Shoulders hunched, schoolboy gangly tall, blazered but medals missing. Crinkly Steptoe smile with a protruding lower lip, moulded into shape by the constant use of an s-shaped Sherlock Holmes type pipe. Using his thumb to push in the tobacco, he cannot wait! His eyes dart hither and thither, eagerly awaiting his smoke! Grinning from ear to ear. What is he doing? Moving in for the kill, he is just about to take over the conducting but he is gently dissuaded from doing such an act of outrage. The band tunes up, the conductor calls everyone to attention and the swish of the baton heralds the commencement of the first jazz number, a hearty tune. Already feet are starting to strum in time. The drummer applies his trade with gusto and the Saxophone players, all three of them, wave their flagged instruments in honour. The critter moves away.