Below are a number of amusing articles, that have been submitted by Michael Lake, to spruce up the Bulletin. They have varying relevance to the world of Speleology. Most importantly however, they are just good fun.
'Now, let me digress. I live, and have for many years lived, in Derbyshire, a county more celebrated for its caves than any other county in England. I have been through them all, and am familiar with every turn of them; as also with other great caves in Kentucky, in France, in Germany, and a host of other places - in many of these are tremendously deep caves of narrow aperture, which are valued by intrepid explorers, who descend narrow gullets of abysmal depth - and sometimes never return. In many of the cavers in the Peak I am convinced that some of the smaller passages were used in primeval times as lairs of some of the great serpents of legend and tradition. It may have been that such caverns were formed in the usual geologic way - bubbles or flaws in the earth's crust - which were later used by the monsters of the period of the young world. It may have been, of course, that some of them were worn originally by water; but in time they all found a use when suitable by living monsters.
"The Lair of the White Worm" by Bram Stoker, first published 1911.
Bram Stoker is known for his somewhat better novel, Dracula.
First there was Dial-A-Prayer, then Dial-A-Recipe, and even Dial-A-Footballer. But the south-east Victorian town of Sale has produced one to top them all.
It all began early yesterday when Sale police received a telephone call: "You won't believe this, and I'm not drunk, but there's a wombat in the phone booth outside the town hall," the caller said. Not firmly convinced about the caller's claim to sobriety, members of the constabulary drove to the scene, expecting to pick up a drunk. But there it was, an annoyed wombat, trapped in a telephone booth. The wombat, determined not to be had the better of again, threw its bulk into the fray. It was eventually lassoed and released in a nearby scrub. Then the officers received another message ... another wombat in another phone booth. There it was: *Another* angry wombat trapped in a telephone booth. The constables took the miffed marsupial into temporary custody and released it, too, in the scrub. But on their way back to the station they happened to pass another telephone booth, and -- you guessed it -- another imprisoned wombat. After some serious detective work, the lads in blue found a suspect, and after questioning, released him to be charged on summons. Their problem ... they cannot find a law against placing wombats in telephone booths.
"Newcastle Morning Herald", NSW Australia, Aug 1980.