1922-11-16, English, Article, Journal or magazine article edition: A WOMAN'S LETTER ROGER & GALLET Porfuman Soaps Powders (16 November 1922)

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A WOMAN'S LETTER ROGER & GALLET Porfuman Soaps Powders (16 November 1922)
 
Bookmark: https://trove.nla.gov.au/version/258073357
Physical Description
  • 3174 words
  • article
  • photo
  • Journals
  • Magazines
Published
  • xna, John Haynes and J.F. Archibald, 1922-11-16
Language
  • English

Edition details

Title
  • A WOMAN'S LETTER ROGER &​ GALLET Porfuman Soaps Powders (16 November 1922)
Appears In
  • The bulletin., v.43, no.2231, 1922-11-16 (ISSN: 0007-4039)
Published
  • xna, John Haynes and J.F. Archibald, 1922-11-16
Physical Description
  • 3174 words
  • article
  • photo
  • Journals
  • Magazines
Series
Part Of
  • The bulletin.
  • Vol. 43 No. 2231 (16 Nov 1922)
  • John Ryan Comic Collection (Specific issues).
Subjects
Summary
  • A WOMAN'S LETTER ROGER &​ GALLET Porfuman Soaps Powders Cricketer Archie Maclaren, and Mrs. Maclaren laren are to be the guests of his Ex. and Dame Margaret Davidson at Government House during their stay in Sydney. About the time the cricketers are here the G.-G. and Lady Forster will come to Sydney, and Dame Margaret will /​put them up, too. The author of “Simon Called Peter” gave a lecture at Sydney Protestant Hall, last week, partly in the interests of his book sales, partly to help St. Margaret’s Maternity Hospital. It purported to be a discussion on Modern Marriage, but turned out to be a plea for divorce. By 8 o’clock the queue outside the gallery entrance was as long as a .first-night waiting list at Her Majesty’s. Nice old ladies In depressed millinery and black-cotton; glofyes waited sedately, though Heaven knows what part hims, ancient or modern, could play in their philosophy of life. Young married men and women were there, a few grandfathers, heaps of flappers of a mellow vintage, and a sprinkling of that type of young man who looks as though he is not afraid to face the problem of Sex —you know the kind; he sings “The Indian Love Lyrics,” and accompanies himself with impressment pressment and the wrong bass on the boarding-house ing-house piano. It was a wonderful lecture. ture. Mr. Keable held the boards and said nothing eloquently, to the accompaniment of isosceles triangular arm movements, for the space °f am Four or so; while his chairman and George, Fitzpatrick, the organiser of the hospital cainpaign, tried to register appreciation tion of the' young man’s highly irregular views, even: though each was conscious that the wife of his bosom was in the front row. Not so the Albert Gould knight. With one gasp of horror he fled from the platform before the lecture was 10 minutes old. His voice, raised in protestation, could be heard from the back of the stage, but diplomacy got him into a taxi before he could rush forward ward to offer testimony to the sacred ties. As a lecture the speech hadn’t much holdingpower, power, but as a quick settlement of St. Margaret’s garet’s milk bill it was a winner hands down. And it is bound to sell a number of Mr. Keable’s novels. The big flutter at Singleton during the week was the permanent linking of Mollie, daughter of the Dick Dangars, of Neotsfield, to Denis Allen, only son of the Arthur Allens, of Merioola. When the bride turned up at the village church of All Saints’ she was mostly diamonds, where she wasn’t cloth of silver, all the “in-laws” having apparently rently showered her with gems. Joan Dowling ing bridesmaided in yellow georgette, and small Billy Bourke and Dick Austin did the page act in frilled linen suits of the same hue. The wedding toasts were drunk in a marquee on the lawp of the bride’s home by family friends and relations, hosts of whom journeyed neyed all the way from Sydney for the knottying. tying. In the freshening breeze and sun of Thursday day afternoon the big decks of the Narkunda kunda made themselves pleasant for the kiddies who came to its party. There were slides and Punch and Judy and Aunt Sally for the delight of the little ones, while the more sophisticated were supplied with intoxicating toxicating flashes of jazz. Rose Merivale and Mrs. Jimmie Burns engineered the function, tion, which was to help the Dame Margaret Appeal for the Rawson Institute, and Mrs. Waley, with a flutter of summer girls in attendance, looked after the fascinating branpie. pie. Roy de Mestre, Mr. Blandy and Captain Green were amongst the few males present, and his Ex. made a fourth for a fleeting space. Dame Margaret was there, and brought her two girleens and Miss Henderson. Mayoress McElhone chaperoned another group of small children, and surgeon MacCormick’s sweet-looking wife was another hostess. Mary, Dinah and Anthony Hordern made an attractive group, as did the Rundle children. dren. Madge Cox and Grant Hanlon had a hand in affairs