The tin toy doesn’t fancy the baby he’s supposed to entertain very much when he observes it cover it’s multi-coloured hoops in drool. No wonder he now flees the length and breadth of the room - with the baby in tottering pursuit. Eventually he finds sanctuary under the sofa - along with a great many of his discarded predecessors, only for the child to topple over - probably slipped in it’s own dribble - and start to blub. “Tinny” is really quite a kindly soul and so at risk of life and limb sets off to play. Thing is, after a few seconds of engagement it turns out that the bairn is way more int...