Home The Duchess of Cambridge gave birth to a boy, weighing 8lb 6oz, an heir to the crown, third in line to the throne. Great public excitement was expressed by taking photographs of an official notice of the birth posted on a gilt easel inside the railings of Buckingham Palace. Bells rang and gun salutes
The best way to weather the heat wave is to head for the shade with a copy of the new issue of the Spectator, in which you will you find some diverting book reviews to while away an hour or two. Here is a selection: Philip Hensher treads carefully around Winston Churchill’s imperialism, the subject
‘I’ll lick the spoon if you can produce a valid food hygiene certificate.’
‘He’s building his own coffin from Lego.’
‘They exiled him there when he went mad.’
‘Aren’t you worried you’ll make him obese?’
‘We insisted the garden designer devote an entire section to a play area.’
‘We produce some of the country’s finest Labour MPs.’
‘Oh no! It’s the drone ranger.’
‘Apparently he’s really J.K. Rowling.’
‘I’m slightly embarrassed by that one — no skill involved; only road rage.’
‘Who let this riff-raff in?’
‘This is the voice of what remains of the BBC, coming to you from a hidden bunker somewhere in the UK…’
‘We’re a scalpel missing.’
‘Of course I understand your concern about always being on your own — you’re a locust, after all.’
‘I’ll be honest: we’ve never thought you were good enough for our Lucy.’
