How Does Informer Crossword Clue Appear In Cryptic Puzzles?

I get a kick out of spotting the little synonyms for 'informer' that pop up across British newspapers' cryptic pages. When I'm doing the weekend cryptic in a coffee shop, the clue 'informer' will usually be the straight definition part of a clue and the solver's brain immediately starts listing suspects: 'grass', 'rat', 'nark', 'fink', 'stoolie' and occasionally longer entries like 'supergrass'. Those feel very British in tone, and you'll see them across the usual broadsheets and mid-market papers with cryptic grids. Technically, 'informer' is most common in cryptic crosswords rather than quick definitions or themed variety puzzles. Setters rely on that simple one-word definition because it pairs well with all sorts of wordplay — hidden words, charades and containers. For example, a setter might hide a synonym inside a phrase, or put together letter chunks that look innocent on the surface. I love that mix of slang and craft: you learn both language color and setter tricks at once. It makes finding 'grass' or 'rat' feel like catching a tiny cultural wink from the puzzle-maker, and I always grin when I spot them.

I love the little tricks setters use, and 'tithe' is one of those words that lends itself to several neat cryptic devices. Often it's clued literally as the definition — something like 'Church payment (5)' simply yields TITHE, with the definition at either end of the clue. But setters also get playful: a common trick is to treat 'tithe' as meaning 'one tenth' and clue related forms like 'tenth', 'decile' or even historically linked words (think of how 'decimate' originally meant taking a tenth). Those kinds of thematic substitutions happen when the surface wants a churchy feel but the setter wants a fresher answer. Wordplay-wise, I especially like the charade and hidden plays. You can build TITHE from smaller parts — for example 'tit' (a small bird) + 'he' (male pronoun) gives TITHE, so a clue like 'Small bird seen to be male, church payment (5)' parses cleanly. Alternatively, TITHE can be concealed across word boundaries: the phrase 'beat it, he' literally contains the letters T-I-T-H-E in order. Keep an eye out for Roman numeral/ten wordplay too — X or TEN can be used in cryptic builds that hint at a tenth. Personally, spotting a hidden TITHE in a long surface always gives me a small victory; it feels like catching a wink from the setter.

That tiny clue 'informer' is one of those little traps that makes me grin and groan at the same time. My default fill for short crosswords is usually 'rat'—three letters, blunt, and used so often it's almost crossword shorthand. If the grid wants four letters, I lean toward 'fink' or 'tatt' (if it's playful), and for longer slots 'snitch' (6), 'informant' (8), or 'stoolie' (7) often fit. If the puzzle's from the UK, don't forget 'grass' or 'nark'—British setters love those. For cryptic puzzles the setter might be more sly: 'sings' could be clued by 'informer' (as in 'to sing' = to inform), so verb forms can appear rather than nouns. Crosses are king. A lot of solvers panic at the clue but once a couple of crossing letters are in, the right fill jumps out. I like how this clue showcases regional vocabulary and setter style; it keeps every puzzle fresh and a little cheeky.

I get a kick out of how a single word like 'layer' can wear so many hats in a cryptic clue. Sometimes it's the straight definition — someone or something that lays, so you might see 'layer' cluing a 'hen' (because hens are egg-layers) or even 'roofer' in a more playful clue. Other times it's a synonym: 'stratum', 'tier', 'coating' or 'skin' might be the surface reading, and you parse the rest of the clue to build that word. Beyond the direct definition, 'layer' often appears as raw material for wordplay. It can be fodder for an anagram (with an indicator like 'shuffled' — e.g., 'layer' -> 'relay' or 'early'), it can be split into a charade (LAY + ER), or it can sit hidden inside a surface phrase (beLAYEr hides 'layer'). I love scanning clues for which role it's playing — is the setter teasing the definition, or are they using 'layer' to hide letters or trigger an anagram? That little ambiguity is part of the fun, and it keeps me grinning when the lightbulb clicks.

On my daily puzzle habit, I’ve noticed that setters love short, punchy synonyms for 'informer' because they fit tidy grids and are easy to clue. The three-letter classic is 'rat' — brutal, compact and utterly crossword-friendly. For four letters you'll often see 'narc' or 'fink'; both carry slightly different flavors (one cops-on-drugs, the other squeals generally), and clue writers exploit that nuance. When the grid allows six or seven letters, 'snitch' and 'squealer' pop up; they're more conversational and let setters play with surface readings. Across different outlets there's regional variety: British puzzles like 'grass' or 'stoolie' more than US papers, and cryptic setters might use 'mole' for an undercover informer. I always scan crossings for a vowel pattern first — a lot of these synonyms have very predictable letter shapes — and that little trick saves me from getting tangled by lookalike options. It’s oddly satisfying to see how a single clue can lead to 'rat', 'narc', 'fink' or 'snitch' depending on tone and enumeration — it keeps me hooked and smiling at the setter’s cheeky choices.

