King of the one-liners

The cigar-chomping comedian and wit celebrated his 100th birthday six weeks ago and after that final public fanfare of press reports and documentaries, he left the world stage, following his cigar smoke, curling upwards.

Plans for his long-promised 100th birthday shows in Las Vegas, where he was a regular for decades, had been cancelled as Burns's health declined. A triple by-pass at 78 gave him another 22 years, perhaps his most productive, including an Oscar-winning movie and thousands of one-man shows, but 18 months ago a fall broke his hip, and signalled a steady decline.

His 100th birthday was spent, not among the glitz of Vegas, but at his home of 60 years in Beverly Hills with his family.

When asked for a birthday wish, he remained a practical wit. ``What do you give a man who has been so blessed? Another 100 years, a night with Sharon Stone?'' He would have taken the latter.

His son, Ronnie, was by his side at 4.30 on Saturday morning when his body quivered and his breathing became shallow. The doctor arrived shortly afterwards. Burns died one hour later leaving celebrities, punters, and even a president to remember a genius of timing the short gag, of holding an audience spellbound, of being short and very, very, old.

President Clinton, who could probably use a laugh at the moment, billed him as ``one of the great entertainers of all time''. He added: ``He enabled us to see humour in the toughest of times and laugh together as a nation. We will miss him greatly.''

Sir Peter Ustinov said: ``When you're still active at 100 you have an Olympian humour, and that is very true of Burns. He was unique. I expected him to go on forever.''

Comedian Tom O'Conner described Burns as a ``pioneering comedian'' and went on to praise Burns's style. He was one of the first comics to wear a tuxedo during his act. ``He was also the first to use general conversation as a basis for his comedy.''

Frankie Vaughan said: ``He was absolutely sensational. They will never be another one like him.''

Film director Michael Winner said: ``He was showbiz.''

``My father should have been a watchmaker, the kids came like clockwork.''

Burns was born Nathan Birnbaum at 95 Pitt Street, on New York's Lower East Side, in 1896. He was ninth in a family of 12, graced with seven sisters and four brothers. His father, a synagogue cantor, died when he was six and shortly after, Nathan became George. His second name was stolen, along with the coal he and his brothers swiped from the Burns Brothers' trucks.

His first professional appearance was at age 12 with a group of kids from the area who named themselves the Peewee Quartet. They would perform on river boats moored along the Hudson.

It was customary for the audience to throw coins at the kids, with some throwing a little too hard, so George would dive in the drink to retrieve them. ``It got so I could only sing with water in my mouth,'' Burns quipped years later.

Burns never sank. He would always swim. As he grew he developed as a dancer becoming an instructor and setting up the Bernstein and Burns Dancing School in Brownsville. Vaudeville and a ballroom dancing act soon followed. Burns married his dance partner Hannah Siegel, for social propriety, during a 36-week tour. The marriage ended with the tour. Siegel, who hated her husband, would later use his name on the back of Burns's success.

It was at the Hill Street Theatre, Newark, New Jersey in 1922, that Burns met Gracie Allen, the love of his life and partner on stage and off for more than 45 years.

``Offstage I used to make Gracie laugh. She'd wake me at 3am and say: `George I can't sleep, make me laugh.' So I'd make love to her . . . and she laughed.''

In 1929, George Burns and Gracie Allen appeared at the Glasgow Empire with their act, Dizzy After Gracie. They had married in 1926 in Cleveland. During the four years since they first met, love and a comic duo blossomed, with Gracie leading the laughs and Burns reacting to her antics. The tour of the UK involved the London Palladium and a 26-week radio series.

Their American radio career began appropriately on a CBS show, The Robert Burns Panatela Programme. They appeared in a series of Hollywood comedy shorts as well as movies such as The Big Broadcast made in 1936.

They also appeared in the film musical of George Gershwin's A Damsel In Distress. Burns was never handsome enough to be a Hollywood leading man, yet their careers thrived on stage and radio. At their peak their shows attracted 45 million listeners, earning the pair $9000 a week. It is hard now knowing Burns as a star under his own spotlight to appreciate how much Gracie dominated the show. An Oklahoma newspaper once said: ``There's no telling how far Gracie would go - if she worked alone.''

Burns did not have a high regard for critics, whom he described as ``eunuchs at a gang bang''. The couple's highest achievement was with the TV series The Burns And Allen Show, before Gracie's retirement in 1958.

In 1975, Burns's fakery won him an Oscar for his first film in 30 years. In Neil Simon's The Sunshine Boys, he starred as an old Vaudeville comedian.

It was a role he was comfortable with as after Gracie's retirement - she died in 1964 - he played Las Vegas and big city concert halls where he carved a role as a raconteur, wielding his cigar like a pointer, flicking ash wherever he liked. However, it was his Oscar and the subsequent publicity that pushed him up, through the clouds.

His final movie was a body-swap farce entitled 18 Again, yet Burns will not be remembered as a movie actor, but a star of the stage who revelled in his old age.

Curtains across the country would open to reveal Burns, cigar in hand beginning to dispense his own particular elixir of life. ``Drink three martinis a day, smoke lots of cigars, and make love four times a week, but most of all it is in the genes. I never wear them too tight.''

He remained on stage till he was 98. ``I'm doing better now with the 18-year-olds than when I was 18.''

His funeral service is planned for tomorrow in Los Angeles, where he will be buried beside his beloved wife. When asked for an epitaph for his tombstone, Burns replied: ``The only epitaph I want on my tombstone is: `I'd like to be standing here reading it.' ''

The millions of fans of a funny man, who was always sharp but rarely vulgar, will remember an earlier, more ironic line.

``I was brought up to respect my elders. Now there's no-one left to respect.''

One of the great entertainers of all time . . . his sense of timing and captivating smile touched the hearts and funny bones of more than three generations

President Clinton

The greatest comedian of all time

Fellow comedian Jackie Mason

I think we've lost a heavyweight, an icon. There will never be another one like George Burns . . . he is probably in heaven speaking to St Peter and doing one-liners.

Milton Berle, comedian and television pioneer

When he went this morning, he thought: `I did it right up to the last minute with my boots on.' That's every actor's wish.

Actress Carol Channing