4 JUNE 1954, Page 7

Royal Borough

" Et puffs vOus prendrez," I said firmly into the telephone. " le train que part a onze heures vingt pour Reading."

"Pardon?" After long sojourns, first in Tibet and then in the Antarctic, the French explorer had arrived in London and was coining down to luncheon in the country. I repeated the instructions. " Vous voudrez Bien repeter le nom de ma destination?" suggested the Frenchman apologetically. Reading is not an easy word to pronounce in (so to speak) French; after trying it all ways and ringing no bell, I spelt it out. This worked like a charm.

" J'y suis !" cried the Frenchman, on a note of delighted recognition, "c'est Reading dont vous parlez, le Reading d'Oscar Wilde? "