Trials of a Namesake

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 382, 16 June 1928, Page 26

Trials of a Namesake

Thomas Burke Issues an Ultima - turn to Tom Burke

Thomas Burke, the author of “Limeflo-i'-se Wights” and other popular tales, has written to the “Daily Mail,” issuing a friendly warning to Thomas Burke, the tenor, husband of the popular stage star Marie Burke. It makes amusing reading. ■F my golden - throated namesake doesn’t either clear out of London or get himself a telephone he’ll soon he in serious trouble. I have many times heard him sing and each time he has sweetly disturbed me. But the sweet disturbance of the concert hall is one thing, and disturbance in one’s work is another; and almost every day his presence In London disturbs mv work It’s not entirely his fault. He lias done his best to avoid it by privately and publicly naming himself Tom Burke, but as that name is not in the telephone directory people persist in confusing us, and the confusion is making me think of confoundedly knavish tricks. Mr. Winston Churchill, the novelist, lives in America, so he and our Mr. Winston Churchill probably do notbother each other. Sir Michael Sad-" ler and Mr. Michael Sadleir are father and son, so there can be no harm there. Our W. H. Hudson and Professor W. H. Hudson were sometimes confused, but as the professor is an American there again little trouble arise. All that 'this similarity of names brings me is continual exasperation. The telephone plays little part in the life of an author, but it seems to play a large part in the life of an actor or a singer; to be the chief medium of communication. At least four times a week I am rung up and asked if I will give a recital at Lady Bilgewater’s afternoon or evening; if I could possibly look in at the countess’s little charity affair for even one song; if I will hear a struggling young tenor sing; and this week a tenor rang up with a tale of rent unpaid and family sickness. When I asked why he was telling me about it, he said he was sure, from what he had heard of my generosity, that England’s greatest tenor would not fall a brother artist in time of need.

Twice this week, in the middle of work, I have been rung up by a cigarette company and asked if I would tell them, for publication, how their cigarettes affected my singing voice. I told them they did not affect my singing voice in the least. They were delighted until I added: “First, because I don’t smoke them; second, because I haven’t got one.” They laughed politely and said: “Come, come, Mr. Burke. Listen just a moment. ...” I rang off. The second time they became plaintive. “But ■really, Mr. Burke, joking apart, won't you tell us what you think?” I did. This time they rang off. Worse still. Some time ago a weekly 'paper for which I had done a special article published with it “a new portrait of the author” —a picture of Tom Burke. Next day readers told friends of mine how pleasant it was to see that England had one really handsome author, and the friends themselves wanted to know whether the American face-lifting treatment was expensive. Tom Burke is an excellent fellow, but much as I like him my - liking is being sorely tried. I have warned him once, and I now give him Final Notice. He is twice my size and a bit of a boxer, but I warn him. - If he doesn’t get himself a telephone, the next time Lady Bilgewater rings up and asks “dear Thomas Burke” to sing at, her afternoon, I shall accept that and every other engagement. And then wallop will go his reputation, and there’ll be nothing for him but to turn to writing novels and occasional articles.