10th June 1965

DS: Here are details of some of this week's programmes on BBC radio-
BP: In Community Singing on Sunday, the Reverend Angus Smith will not be leading his congregation in singing "The Skye Boat Song".
HP: On Tuesday Mr Anthony Wedgwood Benn will be starring in the Westminster Amateur Dramatic Group production of "For Whom the Bell Tolls".
KW: And finally on Thursday you'll be able to hear Mr Peter Cadbury reading excerpts from his autobiography entitled Reminiscence of a Chocolate-covered Tycoon.
DS: But meanwhile for those of you who are more easily pleased, here's thirty minutes of mundane and tepid buffoonery as, for the last time in the present series, we take you Round The Horne.
ORCHESTRA: MUSIC
DS: The story so far; it was winter in the lumber camp, as camp lumber Betty "Frenchy" Marsden. He of the eyes like burning coals, and a nose like a faggot, strode into the bunkhouse and confronted the notorious camp foreman, Kenneth 'Vancouver Jack' Williams- "Where is she?" He rasped. "Who?" snarled Vancouver Jack. "You know who I mean", responded Frenchy, "I mean Eskimo Nell, played by Bill 'Blubberlips' Pertwee, coated in bear grease". Vancouver Jack snatched up his old saw, played by old sore Hugh Paddick, with a set of rusty teeth- "If I can't have her nobody shall", he cried, sobbed, wiped his eye and sang two choruses of 'My Yiddishe Mamma'. Meanwhile on top of a nearby mountain a lean grey menacing form silhouetted against the sky, raised its head to the moon and dismally howled-
KH: My name is Kenneth Horne.

ORCHESTRA: MUSIC

KH: That was Douglas Smith, photographic model of Old Compton Street. Now first of all the answers to last week's quiz- Complete the titles of the following songs- first, 'It's a Long Way to' -Well Mr. J.G. of Rotherhithe I sympathise with your plight, especially these cold mornings, but the answer was Tipperary. The next title, 'Over my Shoulder Goes'- Well we had some rather interesting if exaggerated claims- The answer nevertheless is 'Over My Shoulder Goes One Care'. And now, an even more sordid affair, the return of J. Peasmold Gruntfuttock, the celebrated walking slum. Mr Gruntfuttock-
KW: I have doffed that nomenclature. I have completely doffed it and took on a cognomen of a more pleasing and euphonious nature-
KH: You mean you've changed you're name?
KW: Yes, that puts it in a globule.
KH: What are you changing.
KW: Well I have toyed with several- Anthony Armstrong McHorseprivot, that's a good strong name- or Dennis Ptomaine Wilson- but I finally settled on one which duits my personality. I am henceforth to be known as Count Rory O'Thighblast. It's Irish. As befits my new calling, that of wandering bard, or as I am known- the Swan of Hoxton.
KH: I take it you have become a poet?
KW: Yes. This morning to be exact. An' I have composed an epic stanza to commemorate this being the last programme- I shall read it to you.
Oh grand and mighty Round The Horne
Full loud your fame is crowed
From John O'Groats, near the town of Wick
To the horsemeat shop in the Balls Pond Road
So here's a toast to you listeners bold
Who rejoice in our gladsome frolic
May ye long be spared from Athletes Foot
Not to mention the Colic.

ORCHESTRA: CHORD

KH: Thank you Count Rory O'Thighblast- nee Gruntfuttock.
DS: And now more compelling than Rag, Tag and Bobtail, more breathtaking in its savage grandeur than Come Dancing, more starkly unashamed in its scenes of searing animal passion that Woman's Hour, we present Kenneth Horne- Special Agent.

ORCHESTRA: MUSIC

KH: My name is Kenneth Horne- licensed to kill on one side of the road, on even dates. This story began in my luxuriously appointed pied a terre in Jermyn Street- I had just finished a case and I just sat there idly mending a terre in a pair of old pieds- when suddenly the phone rang-

F/X: PHONE, RECIEVER UP

Hello , Drusilla Beyfus here?
HP: Who do you think you're kidding Horne? You can drop the disguise. This is Brown- Horrocks, M15 I want you to get over here immediately- I'll be waiting for you, halfway down the next page disguised as a jam stain.

