End piece
Boys and girls
Jeffrey Bernard
Rumblings of trouble and unrest at boardroom level on Tiny Tots first became apparent last November when the rumour spread that Mother of the Chapel and girl's editor, Corinna Blyton, had been seen in tears in that well-known haunt of children's writers, the Cosy Tea Rooms in Fetter Lane. That Tiny Tots should provoke so much emotion is indeed odd when one reflects on its staid beginnings. Founded in 1820 by Captain Marryat, its first ,editor was the redoubtable Tom Brown. He revolutionised children's comics with the introduction of strip cartoons and collectors of first editions will set the sale-rooms buzzing whenever a copy of issue No 23 comes up for bidding. It was in this issue that Brown first introduced the fictional stalwart of Tiny Tots, Libido the Lovable Chimp. Albeit updated in outward appearance in so far as he has no keeper, Libido probably evokes more schoolboy laughter today than any other comic character with the possible exception of rival but ailing comic the Toddler's Salacious Sally.
It has been an open secret in Fleet Street since last November, when a television company first made overtures to the outgoing editor, Tony Tantrum, to compere their new intellectual chat show, Mammeron and-Buggeridge, that there would be at least six contenders champing at the bit for this prestigious post. At the outset of last month's tedious and lengthy interviews for a new editor, Ladbrokes went 6-4 Melvyn Bragg, 5-2 Marjorie Proops, 4-1 Beryl Bainbridge and 10-1 Richard West. The readers' choice for editor was Sherpa Tenking — allegedly a keen reader of the overseas edition of Tiny Tots himself — but only a smattering of bets were struck on him and he closed at 25-1. In 'View of the betting it is particularly surprising that the post should fall to a man not even mentioned in the market, Basil Leaf.
Perhaps it is better, though, to go back to those bleak November days when ripples of discontent first disturbed the calm of Tiny Tots. The development of the crisis is not without interest. Ever since 1972, when
Tiny Tots had reached a peak circulation of twenty-three under its Tory MP editor Paul Revere, there had been rumours of a drop in advertising. Furthermore, there had been painful scenes at editorial conferences and it was widely rumoured that one employee was regularly under the influence of Mars Bars. Several other members of the staff were reported to be spending more time than was seemly in the Cosy Tea Rooms and this was blamed for the Toddler's staggering increase in circulation to an all-time high of forty-two. Matters came to a head when Tantrum accepted the television offer and a new committee was formed consisting of Charles Osborne, Graham Greene, Lord Rothschild, Sandy Fawkes and the late Hunter Davies. The board, some said, car ried a curse.
Last week the guessing stopped. A grimfaced Basil Leaf was intercepted by reporters leaving the offices of Tiny Tots and he confirmed that he had accepted the committee's offer. 'I'm going to lift this bloody comic right out of the shit,' he told a stag gering UK Press Gazette representative.
'We're going to have Francis Bacon draw ing a strip that's going to be written by • Roald Dahl and it's an entirely new conception in children's entertainment. It's about a boy called Sebastian the Satyr. We've managed to capture some of those hilarious writers from the Guardian's Women's Page and I think we've got Margaret Drabble to work on the girl's section. She's very keen on a new cartoon character called Abortion Annie.'
Just who is this man Basil Leaf? His critics call him an abrasive, hard-hitting journalist, but fear that he may turn Tiny Tots into a cross between Dandy, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Little Women and the Wine Society Winter List. Born in Carshalton Beeches and expelled from school for a successful investigation into the headmaster's personal papers, he emigrated to the Isle of Wight where he became a successful leg-spin bowler. Returning to London at the age of twelve he became chief sub on the trade paper Public Works and Muckshifter's Digest and then moved to the Sunday Slumber where he gained a reputation as being ruthless with expenses after a now famous lunch for three at Lyon's Corner House. Some say he will turn Tiny Tots upside-down to increase circulation to fifty and a lot fear that heads will roll at the offices in Snowdrop Lane. Meanwhile, Cor inna Blyton has resigned to become confectionery correspondent of the Sun, Jim Fender is off to condense the Maudling Diaries for the Real Estate Gazette and • Ammiss is staying on for long enough to show Margaret Drabble his old ropes.
It is the end of an era. Handkerchiefs will be raised to the tear-stained eyes of forty seven schoolchildren this week, but I shall be surprised if they aren't laughing again soon at the antics of some of the old but revitalised characters such as Fantasy Fred, Oronway the Oedipal Elephant and Teddy the Terrible Tax Dodger.
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