THEY came in flocks, he came in frocks, bringing his saucy, seaside humour to the heart of the city.

Danny La Rue stands head and shoulders above most British troupers - even without the 3in heels. He is

a true original. His glamour

is more genteel than that of

the Carry on Girls but not quite Hollywood.

He made female impersonation an acceptable art form long before we learned the bitterness which unleashed grotesques such as Lily Savage.

Danny La Rue is no drag queen. His creations are ladies - they have elegance

(tempered with a sly wink and quick nudge-nudge) and are never tarty.

And how the audience loved him. This is variety in the great British tradition - familiar to those whom settled down to The Good Old Days on a Sunday evening.

His performance was part of a show presented by the

Hiss & Boo Company established to recreate the days of the musichall.

It may be that my idea of humour was formed as a teenager in the politically correct 1980s, but it seemed that ''good old-fashioned variety'' also gives licence to have a pop at anyone who doesn't stand when God Save the Queen is played.

I wasn't robust enough for some of the jokes. There's nothing gentle about the humour here, no concessions to the fat, the foreign, or the drunken husband. But I was surrounded by guffawing twin sets of steel.

The audience were largely of an age whose theatre-going days included the Five Past Eight Show in Scotland's variety heyday. The support acts gave them good value, particularly comedienne Lizzie Wiggins.

This is nostalgia which finds a natural home at the King's - very much a theatre for everyman. The Hiss & Boo Company has shown that there is still an audience for the variety spectacular. For one night those who pined for it did not have to travel to Blackpool to find it.