26 AUGUST 1978, Page 4

Notebook

Well before his death this week, Jomo Kenyatta appeared to be losing his grip. A year ago an influential white farmer, who was a friend of his, decided to leave Kenya where he had been living for some 20 years. He faced the usual problem about how to get his money out of the country. During his farewell call on the President, he raised this delicate question. Kenyatta obliged by writing out a presidential order on presidential writing paper authorising the transfer of the man's money to London. But when this impressive document was placed before an official of the Bank of Kenya, it proved to be worthless. The President's signature carried no weight. The only way the farmer could eventually get any of his money out of the country was by paying a bribe.

As the feverish preparations for the election of the Pope approach their climax, the Vatican has been making the usual muddle of its relations with the press. There are, of course, hundreds of journalists in Rome at the moment with very little to write about. This explains the hysteria which set in when the Vatican announced that only six representatives of the world's press would be allowed to go on an inspection of the Sistine Chapel and the rest of the Conclave area before the start of the election this Friday, although in previous elections there has been no such restriction. Shaken by the ferocity of the abuse emanating from the excitable Italian press corps, the Sacred College wavered and decided to allow in ten journalists instead. These were to be chosen by their fellow hacks -a process of selection likely to be more lengthy, complex and acrimonious than the election of the Pope himself. The Chamberlain of the Holy Roman Church, Cardinal Jean Villot, who is temporarily in charge until a Pope is elected, has now received a telegram from two distinguished representatives of the international press, Alain Woodrow of Le Monde and Peter Nichols of The Times. It reads as follows: DOLORE ET STUPORE PENITUS AFFLICTI OB DECISIONEM ARBITRARIAM LIMITANDI POSSIBILITATEM UT MEMBRI COMMUNICATIONIS SOCIALIS MUNDIALIS VIDEANT AULAM AC AmBrrum CONCLAVIS. VALDE TIMEMUS INFELICEM AMISSIONEM BONAE VOLUNTATIS PERIODISTARUM NECNON ADAEQUATI INFORMATIONIS SERVITII PRO PUBLICA OPINIONE MUNDIALI.'

Ladbroke's, the bookmakers, stopped accepting bets on the identity of the next Pope about a week before the opening of the Conclave. The reason, they tell me, was 'the sensitivity of some members of the public on the question.' But betting on papal elections was expressly forbidden by Pope Pius IV on 9 October, 1562, in a document entitled 'In Eligendis'. He declared that offenders would be subject to 'governmental sanctions'. The sanctions were not specified, but perhaps in the case of Ladbroke's a fine would be sufficient.

Of the huge amount of information that is inflicted on one during one's lifetime, very little is at all memorable. Those nuggets which stick in the mind tend to be of a trivial, even obvious nature, but are those which turn out to be of practical use in dealing with life's little problems. I remember being repeatedly saved from punishment at my public school after somebody told me that if you burn your fagmaster's toast, you should scrape it upside down so that the burnt crumbs do not fall back on to the bread. In this way, the offence can, with luck, be concealed. In a similar category is the advice that lighting a match in a lavatory will normally eliminate any unpleasant smell you may have been responsible for. Another tip which I have always treasured but alas have not yet been able to put to any use is that if a nun approaches you and asks for charity, you should first of all look at her feet. If she is wearing high heels or football boots or has painted toe-nails, you know you are faced with an impostor. The nuns who were so unpleasantly molested by Tottenham Hotspur supporters on a train from London to Nottingham last Saturday were, of course, not in this category. But the only other recorded incident of public nun-molesting in Britain might have been avoided if this little precaution had been taken immediately. This was at a Festival of Light meeting in London some years ago at

Spectator 26 August 1918 which, before the eyes of Mary Whitehouse and a horrified audience, six 'nuns' were forcibly ejected from the hall. They were in fact all men in nuns' habits.

Sunning himself at his Sussex farm, Mr Cal. laghan is no doubt finally making up his mind when he will call the election 'A decision on election-timing is a lonely one', Sir Harold Wilson has said. 'Whatever the consultations, it is one man's decision and if things go wrong, he is as likely to be criticised for missing a favourable tide as for plunging in too early'. But why should the decision be taken by the Prime alone? And why as Sir Harold imPlies,must this responsibility be conceived Pure'Y in terms of party advantage? As to the first question, the idea that the timing of an elec. lion is exclusively up to the Prime Minister is a relatively new one, even if Pe°Ple nowadays assume it to be some hoW enshrined in our unwritten constitution. Before the First World War, the Cabin. et was invariably consulted on the Minister with the sole exception of Balfour' in 1905, taken in the teeth of Cabille` opposition. In fact it is Balfour who seerli,s to have invented the rule. As to the second question, it is inevitable, if the timing is 3 matter for the Prime Minister, that PartY advantage will be the main considerat0; In no other major democratic country does a politician enjoy such a privilege. sq see: The hatred of foreigners winch is the °Lail; feature of London at this time of year u'b, not seem to extend to the cunninglY trusive Dutch. According to the Sun" In Times, 920,000 Dutchmen came to Lout last year. This is approximately one wci teenth of the entire population of and, indeed, about one seventh of the ufa't mal population of London. The fact Wre twice as many Dutchmen as Arabs a wprhoibabnlyeehdes exposing. moment is a dire'. ch There are long queues outside Madanle Tussaud's waxworks exhibition this month. The money rolls in, as it does every stuurner' despite the fact that so many of the wa works are almost unrecognisable. The Mad has drawn attention to this state 0. affairs by publishing photographs of scve rat(j) Tussaud models and inviting readers Princess guess who they represent. Those of Anne, Mark Phillips and Marily even Monroe are particularly ludicrous, bearing riot .ects the smallest resemblance to their subl: But included in the Mail's gallery of unlricilf otinfieabolfeocuerlelbe aridtiiensg icips oainitexicaenlslen , winch th, otniikelless°e sculptor deserves to be congratulated. should it have been included? The afls.wer must surely be that the Mail, like this WO: cannot resist the temptation during tills viler month to make any reference i , howceiviv r rrelevant, to the presence among us °` Jeremy Thorpe.

Alexander Chancelicir