SUCH AMUSING PEOPLE!

Radio Record, 8 July 1938, Page 13

SUCH AMUSING PEOPLE!

Strange Doings at Heathingcote Hall Chronicled For The

"Record" by

EDISON WATT

(Who was reminded of them by the stranger case of iwo English visitors of title who have never seen a "talkie" ).

Lady Metcalfe, of that quite quaint old-world village of Winkworth in Surrey, should be a lesson to us, sir, an object-lesson that the backbone of old England is still solid bone. You will recall that Sir Theophilus and his good lady admitted with some modesty to an Australian newspaper man that they had not yet found time to see a talkie, but they had met Shirley Temple on a nark bench in Honolulu and thought her quite a nicely yo visit to Wellington of Sir Theophilus and

= = brought-up child. Let THAT be an object-lesson to us, sir, that the ruling classes of Old England are still capable of seeing through the tinsel of false modern shadows and of getting down to the root of things in matters of character. I have not yet had the pleasure of visiting that ansint old-world village of Winkworth .in Surrey.

a OO but some I hope, ‘sir, I shall do myself well, sir, and stay for a month in the quaint old-world inn in that quaint old-world village.

_ There, perhaps, sir, I should find the same peace, the same sensation of solidity, the same conviction that I was among peopie who retained their perspective-as I experienced the time a char-a-bane, in which I was travelling, broke down at Heathingcote-by-the-Weald in Norts.

It was a sharp December day, sir, and I realised we were really in a corner of old, unspoiled England, when the robins cume to sit hopefully on the spare tyre of the char-a-banc. We were, I admit, a moderate.ly hetergeneous party-Miss West, who, I believe, has something to do with the cinema; a coloured gentleman, Myr. Louis or Lewis; a Swedish lady named f{lavhaan: a Mr Ctryochv: and a

wee wwe COO a Oo Veer eae lClCUAMltltiéa™C‘(R((™ German tourist, whose name I cannot quite remember but bad something to do with hitting or striking. There was also a young New Zealander with us, and I believe he called’ himself G. Mirams, Esq. . Arriving unexpectedly for dinner, such a party might well have embarrassed any host, but Sir Jason Heathingcote and his charming wife, Lady Gwyffld Heathingcotecame of a long line of hosts and hostesses, being in fact descended from the original Heathingcotes-who entertained King Canute and his retinue after an unfortunate difference of opinion with the North Sea. They received us with charming old-world. courtesy among the suits of ° armour in the hall. . I shall long remember the consummate tact with which Sir Jason instructed the butler to serve Mr. Lewis below stairs and bent in courtly fashion over the hands of

Miss Garbeau and Miss West. Lady ifeatningcote was no less gracious. She led the ladies, chatting in her beautifully-modulated voice, ta her bower-the only one left in Norts., and I heard her inquire from Miss West if she were related to the Wests of Wessex. Miss West replied-rather tact-

lessly, I thought-that she didnt, nuh, remember anyone of that name round the old home-town, but her mother had

travelled an awful lot when she was young. . « « The scene in the oak-panelled dining-room of Heathingcote Hall that night was memorable. At the head of the table, Sir Jason cS ee. a Se eee, . . a ee |

CULLVeCLeScCU wills AAs TF HS. UN on his right Miss Garbeau. Lady Heathingcote, simply gowned in antique brocade, laughed with a charming lilt at the witticisms of the German touris?: and the young American. "You must see my pictures later," said Sir Jason. when @ lull had fallen in the conversation, and the face of the young iman from New Zealand brightened considerably. He asked

eagerly were they pre-releases, and Sir Jason apologised with a whimsical sthile, for his ignorance of artists later than Reynolds. , Lady Heathingcote was explaining to Mr. Crosby the juice of lemons was excellent for throat affections, when the German: interrupted in a vulgarly violent tone that the Jews of nowhere vas goot for noddings. For a moment there was a hiatus in the atmosphere of gocd cheer, but with the savoir faire of his caste, Sir Jason gently turned the conversation from such dangerous ground. . , "Miss Garbeat and Miss West, my dear," he said, "tell me that they are connected with the films." A delicate furrow clouded Lady Heathingcote’s brow. "The Wilms?’ she queried. "Now, let me see ...-. isn’t there a family of that name in (Continued on page 39.).