F/X: RECIEVER DOWN

KH: I leapt into my 2.4 Douglas Smith and pressed the starter-
DS: (STARTER NOT FUNCTIONING PROPERLY)
KH: I did a fast racing change, nosed him out into the traffic and roared off in the direction of Whitehall.
DS: (EXAGGERATED AND LENGTHY ROAR OF ENGINE)
KH: (BREAKING IN) All right Smith- don't make a meal of it. Your big end'll go.

F/X: KNOCK ON DOOR
F/X: DOOR OPENS

HP: Ah Horne!
KH: Ah Brown-Horrocks!
HP: Horne- disaster is staring us in the face!
KH: Yes I know. I've read the rest of this lousy sketch. Can't we just go into the song?
HP: No. We've got a responsibility to the nation. Someone's getting at the American rockets. Listen to this recording, Lyndon Johnson talking to an astronaut in space.
BP: (TEXAN) (ON DISTORT) Hi there, Colonel McPothandle out there in space. This is your president talking to you. Can you hear me son? We are all proud of what you're doing up there, always assuming that what you're doing up there is what we think you're doing up there.
KW: (TEXAN) Thank you Mr President. Sir- now I'm fixin to open a hatch in my lil ole space capsule and walk out into lil ole space- I'm just opening the hatch now- and I'm just gittin out now- wait a minute, there's someone walking through space towards me. He's got a yellow band round his space helmet.
HP: (COCKNEY) (COMING ON MIKE). I'm sorry sir- you can't park here- this is a meter zone.

F/X: CLICK OFF

KH: Good gracious- a parking meter attendant in outer space.
HP: Yes- its costing the American Government a fortune in fines. Their last rocket was towed away and they had to go and reclaim it from Kentish Town. There's hundreds of those chaps up there. We don't know who's behind them but we suspect-

GRAMS: QUIVERING DRAMATIC STRINGS

KH: Not Mantovani?
HP: No. Fiendish Japanese mastermind Dr Chou En Ginsberg. Go get him Horne.
KH: And with that the interview was over. He stared at me sternly- I stared at him sternly. Two could play at that game. Then he stood up and offered me a limp hand-
HP: Have a limp hand.
KH: No thanks. I've already got two. And with that I hailed a passing announcer and told him to get me there. Smith!
DS: Sir. Outside a certain house in Harley Street, some seconds later.
KH: Thank you. And take this for your trouble. Two teaspoonfuls after meals.
DS: Bless you kind sir, you're one of nature's idiots.
KH: With that, he shot off rapidly in the opposite direction.
DS: Later seconds some street Harley in house certain a outside.
KH: Don't build your part Smith. I went up he bell and rag the steps.

F/X: DOOR OPENS

BM: (SEXY) Come in- I am Charlotte, Doctor Chou En Ginsberg's receptionist.
KH: I'd like to see the Doctor.
BM: One moment-

F/X: Kiss

KH: Thank you. Do I get that under the National Health?
BM: I believe in giving the patients a warm reception.
KH: I eyed Charlotte speculatively, my glance travelled from head to foot, stopping at all stations. I pressed her against me roughly- roughly ten minutes it was. Her voice came in a husky question mark.
BM: (COMMON) Are you wearing a corset?
KH: No.. It's my shoulder holster.
BM: (SEXY) Take me- I'm yours.
KH: Oh really- oh- just one moment. Smith-
DS: Yes sir?
KH: Distract the audience's attention for a few minutes will you?
DS: My pleasure sir.
KH: No mine actually.
DS: As you say sir.
DS: Four weeks, two days later-
KH: Four weeks, two days? Why four weeks?
DS: Rehearsal sir. If a thing's worth doing.. Some time later, Special Agent Horne raced clumsily down the stairs to the fiendish Doctor's lair in the basement.

