
London: Ken Dodd, one of Britain's most enduring comedians, has died at the age of 90 in the house in the Liverpool suburb of Knotty Ash that he had occupied all his life.
His trademark prop was a feather duster which he called his "tickling stick". There were also constant references to "diddy men".
He died on Sunday, his publicist Robert Holmes announced, with his wife, Anne Jones, with whom he had lived for 40 years but whom he married only on Friday, by his bedside.
He had left hospital on February 27 after a six-week stay for a chest infection.
"To my mind, he was one of the last music hall greats" Holmes summed up. "It's been my privilege to have looked after him for 47 years."
Among the thousands of tributes that poured in for the much loved comedian was one from poet Pam Ayres: "Thank you, Ken Dodd. One of my happiest memories is of taking my mum to see him in The New Theatre, Oxford, and seeing her laugh as I had never seen her laugh in my life."
Dodd, with his deliberate unruly hair and protruding teeth, had the gift for making his audience laugh before he had uttered a word.
His heyday was in the 1960s - in 1965 he had a 42-week run live at the London palladium.
His TV shows included The Ken Dodd Show, Beyond Our Ken and Ken Dodd's Laughter Show. He was also a gifted singer whose hits included Happiness in 1964, followed by Tears in 1965.
He was prosecuted and acquitted of tax fraud in 1989 but turned Liverpool Crown Court into sell-out theatre.
Unlike today's comedians, he never felt he had to resort to four-letter words in order to make an impact.
There were more of the old English variety: "I haven't spoken to my mother-in-law for 18 months. I don't like to interrupt her.
"Do I believe in safe sex? Of course I do. I have a handrail around the bed.
"My dad knew I was going to be a comedian. When I was a baby, he said, 'Is this a joke?'
"How do you make a blonde laugh on a Sunday? Tell her a joke on a Wednesday.
"How many men does it take to change a toilet roll? Nobody knows. It's never been tried. "Fifty-five years in show business, ladies and gentlemen. That's a hell of a long time to wait for a laugh."