possible number of soldiers of which the Russian party could have consisted and what were the casualties on each side.
MOVING COUNTER PROBLEMS.
"I cannot do't without counters."
Winter's Tale, iv. 3.
Puzzles of this class, except so far as they occur in connection with actual games, such as chess, seem to be a comparatively modern introduction. Mathematicians in recent times, notably Vandermonde and Reiss, have devoted some attention to them, but they do not appear to have been considered by the old writers. So far as games with counters are concerned, perhaps the most ancient and widely known in old times is "Nine Men's Morris" (known also, as I shall show, under a great many other names), unless the simpler game, distinctly mentioned in the works of Ovid (No. 110, "Ovid's Game," in The Canterbury Puzzles), from which "Noughts and Crosses" seems to be derived, is still more ancient.
In France the game is called Marelle, in Poland Siegen Wulf Myll (She-goat Wolf Mill, or Fight), in Germany and Austria it is called Muhle (the Mill), in Iceland it goes by the name of Mylla, while the Bogas (or native bargees) of South America are said to play it, and on the Amazon it is called Trique, and held to be of Indian origin. In our own country it has different names in different districts, such as Meg Merrylegs, Peg Meryll, Nine Peg o'Merryal, Nine-Pin Miracle, Merry Peg, and Merry Hole. Shakespeare refers to it in "Midsummer Night's Dream" (Act ii., scene 1):—
"The nine-men's morris is filled up with mud;
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green,
For lack of tread, are undistinguishable."
It was played by the shepherds with stones in holes cut in the turf. John Clare, the peasant poet of Northamptonshire, in "The Shepherd Boy" (1835) says:—"Oft we track his haunts .... By nine-peg-morris nicked upon the green." It is also mentioned by Drayton in his "Polyolbion."
It was found on an old Roman tile discovered during the excavations at Silchester, and cut upon the steps of the Acropolis at Athens. When visiting the Christiania Museum a few years ago I was shown the great Viking ship that was discovered at Gokstad in 1880. On the oak planks forming the deck of the vessel were found boles and lines marking out the game, the holes being made to receive pegs. While inspecting the ancient oak furniture in the Rijks Museum at Amsterdam I became interested in an old catechumen's settle, and was surprised to find the game diagram cut in the centre of the seat—quite conveniently for surreptitious play. It has been discovered cut in the choir stalls of several of our English cathedrals. In the early eighties it was found scratched upon a stone built into a wall (probably about the date 1200), during the restoration of Hargrave church in Northamptonshire. This stone is now in the Northampton Museum. A similar stone has since been found at Sempringham, Lincolnshire. It is to be seen on an ancient tombstone in the Isle of Man, and painted on old Dutch tiles. And in 1901 a stone was dug out of a gravel pit near Oswestry bearing an undoubted diagram of the game.
The game has been played with different rules at different periods and places. I give a copy of the board. Sometimes the diagonal lines are omitted, but this evidently was not intended to affect the play: it simply meant that the angles alone were thought sufficient to indicate the points. This is how Strutt, in Sports and Pastimes, describes the game, and it agrees with the way I played it as a boy:—"Two persons, having each of them nine pieces, or men, lay them down alternately, one by one, upon the spots; and the business of either party is to prevent his antagonist from placing three of his pieces so as to form a row of three, without the intervention of an opponent piece. If a row be formed, he that made it is at liberty to take up one of his competitor's pieces from any part he thinks most to his advantage; excepting he has made a row, which must not be touched if he have another piece upon the board that is not a component part of that row. When all the pieces are laid down, they are played backwards and forwards, in any direction that the lines run, but only can move from one spot to another (next to it) at one time. He that takes off all his antagonist's pieces is the conqueror."
The six educated frogs in the illustration are trained to reverse their order, so that their numbers shall read 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, with the blank square in its present position. They can jump to the next square (if vacant) or leap over one frog to the next square beyond (if vacant), just as we move in the game of draughts, and can go backwards or forwards at pleasure. Can you show how they perform their feat in the fewest possible moves? It is quite easy, so when you have done it add a seventh frog to the right and try again. Then add more frogs until you are able to give the shortest solution for any number. For it can always be done, with that single vacant square, no matter how many frogs there are.
It has been suggested that this puzzle was a great favourite among the young apprentices of the City of London in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Readers will have noticed the curious brass grasshopper on the Royal Exchange. This long-lived creature escaped the fires of 1666 and 1838. The grasshopper, after his kind, was the crest of Sir Thomas Gresham, merchant grocer, who died in 1579, and from this cause it has been used as a sign by grocers in general. Unfortunately for the legend as to its origin, the puzzle was only produced by myself so late as the year 1900. On twelve of the thirteen black discs are placed numbered counters or grasshoppers. The puzzle is to reverse their order, so that they shall read, 1, 2, 3, 4, etc., in the opposite direction, with the vacant disc left in the same position as at present. Move one at a time in any order, either to the adjoining vacant disc or by jumping over one grasshopper, like the moves in draughts. The moves or leaps may be made in either direction that is at any time possible. What are the fewest possible moves in which it can be done?
Our six educated frogs have learnt a new and pretty feat. When placed on glass tumblers, as shown in the illustration, they change sides so that the three black ones are to the left and the white frogs to the right, with the unoccupied tumbler at the opposite end—No. 7. They can jump to the next tumbler (if unoccupied), or over one, or two, frogs to an unoccupied tumbler. The jumps can be made in either direction, and a frog may jump over his own or the opposite colour, or both colours. Four suecessive specimen jumps will make everything quite plain: 4 to 1, 5 to 4, 3 to 5, 6 to 3. Can you show how they do it in ten jumps?
