Westminster corridors

The famous Gratian, in his little Book wherein he, lays down Maxims for Man's advancing himself, advises his Reader to associate himself — with the Fortunate and to shun the Company of the Unfortunate; which, notwithstanding the Baseness of the Precept to an Honest Mind, may have something useful in it for those who push their Interest in the World.

Thus it has not gone unnoticed at the Club of late that Mr Cyril Smith, the gargantuan Whig from Rochdale, has less and less time for the Company of the other Whigs but sports himself with the so-called liberal members of the Ruffian Party.

Apart from enjoying his creature comforts (whoever they may be) Mr Smith is also the Whig spokesman on Employment, In fact he likes to be known as Mr Foot's "shadow" (the Dainty Foot is Secretary for Employment, you see) though this is not particularly flattering for the Man from Ebbw Vale who has been assured by his PPS, one Mr Peter Pan, that he has no shadow.

It is not without interest, therefore, that Mr Smith's directive (he is chairman oi a company whimsically known as Smith's Springs Ltd, which has to do — no wait for it — with the manufacture of bed springs and the like) to his management should be noted.

-Any member of our workforce," states the

directive, "who joins a union is to be dismissed forthwith." Blunt, you might say, and to the point. Effective, I can tell you, and rigidly observed. With a degree of statesmanship that I, for one, find remarkable and hitherto had in no way suspected, Mr Smith has found a formula for avoiding confrontation with the unions.

Let us suppose that the unwavering belief of the Whigs in February 1974 that they would win the Election had been more than a dream. Even now, the lovable rogue from Rochdale would be taking his tripe and onions in St James's Square. Would he be intimidated by Messrs Jones and Scanlon and Murray? Of course not. He would simply have issued a directive and the musical soirees at Number Ten would be peopled by more civilised folk.

Such as Mr Alf Bates, the hirsute young Ruffian from Bebington. Mr Bates (no, I shall call him -Alf" because he likes it) is a new Member of the Club. Apart from his very long hair (which makes the Duchess of Falkender jealous as it is all his own) he wears a natty line in suitings and hose. He also shows a keen interest in student affairs, having once been one and latterly a lecturer in mathematics.

His keenness is remarkable. So anxious is he to spend as much time as possible at the Club, safeguarding the interests of his Constituents, that he has had something known as a "camp bed" installed in his office in Abbey Gardens.

My friend, Midshipman Robin Court, RN (retired, very suddenly) tells me that Alf has also asked the Chief Whip, the understanding Mr Bob -We Were All Young Once" Mellish, for ,certain fixtures and fittings for Abbey Gardens.

Curtains were a priority. Alf has a phobia about people spying on him and also, as he works late on Fridays, the bright lights from the Street disturbed his concentration. He then demanded a lock for the door. It is a surprise to me that doors do not automatically have locks. Think of the private papers our Members leave on their desks when they rush to the . . . divisions.

Let us hope that other Members of the Club will follow Alfs example. Midshipman Court says that some have already — but I do not believe all that the lad tells me.

A greater regard to duty among the inhabitants of the Club (regardless of Party) would be no bad thing. The younger, newer Members seem mainly at fault in this. Only the other day, during a most important vote when a three-line whip was imposed, 1 discovered young Mr Jonathan Aitken, the East Thanet Tory, driving aimlessly around the Park in his green Jaguar carriage. He was disguised as an Australian journalist and was wearing a long, auburn whig.

When I hailed him and enquired how he was, he said "Fain" in those unmistakable accents of the Outback. Close inspection revealed that the driver of the carriage was not Mr Aitken at all, but an Australian journalist who looks like him.

My apologies to both, the more so as the lady reporter in question was even at that moment 'supposed to be in Australia for her newspaper.! only hope the said journal managed to "get it off Reuters".

Tom Puzzle