generally; and Mrs. Oscar Paul was one of the deck attractions among the grown-ups. Just gone out in her prime, Kate Armstrong, strong, of the Richmond River (N.S.W.) a fine horsewoman both at rough work aiid in the ring, who will be particularly missed at the Shows. Owning a half share in Disputed puted Plains station, she bred, trained and rode her own show jumpers, and scored a remarkable string of successes. The district gave her a unique send-off at Casino. Her horse Pretender was swathed in all the show ribbons she had won in the last 25 years, and the jockeys from all the racing stables escorted her with the colors up to the cemetery. Her brother and partner died recently, , but her sister Maggie, a second edition of herself, will keep up the family reputation for hospitality and the prestige of Disputed Plains in the show-ring. Among the recent matrimonial knots tied by Canon Bellingham w T as that by which Lancelot Nisbet, of Staumore, nephew of Sii 1 Richard and Lady Fry, of London, and Lily Atkinson, of the same suburb, were hiottt'eu together for life. Lily is grfe&​fc-granddaughter daughter of Sir John Atkinson (one of the Old Black Watch) and grand-daughter of John Horne, of Glehcairne estate (Vic.). One of the new playing fields of the Sydney ney Grammar is named the Weigall Memorial, morial, in honor of the famous old headmaster, master, and to raise funds to complete the laying-out of the field, the school and its friends arranged a fair in the new grounds in Rushcutter’s cutter’s Bay. The Fuller lady did the opening, supported by a gorgeous armful of roses. All the usual stalls were scattered about the green, and of these the lucky packet and the cigarette stands were the speediest traders —all the summer-frocked young things drifted to the smokes as inevitably tably as they afterwards tracked down the ice-cream and the dancing in the pavilion— the jazz music for which, by the way, was transmitted by wireless. Gertrude Lewis (who was Gertrude Tait) is back in Sydney, more assured than ever that there’s no place like Australia for the Australians. Mrs. Lewis has seen post-war London, where Beatrice Grimshaw is holding her own, lecturing ahd writing, mostly on “Cannibals t Hav'6 Met, but Who Have Not Made Meat of Me.” In New York she met Randolph Bedford, ford, looking very prosperous but terribly homesick. America doesn’t want Australian writers—the big people won’t look at their stuff, and only an occasional small agent will handle it. But here’s something for the Feminist Club to ponder-. Illith Taylor, schoolteacher, then barrister, quite attractive tive and somewhere in the late twenties, has, against great male opposition, been elected Judge of the Westchester County Children’s Court, at a salary of 17,500 dollars a year. She had a majority of 30,000 votes; and it was the women’s vote that put her in. Westchester chester is the county where only millionaires grow, so the poor lady is likely to die of ennui, for, of course, there’ll be no juvenile criminals in that neighborhood. Mrs. Maclurcan the other evening entertained tained her staff and their friends in the ballroom room at the Wentworth Cafd amid the gorgeous geous decorations from the Rose Ball and the strains of the Wentworth jazz band. There was supper, and a temporary staff was engaged to wait on the guests. Mrs. Maclurcan lurcan said that she couldn’t run the business ness but for the staff, and they assured her that she was their best friend. When a hall porter spoke of how Mrs. Mac. had gathered her flock together to give them a good time that lady fairly beamed, and when that same gent., in immaculate evening dress, showing a wide expanse of shirt front, danced with his hostess, a cobber remarked, “Don’t William look as if he were in Heaven.” A tall, slender aristocratic-looking chef made a speech that was almost as good as his cooking. Herewith Florence Yates, the Northern Rivers’ girl who, the other evening, raised a rich contralto voice massaged to the last degree of mellowness and flexibility by Mary Campbell, of the Melbourne Conservatorium. She has also had the advantage of Nellie Melba’s own tuition, and the diva said so many pleasant things about her voice that she is off to Europe under Mary Campbell’s bell’s guidance next year. Her recital at aur Conservatorium was a welter of youth—the only performer former with the weight _of years upon his shoulders being Charlie Smythe, and he’s scarcely at the tottering tering stage. A small boy named Berry proved to possess an extensive violin repertoire, which he dispensed pensed with a dashing and impartial air; and Ernest Archer breathed tenor love sighs while 11. C. Crellin looked after the accompaniments. paniments. A tower of strength to the R. A. Historical cal Society is 11. Selkirk, who recently retired from the Lands Department and is spending much of his time in his beautiful garden at Killara. Here