The media can be pardoned for casting a sceptical eye on the Tung Chee-hwa-Anson Chan relationship. So does at least one provisional legislator. The longtime member watched, intrigued, as policy secretaries responded to a signal from Financial Secretary Donald Tsang Yam-kuen calling them to his table, seemingly to propose a toast to the Chief Secretary for Administration at the farewell banquet for interim legislators. 'It's so odd that they ignored the chief executive . . . They did not propose a toast to Tung,' he said. Speculation about the uneasy ties between Mr Tung and his top aides was fuelled further by the quiet early exit of Mrs Chan and Mr Tsang, ostensibly without notifying their boss. Asked about the episode, a senior official claimed the legislator was too sensitive, explaining: 'It was quite chaotic at the time. Suddenly, Donald rose and sent an eye signal to some policy secretaries to come over. We got the message and gathered around his table. Anson was at the same table. We then started a round to toast different tables. 'Yes. Both Anson and Donald left earlier. I was about to leave but stayed until the end after I saw Tung was still there.' Officials may deny a rift, but actions speak louder than words. Here's another mystery, this time from the 'Would-be Writer's Diary' in the English page of Ming Pao on Wednesday. Entitled 'Learning through Singing', it reads: 'When Rita said we would learn English through singing, I thought that wasn't a bad idea. But when she had explained her lyrics to us, I couldn't open my mouth. 'Oh my beloved SAR, Oh my beloved land. Tung Chee-hwa is our great leader who is powerful as a tank . . .' 'She got more and more excited as she led our singing. But I saw many classmates shivering as they were singing the song. I knew I would throw up if I forced myself to sing it. So I just mimed.' As the piece isn't signed, there's no way of knowing the full identity of 'Rita'. RTHK have a programme called Learning Through Singing for people wishing to master Putonghua, but no English equivalent. So somewhere in Hong Kong there's a lady locked in a revolutionary time warp, trying to bring out the Red Guard in Hong Kong's youngsters, apparently oblivious to the fact that comparing Mr Tung to a tank might ruffle local sensibilities, even among his most ardent fans. Whoever could it be? Executive Councillor Anthony Leung Kam-chung has not impressed the Hong Kong public with his advice to the jobless to try their luck in the mainland. With millions there staring unemployment in the face as state industries are run down, Hong Kong's laid-off workers probably have a better chance of getting the dole from Mr Tung than carving out a new career across the border. Mr Leung, who rose from humble beginnings to managing director of Chase Manhattan Bank before becoming chairman of the Education Commission, also reminded citizens to consider accepting lower pay when necessary. It may be good advice, but it's hard to swallow from someone so well-cushioned from the discomforts of the economic slowdown. In China, even the country's 500,000 journalists are worried about jobs as the 2,160 newspapers are drastically cut back due to structural reform in the profession. Newspapers here have recruited increasing numbers of reporters from the mainland, but their news organisations are closed to outsiders. Maybe the SAR could profit by a swap of Executive Councillors? With mainland rates for those going over to Beijing, of course.