* THE answer to our having too many telephones is that we are going to

have . . . more telephones. We were puzzling over this conundrum last

night in McSonachan's after a hard day at the STD face, our left ears

red-raw with receiver-fatigue.

Of course it was mere coincidence that one of us had just taken a call

from home. Something to do with the dog's tail being trapped in the spin

dryer. Our colleague returned to the bar, sighing, finished the pint of

stout, and ordered another round.

Before charges are levelled of ''typically arrogant male behaviour'',

let me point out that the perpetrator was Ms Desiree Flexitime of our

Trust Deeds Department (''The Silent Vultures'') and the call had come

from her house-husband. Autres temps, autres moeurs.

McSonachan is one of those licensees who operate a telephone filter

system. It is not as sophisticated as that in Edinburgh's Oxford Bar,

which once posted a list of fees for different responses, culminating

in: ''Never heard of him -- #1.'' McSonachan's technique is more direct.

He simply looks at the quarry and bawls: ''Is Desiree Flexitime in the

bar?''

Anyway, when Desiree returned sighing to her pint, we knew it had been

one of those tough phone calls that every dedicated drinker dreads when

winding down after work (a diminishing band of brothers and sisters, I

have noted: a grant from British Heritage is surely indicated).

We watched silently to see what would happen next. When Desiree

ordered another round, it confirmed that we were in the presence of a

true professional, and conversation resumed with renewed fervour.

We were perturbed by the Cable & Wireless launch of the Mercury

One-2-One mobile phone system, in which local calls will be free. The

implications are obvious. The system would have the effect of by-passing

the McSonachan filter.

Can you imagine the terror and anxiety in a bar where everybody had a

Mercury mobile phone? The local calls from home are always the most

feared. If they are free, you can't cut them off on the grounds that the

meter is running.

Also, the hunter can seek the quarry round a whole list of favoured

howffs without incurring a penny of extra expense. It is quite clear

that Lord Young, chairman of Cable & Wireless, doesn't go to

McSonachan's after work.

The Braces said there were advantages. On a busy night in the pub, for

example, when you are at the back and nobody is giving way, you could

pull out your mobile and dial the barman with your order. Typically,

barmen like telephone calls because it gives them a chance to light a

cigarette.

Ms Angelica Banana-Skyne, the High Whitecraigs polymath, asked if we

hadn't forgotten something. ''Everybody would have a pocket phone,'' she

said. ''They'd need to put up a special satellite just to handle the

orders at McSonachan's.''

The only good news was that this Mercury system won't reach Scotland

for about three years. Three years' drinking-up time seems quite

reasonable, but we left the bar at 10.30 in a gloomy frame of mind.

* THE speculation about how Kenneth Clarke will raise extra revenue in

his November Budget must be giving the Chancellor a few laughs. The

laugh a hangman has as he peers through peepholes in cell doors,

measuring candidates for the rope.

We are intrigued by a piece in the magazine Newspaper Focus, sounding

the prospects of VAT on our organs. Sadly, it concludes that a newspaper

campaign against the tax would be counter-productive, as ''journalists

have about as much public esteem as Bosnian Serb generals''.

Well, whatever you say about Bosnian Serb generals, they are not

subject to 17.5% VAT. Even Lord Owen hasn't tried that one. Maybe he is

waiting for Kenneth Clarke to test the water.