THEY were up to something. Two boys, aged circa 13, giggling mischievously, had loitered behind their 12-strong school party.

The pair was crouching below a dining room window of the Randolph Hotel. Sitting at a table near the window were three women, presumably enjoying mid-morning coffee and cakes.

Suddenly the boys stood up and pressed their ‘sad’ faces to the window, while their hands were cupped in begging pose.

What the women’s reaction was I can’t say; I had walked on and was with the school group outside the Playhouse Theatre when the pair dashed up and proudly announced what they had done.

The only person not laughing was their young male teacher. He delivered a few sharp words before telling everyone to head for the Gloucester Green market place – and to be quick about it. A confrontation with the hotel’s authorities was better avoided.

As the last of the group scuttled around the corner, he shook his head – but now there was a broad smile.

“Young devils!” he said. “They’ll get me drummed out of school if the head hears about this. But I wish I’d seen the women’s faces.”

EVERYONE in Frideswide Square seemed to hear the horn of the double decker except the tall hoody-wearing young man who seemed inches (and seconds) from disaster.

Another blast from the horn followed. This accompanied arm-waving pedestrians who were witnessing the drama. An elderly woman crossed herself and gazed heavenwards. It might have been her plea to the Boss Upstairs that brought the young man safely to the pavement.

“Chancing it, weren’t you?” I said.

“Eh?”he replied.

“Walking in front of that bus?”

“Eh?” he repeated before pushing back the hood to reveal the biggest set of headphones in Christendom. I’ve seen smaller biscuit tin lids.

“Forget it,” I said uncharitably. Sympathy has its limits. “SOMEBODY loves you,” said our postman as he handed over 10 items of mail. The top one was a thank-you letter from a grandson; the rest were begging letters.

Two from charities helping injured servicemen and women and their families, two from donkey sanctuaries, two animal protection groups and the other three from child care charities – all organisations I’m already happy to support.

I wasn’t surprised. After all money is tight for everyone and Christmas is bearing down. But I took a dim view of two letters from organisations that had assured me I’d never be tapped for cash again if I gave an initial donation – which I did.

I would like to think these were caused by computer errors but somehow I doubt it.