“My father says that the fog is because we all burn coal,” said Johny

            “I don’t think that can be right. We burn coal all the time and fog only comes on days like this,” replied George.

            “We will have to ask the science master about it.”

            “If we ever get to school. Where is the train?!”

            When the train did come it stopped frequently, not just at the usual stations but often in between, and more and more passengers whose trains had been cancelled crowded on. It was several hours before the train finally arrived at Finsbury Park.

            “We are going to be terribly late for school. I hope we won’t get told off.”

They caught the first bus to Manour House , but it was going so slow they eventually got off and walked, overtaking it..

            “This is what my father calls a peasouper. They had a lot of these in Victorian times.”

            At the Manor House underground station there was a bus inspector standing. “There are no busses going down Green Lanes today,” he said with an authorative air, but at just that moment a bus appeared out of the fog so they got on, amused at the inspector’s embarrassment.

            However it was going so slow the conductor had to get off and walk in front with a tourch to guide the driver. It was like night, so they again got off and walked making much better progress than the official transport.

            Eventually they went into school through the back gate. The School Hall seemed empty so they made their way to their classroom where their form master was sitting looking rather forlorn in a classroom that was almost as dense with fog as outside. The overhead lights hung on their long chords looking more dreary than ever, unable to make their presence felt. “There are no lessons today I’m afraid. We had a staff meeting and decided that it would be best if everyone who turned up, turned round and went straight back home before it got dark.”

            It was lunchtime by now, so they went to the kitchen where one of the nice dinner ladies found them some meat pies to keep them going and they set off into the greyness once again to home.

            This time they did not try to find a bus. They just walked to Finsbury Park Station.

            Eventually what should have been a fast train came in and the porter assured them that it would be stopping at all stations, so they got on and hoped for the best.

            “This is quite an adventure,” said Johny.

            “It would make life more exciting if all school days were like this.” answered George.