When I was on a bus last week, there was an Eastern European lady with several children eating sweets. She collected all the paper wrappings and just when I was thinking how tidy she was, she stood up, opened the bus window and threw them out. I kept my head down, did I do the correct thing?
C.M., Swindon

Cui bono? What good was intervention now? The damage is done. We cannot stop the bus to pick up her litter. I suppose we could try to teach her good British manners. But she must have found out by now that we are the dirtiest litterbugs in the world. And how good is our Polish / Czech / Ruritanian? We run the risk of getting into an incomprehensible exchange of increasingly bad temper in front of children. If we intervene, we should do so in a gentle and amicable way. As with other insurmountable distresses of humanity, I should be inclined to let irrecoverable sweety papers lie. Wet, Eh?

It is an indisputable fact that the water closet was invented by the sanitary pioneer, Thomas Crapper. Is it permissible to refer to the mechanism and housing as “the crapper” or would this represent an all-out assault on decorum?
Robert Randell, London SE26

Etymologically and as an eponym, crapper is correct. Socially, it is coarse. OK for small boys and Rugga Buggas. The name we give to the necessary convenience essential for all mortals is a potent class indicator in southern England. “Toilet” is lower class. “Loo” is middle class and has become twee. “Bog” is schoolboy. “Lavvy” is schoolgirl. “Gents”, “ladies” and “WC” are fairly neutral. Americans say “john”. These are problematic and socially charged semantics.

What is the correct form for placing letters after an individual’s name? Should letters denoting academic achievement follow medical qualifications or vice versa?
Jane Wright Msc, Bsc (Hons), RGN, RNT, Saintfield, Co Down

The short answer is that university degrees precede medical qualifications in the position of letters after the name. The long answer is that Bt or Bart (for a baronet) and Esq, if applicable, precede all other letters. Then orders and decorations conferred by the Crown. Then appointments such as Privy Counsellor, Aide de Camp to Her Maj, Honorary Physician to the Queen. Then university degrees. Then religious orders. Then medical qualifications. Then fellowships of learned societies. Then secondary (ie non-royal) appointments, such as QC, JP, DL, MP. Finally membership of one of the armed forces, such as RN or RAF. Phew. I should take Occam’s Razor to all such alphabet soup of letters after names. Abbrevs and honorifics, like entia, non sunt multiplicanda.

Sickly-sweet eulogies at funerals make my toes curl up. Before those toes curl up for the very last time — some way off, I hope — would it be in order for me to make it clear to my nearest and dearest that such a tribute, should there be anyone willing to pay it, is to be no part of my passing. (No need to rush in your advice.)
Ian Chapman, Cottingham, Yorkshire

Of course you may leave instructions and requests for your Last Hurrah. It would be tidy to do so. But remember that such OTT eulogies are not for the benefit of the dear departed loved one. He or she is beyond such guff, looking down (or up) with an inhuman or sardonic smile. The eulogies are meant to solace the nearest and dearest, and your friends and acquaintances, now that you are beyond all human consolation or flattery.

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