MAN WITH NO DOPE

Ellesmere Guardian, Volume LII, Issue 55, 10 July 1931, Page 7

MAN WITH NO DOPE

/CHANNEL PORT COMEDY.

WARNING TO TRAVELLERS,

"DO NOT BE ABSENT-MINDED."

Port authorities on both sides of the 1 English Channel are making new and i intensive efforts to check the ever- 1 [increasing activities of elusive dope '\ j traffickers. i Special precautions are being taken s on the French side to prevent the entry of the smugglers into France. < Passengers form England are closely ' scrutinised on landing, and not even •< the most innocent of tourists is safe < from suspicion. A Daily Express writer says:— j "Here is my own unfortunate experience the other day. My story has this i sound moral for travellers to the < Continent: Do not be absent-mind- i ed in a French Customs House: I had successfully emerged from the disembarkation and Customs formalities at one of the leading French ports. I had picked up my suitcase and was sauntering through a large crowded room oh my way to the train for Paris. Suddenly but unexpectedly a soft but official voice: "Your luggage, monsieur, has it been examined?" With a start I realised that I had walked through the Customs house without submitting my bag to the little formality of baggage examination. Whispered Conference. I smiled benevolently at the gendarme. "How stupid of me," I condescended, waking from my coma. "Here I am, a regular and experienced traveller, forgetting the Customs," "Oh! You come here often." "But yes," in my best French, "Very often." We reached the long, low bench and displayed my suitcase to the grave authority on the other side of it. "Anything to declare?" "Nothing at all—not even a little cigarette." This in my airy, experienced way. I hardly noticed the whispered few words between the gendarme and the Customs officer. Soon, however, I began to take notice. Shirts, collars, shoes, papers, suits; shaving gear, one after the other came out and were fingered, felt and caressed. The bag itself was tapped, here, there, and all round. Strange and unusual thoroughness. At last it is finished. I prepare to pick up my suitcase. { The gentle gendarme, however, speaks again:— "Will you come this way, please?" Things are happening, somehow, but I go. I begin to feel guilty of I know not what. I observe, as we pass through a little door. "Body Examination." I also observe that another gendarme accompanies us. I find myself in a small, narrow, cell-like chamber, not too clean. There is an iron bedstead, too, covered with a decidedly dirty blanket. I had visions of the rack an the Inquisition. What had I been up to? "Will you kindly remove your coat?" I comply. Tickled From Heat to Foot. My two gendarmes seize the coat greedily. Out come papers, pocket lining is turned out. Seams, linings, crevices are touched, felt, and pressed. The same thing happened to the jacket. "Do you mind if I examine the body?" "Not at all." From head to foot I was tickled and smoothed. A finger was deftly run along the inside of my shoes. "Merci, monsieur," said the gentle gendarme. I recovered my grave British sense of humour. ' 'Now tell me what all this is about." "I am so very sorry you have been troubled, but you see we have to be very careful of drug trafficker's, who are especially active just now." "But why on earth did you pick on me?" "Well, monsieur, you looked so 'distrait.' Your absent-mindedness was so suspicious. But then, honest men have nothing to fear, is it not?" "I congratulate you, monsieur le gendarme, but what a pity—for you." He bowed, we shook hands, we parted. And that is a lesson for the ab-sent-minded in a Customs house.