The Letters Of Annabel Lee

Radio Record, Volume I, Issue 35, 16 March 1928, Page 3

The Letters Of Annabel Lee

My dear Elisabeth: Many a "nymph, a naiad and a grace" sported on the green on Saturday afternoon, in the Prime Minister’s lovely garden, the occasion being a garden party in aid of the great work of the Red Cross. What though the sun with ardent frown Had lightly tinged their limbs with brows. ‘of these young twinkletoes? Graceful to a degree were the dances, and delightful to watch in that Arcadian setting of blossoming shrubs and mighty trees. Half a dozen swaying girls in scanty draperies of turquoise, black Gretchen-ish plaits bringing out their eyes’ young blue, danced under a vivid silken canopy; whilst a bevy of babelets of five or so, in green and gold frills of exceeding abbreviation, were perhaps most ravishing of all. Miss O’Brien’s pretty pupils helped towards the success of the function, which was a very happy one all round, with an occasional inspiriting blare from the pipes, and the Tramways band playing gaily in its own musicianly fashion. Punch and Judy met with rapturous reception, Pierrot summoned credulity to consult a Soothsayer, who in strange garb and a quiet corner poured a strange tale into the willing ear of ithe wearer of a Green Hat. Stalis

were stocked with enticing edibles, one vendor in black and white and becoming swathed turban doing remarkably good business. Awed admiration was excited by the wearer of a jersey suit of bright flame-colour, eminently trying in bright sunlight to most complexions, but an ensemble carried off in this instance with audacity and success. Almond green gowns looked delightful, in particular one worn by a flower sel-

ler, splashed with impressionistic blossoms of hetereogensous colouring and skilful stitchery. Peacefully apart from the restless crowd were one or two patients from the Hostel, and one hoped they enjoyed the shifting kaleidoscopic scene. Interest was centred in some carving by one who has suffered, and still suffers, from war disability, who of his generosity sent along the ‘sereen, a clever representation of a Maori pah, to help the cause. A beautiful act, coming from one who has given so much for his country.

On leaving, as I passed a fringe of. lavender violas, my eye concentrated on a charming group, which might well have been christened "When We Were Very Young." Posed for the camera, young limbs fell into easy gracefulness. Green-garbed elves tip-toed against long banners of creeper that closly clung to whiteness of wall, in the foreground crouched a handful of winged sprites, while against a tree lounged negligent Pan, leopard skin slung round slim body, reedy pipe to lips. The Youth of the World, it seemed, and might have come straight from a happy, lovely tale of Hans Andersen. Joan says standing room only was the order of the afternoon at the Welcome Home accorded to Lady Ferguson by the Otago Women’s Club. Punctually at the appointed hour came'the able and charming President who, by grace of a rarely magnetic personality, attracts all grades of society and seemingly antagonises none. A rare gift, this, and not to be lightly regarded. The club reception room was decorated with massed hydrangeas, its attractiveness further enhanced by willowpattern plates sent from England by Mrs. Colquhoun. Very beautiful in pinkish heliotrope, a drooping rose in the black velvet hat that made so attractive a setting for dark eyes and silvered hair, Lady Ferguson’s address to the members was of great interest, perhaps the most appealing being an account of the great work of the Child Welfare Club in London; it also being good to be told that New Zealand products are finding great fayour at Home. On the day following this pleasant function in Dunedin there was a goodly gathering for the laying of the foun-

dation ‘stone of the new Town Hall, successfully accomplished by His Worship, assisted by the Mayoress and the Architect (Mr. Mandeno), while Ministers of the Crown sat to attention. Bands played, flags fluttered in brilliant sunshine, the Prime Minister adorned the dais, and so did Mrs. Coates, looking delightful in white; also the Hon. Downie and Miss Stewart, the latter petunia-clad; and Mrs. Mandeno, beautifully befurred. Among the guests were Mrs. Taylor, in enviable furs and a velvet hat, Sir Charles Statham, with his ST a

accustomed bonhomie, Mr. and Miss Denniston, and Dr. and Mrs, Merrington. During the week I have read Mary Borden’s "Flamingo," which runs to a multitude of words, and though interesting, as it cound not fail to be from the author of "Jane, Our Stranger," there is at times an unpleasant tang that was not absent from other work of this original and | brilliant writer. In "Things as They | Are" Miss Delafield tells an "over true tale’ of marriage, somewhat dull, somewhat irksome, with a round of everyday duties and an inarticulate husband, to the wife, aware of approaching middle-age, comes a would-be lover, charming and debonair cnough to disturb the even ripples of existence; yet, when all is said, she clings to that same existence, says farewell to romance, and goes on "doing out the duty." A quite unoriginal theme, but told with all Miss Delafield’s vivacity and sure touch on life’s little ironies. Engrossing are the verses-al-though for some of them, expletives would seem a more suitable descrip-tion-of that most modern poseuse of them ali, Miss Edith Sitwell. Of an imagination and gift of delineation of the most fantastic and tropical, a staccato wealth of words, and a form of literary expression more chaotic than Browning at his best, this slim little volume leaves one mute, not altogether in admiration. The least bewildering begins thusTike sky was of cinnamon, Siars were like cloves, The wind cherubinical, Fawning and finical, Wears silken gloves, Came the great paianquin.

Rather fascinating, and faintly reminreminiscent of Francis Thompson’s lovely, fragmentary "To a Snowflake’; but much of Miss Sitwell’s work, brilliant though it is, proves intensely exasperating to people who prefer something with a tune in it, so to speak, or at any rate, what they can understand, even if it’s onlyTf you will lunch with me at half-past one, Yor’lt meet Maria’s unimportant son! "Your

ANNABEL

LEE