2 FEBRUARY 1968, Page 16

The name game

WES MAGEE

We talked casually about P. G. Wodehouse saying that Jeeves, like Winter,, had come round Again, and then played a ploy Where everyone had to list Beckett's plays in a droll way, Punning his spudgy titles.

On the tennis lawn a bird Stopped: the gale fluting its tail. `Black-backed gull!' someone said, As another took a book, Informed us of the facts of Its life. The bird bent off into The wind, and even that's Like Ted Hughes, it was remarked. We watched, achingly secure In our fixed smiles, the easy chairs, Waiting for snow, or Proust to Be remembered by some wag, Knowing that knowing the name Is the main part of the game.