6 SEPTEMBER 1957, Page 9

Unexpected Dollars

By LESLIE READE Iis theoretically possible, I discovered; to buy 'copies of London Transport's posters; and it was in search of the series which includes the tale of 'old Noah's sturdy Ark packed with animals both old and gnu' that at 4.30 one afternoon recently I stood before a door in Petty France, Westminster, to which I had been directed. It was huge, hostile and shut.

I tentatively tried the handle and pushed the door. To my surprise it opened, and within I found 'a small office called 'Information.' This proved to be uninhabited, but exploration re- vealed a bell with the invitation, 'Please ring.' A representative of London .Transport appeared from an inner office with a cup of tea in her hand.

'Yes?' she said sternly.

I told her what I wanted, and she pointed to a wall on which hung a number of postcard-size reproductions, including, perhaps, copies of the posters I hoped to buy. I say 'perhaps' because by the ingenious placement of a massive chest and a long bench the wall had been so skilfully defended against potential customers that nobody could get nearer than six feet from the pictures.

I asked if I might make my choice from closer.

'If you don't know what you want,' snapped the lady, '1'm sure I don't!' and retired to her inner sanctum.

'Hey !' I cried, 'I want them to send . . . abroad. . . .' Second sight counselled me against mentioning America.

Dismissing the possibility of scaling the chest to get a closer view of the pictures from its sum- mit, I finally summoned enough moral courage to ring the bell again.

London Transport made another entrance. `Now, look here,' she said, 'I don't want any trouble from you. . • Squinting to see the numbers of some of the reproductions, I begged to see copies. 'It's nearly five o'clock,' she muttered sulkily. It was; and I had an appointment at' five. Eventually she flung down some half-dozen of the reproductions. They were fitted in attractive covers, made a beautiful contrast to the usual manifestations of quaintness sauced with snobbery 2 Which serve in America as advertisements for Britain, and were altogether admirable. I quickly made my choice and asked for envelopes. 'Envelopes!' she repeated in amazement, 'you can't have envelopes!' 'But,' I said, 'these will be ruined in the post without envelopes. I'll pay for them.'

My persistence succeeded only in eliciting an admission that a stationer in Victoria Street sold envelopes which would fit; but not who he was. 'How should I know the name? What do you think I am? You've made enough trouble here!'

As I made my way out through the large door — curiously labelled 'Publicity Department'—I still felt that London Transport were at least more enterprising than other large public bodies. But why spoil a good idea? Why not, among other improvements, offer those reproductions for sale — really offer them—and possibly bring a few un- expected dollars into the country's stock?