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VISITING English comedian
24-year-old Bud Flanagan
says that his two favorite
comedians are his father (of
Flanagan and Allen) and
Danny Kaye.
"Mind you put my father down
first," he warned us. "More than
my life's worth if you don't."
Bud and his director (publicity
manager), Commander Derek
Castle, R.N., called to see us at the
office. Commander Castle was
originally Bud's schoolteacher.
Bud is thin, and not very tall. He
has dark hair and eyes, and when
we saw him was wearing an out-
rageously battered hat with a droop-
ing brim, a sports coat and trousers,
and brilliant tie vertically striped in
blue and white.
The school Bud went to in Hamp-
shire was called "The Hall." Both
teacher and pupil say, "It was
unique."
At "The Hall" Bud Flanagan made
his first stage appearance in "Toad
of Toad Hall."
"Not as Toad." said the com-
edian. "I was just a chorus rabbit,
hidden behind a mask. From then
on-from that wonderful start-I
went ahead with my career, until
you see me now before you. Just
now I'm so thin I look like a xylo-
phone with skin.
"Speaking of musical instru-
ments." he went on hurriedly. "I
can play any number. "Tiger Rag'
on a trumpet, boogie-woogie on a
harp (harpists hate me), the gramo-
phone, a barrel-organ, the piano,
tissuepaper and a comb, jew's harp,
and an elastic band. You can see
I'm talented."
During the war he spent some
time with E.N.S.A., and was in the
Navy in the sloops Pheasant and
Leith.
Invalided out of the Navy, Bud
Flanagan went to the United States
and appeared with Olsen and John-
son in their show, "Jerk Beserk."
Back in England he acted in three
films. "Here Comes the Sun." "We'll
Smile Again," and "Theatre Royal,"
and also came before the television
screen.
In Australia now, he has a 12
months' radio contract.
Things that impress him about
Australia are shell eggs (Bud says
he took one to the Museum to iden-
tify it) and the fact that dogs are
not allowed in trams.
"In England," said Bud and the
Commander, "you pay for your dog
and he's a tram passenger."
Sign their work
TN Africa the woman's touch is not
only in the home, but in the
goldmine.
At a goldfield in the Transvaal
where bores are being drilled, the
drills which bring up the cores have
diamond-studded crowns.
Some are made by a Rand firm
which employs women reputed to be
among the best in the world on this
sort of work.
So proud are some of the girls of
their handiwork that they engrave
their names on the matrix in which
the diamond splinters are set.
Watch the birdie
JTIGH-SPEED photography has
reached a fine art at the Lord
Mayor of Melbourne's holiday camp
for country children at Portsea.
Here, every week-end, along with
routine X-ray, medical, and dental
check-up, newcomers to camp have
their photographs taken at the rate
of three "customers" a minute.
Pictures are a free service to
parents given by Kodak.
A team of volunteers from the
firm, Mr. J. R. Morrison and his
wife. Miss Zoe Kitchen Kerr, and
Mr. David Blythe, have got person-
ality portraiture down to an
assembly-line job.
In a studio at the camp one books
the child in and gives it a number,
which is placed high over its head
for identification.
The second member of the team
diverts the child into a relaxed
mood, while the photographer ad-
justs the camera before suddenly
saying, "Give us a smile for Mum."
The job is over in ten seconds.
Fourth member of the team works
flat out loading and unloading films.
A portrait and the negative are
sent to parents a few days later.
Between November and April, when
the camp closes for winter, the team
will have taken 4000 portraits.
Mr. Morrison says that girls are
more self-conscious than boys before
the camera.
An engaging six-year-old re-
quested a specially beautiful pic-
ture as she intended coming back
the following year "to marry the
Lord Mayor!"
Camp for diabetics
I^OR a fortnight Tudor House,
Moss Vale, became a holiday
camp for 28 diabetic children.
With the children went a dietitian,
a nursing sister, two almoners, and
two V.A.'s.
