"They just don't like us 'cos they think we're short" said one gnome when questioned on this.

"Which is wrong, 'cos we're not short at all. They're just too tall. It's a waste of perfectly good skin."

Gnomes have always been sensitive about their height- or lack of it, and some say that their famous sense of humour is a defense mechanism that is bourne out of insecurity.

We asked Dr.Darius Gnomalus, Head of Psychology at the Gnome Institute of Knowledge, about this. He disagreed vehemently.

"You think I have to make up for my lack of height with cheap gags? You're crazy as a coconut. Us gnomes can be very serious individuals you know."

It was at this point that Dr.Darius' head exploded, sending tiny pieces of gnome everywhere. I recoiled in shock and horror, wondering how such a terrible thing could have happened. Only then did I discover that this was not the real Dr.Darius, but a synthetic model.

The good doctor now appeared from behind a potted plant, convulsing with laughter.

"I'm sorry, but you should have seen your face. Absolutely priceless! And I'm a good ventiloquist, yes? You bigguns are so easy to fool. Maybe the air is too thin up there- not enough oxygen to the brain perhaps?"

I terminated the interview at this point.

nd it was only after storming out in disgust that it suddenly hit me. Maybe the problem wasn't with gnomes, but with humans. Perhaps we do take ourselves too seriously. Maybe it was time to put the humour back into human.

So I decided to lighten the tension. I resolved to buy a custard pie, and splat it into the face of the next gnome that I met- just to show that us bigguns can have fun too. I would forge a new era of gnome-man relations, by being an ambassador of silliness.

Which is exactly what I did. Arming myself with the most custardy flan available, I headed off towards the Grand Tree. Standing at the bottom was a rather funny -looking gnome, who was obviously just minding his own business.

Having found my target, I let fly with the pie, covering his gnomic features with a thick layer of gunk. At this point I then burst out laughing, but the gnome remained eerily silent. I thought I'd better explain myself.

"I'm sorry friend, just having a bit of fun. What's your name anyway?"

"Glough", replied the gnome earnestly. "My name is Glough."