Along with other children in the road, we enjoyed elections, partly because it meant a holiday from school as the building was needed for the voting, and also it became very exciting, as, although we didn’t really understand what it was all about, we had our favourite candidate, often chosen because we liked his colours, much as in the same way that we hoped a certain college crew would win the boat race. We had a song which we sang at election times, and which, I suppose, was meant to encourage our man, and which went thus—

“Vote, vote, vote for Billy Bingo, (candidate’s name)

When he comes knocking at your door,

And if Billy don’t get in

We will punch him on the chin,

And he won’t go voting any more.”

Strange as it may seem, for people who were not well endowed either with money or worldly goods, my parents always voted Conservative, as did most of the folks round about […]