It was made into a play, a Broadway as well as a Hollywood musical, and a fabulous movie starring Rosalind Russell. Since then, Mame has taken her rightful place in the pantheon of Great and Important People as the world's most beloved, madcap, devastatingly sophisticated, and glamorous aunt. She is impossible to resist, and this hilarious story of an orphaned ten-year-old boy sent to live with his aunt is as delicious a read in the twenty-first century as it was in the 1950s.

    The tiny Duchy of Grand Fenwick decides the only way to survive an economic downturn is to declare war on the United States and lose to get foreign aid - but things don't go according to plan.The Mouse That Roared was originally published as a six-part serial in the Saturday Evening Post, and was made into a successful feature film starring Peter Sellers.

    Reprint of early MAD comic strips

    Drop your present reading matter into a glass of water and see how it dissolves into a soggy mess. Now try the same test with a MAD book. Notice how crisp and firm the cover stays, how those bright MAD pages begin to fizz. In just eight seconds MAD's mind-rotting ingredients paralyse the cerebellum, bringing blessed relief. So remember - when brain-fag strikes, strike back with MAD!

    

    And as much as we (and millions of others) love him for his high-jinks and high spirits, we love him even more for doing-with incredible aplomb-the things we never dare to do ourselves.

    Sid James became the quintessential shifty crook, Bill Kerr played Tony Hancock's best friend while Moira Lister became his girlfriend, and as Kenneth Williams intoned a variety of authority-voices--police, magistrates, etc.--another comic star was born. Out of the 16 original programmes from the period under review, the BBC managed to lose six--culpable carelessness--but among the extant 10 there are outright gems, some of which will be unfamiliar even to fans, and many of which would today be banned as hopelessly un-PC. Viz Hancock's cheery greeting: "Morning Charlie. Working? Oh, of course you don't need to, with 28 children!" Or his observation--of some sluggish British workmen building a house--that he's glad they've been provided with shovels complete with arm-rests. Asked for his own address, he replies "I've just moved. They pulled down my house to build a slum". Relayed cold, such comments may not even raise a smile: Hancock's magic was all in the telling, and in the momentum he built up, as in his Monte Carlo rally programme, in which signposts were turned round and bridges blown up. One of the nicest sketches evolves out of him being left to do the housework like Cinderella, while everyone else troops off to the ball. When he died, a victim of depression, in Australia in 1968, Britain lost something irreplaceable: this five-CD set, with its accompanying booklet, makes a splendid memento. The next batch of releases is eagerly awaited. --Betty Tadman