The Illegal Immigrant.

One of the more interesting of today’s news items concerns a wild boar that has been running free on the island of Alderney for the past month or so. Theory has it that the pig probably swam there from the French mainland, and it recently turned up on a farm owned by Alan and Tess Woodnutt.

‘I put on my best cooey voice,’ explained Mrs Woodnutt, 'and said “Venir à moi, petit cochon” very calmly, like; and Alan did his best Gallic shrug. (He’s very good at Gallic shrugs, is Alan. His mother grew a lot of onions, you know.) But it was no good. The pig took off and flew over a 3ft fence, and we haven’t seen hide nor hair of it since. I always thought pigs flying was a joke, didn’t you?’

Meanwhile, Nigel Farage, the leader of the United Kingdom Independence Party, called a press conference to demand that Britain leave the European Union without further delay.

‘Wild pigs today, Basque Separatists tomorrow,’ he intoned gravely. ‘Or worse, by Jove. My mother grew a lot of onions, you know, which just goes to prove that we don’t need foreigners any more than they need us.’

A journalist in the room idly remarked that they get a lot of wild boar in the suburbs of Berlin.

‘Quite, my boy, quite,’ retorted Mr Farage. ‘My point precisely. Wild pigs today, giant man-eating spiders tomorrow. The residents of Hampstead won’t feel safe in their own leafy gardens. Collapse the Channel Tunnel, I say! Secure the Western Approaches! Raise the drawbridge, and damned be him who first cries “Hold! Enough!”’

At that point the UKIP leader’s mouth was frothing so badly that the remainder of his words were lost in a torrent of spluttering spume, and the journalists were forced to retire beyond hearing range.

Meanwhile, the ‘ghost pig’ of Alderney – for so it is affectionately known owing to its habit of appearing only at dusk – continues to demonstrate that even French pigs are better at swimming than flying.