F/X: KNOCK ON DOOR

KW: Come in

F/X: DOOR OPENS

KW: Ah-Ah so- ahah- ahahaha- so- so ahaha- ah so- (OWN VOICE) I can't say this- it's muck! Those writers give me any old nonsense that comes into their heads. Ah so ah so- It's a disgrace.
KH: They're probably tired. It's the end of the series.
KW: get shot of 'em. Get someone decent for next year- can't you get that Frank Muir and Christine Norden. Or Gallstone and Simpkins or whatever they call themselves now. They'd service me properly.. I need to be serviced properly.. They could make me a child star- The brightest orb in the show biz firmament I could be. Nobody loves me- it's not fair- it's not just!
KH: Are you all right now?
KW: Yes I've got it out now. I'm much better. (BACK INTO CHARACTER) Ah so so aha so- so ahaha- Oh I can't- Look let's skip all this and get straight to the tag. So Horne- You have cornered me at last, but I still have one trick up my sleeve- you see this phial of noxious bubbling liquid- I'm about to drink it- and you will see what you will see.
KH: And as I watched he drained the glass and then slowly and inexorably he changed- before my uncomprehending eyes, into a striped blazer and straw hat. Then quickly blacking up his face he leapt onto the table and..
KW: (SINGING AND TAP DANCING) Swanee, how I love you, how I love you my dear old Swanee- the folks up North will see me no more when I get to that Swanee shore.
KH: And with that he leapt onto the back of a passing George Mitchell, joined the Black and White Minstrels and was never seen alive again- So at least, for the time being we've heard the last of-
KW: Dr Chou En Ginsberg, M.A(Failed). Goodbye!

ORCHESTRA:CHORD

KH: And now here are the Fraser Hayes Four to sing you a track from their new L.P "The Charlie Katz Novelty Sextet" at the Newport Jazz Festival- The Fraser Hayes Four.

FRASER HAYES FOUR: THIS CAN'T BE LOVE

DS: And now, Trends.

ORCHESTRA: MUSIC

KH: This is the part of the show for the trendy. With-it pacesetters- The people who dig the Kinks, and consider themselves far-out. If you don't dig the Kinks and think they're a lot of pimply adolescent scruffs, then you're not far-out. However, first- Trends in pop music. In the studio we have the man who handles so many of these pop stars, Ossie Mutterbucket. Mr Mutterbucket, how do you go about discovering these groups?
BP: (BRUM) Well take my new group- the What.
KH: Surely you mean The Who?
BP: No my group are called The What. When you've seen 'em you'll understand why. They come on stage with their long matted, greasy hair hanging over their faces, scruffy, shapeless Army surplus clothes; then they leap about like demented tramps, shouting in a hoarse tuneless manner- Oh they bring the place down. 'Course I had to work on them. Change their image. Even changed their name.
KH: What were they called before?
BP: The Beverly Sisters.
KH: Thank you Ossie Mutterbucket. And now, still on the subject of pop music, we are hardly delighted to welcome once again that doyen of folk singers- Rambling Syd Rumpo.
KW: Well now me deary-o, a fusset a fusset and I'll doodle down me dilly-o.
KH: Well I'd rather you didn't. What are you going to sing us this week, Rambling Syd?
KW: I'm going to sing ee an 18th century courting song, which tells the story of a country lass who sings to her soldier sweetheart- Oh soldier soldier, when shall we be wed? For I'm tired of the single life and besides, the neighbours are starting to talk and I can't keep telling 'em you've come to read the gas meter. And he answers, Oh winsome maid, oh pretty maid, fain would I make thee my wife-o, but we cannot be wed for I have no boots to put on. So she goes and buys him a pair of fine boots, and then she sings- Ohsoldier, soldier, when shall we be wed? and he sings, Fain would I make thee my wife-o, but I have no trousis to put on. So she gets him a pair of fine trousis, and then she sings, Soldier, soldier, when shall we be wed? And he sings- Hang on a minute, I can't get these fine trousis on over my boots, and anyway, I cannot marry thee as I have no belt. So she gives him one and he goes, and as he runs off, he sings this stirring martial strain-

Fair thee well my apple-cheeked Betty-o,
Fair thee well, fare thee well,
For I'm off to fight my country foes
So dry your eyes and wipe your nose
Nose-o, nose-o
I'm off to be a dragoon-ooooooooooh!

