Television

Nationwide

Jeffrey Bernard

'Good evening. Did you know that over 100,000 people in Britain go to bed wearing their vests? Or did you know that if you dip a peacock's tail into a saucer of custard it will leave a trail of custard all over your croquet lawn? No? Well, all that plus the woman who makes a bedtime drink by

infusing her wig and also the burning question of just how many free turnips a farm labourer is entitled to on top of his wages. All that later in Nationwide. Also, we'll be talking to the bank clerk who skis to work, and watching George Knopf, a wine waiter from Huddersfield, put the finishing touches to his chocolate model of the Titanic. But first, your own news in your own region. As many of you will have now realised, James Callaghan is the new Prime Minister. He's already moved into Number Ten, a tremendous job by any standards, but just what does moving into Number Ten involve? Well, we've asked Robert McKenzie to the studio tonight to tell us a bit about it. Bob ?'

'Good evening, Michael. Thank you. Hallo. Well, this is a fascinating business. As soon as Jim Callaghan became Premier, one thing became crystal clear and that was that he was going to move into Number Ten. Now at this precise moment we don't know quite whether Mr Wilson left the keys with an agent, whether he left them under the mat or whether—and this is the really interesting bit—or whether he'd previously given Callaghan a duplicate set before he announced his retirement. Now there are two things we can be certain of. One is that Mr Callaghan, whatever time of night or day he chooses to come home at, will have to go through the front door. The other thing we can be almost a 100 per cent sure of is that Mr Wilson did not give a set of keys to Mr Jenkins. Now, if you come over here to this wall chart you'll see that the only other way into Number Ten is through the tradesmen's entrance in an entirely different street. At the moment, it's anyone's guess as to whether or not Mr Callaghan will choose to use it, but if the tendency's anything like it was during Ramsey MacDonald's Government when there was a slight swing to back doors, then I think we're going to see a lot of Mr Callaghan at the back door.'

'Thank you, Bob. Now, Dilys. I believe you've got something for us?' 'Yes, Michael. There probably aren't many of you who've ever heard of Mocktoncum-Rushmere and to even more of you it's probably no more than a name on a map. But to sixty-eight villagers it's home and it's a home they're preparing to fight for—down to the last pike and long-bow. You see, Mockton-cum-Rushmere isn't just any village. It's a village that has been engaged in a legal battle with the House of Lords for the past 473 years. That may seem like a long time to you, but to the villagers of Mockton-cum-Rushmere, the battle is only just starting. You see, since Simon de Montfort stopped there for refreshment on his way to Canterbury and took a liking to the place, the people of Mockton have celebrated the fact on the third Saturday in every April. Now, the Council want to step in and call a halt to what some of Mockton's oldest residents are angrily calling their heritage. I spoke to George Smith, the local thatcher about the trouble facing Mockton-cum-Rushmere.

'Mr Smith, do you intend to fight this council decision?'

'Arrrrh. Thankeeee. Cheers. Oi say they can go to buggery.'

'Well, that was Mr Smith.'

'Thank you, Dilys. Nice to see some people holding out for what they think is right and proper. Right. Now, let's go straight over to Jimmy Hill who's got some sports news for us. Jimmy ? Oh. No Jimmy. He doesn't seem to be quite ready for us yet. We'll go back to him later. Meanwhile, I wonder how many of you keep a dog and actually do the barking yourselves ? Well, one man who does is Mr Fred Cromwell of Yardley who's waiting for us in our Birmingham studio now. Ever since Mr Cromwell's pet colly, Shep, was run over by a milk float two years ago, Mr Cromwell has been doing the barking for Shep. You see, Shep can't bark. His vocal chords were severed in the accident and Mr Cromwell has a theory that without his bark, Shep would quickly develop a sense of inferiority. Are you there, Mr Cromwell ?'

'Yes, I can hear you.'

'Good. I wonder if you'd be good enough to bark for us Mr Cromwell.'

'Certainly. Woof, woof.'

'Thank you, Mr Cromwell.'

'Well, there's one man who shouldn't have much trouble with burglars. Sounded quite like the real thing, didn't it ? And talking of burglars our next guest tonight is a man who has just written a book about catching burglars. Sam Rogers. Tell me Sam, what made you decide to write this book? I've just read it and I must say I found it very entertaining. Why did you write it ?'

'Well, I ...

'That's fascinating. Thank you. Now over to Paddington Station where Bob Wellings is waiting for us.'

'Hallo, Michael. Well, I wonder how many of you realise that since Brunel built this station, no less than two million trains running between Reading Central and here have been early ? Now, back to Michael.'

'Thanks Bob. Who said we British couldn't do something properly ? Right. Well, that's all we've got time for tonight. Tomorrow we'll be bringing you the story about the Street of Shame in Chalfont St Peters, I'll be talking to the woman who catches and tins her own sardines, Valerie Singleton will be showing us how to make egg cosies out of old plastic milk bottles and Robert McKenzie will be in the studio talking to the men who think they can make anarchy work in Ascot. Till then, goodnight.

'Oh, and by the way. Now that our stop smoking campaign is into its second year, we wonder how many of you would like to join us in our new campaigns to stop swearing, to stop putting sugar in coffee, to stop eating bread, potatoes, eggs, meat and fish —all of which are really bad for you—and to stop using Zebra crossings on weekdays ? Join us tomorrow night. Nationwide.'