She had asked her dad, in her piping, childlike tones, if 'a million billion fafillion' people lived in the city. He had said 'not quite', but that she was 'pretty close' and this had made her smile.

I will be compering for next week's Village Fete.

I love it when you call me señorita

To all the earth she gives the soft glad-eye; She picks no fav′rits in this world o′ men; She peeps in nooks, where ′appy lovers sigh, To make their joy more bonzer still; an′ then, O′er Spadger′s Lane she waves a podgy ′and, An′ turns the scowlin′ slums to Fairyland.