KH: Thank you Rambling Syd Rumpo. And now, Trends in the Cinema. The nostalgia for the thirties continues and this week at the National Fil Theatre they're showing a revival of that great classic love story 'Forbidden Encounter', starring Celia Molestrangler and Binkie Huckaback. Here is an excerpt.

GRAMS: ROOM WITH A VIEW

HP: Oh Fiona! This heat. I cant's stand it any longer. This interminable heat is enough to drive a man out of his mind.
BM: Steady Charles- you're losing your grip.
HP: I can't stand it any longer! I can't! (SHOUTS) I can't!

F/X: FACE SLAP

HP: (SUDDENLY CALM) Thank you Fiona. I deserved that. Oh darling Fiona!
BM: Oh darling Charles,
HP: Oh darling darling Fiona
BM: Oh darling darling darling Charles!
HP: Holding you like this I feel something I don't quite understand.
BM: I don't quite understand it either. And yet, I sense it, somehow.
HP: I somehow sense it too.
BM: I'm glad you sense it. It makes it better- for both of us somehow- knowing.
HP: I know
BM: I know you know
HP: I know you know I know.
BM: Yes. I know. Oh Charles- what's wrong?
HP: Oh I don't know. It's just this damned heat. Oh Fiona, how I hate having to meet you furtively like this. Suppose someone were to find us out?
BM: Who would ever think of looking for us here? In this damp, steamy hell. Charles- there's someone there- crouching behind that Palm Tree- see- there- that small, warthy man in a loin cloth. Look he's coming over.
HP: It's all right Fiona. I'll handle him. I speak his language you know. All right- what do you want you grinning devil?
BP: (COCKNEY) Guv'nors respects sir, but he says Ladies aren't allowed in the Turkish Baths of a Monday.

ORCHESTRA: MUSIC

KH: Aah, they knew how to make films in those days. They just didn't bother. Now, Trends in the Theatre. So when I saw an advertisement in the Stage which said- "New West End Management Wants Avant Garde Plays by Unknown Authors" I thought well, I'll give it a try- so I went along to this place in Shaftesbury Avenue- "Bona Productions" it was called.

F/X: DOORBELL

KH: Hello- anybody there-
HP: Hello, I'm Julian and this is my friend Sandy- We're Bona Productions- Sand look what the winds have blown in-
KW: Hold on a minute Jule- I'm on the phone- Hello Noel- Sand here- how was your opening at Brighton? Sorry Noel- Jule and I were devastated we couldn't get down- Well you see we had to go for drinkies with Emily- yes of course you know Emily- Emily Littler- Oh is it? Oh that would explain why he was so cool. Yes, but we hope the show went well. Bye Noel
KH: Noel Coward?
KW: No. Noel Tramwicket- does the Punch and Judy on the beach. One of our shows you know. We do a lot of Summer Season don't we Jule?
HP: yes, we do Minehead Merry-go-round Frolics of Frinton- and then this year we're hoping to do Twinkle on the pier at Yarmouth. But mainly we're a West End Management- plays, you know.
KH: Yes, that;s what I came to see you about- I've written a play- I thought you might like to put it on. It's a simple little farce, set in a country house in Berkshire. HP: Mmm- no- Berkshire- no.
KW: Country House! Ugh naph- make it a slum tenement in Salford.
KH: Well, wouldn't that make the butler out of place?
KW: We can't be doing with butlers in modern plays. Make him a tramp like in "The Caretaker".
HP: Why can't we make him an Inca- like in "Royal Hunt Of The Sun". Incas are very 'in' at the moment.
KW: Compromise Jule- make him an Inca tramp- yes, now Mr Horne- you say you've got this inca tramp living in a slum in Salford? Now that's stimulated me, I don't mind admitting it. That's pregnant with overtones, ennit Jule?
HP: Yes- now where's the hidden menace? Ah- I've got it- and when it's happened they all get dressed as pierrots and sing songs from the Great War for about five hours.
KW: I like it. It's of Now- I can see it- a troupe of Rhinoceroses dragged up as Pierrots trolling about a Salford Slum and singing "Keep the Home Burning". It's got all the ingredients for success- Ionescos's "Rhinoceros"- "the Royal Hunt Of The Sun"- "Oh What A Lovely War" and "A Taste Of Honey"-
KH: It sounds as if it can't miss- what shall I call it? HP: What else can you call it? "Oh What A Lovely Royal Taste Of The Rhinoceros"!

