In the spring a housewife's fancy turns to thoughts of cleaning. Britain in the wake of war was as restless and ruthless as any of them. In her musty old attic many an outworn, heart-warming trinket of tradition was being dusted off, examined and discarded in the harsh light of accuracy and efficiency.
At London's Euston and King's Cross Stations, clocks which have long been set a few minutes fast, to give suburbanite season-ticket-holders (commuters) a margin of safety, were suddenly set right. Commented the approving Manchester Guardian: ". . .A time addict ....
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