Every evening, like tinkling rain, the charming sounds of a delicately plucked guitar can be heard drifting through the wards and corridors of the King Edward VII Memorial Hospital.

Amid the clatter of food trolleys, flickering televisions, babbling visitors, and general bustle, the music falls as a refreshing balm. Incapable of offending by its very gentleness, it soothes the soul even as it uplifts the spirits.

Which is precisely what the man behind the music, Mr. Denny Richardson, intends.

What started out as a random act of kindness on special holidays many years ago has now grown into a daily gift intended to bring pleasure to the sick and suffering along the monotonous corridors.

"Most of the people find it refreshing and uplifting because they have been lying there all day, and aside from the fact that they have TV and radio, my music just seems to make a difference in how their day is ending,'' Mr.

Richardson explains. "I seem to bring some element of comfort to any pain and suffering they might otherwise have.'' Indeed, he believes that music is something that "calms the beast in all of us'', and with the right beat and tone touches an inner part of us which would otherwise get out of control.

Playing strictly by ear -- he can't read music -- the self-taught guitar player draws from a repertoire of approximately 100 hymns as well as popular tunes. With his own father a patient on the third floor, he often tries out a new piece on him first and, depending on the initial response, will then practise it a few more times before taking it to the wards.

"I believe that music is the one thing that transcends and survives all other means of communication,'' he says. "It seems to me that if you close your eyes and listen to even the hymns, like `His Eye is on the Sparrow' or `I Come to the Garden Alone', these pieces evoke such a deep spiritual feeling that when I play them to the patients I can almost feel the air thickening between us as we communicate.'' Although he is a member of Marsden Methodist church, and sings in its men's choir, Mr. Richardson takes an ecumemical approach to his religious selections.

"When we were growing up, and especially as teenagers, we visited many other churches and listened to the music, so I have selected my music to cover just about every religion,'' he explains.

Growing up with brothers Wilbur, Neville (now deceased), Cranfield and Elton, and sisters Iris and Mavis, the Richardson children were exposed to musical evenings from an early age.

"Mother played the piano and sang all the time, and as kids we would gather around and sing with her,'' the guitar player recalls. "She didn't have to ask us, we thought it was just a nice thing to do. Daddy would also join us.

He played the musical saw, which was an unusual instrument, and we always had musical instruments ourselves.'' But it was the gift of a 25-year-old ukelele to nine-year-old Denny from his aunt, Helen Wainwright, that sparked the lad's interest in learning stringed instruments.

"My aunt had a lot of confidence that one day I would play it, so I bought an (instruction) book and my mother helped me with the chords because she could play the ukelele herself,'' Mr. Richardson remembers. "It was quite a nice instrument for a boy.'' Indeed, the ukelele became the lad's pride and joy, and he took great care of it, eventually using some of his odd-job money as a high school student to have a special protective case made for it.

"I still have the ukelele and its case today, and and every now and then I take it out and play it,'' he says proudly. "To me, at 75 years old it is a collector's item. It is very special, and I cherish it very much and never let it out of my sight.'' Noting that such an item would not normally have outlasted the traditional rough treatment of childhood, Mr. Richardson attributes the instrument's survival to "something within me as a child that said `Let's not be destructive' ''.

Always interested in community service, Mr. Richardson sees no problem with moving on to his daily stints as a strolling player at the hospital following his duties as assistant facilities manager at the West End Development Corporation, and he is genuinely puzzled when people ask him: "How can you go down to the hospital with all those sick people?'' "I say to them, `How can you not go there, because your going may help to make someone feel better and get well?' '' he relates.

"It is nothing for me to spend two to four hours at the hospital because I have 24 hours in my day, and two weekend hours is less than ten percent. I believe if we can give our ten percents in different ways to different people whom we see, in the end it will definitely make a difference in their lives.

Certainly it would manifest itself in a positive way as to how we see and treat each other from day to day. I feel privileged to come and share this time.'' A patient once asked him, "Does your wife mind you coming here every day?'', but he is proud to say that his Constance not only does not mind, but supports him fully.

In any case, Mr. Richardson feels that his playing at the hospital is the result of being propelled by a greater force tham himself, and also fulfills the scriptures.

"There comes a time in people's lives when they are visited by a force greater than themselves, and they get directed,'' he says. "I believe that the force which drives me comes from God.

"I am not a musician, and I can't even consider myself a guitar player in the same sense of such greats as Segovia, but I do believe, as I have been taught from the Bible, that God gives us talents and he expects us to use them. He never tells us where, when, why, how, or to whom. He just points you in a direction.'' Certainly there is no doubt in Mr. Richardson's mind that, were his mother alive today, she would be very happy with his mission.

"One of her favourite songs, which comes back to me although I haven't played it the hospital yet because I haven't gotten around to it, is: `Others, Lord, yes others, let this my motto be, help me to live for others that I may live for Thee.

" `And when my work on earth is done and my new work in heaven has begun, may I not forget the crown I have won while thinking still of others'.'' `It is nothing for me to spend two to four hours at the hospital because I have 24 hours in my day, and two weekend hours is less than ten percent. I believe if we can give our ten percents in different ways to different people whom we see, in the end it will definitely make a difference in their lives.'