John Gibson: A tribute to the wee Sparrow

You could hear them singing in the grain. Sparrows. There used be a lot of them about, as I recall, getting fat on the overspill from lorries supplying the whisky bonds in and around Leith.

Much preferred to the gulls and the pigeons. The stuttering campaign to have them outlawed goes on. Some day, see you later defecators.

At least one sparrow will prevail in Leith a week tonight. In the former Daniel's bistro, new owner Jean Michel Gauffre is promoting a sell-out Evening with Edith Piaf to celebrate Bastille Day. The dinner cabaret will star Christine Bovil as Edith Piaf, once a national heroine in France, known for her singing as the "Little Sparrow".

Jean Michel owns up: "Christine's not French. She's a Weegie with a French accent. Just in case anybody tries to get us with the trade descriptions."

Knee bother

Us men, we've troubles enough of our own, so don't bother us. Women's troubles? Still with them and we're going to keep on hearing about them. They won't ever go away.

As if there aren't hassles enough, 21st century ladies are plagued with "cankles'' (thick ankles) and now it's ''ninkles'' (wrinkles around the knees, or elderly knees syndrome).

Trust me, dears, I'm not a doctor but now that you haven't sought my advice, you're getting it anyway. Make the most of what our maker's given you, get on with it and Bob's your cankle.

Afterwords . .

. . . If all the cucumber sandwiches devoured at the Holyrood garden shindig on Tuesday were laid end to end they'd stretch from here to Kabul. With enough left over for John Simpson to snaffle a few.