A London Particular

"This," explained young Mr. Guppy to the bewildered 19th Century traveler in Dickens' Bleak House, "is a London particular, a fog."

"This," explained an Air France steward to 33 passengers aboard a plane at London Airport last week, "is what you call a real pea-souper." One of the thickest particulars in London's fogbound history was blanketing the field. It had caught the airliner just after she landed on Runway 280. Before the French pilot could brake to a stop, his aircraft was blanketed. "Stay where you are " ordered the control tower in answer to his plea. "We'll tow you in." Pilot Legillou ordered champagne and brandy passed out to the passengers. "We must be happy while we wait," he said. An airline bus set out to the rescue across the runways. It promptly got lost. A truck was sent to find the bus. It also got lost. Within an hour five separate search parties were groping helplessly about the field. At long last, a lone motorcyclist loomed out of the mist at the plane's door. "I've found you," he told the passengers cheerfully, "but now I've lost meself." Off he went into the fog again.

An hour later, a bus worked its way at last to the plane's side and picked up the passengers. They arrived at the waiting-room only to learn that the truck which carried all their luggage was lost in the fog.

Soon the fog had spread over the entire city. At least 25 people were injured stumbling through its gloom; King George VI had to cancel a trip to the theater--his first evening out since his operation three months ago; greyhound racing at the White City was abandoned because dogs couldn't see the hare; and a mallard duck flying blind over central London slammed into Victoria Station and crash-landed on No. 6 platform.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.