Jest, Smile

In the good old days they wore funny hats with bells on top.

They were there to give the Royals a giggle. Kings of England often needed cheering up, and Court Jesters were just the job.

They went out of fashion one grim morning 350 years ago. King Charles the First was executed. He got his head chopped off – which was no laughing matter for the King - or for his jester Mr Muckle John. One fatal swing of an axe and Mr John's contract came to a bloody end.

But good news. Soon there will be a new Jester. English Heritage, the national organisation that looks after our history, has just hired one. He will have to amuse the nation.

It's a tall order. We don't laugh much these days. My copy of this little book recently arrived by mail. It is meant to be a helpful guide to survival in these dangerous days of terrorism, and it has been distributed to every household in Britain – courtesy of the Government. We are advised to stock up. Buy plenty of canned food, bottled water. Be careful, be watchful, stay tuned to the radio. If something happens, get inside. They don't say for how long. And they can't advise where the danger lies. Or what the danger really is. If I wasn't miserably scared before reading it, I am now.

But the knack of looking miserable is something we Brits are already extremely good at. A survey conducted throughout Europe rates us the glummest nation. Whenever a camera clicks we frown.

And we are so embarrassed about the gloomy faces on our passport pictures that we actually hide them from our families. At least it will be easy for us to comply with new instructions from the UK Passport Agency. In future, when passport photographs are taken, you must look straight ahead. Dead serious and utterly grim. They are bringing in sophisticated passport scanning equipment because of the terrorist threat. And it just won't work with a cheesy grin. All of which is likely to wipe the smile off the face of the new English national jester. Happy days.

By Ed Boyle