He's a natural comedian, ambling on and holding court with a string of celebrity stories, blue gags and beery reminiscences - even though, these days, he's teetotal, he retains the hail-fellow-well-met bonhomie of the habitual drunkard.

The business of being a funnyman seems to come very easily to him. Tonight's set appears unplanned, ad hoc, drawn on the hoof from a repertoire as extensive as his years on the stage.

He introduces his support act, a young local lad called Chris Foster who, surreally, combines dressing in a leopard costume for no apparent reason with simple acoustic guitar-accompanied comic ballads about homely topics including Morecambe, Dale Winton on a Columbine-style spree and falling down the gap between the train and the platform.
But Arthur's the star. He might describe himself as a "semi-professional comedian," but he's an old stager to his boots.

He ad-libs faultlessly while reading out hastily penned slips of paper from the audience on the subject of "I am grumpy because…" and expertly deflects the few gentle heckles that come his way.

A library is an odd backdrop for a man like him who might seem so much more suited to some smoky old pub.

But it works - and, as Arthur draws to a close with a poignant poem about his old dad, it's clear that Lancaster Library's award-winning team has scored another triumph.

Judith Dornan