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In those same days the aged Ps could rely on me being dried out at school (well until mid teens anyway. A faulty latch allowed ingress and egress and it was tacitly agreed which bars were for boys and which for staff. Also the little earner of babysitting might be accompanied by a small sherry).
Scrambled egg on toast is no punishment - except when taken ambitiously on one new year's morning - four finger spread decorated the stairwell. Just about got it cleared up before Ma caught me. Such episodes thankfully were and remain few and far between. But telling. As when discovering my waste paper bin was not 'weatherproof'.
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David V
Lord Finchley tried to mend the electric light
Himself. It struck him dead and serve him right
It is the duty of the wealthy man
To give employment to the artisan
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