numbers of tall blue-gums raise their trunks from a carnet net of delicate maiden-hair and the stronger bracken fern. He grows most things, but specialises in daffodils— he has some thousands of them, and by artificial fertilisation has created new sorts. He must have the patience of Job, for it takes seven years before the seeds become mature plants. Selkirk put ill much time at the Historical Exhibition, and took his turn as showman. He interested Dame Margaret in Cohrad Martens; stli'd his artist daughter Mefebbtk ' Wh'd, wias represented sented by Several ,Wdrkk. The daffodilgrower grower ffhii .Becky Martens had been playmffttes mffttes iff their youth. It was Selkirk, by the way, who unearthed the little-known Conrad Martens depicting Admiral King’s funeral in ’56, which attracted much attention at the exhibition. Dorothy Howell-Price, who is to be married shortly, lost three of her brothers on service with the A.I.F. One became a Colonel and another a Major, and all were men of phenomenal bravery. The lucky man is Keith Bentzen, of Ashfield. Word from London _ tells that Florence Smithson, whose bird-lilte notes are pleasantly antly remembered by Australian audiences, has met with a nasty misadventure. While fufilling an engagement at Blackpool, she slipped on a staircase at the Hippodrome and sustained a serious injury to her spine. She was brought back to her London home, and carried in an ambulance through the streets of the great city where she has so frequently figured as an entertainer. All her engagements ments have been postponed indefinitely. This is ff receiit photograph by Monte Luke Of Walter Baker, who in the days when iheiouratna waS a power in the land saved many an innocent nocent che-ild from the clutches of sneering villainy as Bland Holt’s leading juvenile. I-Ie hais retired from the boards, but the old habits persist, and last week he moved spine of the theatrical firms to fury, and others to cold scorn, by proclaiming that the conditions under which they make poor but virtuous girls and trusting che-ildren work are a b o minable. Mr. Baker’s grim al'legations tions are inevitably discounted, not only by his romantic temperament, which drives him to sympathise with the indigent wherever ever found, but also by the fact that he is president of the Actors’ Federation of Australia. tralia. Still, there is a vague general idea that there “may be a good deal in it ail,” and that “a man like Baker ought to know, anyhow.” All of which presages added conn fort for the classes he is championing during ing the coming panto season. Mrs. McDonald not only handed over the pretty grounds about the Palace Hotel at Watson's Bay In the cause of St. Margaret’s garet’s one afternoon last week, but also gave the tea-and-cake end of the party, to which large slabs of Vaucluse and Watson’s Bay womankind turned up. There was a fortune-teller in a grove of mystery contrived trived of greenery and the Union Jack; but there was neither orchestra nor raffle, the first because of some archaic by-law which forbids mhsic in front of licensed premises, and the second in fulfilment of the Bavin dictum, _ Mayor Mclntyre and his lady flung the civic mantle about the afternoon, and tall Sister Ker Win represented the “better babies” institution. Esther Mitchell drops a line from New York and, incidentally, settles the matter about the. Booth Theatre and O. P. Heggie s Ownership. She saw Heggie give a delightful performance in “The Truth About Blayds” in the Booth Theatre, West 45thstreet, street, New York—which theatre is owned and controlled by Mr, Winthrop Aimes. Heggie, she says, is knOwn in U.S.A. as an actor, not as a manager. She has just finished a hard-working season at the Neighborhood borhood Playhouse, and is now rehearsing lead in Shaw’s “Pygmalion,” the part made famous by Mrs. Pat Campbell. Later in the season a psycho-analytical melodrama is billed for production, the same having a part specially written for the Sydney girl. Mrs. M. Williams, who will be 93 years old on Christmas Day, was born in Druittstreet, street, Sydney, and since then has never lived further from it than the Glebe, which is her present place of abode. Mother of eight children, grandmother of 24, great-grandmother mother of 44 (and there are four infants of a newer generation), she is so hale that scorning the trams, she walks daily to Abercrombie-street, Redfern, to minister to an invalid daughter. The play-acting ’Varsity girls and bovs played pitch-and-toss with Sheridan recently, cently, and it isn’t their fault that “The , for Scandal” has a leg to stand on. With the exception of John Gould, as Sir I eter Teazle, the lads and lasses were so conscious of their clothes that they could scarcely put one foot before the other. Some i seemed so distressed over displayed by their kneebreeches breeches that they occasionally tried to telescope scope themselves. What the young men’s woUlt l be .if suddenly thrust before aii audience in hilts beggars the imaging tion. However, a special round of applause goes to John Gould for his presentation of Mr Peter. The King’s Hall housed the tragedy. 