The Letters of Annabel Lee

Radio Record, Volume I, Issue 14, 21 October 1927, Page 6

The Letters of Annabel Lee

My Dear Elizabeth, — Iswt A. A. Milne delightful? I have bought at The Bristol an enchanting volume of his child verses set tu music. Notable and charming nonsense, Here, for instance, is the chat of a small domestic climber-Half-way up the stair is the stair where I sit, There isn't any other stair quite like it! His lair, in fact, and just another version of home, sweet home! Again, set to music that tramp-tramps to bugle callsThey're changing guard at Buckingham Palace, Christopher Robin went down with Alice. Alice is marrying one of the Guard; A soldier’s life is terribly hard, says Alice! Pil send Margie a copy at Christmastime, which period of distraction draws nigh, and already are to be purchased all manner of ingenious novelties of howder boxes with long-necked, ringletvd ladies on the lid, silken baglets of futurist design, scarves spotted, striped, and hasily impressionistic, all manner of beautiful trifles in that Garden of Temptation, yclept Lambton Quay. Alas that, in an imperfect world, the gifts I would fain send off on Christmas Eve to John and Jane and Christopher Robin are invariably beyond my poor powers of financing; the prices of the fascinating birds and beasts prowling in the jungle of the shop windows being on a par with their attractiveness. Books there are ioo of wery definite lure; but of these I wil. tell you anon, when really in the throes of end-of-the-year shopping. Have you read "Crazy Pavements," by the way, that strange sidelight on latter-day psychology, with its subtle suggestion of a decadence that is also present in the witty novels of Mr. Michael Arlen, for his facile and charming styve. One of his characters talks "orn and corr and orn," and $0 does an opulent a:quaintance of mine. Very decorative was she when calling on me yesterday, in a gown of beige lace, upon the surface of which embroidered medallions fell in miraculously right places, a gleaming crystal disc in the foreground clasping odds and ends of fluttering georgette. This suited to perfection her bleached shingle and cameo profile, as she burbled forth her smonotonous *. ie: A a a ae ney

platitudes. Those of us who have passed thirty-five, and are still brown of hair and light of heart, she bitterly resents and suspects of being assisted by the serviceable Inecto, or perchance some less creditable channel of cheeriness. This is her conversational stock-in-trade, allicd with her ancestry, in which she takes an innocent delight, "The iwo things that really assist one to gct on in life are the grace of God and one’s pedigrec," said a witty woman once. Particularly the latter, tt always Seemcd to me, being minus that social asset. But now the pendulum has swung. Birth and the grand manner have gone out of fashion, more’s the pity, and money is the golden gate to success. In passing, I might mention that if you want to be up to the minute, do haze those old crystal beads of yours refashioned into a bracelet for "your pretty wrist, a clasp for the girdle round where the waist is now situated; or, better than al?, a quite large monogram for the black hat that every selfrespecting woman keeps in her wardrobe. Elsie and I strolled along to the House one night to listen to the wisdom of our grave and reverend senators. Unfortunately, we could not hear a great deal, perched as we were far back in the women’s dovecot, where the fluttering was quite considerable. Such a twittering and twittering and rustling of stitching as never I heard. "Don’t they listen at all?" asked Elsie, in an awed whisper, with a horrified glance at a@ nonchalait lady who trimmed her finger-nails with care and thoroughness as she conversed more or Icss audibly with a friend. Being @ well brought-up English girl, Elsie is accustomed to give courtesy where courtesy is due, and holds in high regard certain great names of British statesmen which are household words to her. The discussion was on the amended tariff, an absorbing question to the male imind, but somewhat beyond the scope of the feminine un derstanding. They all sounded convincing to me, some more than others, being of the species that prefers men to measures. Mr. Wilford was an alert and distinguished figure, his undeniable gift of the gab rendering more arresting his knowledge of the subject at issue: he being one of that small band of M.P.’s who can present their aspect of the question with dignity and impressiveness. The vicissitudes of trade is not exactly an inspiring theme; but had " ia oie

it been, Mr. Wilford would have been equal to it, as witness during the war years his splendid oratory for the cause. In one of the pens fidgeted a Labour member, as he contradictiously twisted his crop of thick black hair into a Byronic curve across has manly brow; while the Leader of the Opposition studied the evening paper with extreme detachment, emerging, however, when Mr. E. P. Lee delivered his sentiments in meticulous phraseology, the while he wreathed himself sinuously round the supporting rail. Also were to be seen New Zealand’s own Sir Joseph, back in the Old Home, comfortably dosing in his pew until a quite good little earthquake shook him up; and Mr. H. L. Tapley, Dunedin's great Pooh Bah, whose resounding voice I longed to hear, cut unfortunately while we were there he was silent as 4YA on an off night. Close beside him sat Mr. T. K. Sidey, triumphantly twinkly as to eye, a halo of accomplishment radiating around him, ts he meditated that summer is a-comin in, and with it his love of lang syne, the Daylight Saving dodge. Also did I notice the member for Westland vaulting over a stile to greet some of his cobbers, looking little older and wiser than of yore, but giving and receiving the nods and becks and wreathed smiles that seem to be his prerogative. And so out into the open once more, where we admired the graceful shadows and shadowy dream palaces into which the misty moonlight transformed the blatant buildings of daylight. We look forward to a time when around us will be reared with much clang and clamour a lordly little city-soaring skyscrapers, dassling electricity, wireless, television, all the fun of the fair that we can beg, borrow, or steal the money for. But when night comes, it is good to forget this laudable ambition, and, with a gentle drift of rain falling on the just and unjust and shrouding the long wistas, to watch the great piles thrown into the high relief of a Brangwyn etching, or linger along the Terrace, rejoicing in the far-flung lights of Oriental Bay or the nearcr and dearer gleams and shadows of the street below, which always scem to me singularly enticing. But perhaps it is that we all think our own cabbage-patch the most beautiful, for after all East, West; Hame's best! Your

ANNABEL

LEE