GRACE Clark, one of Scotland's legends in comedy, has died in a

nursing home at Ayr, aged 90.

Born in Yoker, she was a concert pianist who emerged as a bill-topping

comedienne, partnering her late husband, Colin Murray, in the music hall

and variety theatre double act of Clark and Murray at theatres in

Scotland, Belfast, and the Isle of Man.

Grace met Colin when both were solo acts -- she a pianist, he a singer

-- in a summer season at Dunbar in 1926.

Their act switched from music to laughter when Grace realised she

could win laughs playing the tough, tyrant wife in cross-talk with a

long-suffering husband.

The twosome were awarded the British Empire Medal in 1982 and had

appeared at several Royal performances in Glasgow.

Comedian and actor Jimmy Logan said yesterday: ''Grace and Colin wrote

a wonderful page in the history of Scottish theatre. They were the best

of 100% family entertainment.

''On stage, audiences saw Grace putting Colin in his place as a

martyred husband. In real life they lived for each other, and Grace was

lost after Colin died.''

Grace's mother did not believe in people who were not married

travelling around in showbusiness together, claiming it ''wasn't

decent'', but she relented to the extent of allowing the young couple to

do their act, then travel after the show to their respective homes. She

later allowed them to work outside Glasgow -- but only if they had a

chaperone.

Their domestic comedy was so popular with audiences in the 1950s that

they were labelled ''Mr and Mrs Glasgow''.

A near classic sketch was their Bus Stop, with Colin being harangued

by an over-talkative Grace for his behaviour at a social visit. ''Aye,

yer mither!'' she would exclaim, launching into a general dissection of

his character.

In 50 years together on stage, Clark and Murray worked alongside many

of the greats in music hall, among them Sir Harry Lauder, Will Fyffe,

Tommy Lorne, and Harry Gordon.

Grace Clark lived in retirement at Doonfoot, near Ayr. Like so many

entertainers, she did not take easily to leaving the bright lights. Like

so many others in her profession, she was extremely sensitive about

revealing her age.

Once, after a certain figure had been published, she wrote a friendly

letter to The Herald, pointing out that theatrical people should keep to

the old adage: ''There are two things a performer should never reveal --

ages and wages.''