Have developed lovely warm, affectionate feelings for WH Smith, and feelings of resentment towards Connex, Railtrack and rest of those involved in making nightmare of getting to work increasingly nightmarish.

The latter have succeeded in successfully adding to journey times by addition of numerous ticket checks, both personal and mechanical.

So, on an average morning, the pimply youth to whom you show season ticket every day refuses to let you through barrier because he's decided this morning is the morning when your ticket deserves extra-special scrutiny.

Then, just as you are settling down with a cup of coffee, your ticket safely stashed in bag on overhead luggage rack, another inspector decides he wants another good look at it.

And, when you need to go to the loo, same inspector makes you return to your seat to get the ticket, which has already been thoroughly scrutinised twice, before allowing you to relieve yourself.

When you finally arrive at Victoria, your ticket has become so dog-eared from all the handling en route that it refuses to let you through automatic barriers, forcing you to join queue so a real person can look at you, and it, suspiciously for several minutes before letting you go to work.

Smiths, on the other hand, have decided to trust us.

Instead of having to join their already fairly well-regulated and rapidly moving queues to pay for morning paper, they've helpfully placed large metal bins near the news-stand, in which they ask you politely to leave the right change.

A chance, you'd think, for everyone to make off with a free paper and yet everyone seems so delighted at being trusted by someone that they wouldn't dream of paying a penny less than the right price - and often give them a bit more, mentally telling the money-swallowing metal bin to "keep the change".

Even one of the regular "money requesters" that frequent the station: "Spare any change please? It's for my train fare" - the train in question usually being the Jack Daniel's Express which goes about halfway down Queen's Road before coming to an abrupt halt for the night - seem to have no wish to take advantage of the apparent opportunity to grab a free paper.

"Spare any change, please?" someone asked me yesterday morning and before I'd had time to mutter "No, sorry," he explained: "It's for the Telegraph - I need another 15 pence."

I gave it to him and he duly placed it in the trusty bin.

The only downside to the scheme is, if you actually pay the cashier for your paper, you run the risk of being suspected by other paper buyers of being a thief.

As I did this morning when, after entering the newsagent and selecting a magazine, I also told the cashier I wanted a Times, which I'd pick up on the way out.

I paid her in advance but when I took it off the news-stand and went to get the train I could feel several pairs of accusatory eyes focused on my departing back, accusing me of a theft of which I am entirely innocent!

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.