RADLETT seconds were once playing at Flitwick when suddenly something moved on the square. “It’s got to be a mole coming up for air,” was the general view, whereupon a Flitwick man hared off for a shovel, beat the ground and a mole appeared. It was then quickly despatched by—would you believe?—a Mr. Mole.
The headline on the local newspaper the next week ran, “Mole kills mole.”