And again, luvvie, with less passion

AS the hunt goes on for Britain's national bird, a reader proposes the dunnock for the honour. He says this little bird, also known as the hedge sparrow, represents the British character because "she mates with several suitors so that they all think the offspring are theirs. Then she reaps the benefits while all these little suitors work their little feathers off to keep her family." I detect a note of bitterness.

AS I remarked a few days ago, chancellors of the Exchequer have a habit of taking money out of one of your trouser pockets while putting it in the other. Someone has to pay for all last week's largesse and if you look around the office you'll see the losers with their heads in their hands. They are the company-car drivers, stung once again on the taxable value of their motors, way above the rate of inflation. No-one ever speaks up for them.

THERE'S not much joy or fairness for motorists in the legal system either. Police Interceptors (C5) showed us that if you deliberately shoplift five sledges from a supermarket you get a fixed-penalty fine of £80 for theft, but if you drive using a number plate with the wrong style of lettering, the fine is £100.

I SUGGESTED a few days ago that some families might be terrified at the prospect of a pardon for dead relatives who were convicted under homosexual indecency laws 50 years ago. Every family has its secrets and Labour's plan to let friends of the deceased apply for a pardon - and make it public - is a can of worms. A reader disagrees, thundering: "If a dead man's family wishes to hide the fact that they had a homosexual family member and that he was cruelly and wrongfully persecuted by the police and the justice system, then they are suffering from the same mental illness as Peter Rhodes appears to suffer from: they are homophobes and their attitude is disgraceful." So if you're at all embarrassed about Uncle Arthur hanging around public lavatories in the old days, you must be mentally ill. Always good to hear the liberal view, isn't it?

YES, I know we are supposed to feel thrilled, awed and privileged. So am I the only one who finds eclipses scary?

I COULD understand people looking at Ye Great Eclipse through filters, pin-hole cameras and in buckets of water. But I was a bit puzzled by folk standing out of doors and watching it on their smartphones.

PUZZLED, too, by a very serious-looking lady who was photographing the eclipsed sun, using flash.

WHEN an interviewee on the radio doesn't want to be identified for personal or legal reasons, we are used to the introduction: "Their words are spoken by an actor." Until recently, that's exactly what the actor did, simply reading the words off the script. But lately I've heard a couple of performances worthy of an Oscar. A few days ago on Radio 4 the actor put on a mock Yorkshire accent and punctuated the script with little gasps of despair, dramatic pauses and bitter, half-ironic laughs. It was like hearing someone auditioning for Ophelia at Stratford. Maybe somebody should have a word with these voice-over artistes. There are times, luvvie, when we just want the words, not a tour de force.

AN EU survey reveals that the Irish are among the happiest people in Europe. Well, of course they are. They've got such wonderful neighbours.