AMBIANCE
Mr. Wilson wore a single-breasted charcoal suit, no waistcoat; he wore a ring on his third finger left hand, and silver-grey hair.
Mr. Heath wore a three-piece single-breasted dark blue suit, purple tie and four inches of pro- truding cuff with the sort of links that the laundry puts in after service. Both men were exceed- ingly neatly turned out so that points go to Mr. Heath—of whom there was more. -
Mr. Heath made his first joke after nineteen minutes. Mr. Wilson his first joke after eleven minutes. Neither joke was particularly amusing. Both were appreciated. Mr. Wilson had a very few hecklers, so mild that one suspected they were planted. Mr. Heath had an audience of such unbelievable gentility that one suspected they were all paid up, churchgoing Conservatives. Unless you count coughing there was not a single interruption at the Conservative meeting.
At each mention of success at the polls the 3.500 Scots in Glasgow cheered loudly; when the chairman of the Plymouth Conservatives said that after Mr. Heath's speech he was more confident than ever of victory, one small voice in the gallery said 'hear hear.'
After each party leader sat down, Labour definitely gained an edge. They brought forth Mr. " Ross and Mr. Shinwell with two rousing half-hour speeches of considerable quality. At Plymouth Mr. Heath left nine minutes for the other speakers before his advertised departure. We had a note of well-bred optimism from the local candidate; three minutes from Dame Joan Vickers, a halo of purple hat cover- ing a stiff upper lip, and a minute and a half from a Cornish candidate. Finally, an abortive attempt to sing Tor he's a jolly good fellow,' which died somewhere between 'all' and 'of us.' -
Previous page
