Annotations of Annabel

Radio Record, Volume II, Issue 24, 28 December 1928, Page 13

Annotations of Annabel

A DEAREST: . The year draws to a close amid brave summer days and the clear and cool atmosphere of our lovely land. Annual scrimmage in seething shops is over, last calendar posted, stockings stuffed, and Santa Claus has waved wistful farewell. ON the heels of the storm comes calm, we welcome port after

stormy seas, and still small voice Tol--lowing tempest with the whisper that we haye leisure at last. So, twisting tired selves, lissom or lengthy or in--clining to embonpoint, in deck ‘chair or hammock, we abjure madding crowd and silly season, and ponder problems of life and love and whether we shall tackle that form of torture yelept a permanent wave. ISTINGUISHED visitors flock for fishing, crowding in on our lakes and rivers. ‘Lucky people are en route for flushed sunlit loveliness of Mount Cook, the rose-fiooded memory of which brings sudden sharp pang of longing for high hills that lift themselves beyond these voices and whisper noble secrets to the stars. Y only incursion into realms of youth in the form of end-of-the year entertainment was at that given by the merry maidens of Chilton St. James, at Lower Hutt. Accompanied ‘"gisy the fluent and accomplished Juliet, ‘we agreed this was a clever, witty _ and charming show. HE play was the thing upon which was bent eombined energy of clever girls, big and little, who utilised fresh voices, delightful articulation, and considerable talent to exet Ben wn in on ne et tin inn hn Be oct. ao mh hema mace een ch hee nn de mame Aca hcmtshhoc@hhn sascha eee seen dct. . aia

cellent purpose. "The Quest of the. Cassowary" is a fantastic medley: of delicious nonsense, charming enough to ensure for it a long life, and ’twill be no matter of surprise if in future it is sought for its quaintness, originality, and scope for: talent, budding or full-blown. . ) ULIET waxed enthusiastic anent the ‘dark-eyed Gerda, that sweet villase mayde, who glimmered daint-

ily in and out of the lmelignt. Also very capably played was the calculating young plutocrat, her rival for place and power as queen of the revels; while the Poisoner was a thrilling and majestic figure of fun. The splendid voice of this young treader of the boards, was heard to advantage as majestically she declaimed value of her diabolic stock-in-trade. Many and varied were the performers in this rosebud garden of girls, and all of them, from Cassim to Cupid, were good; but, imposing height and bearing garbed in flowing black draperies, with cabalistic embroideries, perhaps the exponent of the execrable Guleesh was most memorable. THE lilting music was delightful, and lyric and libretto witty indeed. As for that feathered fowl of destiny, the Cassowary himself, he proved thrilling as the Ancient Mariner’s albatross, appearing at insuspicious moments with enviable aplomb. I feel sure that if Mr. A. A. Milne could witness the gyrations of that brave bird, he would make a poem about it for Christopher Robin. WHICH reminds me of the accomplished Mr. John Drinkwater’s latest essay in verse. Dramatist and saattenaratenet PPPTTTTITTTITITITITITITITITITITITITITITILITILIT TTT TTT

poet, he now tries his hand at childish doggerel, and in "All About Me" it would seem that, in the vernacular, he has once more "got across." Of an astonishing versatility, Mr. Drinkwater writes with equal ease of Cliver Cromwell’s austerity, analyses melodious beauty of the Victorian school of poetry, creates an amusing comedy like "Bird in Hand,’ and now proves he ean steal away the heart of a child. How amusing and idiotic he is-

Mr. Smith had’ quite a lot of daughters Who went to Bath each year to take the waters. Mr. Brown had quite a lot of sons, Who went to Bath to take the buns. ALTHOUGH no visionary, firmly. I hold conviction that dreams come true, even in this plain. world. That wise moralist, Ralph Waldo Emerson, was of the same opinion, and wrote dignified caution against crying for the wrong moon, so to speak, and hitching wagon to undesirable star. ‘What you wish for you shall find," said he, or something like it. So when The New Year blithe and bold, my friend, ; Comes up to take his own, -. clutch the sometimes forlorn hope that recurrent morning of the months will bring along our heart’s desire. And it may be that thus we shall go on until, the last page turned, we find Tn heaven, perchance, new chances, One more chance ! Your

ANNABEL

LEE