In the illustration we have eleven discs in a circle. On five of the discs we place white counters with black letters—as shown—and on five other discs the black counters with white letters. The bottom disc is left vacant. Starting thus, it is required to get the counters into order so that they spell the word "Twickenham" in a clockwise direction, leaving the vacant disc in the original position. The black counters move in the direction that a clock-hand revolves, and the white counters go the opposite way. A counter may jump over one of the opposite colour if the vacant disc is next beyond. Thus, if your first move is with K, then C can jump over K. If then K moves towards E, you may next jump W over C, and so on. The puzzle may be solved in twenty-six moves. Remember a counter cannot jump over one of its own colour.
218.—THE VICTORIA CROSS PUZZLE.
The puzzle-maker is peculiarly a "snapper-up of unconsidered trifles," and his productions are often built up with the slenderest materials. Trivialities that might entirely escape the observation of others, or, if they were observed, would be regarded as of no possible moment, often supply the man who is in quest of posers with a pretty theme or an idea that he thinks possesses some "basal value."
When seated opposite to a lady in a railway carriage at the time of Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee, my attention was attracted to a brooch that she was wearing. It was in the form of a Maltese or Victoria Cross, and bore the letters of the word VICTORIA. The number and arrangement of the letters immediately gave me the suggestion for the puzzle which I now present.
The diagram, it will be seen, is composed of nine divisions. The puzzle is to place eight counters, bearing the letters of the word VICTORIA, exactly in the manner shown, and then slide one letter at a time from black to white and white to black alternately, until the word reads round in the same direction, only with the initial letter V on one of the black arms of the cross. At no time may two letters be in the same division. It is required to find the shortest method.
Leaping moves are, of course, not permitted. The first move must obviously be made with A, I, T, or R. Supposing you move T to the centre, the next counter played will be O or C, since I or R cannot be moved. There is something a little remarkable in the solution of this puzzle which I will explain.
Here is a little reminiscence of our old friend the Fifteen Block Puzzle. Eight wooden blocks are lettered, and are placed in a box, as shown in the illustration. It will be seen that you can only move one block at a time to the place vacant for the time being, as no block may be lifted out of the box. The puzzle is to shift them about until you get them in the order—
A B C
D E F
G H
This you will find by no means difficult if you are allowed as many moves as you like. But the puzzle is to do it in the fewest possible moves. I will not say what this smallest number of moves is, because the reader may like to discover it for himself. In writing down your moves you will find it necessary to record no more than the letters in the order that they are shifted. Thus, your first five moves might be C, H, G, E, F; and this notation can have no possible ambiguity. In practice you only need eight counters and a simple diagram on a sheet of paper.
220.—A LODGING-HOUSE DIFFICULTY.
The Dobsons secured apartments at Slocomb-on-Sea. There were six rooms on the same floor, all communicating, as shown in the diagram. The rooms they took were numbers 4, 5, and 6, all facing the sea. But a little difficulty arose. Mr. Dobson insisted that the piano and the bookcase should change rooms. This was wily, for the Dobsons were not musical, but they wanted to prevent any one else playing the instrument. Now, the rooms were very small and the pieces of furniture indicated were very big, so that no two of these articles could be got into any room at the same time. How was the exchange to be made with the least possible labour? Suppose, for example, you first move the wardrobe into No. 2; then you can move the bookcase to No. 5 and the piano to No. 6, and so on. It is a fascinating puzzle, but the landlady had reasons for not appreciating it. Try to solve her difficulty in the fewest possible removals with counters on a sheet of paper.
The diagram represents the engine-yard of a railway company under eccentric management. The engines are allowed to be stationary only at the nine points indicated, one of which is at present vacant. It is required to move the engines, one at a time, from point to point, in seventeen moves, so that their numbers shall be in numerical order round the circle, with the central point left vacant. But one of the engines has had its fire drawn, and therefore cannot move. How is the thing to be done? And which engine remains stationary throughout?
Make a diagram, on a large sheet of paper, like the illustration, and have three counters marked A, three marked B, and three marked C. It will be seen that at the intersection of lines there are nine stopping-places, and a tenth stopping-place is attached to the outer circle like the tail of a Q. Place the three counters or engines marked A, the three marked B, and the three marked C at the places indicated. The puzzle is to move the engines, one at a time, along the lines, from stopping-place to stopping-place, until you succeed in getting an A, a B, and a C on each circle, and also A, B, and C on each straight line. You are required to do this in as few moves as possible. How many moves do you need?
The plan represents a portion of the line of the London, Clodville, and Mudford Railway Company. It is a single line with a loop. There is only room for eight wagons, or seven wagons and an engine, between B and C on either the left line or the right line of the loop. It happened that two goods trains (each consisting of an engine and sixteen wagons) got into the position shown in the illustration. It looked like a hopeless deadlock, and each engine-driver wanted the other to go back to the next station and take off nine wagons. But an ingenious stoker undertook to pass the trains and send them on their respective journeys with their engines properly in front. He also contrived to reverse the engines the fewest times possible. Could you have performed the feat? And how many times would you require to reverse the engines? A "reversal" means a change of direction, backward or forward. No rope-shunting, fly-shunting, or other trick is allowed. All the work must be done legitimately by the two engines. It is a simple but interesting puzzle if attempted with counters.