Lancastrian, Cockney, West Country, Canadian, Journalese and -- worst of all -- Legalese.

When our high-faluting lawyers and judges get together in the Supreme Court simple English goes out of the window.

How is any normal street-wise Bermudian or ex-pat Mancunian (from Manchester) supposed to understand this legislative poppycock? Hence the need for journalists to decode the drivel.

To win court cases lawyers seem to want to facilitate vindications to liberate the defendant, despite significant grievances from complainants, and prevent their clientele from acquiring fiduciary or custodial adjudications against themselves, as the case may be.

Only this week a lawyer defending a sex offender claimed a reason for his crimes was "withdrawal of consortium''. Did that mean he had lost his job? Hardly a reason for sexual assault.

No, consortium actually means sex.

So the next time local night-owls go out to "get some'' or for a "roll in the hay'' will they be seeking consortium? *** VIP A month since the Queen's visit, the waves have yet to die down completely.

One ripple has travelled across the Atlantic from Britain's Daily Telegraph newspaper, which carried an account of the royal trip.

Like most of the Press covering the event, the Telegraph's Robert Hardman saw the Premier's speech at the Speaker's Dinner as a clear call for nationhood.

His story refers to a "raging Independence debate'' in the Island despite cheering crowds and a "deceptively English atmosphere''.

At the Speaker's Dinner, writes Hardman, the Premier made a "frank declaration of Bermuda's desire for nation status''.

Many whites refused to clap, says the story, and disapproving "clucking noises'' were heard.

The article has taken pride of place in a scrapbook belonging to Somerset couple Mr. Ronnie Sloper and Mrs. June Sloper. But not because of its political references.

The Slopers helped assemble a group of corgi owners who greeted Her Majesty at King Edward VII Memorial Hospital. The Queen, a keen owner of such dogs herself, stopped her car and rolled down her window to speak to them.

It was a reference to this event in the Telegraph, one of the UK's most respected papers, that prompted the Slopers to keep the cutting as a souvenir.

Hardman's story ends with a light-hearted description of the corgi delegation.

He writes that their banner, "Bermuda Corgis Welcome Her Majesty'', was the strangest seen on the Queen's overseas tour.

For reporters covering the Queen's visit, there is also a favourite memory.

They recall instructions given to journalists who were invited to a special reception at Government House, where they were introduced to the Royal Couple.

"Try to keep the conversation light,'' says Rule Number Seven of the instructions.

"Don't ask questions about her family.'' *** NJ Here's another one for Government's new Department of Corrections.

The Bank of Bermuda has sent a stern notice to local editors and broadcasters, reminding them how to spell the name of the bank's new president, Charles Vaughan-Johnson.

"It has come to my attention that a mis-spelling of Vaughan-Johnson has become established within the local press,'' says bank community relations officer Cathy Frith Farris.

"Please ensure all your staff are made aware of the correction.'' Unfortunately, the impact of the memo is somewhat reduced when you examine it.

The word "mis-spelling'' comes out as "mis-spelliing''.

And at the top of the page, in a list of five journalists receiving the circular, there are two incorrect names.

Tom Vesey, editor of the Bermuda Sun, is listed as Tom Veasey. And Tim Hodgson, editor of the Mid-Ocean News, becomes Tim Hudgson.

In any case, The Royal Gazette had an Assistant Editor who spelled his name correctly, Christopher Vaughan-Johnston.