ALL ABOUT ARRY. RICKARDS AND THE REPORTER. THE OLD IDEAS.

Te Aroha News, Volume II, Issue 425, 4 December 1889, Page 3

ALL ABOUT ARRY. RICKARDS AND THE REPORTER. THE OLD IDEAS.

A. ,wkitkk in the Melbourne •' Telegraph " gives the following account of an interview with Harry Kickards : — "Not so long ago art actor was regarded as a rogue and a vagabond, and even at the present time the pdpulav idea of a professional entertainer in; private life is not of an 'elevated charaotor. His life is supposed to be one constant Whirl of excitement and dissipation, drinking, late hours, and debauchery. On the other hand, novelists loving to paint pictures with broad etlects have delighted to depict the laughtermoving comedian as a morose, disappointed, selfish, suvly individual, "with a settled sorrow and an unworkable liver. The pdpular idea of tho novelifct'a J creation serves but to illustrate the falsehood of extremes, and those who,liketho writer of these lines, havo been brought into intimate contact with comedians, have found them simply men with no inordinate love for the life that kills ; men of shrewd business habits and prudent investments ; men, surrounded by home tie&, joying in the possession of household god?, and grieving like men under domestic afflictions.

•AKRY AT HOME. "Partly on b'usiribfcs and partly on pleasure, the writer found himself, one day thie w.oeU, in a quiet, unpretentious, but com fortabJo villa ab St. Kilda. Everything bespoke comfort ; the furniture was rich and somewhat justhelie in style, and all the surrounding were those of sotno domesticated gentleman, who, being well-to-do, had made a home that should be luxuriously neat without ostentations display. Here dwelt Mr Harry, Rickards, the comedian and vocalist, the iinperconator of the loudvoiced cockney, the dashing masher, and tha thousand and one varied types of character that have set the world laughing fbr goodness knows how many years past. On this particular occasion, when the visitor called, Mr Rickards was not at home, and it is whilst waiting his arrival that a mental observation is taken of the little evidences of elegant ease which are scatteied about.

ItICKARDS THE GREAT. "Presently a cnb drives up, and a staidlooking gentleman jumps out. Three childien —two girls and a bo^ —follow, and the quartet troop into the houte. These are Harry Kickards' little ones, and the staidlooking, solid gentleman around whom the tiny tiio clings is none other than Harry Riekards himself — Rickards the Great, Rickards the Holiday Coßtermonger, Rickards the celebrated Vocal Comedian, the Blighted Gardener, the Mather King, etc., etc., etc. Ifc is somewhat ot a surprise to the visitor to heav tho children asking pa to do this, or requiring pa's permission to havo certain- toys to play with, just as if ' The Great Rickards' was an ordinary parent, bossed by his children in the most everyday fo&hion. It does not seem to strike ' The Great ' one for a moment that he is supposed to plfty the Roman father, and he is moulded liko wax in tho hands of these little artificers. Their requests are granted, and they aie bidden to run away and play, and not to make too much noi^o, lest they disturb mamma.

COMEDY AND -TRAGEDY. " Here i& the first sign ot sorrow seen be hind the laughing mask; 1 Mi's Riokards, though now slowly recovering, Uaa been laid up with rheumatic fever for three months, and during that time her husband has been appearing to ' crowded and delighted audiences.' He had been funny, so grimly funny, whilst tho public have roared with mirth and applauded him to the echo. Jle Ims been looking out over tho footlights at Broken Hill and seemg — not tho smilirjg countenances of amused pleasure seekers — but the, pale face of tho sick wife, whose life is trembling in the balance — Ah, liMlc they Hunk, •vUio .delight in the strains, That the heart of the minatrcl is breaking.

A MODEST MAN. " Thebusinessof thcvisitorisof noinlerest to the reader, but it is the peep at the inner life of the comedian that will agreeably surprise those who judge the comedian only as they fee him with his painted face, false hair, and bizarre co&fcumo. JMr RicUaids is. pleasantly chatty and agreeable, and, though full of anecdote of expeiiences, he tells his tale with a quiet modesty that has in it no trace of the ' rorty pal ' or bho ' lardy-dardy swell.' lie has quite a collection of handtome and valuable presents, which have at \arious times been given to himself and his wife, and these lie shows with boyish pleasure and pardonable pride. He sees you glance at a large framed portrait over the door.

THAT'S MY DAD. " ' Do you think there is any likeness ?' ho as>ks, and, withoub waiting ior an answer, he tells you : ' That's my dad. The dear old chap thinks an awful lot of me.' The 1 Great One ' says this in a laughing, apologetic way, as if he folt some excuse should be made for the old gentleman's unaccountable partiality.

A LOVER OF AUSTRALIA. " A noteworfchyfeatureaboubHarry Rickards U thut he does not * talk shop ' unless you drive ' him to, it. oA^ stranger, after an hour's conversation, would ne\er orcdit that he was a man who lived on, and by, the 6tage. He willingly rattles on about anything else. H*is an enthusiastic lover of Australia, for heihais cl6ne-well: in it. His wife is Australian-born ; so, too, is one of his children.

GOOD OLD AUSTRALIA. "No more England for me. I mean bo stick to Australia. I may go occasionally to the Old Country to engage talent, bub this is my country for the future. It isn't only because it's a land of gold ; but it's a land of health and freedom. My youngsters were always ailing in England, and my baby died thero. Here the children are aa lively as, crickets, and, with the exception of the' present illness, Mrs Rickardslias had good health too. Bub it's the freedom, of the life here that makes it so pleasant. In England a professional cannot get oub of bhe groove. Ho mutsb travel the pace ; and ib s a pace that kills. Here a man upon the stage can lead the life he chooses. Ho can go the pace 'hero and kill himself just as quickly as in' England, but he is nob forced into the whirl as in England. Nobody knows or nobody cares, for instance, what lam off the stage. There is a sort of con bract between the public and a performer that he shall do his • show ' to the best of his ability, and if he does thab the Australian public is .satisfied, and lets him lead his own life in his own way — the rackety suicido of dissipation, or the jogtrot, eapy enjoymont of quiet respectability.

A DECENT FELLOW. "There ia^a. fascination about the homely morality coining from a representative of ' Champagne Charlie ' that is as pleasing as it is unexpected. There is a charm in hear ing of his Kttlo investments in Broken Hill shares, and his* calculations as to how much

he.expecfcs-to make oub of his Now Zealand tour upon which he is just starting. It is pleasant, too, to hear him speak of his company as ladies and gentlemen, whose private friendship he seems to value highly. When the mask of, the comedy is removed, you find behind iVthekindlyphilosophicfaceof a philanthropist, and when you leave him, after an interval all too short, you feel grateful towards Harry Rickards, not for the laughter ho' has given you in public, but for having unconsciously shown you that, the ' poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage ' may in private life be a worthy citizen of simple tastes, an affectionate husband and father, and a kindly gentleman."