MAYFAIR NIGHTS.

Auckland Star, Volume LVII, Issue 276, 20 November 1926, Page 27

MAYFAIR NIGHTS.

ROUND THE TOWN. CLUBS FOR EVERYONE. j ul'£ST OF THE POETS. i By HOKAIE WI'XDHAM. Author of i 'The Mayfair Calendar," etc. ; it is practically impossible to be dubless. i'here is a for | everyone somewhere. Thus, in addition I to the will known caravanserais that cater ior the worlds of art, literature, politic?, society, and s-port. dozens of j (.'•hers exist. >obody is left out in the i cold. There are club* for acrobats and auctioneers: lor butlers and betting men, for dog-fanciers and demi- i reps; for jockeys and jazz-fans; for j muEimers and mannequin-; for playbooers and prohibitionists; for referees' and revivalists; for stenoera.pb.ers and spiritualists; and for tipsters and tramps. Also, for undertakers, vestrymen, wharfingers, and Zionists, etc. Nothing too ont of the way. Consequently, it is only in accordance with the ritness of things that there should i be a Poets' Club. I went to the inaugural banquet as a guest. I felt it ougjt to have been as a member, for I had just had a sonnet re- ; turned from the '"Nineteenth Century." | and it iras well within my knowledge i that other people had been elected with smaller claims. However, I bore no malice, and enjoyed myself heartily. Also, I did afterwards become a fullfledged member, and hurried off to Clarkson"s. or whoever it was that then had the contract for supplying the laurel wreaths with which we decked our brows. Of course, the committee ought to have be«n brought to bed in a jrarret. Not discovering a suitable one. for tae ; purpose, we did the next best thing, and had an inaugural banquet in a Soho cafe. The gathering was quite successful. Not Much Relief. Whatever London lacks, it is not the existence of societies fpr the specific purpose of affording pecuniary help to deserving applicants belonging to the literary profession- Presumably, t'aere is some approved method of securing such, assistance, but I have never had the luck to discover it. Indeed, most of them try hard to get cash out of mc. At any rate, half-a-dozen times a year optimistic secretaries send mc an invitation card, soliciting my patronage as "steward" at an annual banquet in aid of the "Society for Relieving Necessitous Novelists,"" or 'Destitute BestSellers," or some equally worthy objectIn connection witj. this matter, I heard last month of a really distinguished writer who, falling on evil days, approached one of these societies that exist nominally for the erpress purpose of holding out a helping hand to authors on whom the world has ceased to smile. The applicant in this case was much above the average, being a considerable poet, an essayist of ability, a very sound critic, a regular contributor to the more portentous and dull reviews, and with several quite well known books to hi? name. But all to no purpose. The committee would have none of him. "Very sorry. Mr. Sf>d:;e."' said the secretary, ""but we don't consider you eligible for our tielp. Of course, w? j know your excellent newspaper and I magazine work. That, hes-ever. i= just where the trouble lie?, because. you =pp. we regard you as a journalist." Tt was a disappcintmerT. but it the less gave poor > T n<fcjp an idea. Hurryin? off. accordingly, he presented himself at the nffioos of the Society for Relieving Destitute Journalists. " an.] pleaded his cause. Herp. however, ii- eloquence fell on eana'lv cfnnv STonnd. '"Can't da anything for you." declared the secretary, when the applicant had filled up innurrprable form?, answered dozens of searching oup-tion?. and supplied a preoi? ni the story of his life. "Tou see, we look upon you as an author."' At tie To-morrcw Club. We live in an odd u-orld. It contains people who like making speeches, and people who like listening to them. Hence, a club that caters for both p-roups £11? a niche. Such a one is the To-morrow Club. This is really a debating society, the members of which assemble on Thursday evenings, to hear somebody read a paper on a more or less ''literary""' subject, and afterwards to assist in tearing it to shreds. As most of the I members axe younc and daring, the disj cussions are apt to prove lively. Very often, they are much more lively than I the "paper , that has preceded" them. This, of course, is all to the good, and i prevents tedium. Yet, at the same time, this frankness has its drawbacks. More than one gifted stranger from the outer world, who has rolled up in a fur coat and a limousine, to spread culture among the members, has afterwards complained bitterly of being '"Tieckled/ When I first knew the To-morrow Club it held forth in a Long Acre garret ■which became inconveniently overcrowded when more than six peopk assembled there at once. From this address, it went on a sort of circulai tour round various parts of Soho. Tin Odyssey ended in a dash at the Caxtoi Hall, Westminster. Some of the smaller Bohemian clubs now mesh, patronised by Mayfair, hay* jl whimsical fondness for garrets. Othen prefer cellars, or at any rat* basements

Among the latter is the Mudio Club, with premises in Lower Repent Street. The Studio Club really ha* got an "atmosphere." But it is quite unpre-' tentious. Thus, no choreographic experts from America, to give "exhibition dances" on a glass floor: no be-wigged and velvet-breached lacqueys hunting for tips: and nothing e.\en faintly resen_ii>linc a bottle of champagne in the bar. Whisky and soda, coffee and sandwiches. ihis La about the limit. simple, too. are the cabaret sh-iws that wind up an average evening. All the talent i= furnished by ih» members themselves. As. however, the club is full '">t" j-eople. they generally give quite a? good a show a? the sort of thme for which one is charged a guinea in Piccadilly.