Whenever I sit down with a cryptic puzzle I always spot how playful setters treat ordinary phrases like 'ball of yarn'. In cryptic clues there are two halves: a straight definition (which could be literal, like 'ball of yarn' meaning something knittable) and a wordplay section that builds or hints at the same letters in a different way. So you might see 'ball of yarn' clued directly by a synonym such as SKEIN or WOOl (depending on length and enumeration), or the setter might be cheeky and use 'yarn' as 'tale' — giving you a nudge toward words like TALE, STORY or LIE. But setters love to twist meanings. 'Ball' can be a dance, a sphere, or even a good time; 'yarn' can be wool or a tall tale. That opens up several cryptic devices: double definition (both halves are legitimate definitions), cryptic definition (&lit, where the whole clue both defines and plays), container indicators (one word put inside another), hidden words (consecutive letters inside the clue), homophones (sounds like), and anagrams. For instance, a clue might use 'spin a yarn' as wordplay to indicate SPIN -> yarn creation, or hide a literal answer across words in the surface. I like watching solvers’ eyes light up when they realize 'ball of yarn' could be either material (SKEIN) or metaphorical (YARN = TALE). Learning the typical indicator words — 'around', 'back', 'sounds like', 'hidden in' — makes these switches obvious. It’s a small delight every time a deceptively simple phrase turns into an elegant bit of wordplay; that little click is why I keep doing Sunday cryptics on the train home.

Bright thought: if the crossword wants a six-letter word for an informer, my go-to is 'SNITCH'. I like this one because it's common in both American and casual British puzzles and fits a straightforward 6-letter slot. If the pattern you have has known letters, try to line them up with S-N-I-T-C-H. For example, ?N?T?H would pretty much lock it in as 'SNITCH'. That said, crosswords can be cheeky with register. If the clue feels more slangy or prison-themed, 'CANARY' can pop up (prison slang for someone who sings to the authorities). If the clue leans formal, though, the puzzle might avoid slang and use a different construction. I usually check intersecting letters and whether the clue is jokey or literal — that normally confirms it for me. Feels satisfying when the crosses click into place, and 'SNITCH' often provides that snap.

I get a kick out of cryptic clues that mean 'communicate' because they're so flexible — the surface can be about gossip, but the mechanics are pure wordplay. My go-to approach is to split the clue into definition and wordplay first: the definition will almost always sit at one end of the clue, so circle the first and last few words and ask which could mean 'communicate' (words like 'relay', 'relate', 'impart', 'tell', 'air' pop up a lot). Then scan the rest for indicators — 'about', 'again', 'partly', 'scrambled', 'heard' — they tell you what type of trick is being used. Next I test plausible constructions. For example, 'Again slow to communicate (6)' parses nicely as RE (again) + LATE (slow) = RELATE, which means 'communicate'. Another neat device is the hidden indicator: in a clue like 'Claim partly to communicate (6)', 'partly' signals a hidden answer inside 'claIM PARTly' which gives IMPART. Anagrams and homophones show up too: 'Layer scrambled to communicate (5)' -> RELAY (anagram of LAYER). I always jot down crossing letters from the grid if possible; that often narrows multiple synonyms to a single fit. Finally, practice pattern recognition. After a dozen clues you start spotting favorite indicators and usual synonym lengths. Keep a short list of common cryptic verbs for 'communicate' and their typical entrances: 'impart' (hidden), 'relay' (anagram or charade), 'relate' (re+late), 'tell' (charade or homophone variants), 'air' (broadcast). It feels satisfying when the wordplay locks up and the definition just clicks, and I always smile when a clever surface hides a tidy parse.

I get a kick out of spotting 'Scottish cap' in cryptic clues because it's one of those neat little Britishisms setters love. Often the straightforward solution is 'TAM' — three letters, simple definition: cap = tam (a short form of 'tam-o'-shanter'). You’ll see it clued plainly as "Scottish cap (3)" or embedded in a longer surface like "He wears a Scottish cap on Burns Night (3)" and the definition points directly at TAM. Beyond the blunt definition, setters enjoy playing with 'Tam o' Shanter' as a longer entry. That can appear as the full phrase — usually clued either as a hat or as the Robert Burns poem: a double definition like "Poem and Scottish headgear (3,1,8)" or an &lit where the whole clue describes both the poem and the cap. Keep an eye out for variant spellings: TAM O' SHANTER, TAM O SHANTER (no apostrophe), or simply TAM; British crosswords especially may drop punctuation. I like how this range lets you go from a quick grab to a bit of literary nod in the same grid — it's cozy and clever, just my speed.

I love how crossword constructors sneak little slices of street slang into puzzles, and 'stoolie' is a perfect example of that playful vocabulary. At its simplest, 'stoolie' is just a colloquial, slightly cheeky synonym for an informer or snitch, and that makes it a handy fill when a puzzle needs a seven-letter person who rats someone out. Constructors like words that feel vivid and a touch old-school, and 'stoolie' has that smoky, noir flavor that lifts a dry grid. The backstory helps, too. The term comes from 'stool pigeon' — originally a decoy bird tied to a stool to lure other birds — and it evolved into meaning someone who lures the law to criminals or rats them out. Over time people shortened and softened it to 'stoolie,' which is exactly the kind of slang that crosses from crime novels and newspaper prose into crossword cluing. You'll see it clued directly as 'informer' or more colorfully as 'rat on the crew' in themed puzzles. For me, spotting 'stoolie' in a puzzle feels like a wink from the maker. It’s colloquial, evocative, and fits neatly when you need that specific shade of meaning — plus it sneaks in a little history and attitude, which I always appreciate.