LIVING CELEBRITIES.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIII, Issue 13307, 13 October 1906, Page 5 (Supplement)

LIVING CELEBRITIES.

STORIES AND INCIDENTS. : Ok the telling of anecdotes there is no end. When one 'once begins it teems impossible to stop. Therefore, as space is limited we will not preamble. .\NK\I' ROTAI.TIKS. It. seems fitting to begin with royalties. : At the time that H.R.H. the Duke of Con--1 naught was lieutenant-colonel of the Rifle 5 Brigade at. Aldershot, Her late Majesty is- * sued an order that lie was only to bo saluted ' as an ordinary officer and not as a Royal l personage. It. happened that one morning i the Duke was driving with the Princess ■ when the guard gave the Royal salute. Im- ! mediately the Duke stopped to rebuke the ; sergeant. Hut the sergeant was Irish, and , a match for the Duke. "The salute is not ' for you. sir. but for Her Royal Highness, " who, being a member of the Royal family, is, of course, entitled to.it." This reply 1 had the effect of making the Duke laugh 5 heartily. When Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman . was Secretary of State for War, Queen Victoria wished to make the Tsar an honorary 3 colonel of a British regiment. The Prime Minister, as lie now is. demurred on the ' grounds that all other European Sovereigns : would expect to receive similar honours, i But as the Queen was willing that even this t should be. the Tsar was made colonel of the Scots Greys. Naturally the appointment 1 caused some excitement in the regiment. One subaltern was overheard saving to hi« j servant. Donald, the Emperor ot Russia has been made colonel of the regiment. ' •' lndade, was hi;; reply, it's a verra gran' thing for him, but will he be able to keep it-li places?" COHKY AND AVON. Maxim Gorky, whose name and writings are so well known nowadays, started life as a humble watchman in lie goods department of the Gryazi-Tsaritsin railway. Gorky's real name, by the way, is M. A, M. Peshkov. One of his then employers has still in his possession a. characteristic note written by the watchman: "I have, made friends with my' colleagues, have learned my duties to perfection, and carry them out accurately. The station-master is satisfied, and as a mark of his confidence entrusts me with the duty of emptying all the kitchen slops every morning. . Please let me. know whether it is part of my duty to carry the slops from the station-master's kitchen." The result of this missive was to cause the promotion of Gorky to the post of caretaker of the railway brooms Another Russian celebrity. Father Gapon, or George Appolonovitch Gapon, had an amusing experience while he was hiding with some English friends in a London suburb. A search was being made for Father Gapon all over Europe, but no one thought of looking on an English common. Whilst Gapon was. playing with the children of his host an evening paper arrived containing two telegrams. One announced his presence in Geneva; the other that a man in priest's guise masquerading as George Appolonovitch had been captured by some Russian factory hands and severely chastised. It may be interesting to add that George Gapon is the eldest of 19 children, and a priest ,of the Greek Church. AN ANTHONY HOPE STORY. To return to England.' . When one reads the popular novels of Anthony Hope one little realises that there was a, time when he doubted his own powers. One day Robert Barr, tho editor of the Idler, met a pale, and intellectual-looking young" man who talked so enthusiastically about books that Barr said bluntly: "Do yoja write?" Mr. Anthony Hope Hawkins blushed and confessed. " I would like to read something you have done," said the editor. The next day Ban- went to the rooms of his new friend and read to his heart's conj tent. He turned down the last sheet with a j sigh of content, and asked, "How much of | this stuff have you got?" . " Loads." "Would you like to sell it?" J "Rather!" j " How much do you want per thousand j words?" : "Oh. I don't know .really,'' replied Haw-" j kins. 'I Would a pound be too much to j ■**r | The editor laughed. i "You don't know much about this ,si- J ness. do you?" lie asked. "Nothing!" said Mr. Hawkins. But Mr. Barr was honest, and offered several pounds a thousand. An agreement, i was immediately entered into. Mr. Haw- i kins dropped his last name and signed him- I self Anthony Hope. "Does it matter?" he.asked. "It doesn't make any difference about the name," was the reply. "It's tho stuff that counts." And so it did v "SHERLOCK HOLMES*' OUTMATCH KI). Perhaps there is no other country in the world where, men are so famous as in America. If a man. is popular there it is with an enthusiasm that penetrates to all ranks. When Dr. Conan Doyle arrived for the first time in Boston city he was instantly recognised by the cabman whose vehicle he had engaged. When the. great literary man offered to pay his fare the cabman said quite respectfully: "If you please. sir, I should much prefer a ticket to your lecture. If you have none with you a visiting card, pencilled by yourself. would do." Conan Dovle laughed. "Tell me,' 1 he said, "how did you kuow who I was, and I will give you tickets for your whole family." " Of course," was the reply, " we all knew, that is all the members of the Cabmen's Literary Guild knew, that you were coming by this train. I happen* to be. the only member on duty at the station this morning. I had that advantage. If you will excuse personal remarks, your coat lapels are badly twisted downward where they have been grasped by the pertinacious NewYolk reporters. Yon hair has the Quakerish cut of a Philadelphia barber, and your hat, battered at the; brim and front, shows where you have tightly grasped it in the straggle to stand your ground at a Chicago literary luncheon. Your right overshoe has a large block of Buffalo mud just, under the instep, the odour of a Uttca cigar hangs about your clothing, and the overcoat itself shows the slovenly brushing of the porters of the through sleepers from Albany. The crumbs of doughnut on the top of your bag—pardon me—could only have come there in Springfield, and stencilled upon the very end of the 'Wellington' in fairly plain lettering is the name 'Conan Doyle."' Had it not been for the last sentence one would have believed that Sherlock Holmes had at last found his match. As it was the cabman was but. a wit. Sir A. Conan Doyle was once the chairman at a dinner of the Authors' Club, when he told the story of an English officer who was badly wounded in South Africa. The military surgeon had to shave off a portion of his brain which protruded from the- skull. The officer actually recovered, and later on when in London the surgeon asked whether he was aware that part of his brain was in preservation in a bottle, in his laboratory. The officer replied cheerily: "Oh, that does not matter now; I have a permanent position in the War Office." ' SOMK STAGE STOItIKS. When Ellen Terry Mas touring in the provinces with Charles Brook field in 1879 the "Merchant of Venice" was being rehearsed at a certain country town when an amusing incident happened. Bassanio came forward at the end of the Casket scene with outstretched arms, and ready, according to stage directions, to embrace the Lady of Belmont. Poor Miss Terry started back somewhat alarmed, then recovering her presence of mind said very politely, but firm--1} "No, Mr. Sykes, we don't do that busi"No, Mr. Sykes. we clout do that business ; youer—you merely kiss my hand. It's more Venetian.' " Oh, come. Miss Terry," expostulated Mr. Xvkes, with an engaging leer, "you are cut tin' all the ' fat' out of my part. I Some men prepare their own coffins and ! write their own epitaphs in anticipation of the great event. The actor Charles Brookfield was honoured by two obituary notices which appeared in the press whilst he was laid up "at (.'owes, Fortunately, both notices were favourable. One finished by remarking: "Never ft great actor, he was invaluable in small parts;" whilst the other concluded with. "But, after all, it. is »t his club that he will be most missed."