The holiday, sponsored by the
Association for a Summer Camp for
Diabetic Children, was the fourth to
be held since the association was
formed four years ago.
Most of the children came from
clinics round the city, although a
few were private patients. At the
holiday camp they had plenty of
medical care and the precise amount
of correct food.
Miss Elaine Miatt, dietitian at
Sydney Hospital, said that normally
diabetic children are cared for in
their own homes. They can't go on
holidays to
boarding - houses,
for they can't
have the special
food they need. So
some of them be-
come rather pam-
pered, and apt to
think that no
others have their
complaint.
At the holiday
camp the children
learned to mix
with one another,
to play group
games like other
children, and to
have a wonderful
holiday that they
never have had
before.
The association
is purely charit-
able, and collects
funds through the
year for the chil-
dren's summer
holiday.
Chop bone disposal
CIR RALPH RICHARDSON, one of
Britain's most distinguished
actors, was interviewed in the B.B.C.
Overseas Service after returning
from making a film in Hollywood.
Some of the gadgets in American
homes were excitingly new to him.
He described the garbage disposer
in the house he lived in, saying:
"The drain in the sink is twice as
large as the average English sink
hole, and everything is put into it,
bones, scraps, and cartons. A thinii
under the sink grinds everything up
into powder. You can turn on the
tap and wash it all away as liquid.
"When I expressed surprise they
said, 'Well, what do you do with your
chop bones in England?'
"I said, 'Sir, in England we eat
our chop bones for supper-' "
* * *
A RESOURCEFUL girl-friend of
ours had trouble with a sus-
pender the other day, impressed us
by producing a bottle of aspirin and
replacing the lost suspender-button
with a tablet.
* * *
Greek heroine
\VHEN we met attractive Matilda
Kaloyeropoulou at the Greek
R.S.L. Club, Sydney, and talked to
her over a cup of thick sweet coffee,
it was hard to believe that she had
killed seven German paratroopers,
and was the first woman to be an
able seaman in the Greek merchant
marine
For Miss Kaloyeropoulou ls ex-
tremely feminine, with an animated
face, dark eyes, and black hair
parted in the middle and drawn
back in a bun.
She was wearing a navy-and
white dress, and when she gestured
with her hands we noticed that she
wore red nai: polish.
Through interpreter Mr. J. Rafto
poulos, secretary of the Greek Sub-
branch of the R.S.L.. we asked
Matilda Kaloyeropoulou how she had
taken up work as an able seaman.
We learned that she was brought
up on the island of Spetses, where
her people were farmers. Until the
war Matilda worked on the farm
and helped with the house.
In the war she helped Australian
and New Zealand troops to escape
from Greece to Crete by boat, and
then worked on an oil tanker.
Just now she is one of the crew
of the freighter Eptanissos. and does
everything that the rest of the crew
have to do.
She scrubs the decks, chips paint,
takes a turn at the wheel, and in
the evening spends hours learning
English from the captain's wife, Mrs.
E. Volanos.
Matilda turned to us and used
her English carefully. "We are like
sisters," she said. "She taught me
to count-one, two, three, four, five.
Hullo, good-bye."
When the ship calls in at ports in
countries ranging from Chile to Aus-
tralia, Matilda buys clothes and food
to pack and send home to her coun-
try.
Miss Kaloyeropoulou is the first
Greek woman to be welcomed as a
member of the Greek and Australian
R.S.L., and has the two badges care-
fully tucked away with the other
high decorations she has won. But
what she prizes most is the letter
written by the captain of the war-
time oil tanker.
"While the Greek people have such
women," he wrote, "our country will
never die."
Such fun!
TN one of Sydney's arcades there
ls a magician's shop, cluttered
with masks, sneezing powder, and
printed certificates for ear-bashers.
Stopping as usual to look in the
window, we saw a package guar-
anteed to make you a hit at any
party.
Having bought the package you
hurry to the kitchen at your hostess'
home, and drop the contents to the
floor. This is guaranteed "to make
the sound of a window breaking, or
the sound of china crashing to the
floor.'1
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