Britain’s election campaign had been a dull fight so far, even by sedate British standards. Last week, Winston Churchill provided a touch of comic relief. During a speech at Cardiff, Churchill was expounding his views on the Socialists’ housing program. “In official Socialist jargon,” Churchill said, “houses are called accommodation units … I don’t know how we are going to sing our old song, Home, Sweet Home” Then he paused, put his left hand on his breast, stretched out his right hand appealingly and hoarsely burst into song:
Accommodation unit, sweet accommodation unit,
There’s no place like our accommodation unit.
When his audience stopped laughing, Churchill got grim again. Said he: “I hope to live to see the British democracy spit all this rubbish from their lips.”
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