I can't remember its name. I don't think it has one. But this one looked different, older, yellower, and with a banner headline involving Aneurin Bevin. I picked up a fragment of a piece of a Daily Express dated April 2, 1952. And there was a skip nearby.
Old habits die hard.
Richer we may be, and gone are the days when the contents of a skip would furnish your entire north London squat with Turkish carpets, Louis XV escritoires, button-backed leather armchairs, chandeliers and pine tables, but I still can't pass a skip without casting half an eye over it. At this point you need to know that my wife was born on April 1st 1952, which disclosure, within the context of this despatch, will not I hope embarrass her. So I haven't seen her since she turned 49, and nor have I found her a birthday present. I need look no further. I hope she likes it.