. Amusing People EDISON WATT AGAIN (Continued from page 13.) Hants. Or is it Bucks?" Sir Jason laughed deprecatingly. "The motion pictures, my dear," he explained, "The kinematograph." And they both laughed deliciously. "And furthermore," he continued, "Miss West tells me she has been connected with practically every major film producer jn the--ah---Eollybush, isn’t it, Miss West?" "Hollywood, Baronet," sald Mise West, undulating, "and you flatter me, I’m sure. Why not come up and... ." "Now, now, Miss West,’ said the young Mr. Crosby, somewhat nervously, I thought. "I’m‘sure Sir Jason would not be interested. As a matter of fact I know Hollywood quite well myself." "Indeed, Mr. Crosby," said Lady Hetheringeote, "and what do you do there?" "As a matter of fact," said young Mr. Crosby, "I croon. I’m a crooner, you see, " Lady Hetheringcote’s trill of laughter rang out in the old hall like the ripple of water in a cool dell. "How sweet!" she exclaimed. "How jolly ripping! You dear young man!

And how many childréen-have'you?" ~ "It’s a wart on my tonsils, you see,’"’. explained Mr. Crosby, somewhat out of his depth. Sir Jason coughed delicately. Again, with the adroitness for which their class is famed, Lady Hetheringcote veered the conversation. "And Miss Garbeau," she said, "how do you like our England after your . native Norway. . "Ay am a Svede," rejoined Miss Garbeau, somewhat brusquely, creasing hex eyelids like crepe paper, Lady Hetheringcote murmured in my ear: "So difficult, foreign politics, Mr. Watt, what? Come, ladies, shall we withdraw? I think the music-room Is more airy and bright at this time of the year." "Goot, goot," gaid the German tourist rising abruptly. "Der vay leadt to this Aryian room, no?" Young Crosby pulled bim down hustily. : "Tay off, Adolph," he whispered urgently. When we joined the ladies, Lady Hetheringeote was seated at spinnet singing some quaint old [English air. Miss Garbeau was standing alone by the window, and when Sir Jason approached her she. began slowly: "Ay tank... ." "Yes, yes," said Sir Jason, a little hastily, "a tank, as you say, I loathe © and detest these modern contraptions. but one must admit the demands of progress, what? Keep up with the times. It augments our well supply in . the summer months, you know." Mr. Crosby was standing by the spinnet and sang a note or two. "There, Mr. Crosby," said Lady Hethering¢ote, rising, "don’t be shy. Sing up, like.a ~ good man, sing up!" I must admit young Mr, Crosby had a most pleasant voice, if q trifle embittered. The air he sang bore some faint resemblance to a waltz, and the. entire party was most Intrigued by his singing until the German tourist sprang’ =p suddenly and shouted: ae eee "Jd iss a threat, you ‘me, Am-~ erican schwinehund, hein? I yill remember Vienna, vill I! I der gestapo On to you Vill sool. I you to an essence gamp Vill sendt... ." It was with some difficulty we pacified him, only to find that a most distracting pandemonium had broken out in the servants’ quarters. Sir Jason was dbout to investigute, when the col-’ oured gentleman who had been dining below stairs burst in holding his left eye, which would under other circum- ° stances have been black. He was.fol--lowed by a domestie in some distress, ahd an exceedingly irate gardener’s boy, who brandished a ham-like fist and cried: "Let me at the blackamoor, bai goom, Oil. . With a sternly upraised hand Sir Jason quelled the disorder, and, having ascertained the cause, instructed. the butler and the footman to throw Mr. Lewis (or Louis) down the front steps. He then apologised to his guests with a frank smile, adjusted his tie with a slight econgh, and inquired Mr. Mirams’s opinion of the fine old Van Syke, "Lady Godiva in a High Wind," which hung over the mantelpiece. Thoughtfully, the young New Zealander replied : "J wouldn't put my shirt on it." Shortly afterwards the party broke up, and Sir Jason, standing in the oak-panelled. hall, handed each guest a candle to light them to the 24 guest rooms in the left wing of _the old (Continued next page),

(Continued from previous page). manor house. For a moment Miss Garbeau stood at the head of the stairs and veiled her eyes. With. a signifieant glance at the candle she said, in low, husky tones: "Ay still vant to be alone!" and swept majestically down the corridor with her drapes rustling, Before he left the German tourist pointed violently at something behind us-using his whole arm and hand in a most remarkable manner. When, after following the direction of his gesture. we turned back, he hed gone. In a thoughtful voice Sir Jason said: "He must have seen the ghost of old Sir Montgomery, who hanged himself over the lintel when Charles I was bebeaded. ... Strange, very strange." Miss West and the others then bade our host good-night, Miss West remarking cryptically that she was glad her bedroom was on the second floor. With that Sir Jason and I took a last glass of port and retired. The memory of that strange dinnerparty has confirmed my faith in the savoir-pas of the British aristocracy for all time,