Description: The busy suburban high street outside Wimbledon Town Hall. Red double and single decker buses, vans, lorries, private cars and bikes, go up and down the road and people walk along the pavements and cross the road on a zebra crossing, as the title proclaims 'Wimbledon Borough Council present Know Your Borough' and the credits roll to the sound of jaunty band music.

Inside the Town Hall, the Mayor dressed in his red, sable trimmed robe and chain of office, the gold mace on the desk in front of him, sits in the wood-panelled council chamber. He is flanked by a line of red-robed aldermen while the bewigged Town Clerk sits at a desk in front. All are male and most are grey-haired. The mostly male councillors sit facing them in the body of the chamber, formally dressed in their dark blue robes, and as one of few women rises to speak, the commentator, in deep, plummy tones wonders how many of those watching really know how their borough is run from the Town Hall, 'the nerve centre of Wimbledon's administration.'

Images come in quick succession of the many things that, the commentary tells us. the council deals with: a Victorian brick library - 'the book lovers' meeting place', a woman wheeling a pram across a pedestrian crossing in a busy street, a swimming pool with children in bathing costumes and bathing caps, some slightly ramshackle looking road works with a large road repair sign, and some houses under construction. Then a close up of a metal dustbin with a lid. 'Have you ever thought,' muses the commentator, 'how much rubbish would collect in a year if your dustbin was never emptied?' Fortunately the Highways Department provides dustmen, who we see, jacketed and flat capped,carrying the bins on their backs out of a suburban garden and emptying them into a large dustbin lorry Further down the road another man with a brush and a metal hand cart sweeps the street. But for now we follow the lorry, with its two wheeled covered trailer, as it sets off for the 'refuse destructor' in Durnsford Road. The site is marked by a tall brick chimney belching out smoke. At the depot, the trailer containing 'salvageable material' is disconnected and the men push it across to the part of the site where it will be sorted. Large packs of paper and cardboard stand ready to be sold on. The lorry with the remaining refuse goes to the receiving bay of the destructor, and the rubbish is tipped down. Below, bare chested men, their bodies shiny with sweat shovel the rubbish into the furnaces. At the other side men push barrow loads of glowing remains away from the furnaces and tip them on to the ground outside. As a close up shows, nothing of value is left. All this work the commentator reminds us costs only a few pence a year, Finally the remains are loaded, using a Chaseside shovel, onto a lorry which sets off down the road. The rubbish, says the commentator, 'has disappeared from sight for ever'.

But now to 'more pleasant things': we are told that Wimbledon has more than 400 acres of parks and lakes, as the camera focusses on a lake surrounded by grass and trees, and children feeding ducks and swans. People walk through a well kept park, on neat pathways, past colourful flower beds and two elderly women quite formally dressed in dark coats and hats sit very upright on a park bench. The most recently acquired park apparently is Cannizaro Park, which has 'rare trees and shrubs' shown in close-up, as is a brick lily pond. Two young children with their mother stand under some trees wearing neat double breasted knee length coats with contrasting collars and pocket trims. There's 'more to do than look at flowers' though. Youngish men and women, mostly dressed in white, are playing tennis on the municipal courts ('not just Wimbledon'). Older men, formally dressed in dark, blazers, white trousers and white caps are playing bowls on a well tended green. In close up, one man bends down to measure which of the two opposing bowls is closest to the jack. In long shot a cricket match is in progress on another green - all the players in white. Other players are sitting around on the ground with their friends watching the match. Small, rather cute, children in close up are handling the numbers for the score board. The commentator a little severely tells them to stop messing about and that 'this is where you should be', as the camera cuts to the playground and large groups of children on the metal swings, slides and roundabouts. The boys all wear short trousers and long socks and there are a few of the sleeveless fair-isle sweaters popular at the time; the girls all wear dresses, cardigans and ankle socks.

They'll all need 'a jolly good wash' when they get home says the commentator and close-ups of a rather square, white. ceramic wash basin and someone pulling a lavatory chain attached to an old-fashioned brown painted cistern provide the link to take us to the way that the council deals with waste water - and more. A green drain pipe leads down the brick wall by the bathroom window to the main sewer in the road outside. The road sweeper, seen earlier, is standing day dreaming and the commentator shouts 'Come on Charlie, get a move on!'. Charlie starts sweeping again, but the camera follows the dirty brown waste water along the broad pipes to the sewage works in Durston Road. The first process is 'screening' to remove solid matter and a heavy metal chain is pulled up on huge pulleys. The sewage is then pumped by some solid looking machinery to the brick mixing tower where lime solution is poured from a bucket into the channel as it moves along. This mixture is then left in large, outdoor settlement tanks, surrounded by metal rails and various bits of machinery, for the impurities to sink to the bottom. The water in the outflow channel is observably cleaner, and flows into further rectangular tanks surrounded by small trees and bushes. The sludge that has been removed is sent to the pressing plant and when it is dried off it is sold for fertiliser -the commentary reminds us that this too helps save money for the council. The final stage of purification is provided by circular filter beds. A bespectacled scientist looks at a sample of the now very light brown water in a glass lab flask. The effluent is finally discharged into the River Wandle 'considerably cleaner than the water already there'. The river is shady and tree lined - a picture of rural charm.

Back in the Town Hall the council is preparing for the 'ancient ceremony of Mayor Making'. The mace bearer, in scarlet jacket and white bow tie, and carrying the mace, leads the Mayor, the Mayor's Chaplain. the Aldermen and the Town Clerk, all in their robes of office into the council chamber, to their seats at the front. The councillors enter by another door in their 'more sober' robes, the two women councillors wearing black tri-corn hats. The mace bearer raps the gavel on the desk and announces prayers: ' a revered hush falls on the council chamber.' The chaplain in black gown and dog collar stands up, as does everyone else. Once prayers are finished, the chaplain closes his book and everyone sits down again.

The Mayor announces the election of a new Mayor and two of the Aldermen propose and second a candidate. The Mayor puts the proposal to the Council, Aldermen and Councillors, and by a show of hands it is accepted. The two Aldermen stand up and follow the mace bearer out of the chamber. Everyone waits. Then they all 'rise to their feet' as the the group comes back in with the Mayor Elect, in a black suit and lace jabot - he will get his robes later. First he must formally accept the office of Mayor, and he reads out the acceptance from a leather bound book. He puts the book down on the desk to sign his statement. A close up of the page shows what he has said and must sign, and the other signatories needed as witnesses . While this goes on the mace bearer is dressing the new Mayor up in this red robes of office, and 'deftly arranging the lace sabot'. The mace bearer then leads him behind the aldermen's chairs to the the Mayor's seat. There he takes the chain of office from the old mayor and puts it round the neck of the new one. A close-up, and the commentary, reveal that each link of the chain has the name and date of a former mayor and the badge, a blue double headed eagle on a white background in enamel encrusted with diamonds, is the coat of arms of Wimbledon. The Lady Mayoresses, both formally dressed, meanwhile sit in the middle of the front row of the councillors. The former Mayoress wears a fox fur cape over a mauve dress, with a pinkish brimmed hat with a flower and net veil. The new Mayoress wears a black coat and hat, with just touches of white trim at the neck and pocket. The mace bearer takes the chain of office from the former and put is round the neck of the new one. No one has smiled throughout the proceedings.

But now the old Mayor and the new shake hands and break into smiles. The picture fades, the jaunty music comes up again as the new Mayor starts to speak. The commentator hopes that the film has ' in some small way helped you know your borough'. And the film ends outside the Town Hall once more.