Nyns eus goon heb lagas, na ke heb scovarn

There is no down without an eye, nor hedge without an ear


The picture shows the moment at the NASA (Neerly Alright Space Agency) launch pad at Cape Cornwall on Friday, when all twelve inhabitants of a Sancreed Old Folks Home were blasted into space aboard a specially-adapted Western National bus, en route for Mars, the Red Planet.

The successful launch was the culmination of years of planning and effort by thousands of scientists at the giant St Buryan Space City.

As the launch was relayed, on giant television screens, to the underground control room on the seventh level of the Space City, jubilant engineers burst into spontaneous applause, hugging each other in delight. Some were so overcome with relief that their years of effort had not been in vain that tears coursed uncontrolled down their faces.

The object of the expedition is to found a colony -- a kind of mini St Buryan -- on Mars. It is hoped that, in time, the colonists (being Cornish) will be able to exploit the vast mineral wealth of their new home. Once mines have been established, it is envisaged that a trading station will be set up, and that wealth will flow back to the "motherland" of St Buryan.

All the pensioners are volunteers who have seized the chance to begin a new life on the Red Planet.
When asked why they volunteered for the mission, a majority said -- unaccountably -- that it was because they were bored with life in Sancreed!

As the picture shows, none of the intrepid astronauts -- courageous though they undoubtedly are -- were willing to sit on the open top deck of the bus during lift-off.

To make the expedition possible, two litres of fuel were supplied free by Cornish entrepreneur and philanthropist W.G. Trevaskis, with Trevaskis's arch-rival RC ("Arsey") Oates and the Kwop making similarly generous contributions.


Celebrated St Buryan poet Walter Wakfer-Borlase (94) is shown here on the left in a photograph taken by Dorlas Penrose, ultraloyal retainer, in a photo-shoot some thirty years ago.

Wakfer-Borlase has achieved international recognition (throughout St Buryan) for his evocative poetry, which is inspired by the Cornwall "to which I duh owe my all".

The great man penned the following poem from his deathbed, following a walk in bracing winds in Porthleven last week.

PEN SANS (Wosgoinoneera?)

I wen’ over Porthlebben las’ week -
Went fer a walk an’ a li’l bit geek.
The sun was sum lovely, but the sea - it was rough
A wind was up – an' we soon ‘ad enuff.

So we all come ‘ome fer a nice cup tay
A nice warming drink at the end of the day.
We come through P’nzance, the Ross bridge still down
Forcin’ the traffic round an’ up through the town.

That set me to thinkin’ ‘ow much ‘ave gone by
No Marchants, no Jacobs – no real reason why.
The town changes shops, like a woman ‘er dress
But I don’t think the changes are all fer the best.

Now i’s all bleddy phone shops – estate agents too --
Cheap shops and trash shops – give me nuthin’ – nor you.
Tregenza’s, Trezise’s – old names and true
Like Andrewartha and Simpsons – served my grandfathers too.

They are all old ‘real’ businesses – source of pride fer P’nzance
Give the town value and character – their names ring of romance.
‘Ow long will it be till these old names go too
And we’re left with just ANYTOWN’s Orange and O2?

The Roundup is saddened to have to report that Walter choked on his badger broth some few hours after dictating this work to his ever-faithful live-in companion and amanuensis, Dorlas Penrose (72).

Amidst uncontrollable floods of tears, Dorlas stated that his ‘beloved master’ would now, at least, no longer have to witness the continued depletion of old Cornish businesses in the town he fondly described as the capital of West Penwith.


The Roundup is justly known for its high standards of journalism, which are the envy of the newspaper industry. However, even we have made the odd mistake.

We apologise unreservedly to the family of Mrs Doris Lutey, whose obituary last week was entitled “Soliciting in Penzance for over 35 years”. Mrs Lutey’s calling is, of course, more properly described as that of a solicitor.

We also apologise to Mrs Lutey herself, who has written in to tell us that she is not yet, in fact, dead. Following extensive negotiations with Mrs Lutey, the Roundup has agreed to pay a sum of £12.50 to the Sancreed Methodist Home for Fallen Women.