THE MAN IN SCARLET

Otago Daily Times, Issue 21980, 15 June 1933, Page 10

THE MAN IN SCARLET

TOASTMASTER’S . DRESS INNOVATION IN MELBOURNE. Enterprise and etiquette rarely, go hand in hand. They do so, however, in tha case of Mr Frank Nicholas, of Auburn, Melbourne’s first professional toastmaster. Clad in his scarlet dress coat, he is becoming a familiar figure ’ on public occasions on which he is .the arbiter, if not of elegance, at any rate of etiquiette,,and yet it is only nine months since he made his first public appearance. It was upon the late Mr W. Knight Smith, London’s most famous toastmaster, who was an intimate of princes and statesmen, says the Argus, that Mr Nicholas modelled* both his dress —which is really a survival pf the day when the guild toastmaster wag .distinguished from guests, and waiters by a scarlet sash—and his duties. Having announced his guests • his first cry from hig post behind the chairman * is: “Gentlemen, T pray you silence for the grace.” He then quietly effaces himself. t

The toastmaster goes out with the grace and comes back with “The King,” It is he who. when the loyal toast has been honoured, announces the, permission to smoke. It is he also who quietly but firmly remonstrates with any untutored diner who anticipates that permission. The stertorian voice which is the .first essential to his office sinks on that occasion to a shocked whisper. It is essential that the toastmaster should be an unimpeachable authority, on precedence. Decorations, too, must have no terrors for.him: he knows that the King’s decorations come first, and he so places them when he announces the proposers. the seconders, and the responders to toasts or the addresses and items of entertainment.

_ It is in dealing with the untoward incident—the eeatless diner, the “gatecrasher.” the noisy interrupter, the bursting bottle, or the 'missing waiter—however,' that the toastmaster proves his worth. Who but a toastmaster., for . instance, would have been so prompt, to the rescue when a shrieking microphone suddenly drowned the voice of a distinguished speaker at a recent dinner? It was easy—-he telephoned the broadcasting station —but the effect was as remarkable as if he had called-out the fire brigade and the police patrol. Mr Nicholas, who has been in evidence at a number of public schools’ dinners lately, was formerly a school master. Being a toastmaster is only a spare-time avocation, but it bids fair to become his mission in life. - ,