Light in Yorkshire

Britain has never fully come to grips with the discovery of electricity. In all but the newest buildings, electrical equipment and wiring run to as many different types and sizes as the fanciful British mind could devise. There are fused plugs and unfused plugs, plugs with two prongs and plugs with three prongs, with round prongs and square prongs. There are plugs the size of kumquats, walnuts, pingpong balls and lemons. Some appliances have three-strand wire, some two. The voltage may be either 210, 220 or 240--or in a few areas, 110. When an American visitor tries to use a transformer to make a 110-voltage U.S. appliance work in a 220-volt British house, he finds he has been cunningly outwitted: Britain uses 50-cycle current instead of the 60-cycle found in the U.S. This causes 60-cycle U.S. washers and driers to wash and dry feebly, produces a querulous drawl in 60-cycle phonographs and tape recorders.

Sometimes the British even outwit themselves. Last month electricians of the Yorkshire Electricity Board set about installing a new transformer for the small, 30-house village of Carlecotes (pop. 105). When the current was turned on, it lasted exactly 50 seconds. In that time, 72 light bulbs burst in their sockets. Three village street lamps blazed like searchlights and then burned out. TV and radio sets smoked like burning leaves. Electric motors for milking machines and a bottling plant sizzled. Water heaters exploded. The fireworks over, Carlecotes was plunged back into darkness.

What had happened? Explained an embarrassed Electricity Board technician: "There was a break in the neutral connection in the three-phase supply that became unbalanced." None the wiser, the citizens of Carlecotes presented the board with the biggest electrical bill in the village's history. "We'll repair or replace everything damaged," promised a harassed official.

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