A POPULAR SCOT.

Auckland Star, Volume LIX, Issue 261, 3 November 1928, Page 17 (Supplement)

A POPULAR SCOT.

M This Guy Lander."

HARRY LAUDER'S STORIES.

ONE FOB AUCKLAND.

THE CADDIE WHO LOST THE TOSS

If a universal plebiscite were to be taken of the most popular Scots of all time there can be little doubt that bracketed with Robert Burns would be Harry Lauder, the rest nowhere. •In their different ways they have sung themselves into the heart of mankind. His reminiscences cover the amazing rise from the miner boy's grim struggle to keep above the line dividing poverty v from penury to the world-wide acclamation of the idol of the music halls, And the history is garnished with stories of arduous work, of .trials and reverses, Send above all of the pawky humour which has endeared the great comedian to audiences in every corner of the globe. Feeding Pigs. Harry Lauder's first job, at the age of eight, was to feed old Wattie Sandiland's pigs for sixpence a week. It was work he would at that time gladly have done for nothing, but. he only held it for two "Alas, my weekly sixpence did not continue after the fortnight, for one of Wattie's pigs choked itself to death through trying to eat a piece of hard dumpling which had been thrown away by some housewife. Probably it was the first she had ever made. In any case, the pig died, and old man Sandilands blamed me for letting the pig eat it in the first instance and for not immediately acting as veterinary surgeon when I saw that it was in difficulties. I was sacked on the spot. To add to the injustice, I was unable to sit down with any degree of comfort for a week or ten days." A Reduced Fee. After his first sensational success in London, the great little comedian was inundated with contracts for years ahead. In the early flush of triumph he accepted them all, only to find himself bound at figures which were ridiculous in relation to his popularity and drawing power. He promised himself revenge: — " Sure enough, in after years I found myself in the position of being implored by a well-known London manager to accept a contract from him for two of his biggest halls. "' Tell him,' I said to George Foster, then my agent,' that he can have me for four hundred pounds a week! ' " Foster rang me up in a few minutes and said he had delivered my message, but that the poor man had had an attack of heart disease on learning my terms. He was frothing at the mouth and quite inarticulate. Could I not come down in my price to a reasonable sum ? "'Yes,' said I, '111 come down to ■ f four hundred and fifty! And if he doesn't accept that my next reduction will be five hundred. Ask him if he remembers refusing me an extra pound twenty years ago! ' The contract at four hundred came along inside an hour,"

It was not long before America called for Harry Lauder, and he went. The landing was inauspicious, for he had just read a cruel preliminary notice, and in consequence refused to be interviewed. Klaw and Erlanger, the agents, sent some representatives to meet him, and one of them carried back the following discouraging report:— "Boss," he is reported to have said, "this guy Lauder has arrived all right. He's roarin' at the pier porters an' generally playin' hell with. the noospaper men. Threatens to kill every critic in the States that don't stand for his act an' boost Scotland as the king nation of the universe I He's four foot nothin' in height, so short-sighted that he has to wear telescopes for eye-glasses, an' looks all of a cheap emigrant. Boss, you should see his old coat an' baggy trousers; 111 tell the world he ain't no snappy dresser. If this poor boob is a barnstormer, FU throw in on an acefull! " Tossing for the Honour. Being a true Scot Sir -Harry finds recreation in golf, and has many amusing etories of experiences on the links in all quarters of the world. Perhaps the best one relates to Auckland, New Zealand:— "The first time I played there, some years ago, I had the same caddie for two days running, but on the third day a strange boy came up to the first tee and handed me my driver. ' Hullo,' said I, 'you're not the same boy as I had yesterday and the day before—is he illt' ' No, Sir Harry,' said the lad,' he's quite well!' ' Then why is he not caddying for me to-day?' I asked. ' Well, sir, we tossed for it to-day—l mean we tossed which of us shonld carry for you,' replied the boy, looking just a bit sheepish, or sulky—l wasn't sure which. I must confess that I felt a little elated that the New Zealand caddies should toss among each other for the honour of carrying my clubs. 'So you won, did you?' I went on. 'No, sir,' came back the prompt answer, 'I lost!' Think it over, folks!" "Good-Night, George." Harry Lauder has sung many times before the Royal Family, and on one occasion, after his performance, he was summoned to the Royal Box to have a chat: — "On making my way back to the dressing-room, Mr. Ashton, the_ wellknown concert agent, appeared in the corridor, and with him was the Duke of Connaught. I was introduced to his Royal Highness, and was standing speaking to him when Ashton moved off up the 1 corridor. 'Well, good-night, George,' 1 shouted after him, 'and good luck!' Before the words left my mouth the King had emerged into the corridor from his box. With a broad smile on his face he turned in my direction and cried out, 'And good-night and good rack to you, Harry.' I war overwhelmed with confusion at the awful thought that I might be held as taking jocular liberties with the King-Emperor, and stood riveted to the spot. But King George went off laughing very heartily at his own joke."