A New Zealander in Sydney Town

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 1060, 26 August 1930, Page 14

A New Zealander in Sydney Town

THE SUN'S Sydney Correspondent SYDNEY, August 20. Pr««ture on the Prime Minister

More than one Australian Is of the opinion that the duty of the Prime Minister, Mr. Scullin, is to remain in Australia at the present juncture. This impression, as a matter of fact, is ■widespread and general. The Commonwealth is faced with the greatest financial crisis in its history. Deprived of the capable support of Mr. Theodore when least expected, Mr. Scullin has nominated the Minister of Customs, Mr. Fenton, to act in his stead. Although Mr. Fenton did extremely well abroad and certainly enhanced his own reputation as a Minister, it is generally recognised that he has not had the financial experience of, say, even Mr. Theodore. Meanwhile, the Imperial Conference looms large on the horizon. It is hardly likely that Mr. Scullin will cancel the suite on the Orama that will await him at Fremantle. Sir Otto Niemeyer, the Bank of England's special representative, and his financial experts, will soon be left behind, and an exceedingly overworked Prime Minister will have a few weeks’ rest when Australian shores fade. In the early stages of the important Melbourne conference this week Mr. Scuiin, a very sick man, was forced to remain tn bed. The Prime Minister has been most anxious to avoid a repetition of a pleurisy attack which seriously incapacitated him last year before he entered office. Dame Rumour Again Telephone bells in all the Sydney newspapers rang loud and lustily one afternoon this week. Dame Rumour, ever a lying jade, had been up to her old tricks again. In trams, trains and buses, travellers were assured on the highest authority that the Premier (Mr. Bavin) had died in Melbourne, where he is attending the conference with Sir Otto, following a collapse. The rumours were so insistent that Melbourne was communicated with by long distance wire. The reply was that Mr. Bavin was alive and well. Realising the importance of this meeting, Mr. Bavin, another sick man, went across specially for it, though he has not yet officially re-

sumed his duties at the Premier’s Department. The news that followed, however, concerning the illness of Mr. Scullin, was sufficiently alarming. Kings of Finance

The other morning a little old man stepped from a limousine, and although in his late eighties, scorned any assistance, as he made his way up the steps of the Hotel Australia. The little old man in the shining top hat, who peered so keenly beneath beetling white brows through his hornrimmed glasses, was immediately ushered into the suite of Sir Otto Niemeyer, the Bank of England’s Australian receiver. For more than half an hour Mr. George Judah Cohen, Australian millionaire, was closeted with the knight. What transpired between these monarchs of high finance will probably never be known. Neither is in the habit of talking. Most outstanding figure in Sydney Jewry, Mr. Cohen is also head of the Commercial Banking Company of Sydney, and is interested in such profitable undertakings as breweries and gas companies and similar djvidend-pro-duciug concerns. It business he is a hard man to deal with, yet essentially a man of iron purpose, and even at his great age, a stickler for office routine. Seldom is he ever a minute late at his own business. Handshake With Early Sydney

When the weather permits, Mr. Cohen likes to walk in the vicinity of his Elizabeth Bay home. One morning recently I saw him solemnly remove his hat to a small boy of three. “Will you shake hands with me, sir?” he demanded of the child. The child, shyly, obeyed. Yet when his father endeavoured to assist the banker up a footway that appeared to give him a litle trouble, he was indignantly, albeit, politely, brushed aside, Carefully surveying the situation, Mr. Cohen made a little run, and eventually negotiated the difficulty. The hand of the little boy stretched much farther into the history of Sydney than he will probably ever know. George Judah Cohen was born near the Tank Stream, an historic creek that once ran in the heart of commercial Sydney in the early part of last century. Oldest Prelate in the World

It could hardly be expected that Archbishop Redwood would leave his Strad behind in New Zealand. The

prelate and his violin have been inseparable for many years. Dr. Redwood is another who knew a different Sydney to the hustling, bustling, noisy city that we live in today. The Archbishop, who is the oldest prelate in Christendom, first entered the Heads in 1854, when on his way to school in Europe. How many times he has crossed the Tasman since he cannot remember. Dr. Redwood is on his way to Lismore, where he will attend the opening of a new Marist college. Its principal will be one of his own priests, the Rev. Father Segrief (at one time of Wellington). A Second Stradivarius in Sydney Archbishop Redwood’s Stradivarius is th 4 second to arrive in Sydney recently. The other belongs to Jan Kubelik, who has met with warm support during his Sydney season, despite the financial depression. Its guardian is “Mr. Dawson,” Kubelik's coloured servant, who shares his master’s dislike for jazz, and has been in his employ for many years. Sale of Lambert’s Work Excellent examples of the work of tile late George W. Lambert, A.R.A.. will be available at the Hordern gallery next month. The object of the sale primarily is to assist his widow. Although it is hoped to form what will eventually be known as a Lam bert Court at the National Gallery, there is nothing to prevent oversea buyers operating. This should provide an excellent opportunity for New Zealand galleries. If they cannot afford

something more expensive, I think that an effort should be made to secure at. least one drawing for each of the principal cities. Apart from the value of Lambert’s work, which from the point of draughtsmanship alone is highly important to students, such au investment would be financially weli worth w-hile. As the years go by the work of the Australian master must increase in price. Discovering a Gruner Many stories have been related of late following the appeal for funds to purchase Lambert’s unsold work. Quite a number, too, have appeared in print. This is one, however, related to me by Elioth Gruner, the landscape painter, which has not hitherto been published. One evening some years ago Gruner and Basil Burdett, of the Macquarie Galleries, were on their way to the Playbox Theatre when they met the A.R.A. Lambert was anxious to return and see a film. The placing of a bowl of fruit on a table in a certain set in the film had caught his eye, and he wanted to study it again. This, by the way, is but one indication of the painter’s eye for detail. Persuaded, Lambert went along to the Playbox. Arriving a little late the trio was ushered into a front seat to find that the crux of the dramatic presentation before them was a certain Old Master. When, in the following act, the painting was brought forward on the stage, Lambert startled the whole house by announcing, “My God, he has discovered a Gruner!” The performance was suspended. Actors and audience rocked with laughter as Gruner and Burdett, followed at a leisurely distance by George Lambert, crept out of i the theatre. British Footballers Arrive The warm, spring-like sunshine that greeted the British footballers on arrival from New Zealand this week was exceedingly welcome to them after the cold of the Dominion. Their presentation rugs, which were much to the fore, though likely to be of little use for the present, were nevertheless an excellent advertisement for Maoriland. ERIC RAMSDEN.