The Letters of Annabel Lee

Radio Record, Volume I, Issue 19, 25 November 1927, Page 6

The Letters of Annabel Lee

My Dear Elisabeth, Coin of the realm cannot be so searce a commodity as I had supposed. I say this advisedly after spending an hour at MacKenna’s sale of valuable china, furniture and art treasures of all sorts and sizes, that set me pining for a wand of faery, a Wishing Cap, to work a miracle. Speedily would I have made my own a French statuette, the lightly poised figure of a swiftness and grace unsurpassed; likewise a useless and beautiful screen of gilt and glass and gleaming brocade, over which some Lady Teazle of a byegone ‘day must surely have cocked a gladsome eye. At this sale the prices, though high, were low, so to speak; and Wellington’s Brightest, Best, and Most Prosperous took epportunity by the forelock and bought extensively. With me went Evangeline, greatly desirous of adding to her already great possessions a buhl table of the Louis XVI period; which she might have acquired for quarter of its value, but let it go, being thrifty to the marrow, in spite of the solidity of her income and the spirituality of her profile. On the principle of sweets to the sweet, I should. have liked to buy for a girl in the back/ground, with a Rossetti-like face of sombre beauty, a clock of rare design in Dresden china, backed by branching candlesticks, all very flowery and fragile, and of intricate and fascinating workmanship. Just a fancy of mine to see that sadness lighten over the bustling little cupids; but nobody got these lovely things, as no one would pay the price. Have you chanced to observe how the right purchases go to the wrong people? Not only at art sales, but in plain, plodding drapery "emporiums," one sees the glow and shine of crystal, the embroideries of the Orient, bedragoned dressing-gowns and hydrangea-blue "nights," snapped up by the dull and dismal. Wherefore not, of course? She who pays the piper calls the tune; and oftentimes though the taste may run to crepe de chine, fate forces into fuji. And vice versa! In the Jatter amazingly cheap silk, en passant,

are to be had ‘variations of attractive stripe and colouring. Nor is kasha a covering to be despisedthat substitute for the once-upon-a-time flannel-which is now made in shades of pastel eminently comfortting to brunette and blonde. By no means do I feel a "flannelled fool’ as I face the world in a suit of a good grey weave of this friendly stuff, with splashes of right royal blue at the right angles, all cleverly fashioned with skill and discretion by a stiteher in a wide street, without flourish of trumpet or profiteering fee. Berths on coastal steamers are being booked rapidly for the holiday weeks. As yet I’m not on their little list, for locomotion at the Christmas season is by no means the aeme of ease; though it’s. net the world’s worst in this country as I’ve sometimes thought. A member of staff of a well known South Island college, travelling with two of her students in Italy, recently sped by train to Genoa. Weary of sightseeing, particularly in Venice (very full of Germans), one girl put. up trim feet and ankles on the ‘seat, preparing to rest and be thankful. On a sudden a face appeared at the window of the birdcage carriage, then was withdrawn with staccato suddenness. Anon two Mussolini Fascists appeared, in black shirts and fierce tempers, uniformed and voluble. Pointing to a notice in Italian, and employing much stupid gesticulation, they conveyed the information that gaol, no less, was the portion of those who destroyed property in Italy! Apparently, when going to and fro on the Continent it is necessary to tread delicately, like Agag; or perhaps ‘tis merely that, there, as elsewhere, a little power is a dangerous thing, and to set a beggar on even an ambling steed or a dawdling train is unwise. The Dunedin Women’s Ciub gives charming parties, evidenced by the annual gathering of the Arts and Crafts section. By some happy inspiration, | an unusual and original entertainment was presented in the form of "Mlustrated Songs,"

warbled very delightfully, and acted in graceful tableau and dance. To the music of the tuney and charming "An Old Garden," Miss Nancy Barr looked notably young and lovely in her petticoat of satin and her gaily flowered gown, as she drifted past between rows of lavender and an other-world background of hollyhocks of exceeding beauty. Childlike and winsome looked Miss Coreen Browne (whose flower-fairy pictures are familiar to many), as she "sat"? for the Millais "Cherry Ripe," beloved by small boys and girls of past years. "The Laird of Cockpen"’ and "King’s Breakfast," each so funny in widely differing fashion, were very popular; the dairymaid of Mr. A. A. Milne’s imagination putting up a great performance, assisted by an almost cow in the corner. Miss Vida Reynolds, in a clear voice and frock of silver lace, read the announcements; and Miss Service looked a "dainty rogue in porceJain,’ as she danced exquisitely to the music of "Rose Marie’; while others performers demonstrated that Dunedin is in the forefront in matters artistic. No more for this week. Except that you, a lover of verse, should send for a copy of the Poems of Dick Harris, published since his death. Let us hope a neglected singer will now come into his own. Years ago, when quite young, Dick Harris is remembered as a lounging, Villonesque figure, somewhat haggard and remote, and with little of the world’s goods. In later years he, mellowed somewhat, but was never, one imagines, very content; though he possessed the bonhomie and intuitive responsiveness that are attributes of the Bohemian. But his ways were not Wellington ways, and he was incapable of the push and drive inseparable from the successful pursuit of the dollar. At odds with circumstances, unable to follow the gleam across the country of his desire, in later years he grew lethargic and indifferent to a world that did not treat him too well, but which is the richer for the heritage of his}

verse _Your,

ANNABEL

LEE