They're here. They've arrived. For good or bad, the eye catching, dazzling black and red jeans are here. It was a great day in the lives of all Hamclap men, when they were treated to a sight of them. Two gaunt figures with legs tightly clad strode down H Road. Young children stared, mothers gasped, men rubbed their eyes and three old women fainted.

After the initial shock the gossip began, "How dare they go out like that?" "Perfectly indecent", "Tut, Tut ", or just the self-explanatory "Cor, mate". Our intrepid heroes, not content with setting Hamclap on fire, ventured forth to the outside of the world, T****** Track, to be exact, which meant a tube journey. At Hamclap station the typical negro ticket collector just stared, scratched his head, and murmured, " Man dey sure are the greatest ".

After an uneventful journey they arrived at T****** and from thence to the track. T****** , home of all South London athletes who are anybody at all in athletics, and also the home of the club comedians (any resemblance to anybody living or dead, from the neck up or otherwise, is purely intentional). "Wait for it" thought our heroes, they'll see them in a minute; and, by my Aunt Nellie's running spikes, they did! "Come up in your track suits, eh?" "You've still got your pyjamas on". "Howdy, pardner", and various other comments sallied forth from all directions.

Well, that was the first outing of the dreaded black and red striped jeans. There would be a second outing, but the last seen of our heroes was when the T****** Track Keeper discovered them, after all athletes had departed, frantically trying to heave their 12in. bottom turn-ups over size 10 shoes.

On Wednesday, somewhere near the midsummer day, I was requested to be at the church hall to welcome Seniors who were having an ideal test in observation and disguises. Who knows? I might be needed in case the police took a hand. The main object of the exercise was to go along Hamclap Road from the Oval to The Swan. That is for those who were not in the know. Time of the operation being between the blissful hours of evening 8 to 9.

I was waiting for the persons when I saw a fine gentleman of colour wheel a pedal cycle on to the site. Some curious eyes came from the ladies' working or talking party in the Parish Room. But when the coloured gentleman came from under the trees I soon spotted the smile on his face. I thought his general appearance was a good reflection on his observation on those coloured gentlemen who have taken up abode in B******. The socks were the right gaudy colour, as was his tie which was flapping in the breeze, the coloured comic paper in the pocket and his crowning glory, the small trilby perched on his now black hair. The cycle was a trifle small and his riding it gave additional colour by the knees sticking out as he rode. He told me the worst part was his ride down B****** Road into C****** Road and every traffic light was against him. He had a slight shock when leaving, the Oval and a real gentleman of colour dressed rather similar and riding his pedal cycle appeared to want to talk to him, but he confessed his language was a bad disguise so quite naturally he did not use it.

I waited some time, when a man of rather unclean habits, came amongst us, looking for cigarette ends and spitting as middle-aged-spread. His cap and coat had apparently seen better days, and he was carrying the usual brown paper bag. (It had his own clothes therein.)* Now this Senior all over the place. His stomach was slightly what is known Scout left home very smart and decided to spend a penny and upon leaving this subterranean establishment the attendant was so surprised that he was lost of his common vocabulary. His entry to the site was not missed by the "eyes" in the Parish Room. He later went into the Parish Room with Wiffles in an attempt to get the price of a bed, but the ladies were getting worried so a cap was removed and they were made at ease.

The next two to arrive were the detectives, with their binoculars, and the ladies' "eyes" were still watching. Then the last two with their dog, which was quite a stranger to us. They were dressed as the usual type of night dog walkers that go about at that hour of the evening — you know, when the pubs are open. To sum up, quite an interesting experiment most successfully carried out with dare and cunning especially when the " tramp " took half an hour or so to do the walk, and I am pleased to add that I was not required to give an interview with the local police.

A Scouter in a letter to Skip wrote, " Can you examine this boy in your convenience?"  Skip could have done, but used the front room instead; it was much warmer, but that is another story.

STAN. N. ALLEN.