Tom Pratt complained about the poor timekeeping of clocks in Kendal (Letters, March 2, 'Time to sort out clocks').

In today's world we are obsessed by time. It has to be recorded or displayed to the nearest mini-second.

It was not always so. Way back in time our days and activities were governed by the sun. It began and ended the day.

We were called to prayer at the church by the ringing of the bell.

Even when clocks were becoming more common on public buildings Kendalians listened for the Time Gun to begin the lunch break.

Time in Kendal was different from that in towns and villages elsewhere in the country. Each had its own time.

The traveller by mail coach from London to Plymouth found time on arrival to be 20 minutes later than in London. With the coming of the railways a standard time became essential, so by the 1850s 'railway time' was introduced, it being 'London time' equating to Greenwich Mean Time.

In Kendal, the clock projecting from the Moot Hall over Stricklandgate was a notoriously bad time-keeper and, when the Corporation moved to the town hall, it was presented to St Thomas's Church - perhaps hoping that divine control would improve matters.

When the old library was demolished in 1909 and the stonework was used to build the frontage in Sandes Avenue, the clock was incorporated in it. It, too, fails to keep the right time.

In the grounds of the Brewery Arts Centre stands the Leyland Clock, which came from the A6 by the Jungle Cafe. Attempts have been made to get it into full running order but failed. At least it tells the right time twice in each 24 hours.

Really, how often does it matter whether our clocks tell the precise, exact time?

If they are a few minutes fast we might hae more time to catch a train or bus or even escape overstaying our parking time.

If they are slow, it is out fault if we rely on them.

Anyway, we have our mobile phones to give us the right time so we don't need public clocks.

Arthur R. Nicholls

Kendal