ORCHESTRA: MUSIC

KH: So there we are. They presented it in the West End- Milton Shulman said it was a breakthrough and Harold Hobson said it was a palpable hit. Even Bernard Levin went overboard- he gave it the best review he's ever given anything- he said it stank! Now finally in Trends, we've noticed a recent and healthy trend away from satire and back towards the solid British virtues- Honour, Decency and Patriotism- And so to celebrate this welcome trend here is a patriotic song that I composed myself, in which I shall be supported by the massed voices of the entire cast.

CAST AND ORCHESTRA: PATRIOTIC SONG

Verse: People say this Nation is Fertangle
That we're decimate for Underquian
How can this be
When all around we see
The Caudlemen expunging this refrain.

Chorus: FRYNDE not your name with stone
Let the PAEON triumphant ride
No one shall staunch alone
Drayman is on your side
See the GRUSSEN pouring through the past
Hear the TIMBLES shouting out "He's gasses"
Courage to England's blown
FRATTERN the Empire wide

APPLAUSE

KH: It makes you feel sort of humble doesn't it? Well as this is the last programme of the present series, the producer came to me just before the show and asked me to give a short speech thanking everybody concerned for their wonderful work throughout the whole series, the cast, the orchestra, the writers, the technicians. He asked me if I would thank them, and say what a happy team we were and what a marvellous audience you've been and what great fun we've had these past sixteen weeks. He asked me if I would just make a short speech mentioning all those thing. I said 'No'.
Cheerio- See you next year-

ORCHESTRA: MUSIC

DS: That was "Round The Horne" starring Kenneth Horne-
KW: He's held me back. I could have been a star!
DS: With whom we'd like to couple Kenneth Williams
KW: It's a disgrace!
DS: The talented and lovely Hugh Paddick-
HP: (SINGS) With a smile and a song!
DS: And who among us has not thrilled to the pulchritudinous charms of Miss Betty Marsden-
BM: Many, many times.
DS: Ladies and Gentlemen- please be upstanding for the irrepresible, the unforgettable- er what's his name?
BP: Bill Pertwee- currently appearing at the Pier Pavilion Yokohama.
DS: On the musical side you heard the Fraser Hayes Four and the Hornblowers conducted by Edwin Braden.
Edwin: The Great Hairy Fool
DS: The script was written by Barry Took and Marty Feldman, spinsters of this parish, your announcer has been exciting newcomer Douglas Smith and the whole sordid enterprise has been grossly mismanaged by John Simmonds, who pleads the headaches.
Cast: (AD LIB) Resign- It's a disgrace, etc..

ORCHESTRA: SIG. TUNE UP TO FINISH
(APPLAUSE)


Email me at a.del-manso@virgin.net

Background Information

Series Credits

Cast and Characters

Scripts

Messageboard

Audio Cassettes

Rambling Syd's Ganderbag

Beyond Our Ken

Obituaries