MRS KEHDAL’S JUBILEE

New Zealand Times, Volume LXXVI, Issue 5288, 28 May 1904, Page 10

MRS KEHDAL’S JUBILEE

TiiF FAMOFS ACTRESS TALKS. ANT) TELLS SOM 1C ANECDOTES AJIOL'T JJKJtSKLF. A London interviewer went, up to Nottingham to interview Mrs Kendal, (ho famous actress, about her theatrical Jubilee. "Come all tho way from London to see me I ,'’ sho said. "Hut why ?” •AVo (bought you wore (laving a theatrical jubilee,” the interviewer said humbly. "1 really didn't know it,” Mrs Kendal replied. ‘'Si ill, yon are a journalist, and. of course, yen are sure to ho right!” And sho mentioned certain newspaper mistakes which no journalist likes to ho reminded of.

"Do you desire to make mo responsible f” groaned the interviewer. "No. no, my dear sir! Heaven forbid that f should he responsible for all tho sins of my own profession!” Then, taking pity on mo—"Ah, well,” she said, "f’m afraid I’ve never been very gentle with you journalists. You see, my father was one, and my brother was one, so I suppose I inherit a kind of prejudice against tho profession. Rut 1 think I know tho story that you have in your head about the jubilee, ft was one my poor sister used to toll. “At. ouo time my father was managing Hie old Marylcbono Theatre jointly with Air Maercady— not the great, great, great Aiacrcady, but bis sou. They wore playing a piece called “The Seven Poor Travellers,” an adaptation from Charles Dickens. Charles Dickens, you know, was an old man when I was a little girl. I was only a baby at the timo. but I bad to play tho blind girl and come nc to the stage with my eyes shut. Well, as soon as I got on the stage, I opened my eyes ami saw my nurse, in front, and called out, “Nurse, look at my new shoes!'”

“A dear old actor, named E. F. Edgar—lie’s dead now, dear old man—sent mo the old playbill many years afterwards, and told mo I ruined the piece! Rut do you think that people want to know about these things nowadays?” “Wo always think so/’ tho interviewer said.

“I doubt if they do. AVby, I remember tho time when the ladies used to begin waving their handkerchiefs before Sims Reeves appeared on tho platform. People used lo chip when they beard the first bars of Patti's 'Homo, Sweet Home.’ Don't you think that kind of emotionalism has jiassod away? People aren’t liko that nowadays. “Now, I’ll toll you a piece of news that really will interest your readers. Last week wo were at Cheltenham, and I wont to visit tho real live grandson of tho great, great, great Alacready. That is Captain Macroady, of tho Gordon Highlanders. And I talked to the widow, the relict of tho great, great, great himself! Isn’t that interesting? “Now, if you want to know anything about my younger days, you must go and ask such men as Byron Webber or John Hollingslicad. They aro iho people who wox'e just in thoir prime when I was a> young girl—they'll tell , you lota of things about mo. But I can’t think yqu’ro right about the fiftieth anniversary.”

“Then wo won’t have it tho fiftieth anniversary.”

“My dear sir, I don’t mind about that! You can’t alter my age by writing it down wrong Call it my centenary if you like. I’m proud of my age. I don't think there are many women likp me I”

“I played my first real part when 1 was fifteen, and people said then that I looked twenty-five. I’ll tell you a funny thing that happened to me.about that time. I was playing at Old Drury in my brother’s play, ‘Dreams.’ That was tho very first time that a hansom cab appeared ou tho stage. Well, one day the horse got frightened by tho applause and backed the cab into Baroness Burdett-Coutts’ box. Wo all jumped out apd were saved, and the men in the orchestra rah away and were saved, and the Baroness was saved! - “Do you know, at that time tho ladies thought it was wonderfully brave of mo to drive that cab across the stage every night; but, bless me! I loved it. I always loved horses, I was always going about in riding boots, and my brother was always writing ‘riding’ parts for me I used to play tho piano on tho stage and sing at tlio same time. Would you believe it, that was considered a wonderful thing at- that time!

“Well, it you go to Byron Webber or John Hcllingshead, give my lovo to them, and tell them I sent you. You may be a year late or you may be a year or two too soon. I know that it was in tha ‘fifties-’ but I don’t remember the date. lam afraid I forgot a lot of things that happened then. Now I shall have to go back. Good-bye.’’