Woman's World

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LVI, Issue 221, 18 March 1914, Page 6

Woman's World

ELLEN TERRY AT HOME AN UNCONVENTIONAL INTERVIKW. l exuberantly youthful at sixty-six. Lomlon, February 4. Asked to outline :tn imaginary interview a few years ago in New Zealand with Ellen Terry in London, might oae aot been forgiven for picturing tile most celebrated actress in the world «s something of a queen in private life. A good deal more original and human, ■ unconventional, and perhaps genuinely autocratic than a real queen, maybe, but still a being radiating knowledge of the worship that has been poured at her feet for these so many years since she first onrantured the artistic world with her interpretations of Shakespeare. I Poles distant from the imaginary the real proved to be. hi the quiet, unpretentious bouse in Chelsea whore Ellen Terry lives and where the writer talked to her this week about l.er forthcoming New Zealand tour was no single sign of the laurels that have crowned her wonderful bead and made her hold it not a whit higher. Knowing her glory, one perhaps expected an aloofness, knowing her age (sixty-six this month) one dreaded, in loyalty to the first, that under any assumption of youtjh should possibly appear some sinister reminder of the nearness of those " three-score years and ten " that were thought once'to sound a knell on the vivid appreciation tf things beautiful and living. The years that have changed her fair hair to grey, taken maybe a little of the light from the eyes that must have been marvellously soft and sparkliug years ago and the bloom fiom Tier rheek*. have been able to do no mare. Wie does not feel old, she certtkly does not bear herself with any rcv*r- . ence for her years, and alludes with no 'vestige of solemnity to herself as if she discussed a third person. Without being flippant, she is merry-hearted and simple as if her long life had been spent in the freedom of the country and not among the greatest men and women of her age. How many who have passed away loved to be numbered among the friends of this sparkling and magnetic woman?

ELLEN TERRY'S HOUSE. Without, her house in King's Road, Chelsea, dignified by no more than a number, is us plain as any house ever was—merely one of many like it with severe windows and walls", a high green fence shutting off the- red brick courtyard which is little more than a yard, and a plain green door. Within it is all instinct with the attributes of the owner, and would seem much more the abode of an artist than an actress. Nowhere is there to be seen a single photograph of Ellen Terry, but there | are instead fine old pictures on fine old I dark-panelled walls, wide old-fashioned open fireplaces, high small-paned windows looking on to a quiet courtyard at the back that might be a hundred miles from the din of Chelsea's main road. Nothing new was to be seen anywhere, save a telephone. Even the servant, who admitted—after having uncompromisingly refused!—the New Zealander, was old enougli to be a contemporary of her mistress. Ellen Terry, it was well known, has a passion for children and dogs, and, from the noise in the study into which the writer was eventually taken, a menagerie might have been stationed there. Two children, Nelly and Teddv Craig—Miss Terry's grandchildren -- and the hitter's corpulent fox-terrier, accounted for the din that rather increased than otherwise when surelv one of the remarkable grandmothers of the world appeared like another beam of the rare sunlight we were blessed with that morning. It was Miss Terry's first appearance and she was greeted I by a perfect yell of delight liv the chit|drcn and pulled along by her skirt by David, the dog. A less icstful personality than our heroine's in the earlv morning it would be difficult to picture. When she speaks, even when she moves, she is radiant, a Woman—apart from her past greatness, apart, indeed, from anv artificial attributes—filled full with the joy of life. The best exuberance, for it' takes no account of years unless to laugh at them as Samuel Johnson made a merry mouth at poverty and non-plussed it so. She is rather proud of her birthdays than otherwise, as birthdays.

MESSAGE TO NEW ZEALAXDERS. '•Don't let Sew Zcalanders picture me young and dazzlinsrly beautiful," she begged laughingly. "I am so afraid that they won't realise that it is an old woman coming out to ace them. And don't call my discourses lectures, for I don't pretend tli.it they're anything of the kind. I quite realise myself that though I've been learning all my life in Shakespeare's school I don't know all he has to teach 1 yet." I " I feel that I've had more leisure to study the subject than most people, and that I may be able to help them further enjoy what, with my opportunities, they would have known for themselves." Asked what made her contemplate so long a trip, Miss Terry replied that she didn't regard it as very long. She's often- been invited to go before, and now with the prospect of a few quiet ("lazy," she said) months ahead, determined to set out with no one hut h.-r maid for company. The prospect of so long a sea. voyage delights her. Indeed, but for the plans of her agent, she had contemplated two trips to New Zealand in order to cross the water from Australia four times! " I have to school myself not to look so jolly in bad weather," she explained. " I j find I irritate my fellow-passengers Four discourses altogether will be given, probably not more than two in I any one town. These are to he (I) j' The Pathetic Heroines," (2) "The Triumphant Heroines of Shakespeare," (3) " Letters in Shakespeare's Flays " and (4) "Children in Shakespeare's Plays." All should be well worth hearing, but the last especially so, the writer can vouch, for a more ideal playfellow than Ellen Terry must appear to children could surely nowhere be found. Having admitted the visitor to her sanctum, where her children are allowed to play, the visitor was expected to take a reasonable part in things^ "Perhap ß you would take my place and be a first-class passenger in' Nelly's ocean li.ier while I answer the telephone," was one request, and I had to clamber on to the polished top of a high Jacobean chest, lie on a cushion, and allow myself to be imprisoned in the Ladies' Cabin!" A moment later to adjust myself to the scant space of a Venetian gondola, which Teddy was sailing through thin air. Once, to get j rfd of the too high-spirited Nelly agod eleven, the latter was despatched as ■,

page to attend Miss Terry's secretary, which she did with great dignity. Imagine taking part in everything as one of the family, David, who, sent away in disgrace once for jumping oa a couch, returned, having gone to the verv top of the house, with'a pale blue blanket, which he waved excitedly around his mistress's feet until she rose and spread it out. on the sofa for him to lie on. All the time she talks—would that one could reproduce her! -and the last inch, nt recalled another. AX IKVIXG ANECDOTIC. Sir Henry Irving' had a fox-terrier very like David, but not so well trainiml, and Miss Terry, when staying with the livings at the seaside, undertook to train " Fussy." A scarlet rug was procured and he was taught to provide himself with a bed with this. Worrying Miss Terry one morning on tile beach to lake him on her lap, she bade him sternly bring his rug. The dog dashed back to the house and up to Sir Hemy room, where was lying the red nightshirt that the actor wore— and the rest of the embarrassing episode may be imagined. " Do you act any of the scenes you allude toy" the writer asked. "I try not to," she replied, with a grim little chuckle, "since I don't feel myself nowadays a fit impersonator of Juliet, Ophelia or Portia. But I fear 1 must just slip into showing them in Xew Zealand what I read into the parts." -Miss Terry will 'sail by the Onirah on March 27, and opens at the Melbourne Town Hall early in April Visits to Sydney, Brisbane, Auckland,' Christclmreh and Dunediu will follow.

It is not generally known that a wellknown authoress, bearing an honored name, is at present making her home with her husband at Greymouth, in the person of Mrs. Derek Thornton, who writes under the name of "Enid Leigh Hunt," she being a great-graiul-daughter of the celebrated essayist and literateur, Leigh Hunt, a friend of Charles Dickens. Her two books, written primarily for girls, are entitled "The Advent of Arthur" and "Hazelhurst." They have quite a vogue in England and Canada, being in demand with such, works as those by Miss Alcott and other writers for girls. The engagement is announced of Mr. D. C. Collins, only son of Dr. and Mm Collins, of Wellington, to Miss Sybil Abraham, elder daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Lionel Abraham, of Palmerston North.