1 rank Payne and Alice E. Norton (aliases for two young matrons, Mrs. F. A. Q. Stephens phens and Mrs. Andrew Clinton) have pooled their canvases, and the result is a creditable art show in F. E. De Groot’s rooms, in 1 hillip-street. Alice Norton’s ' art busies itself with tree and sky, and little garden places from Queensland to Mount Wilson. The bits of Ivameruka and Bodalla are full of true coloring; and “A Grey Garden” is well worth its modest price of three guineas, h rank Payne busies herself with the immature ture male and female of the human species, and places them on beaches and in gardens, fowlyards and other sunlit spots. Her pictures are always vividly alive, and convey the impression that the Queensland girl suffers fers from no complexes, but finds the world a jolly sort of place after all. A patriotic lady in Northern N, S. Wales received a shock a few days ago. During the whr she khitted socks for soldiers abroad, and before despatch placed thfe Usual note inside one of each pair, stating tMt tne'jj' were going to France to warm a hero’s toe§; Now, from a remote part of Natal, Sdutli Africa, she has received a letter that a pair of socks were purchased in, the locUl stdre by ,the writer, who discovered her hotd iqsiqG and he thanks her for the tfrarinihg of hi§ extremities. The Country Women’s Association is establishing lishing a club-room where sisters from the Outback can drop in and be sure of meeting other country women. It ought to be a popular institution. Among the new Australian compositions published by Paling’s are five works by John Lemmone, of which “Valse Bluette” and “Spring Time” are particularly charming— fresh and off the beaten track. Esther Kahn contributes two or three gems to the new music, among which “The Watermill” rises to high-water mark. E. E. Brier’s “Three West Indian Tunes,” and C. Sauer’s “Aquarelles” relles” deserve special mention; as does E. H. Tyrell’s “Great Red Dawn.” Among the song-makers is Rachel Pitt Rivers, whose “Three Women,” which was sung by Melba at her Sydney farewell, is tinged with a delicate charm. One of the _ most striking exhibits at the Historical Exhibition is the navy and gold uniform of the late Captain Gother K. Mann, of the Bengal Artillery, a_ well-known figure in Sydney military circles in the ’forties and ’fifties. It was lent by t Miss K. Mann, one of a bevy of six maiden sisters who still live in the old Mann home at Greenwich Point, North Sydney. In the ’forties Captain Mann held a post at military headquarters, Sydney. Another member or this family was the artistsurveyor surveyor John Frederick Mann, born in 1819, and educated at Sandhurst. He came to Australia in ’4l, was second in command of Leichhardt’s Second expedition, married a daughter of B|ir Thomas Mitchell, and was one of the founders of the Historical Society. A Brisbane postscript!— Her Grade Of Hamilton has been Staying with Sir Matthew at Government House. She has visited and after she “does” Mrs. Lumley Hills’ home at Bellevue, where the mounted hoofs of famous racing sires are shown, She passes on to the Coochin Bells. Grace DeshOn, of Mitchell Downs, is also at the Governor’s gunyah, With the E. It, Tullys chaperoning, A wallet with a sensible cheque was handed t.O southward-flitting A, H. Chisholm on behalf of the Field Naturalists. His Ex. did the .handing, and said nice things about the ydting ornithologist, whose hook, “Mateship with Birds,” is being published by Whitcombe and Tombs. The same day a travellingbag bag was gathered in, packed with the goOd wishes of the district A.J.A. Derby Day saw white frockings on most of Brisbane’s bane’s Smart Set and black hats, big and little, were almost a uniform. Mrs. Harry Mills, who used to be Hilma Ohman, relieved the situation in rosecolored colored georgette,' and her black hat had feather edges. Mrs. Forster obtained a cool and pleasing effect in jade green and mauve. Bishop Lefanu’s lady brightened her white with red beading, and there were hints of apricot about Mrs. Cecil Palmer’s white and lime-colored check silk. Dulcie Crane is gathering laurels at the new Theatre Royal, while fcousin Colin teaches the young idea to baritone. To farewell Mrs. Dyson {nee Norwood Brown), who takes the Darvall chick under her youthful wing to India in the Narkunda, Mrs. Cadell Garrick and her daughter teaed a number of friends in the lounge at Lennon’s amid bowls of larkspur and gladioli. The Grammar School Old Boys’ Association, which boasts over a thousand members and a quarter of a century’s life, dined itself in the Caf6 Majestic the other night—and did itself proud.
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