COMPETITION I n Competition No. 1576 you were in- vited to

write a Sun leader on a) the voluntary resignation of the Monarchy; b) the abolition of cricket matches due to crowd hooliganism; or c) the replacement of our policemen's helmets by standard Euro headgear.

The Sun is low, to say the least, Although it is well-read.

But since it rises in the yeast It should be better bred.

Gelett Burgess's lines, aimed at an earlier, American newspaper, still apply. This competition, the brain-child of our revered editor, brought out the best in you. Peter Norman (`Give us back our caring cop- pers!'), D. Shepherd ('the new hat stands for garlic-eating interference'), D. A. Prince (`Brussels, you're barmy!), John M. Brown ('is it any wonder that the man in the stand, Joe Public, wants a bite of the cherry too?'), R. J. Pickles ('we want these animals bowled out and caged'), R. S. Byram (`Betty Windsor doesn't have quite the same ring, does it?') and M. R. Macintyre (`did you know it costs the nation £10 billion every time the Queen goes horse-riding in Windsor Great Park?') were all vastly amusing. But the prizewin-

Solar gas

J aspistos ners (£18 apiece) are those printed below and the bonus bottle of Rioja 1973 Gran Zaco Reserva, presented by Becket Drake Ferrier Moseley, 57-59 Neal St, London WC2, goes to Katie Mallett.

EURO-CAPPED!

Blimey, cop this! EEC chiefs have put the lid on the British bobby, and capped the force.

It's OUT with the traditional pointed helmet, symbol of police authority ever since the Bow Street Runners threw in their top hats, and IN with the EURO-CAP, a flat-topped brain- squasher, as modelled by page-three lovely, Donna, in Hyde Park yesterday. Of commenting passers-by, THIRTY PER CENT said they couldn't see the point, FORTY PER CENT said they thought the EEC had made another boob, and SIXTY PER CENT said they hadn't noticed the hat.

WHAT DO YOU THINK? Should our police allow themselves to be topped by this undigni- fied SOCIALIST skull-number?

Will the Euro-pillbox give enough cover for streakers? Would your granny be happy to ask the time from a policeman dressed like this?

Send your views to COP THAT CAP. (See, the Sun has got its hat on Page Three.) (Katie Mallett) What in the name of Good Queen Bess has got into our Royals?

First we had Charlei the Balding (motto: Gone Fishing) still trying to find himself at forty. We had Diana the Unready and Fergie the Unsteady taking a rise out of the finest constabulary in the world. We even had Edward the What-a-Mess- er, chucking up the best career a man could want to become a Really Useless tea-boy.

Thank God, we said, for the Queen and the Duke.

Not any more, though.

It seems they've decided to cash in their chips, presumably to lounge around, the casinos of Europe with their third cousins once-and-for-all- removed from sundry Ruritanian thrones.. Which doesn't look to us like a fair day's work for a fair day's pay. With the deepest possible respect, the Sun says: COME OFF IT, YOUR MAJESTY!

(Noel Petty)

You can't please everyone, can you? The toffee-nosed gits at Lord's are whingeing ne: cause the Government has finally confiscate° their toy.

Some toy! Just look at the figures. Iwo deaths and 150 arrests at Headingley. £7 million pounds worth of damage after a late declaration at Trent Bridge. Countryside court jams as the bovver boys line Up to take their punishment. Let's face it, it's time to draw stumps. And the British public knows it.

Only the public-school poofs chucking down their pink gins with their heads in the sand think we can go on with this senseless slaughter. The Sun says: Well done, Maggie!

(Basil Ransome-Davies)

The Queen has resigned. The Royal Family are going with her to live in retirement in Russia.

Well, you've earned a rest, Your Majesty! Since Boadicea — and before that — the Royals have spent their lives looking after this country. But all good things come to an end. And you couldn't have chosen a better retirement home.

After all, the Revolution's over now. Time for a return to sanity there. The Russkies will take you to their hearts. And who know's, Charles might be elected Tsar some day. Why not?

flats off to Mikhail Gorbachev, who pulled off the diplomatic coup of all time.

We shall miss you, Ma'am. And the faMily. The new President won't fill the gap you leave. And Buck House will never be the same as a hotel.

There'll always be a welcome for you back here.