WITHOUT PREJUDICE

Dominion, Volume 19, Issue 48, 20 November 1926, Page 8

WITHOUT PREJUDICE

NOTES AT RANDOM

(By

T.D.H.)

The difference between Tsarism and Bolshevism is that it is the other half of the population that lives in exile now.

Women swim the Channel, says a London medical expert, because lownecked dresses and short skirts have made them Tiardy.—One gathers that if tlie population gave up wearing anything it could probably swim tire Atlantic.

The Rumanian Royal Family, what with Queen Marie’s peregrinations . in America and Prince Carol’s peregrinations in love, continues to occupy its full share of space in tlie news. It is interesting to learn, via New York, that Queen Marie, after having earned a considerable sum from her pen (or typewriter) as a contributor to American journals, is said to have conceived the idea that the realm ot Rumania could be put on its feet financially if a little of the big money going so freely in pav at Hollywood studios could be diverted to Bucharest.

# - * Her Majesty is alleged to have formed a determination to proceed to the capital of movieland and to burst upon the world as a new star in tbe film firmament. There is no doubt that there would have been good money in a departure of this kind, but the proposal is said to have been unpalatable to the apparently conservative ideas of King Ferdinand, and tbe Rumanian diplomats represented that there is no precedent at all for crowned and anointed monarchs acting in moving pictures. The project being thus coldly received, Her Majesty, nothing daunted, decided to see what she could effect in the way of plain borrowing. So far the news has not announced the flotation of a Rumanian loan in New York.

It is a difficult business to produce a war film that will please everybody, and it looks as if each of the Allies w -r be well advised to keep its war pictures for home consumption. An American war picture gave much offence when shown in Britain recently, people declaring that although America may have won the war she didn’t win it that way. Now a British picture of Mons is criticised in France as grossly exaggerating the role played by the British Army in the early days of the war. Presently no doubt there will be more criticism of the German picture version of the Sydney-Emden fight, stated in the news this morning to be in hand. There was not, however, much room for doubt as to who was victorious in that encounter, and the general opinion seems to be that though Captain von Mueller, of the Emden, sank a lot of merchant ships, as was his job, he played the game. There was a romantic touch, too, about one ship that he did not sink, finding the captain’s wife on board, and presenting her with the vessel as her private property— a gift subsequently upheld in the law courts m Britain. It thus seems almost possible that an Emden war film might be produced that wouldn’t hurt anybody s feelings.

Yesterday’s storv as to the ghost of Oueen Elizabeth having reappeared is a reminder that in addition to the spectres allegedly haunting the royal palaces in Britain, the Tower of London is credited with its full share of them. Many of the Tower ghost stories are supported by puzzling evidence. One of the most remarkable of the tales is that related in 1860 by Mr. Edward L. Swifte, a former official. His statement has been published as follows: “In 1814 I was appointed Keeper of the Crown jewels in the Tower, where I resided with mv familv till my retirement in 1852. One Saturday night in October, 1817, about ‘the witching hour,’ I was at supper with mv wife, her sister and our little boy in the . sitting room of the jewel house, which—then comparatively modernised—is said to hax e been the' ‘doleful prison’ of Anne Bolevn and of the ten Bishops whom Ciliver Cromwell piously accommodated therein. The room was—as it still is—irregularly shaped, having three doors- and two windows, which last are cut nearly nine feet deep into tlie outer wall. Between these there is a chimneypiece projecting far into the room and (then) surmounted with a large oil picture. On the night in question the doors were all closed, heavy and dark cloth curtains were let down over the windows, and the only light in the room was that of two candles on the table.

“I sat at the foot of the table,” added Mr. Swifte, “my son on my right hand, his mother fronting the chimneypiece and her sister on the opposite side. I had offered a glass of wine and water to my wife when, on putting it to her lips,’ she paused and exclaimed: ‘Good God! What is that?’ I looked up and saw a cylindrical figure like a glass tube, seemingly about the thickness of niv arm and hovering between the ceiling and the tabic. Its contents appeared to be a dense fluid, white and pale azure, like the gathering of a summer cloud, and incessantly mingling within the cylinder. _ This lasted about two minutes, when it began slowly to move before my sister-in-law; then, following the oblong shape of the table, before my son and mvself; passing behind my wife, it paused for a moment over her right shoulder (observe, there was no mirror opposite to her in which she could there behold it). Instantly she crouched down and with both hands covering her shoulder she shrieked out: ‘Oh! It has seized me!’ Even now, while writing, I can feel the fresh horror of that moment.

“I caught up niy chair, struck at the Wainscot behind her, rushed upstairs to the children’s room and fold tiie terrified nurse what I had seen. Meanwhile, the other domestics had hurried into the parlour, where their mistresses recounted to them the scene, even as I was detailing it above stairs.” Roger observed his little brother of a few months and then rematked with a satisfied air: “Pretty soon his face will be big enough to slap.” AMICI. It’s the friends you make in college that you keep your whole life long; It’s the friendships formed in college that are permanent and strong And that sentiment to-day is just as accurate and true As when T chummed with Whatsisname in 1892. Your mother is your mother and your uncle is your aunt (Of course he really isn't—but the phrase gives you the slant)—. Relations are relations ■ but your friends, thank God, you pick 1 As I used to say to Whozisnow the year we were so thick. Commencement Night and Amici—two memories ever green! The night of nights I The song of songs! The moonlight opaline! Back through the years 1 look and feel the old affections stir. Friends of my youth! 1 wish T could remember who they were! •—Baron Ireland in ‘.'Life” (N.Y.)