The Bold Baronet

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 532, 8 December 1928, Page 26

The Bold Baronet

As Seen by Hoĺywood

With a sigh of relief Sir Ernest glanced round the empty box and sank into his luxurious fauteuil. The stage, a riot of exotic colour, rang with the catchy choruses of "Tannhauser,” -while below him a sea of waving tiaras surged into the darkness; after a week's hectic gaiety he could snatch the first moments of calm and rest. But it. was not to be. Scarcely had he taken his place when a group of college chums in a neighbouring box spotted their boy-friend, and a welcoming cry rang out through the theatre: E.R.N.E.S.T. Ernest! He's all right! Who's all right ? Why, ERNEST' After that there could be no more concealment, and as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness he was able to distinguish the faces of his friends in the vast auditorium; and many a noble peer, many a knight, even, was gladdened bv a friendly nod and whistle. There were the Duke Wallaces, possessors of an income,from oil and other sources, of more than 100.000 bucks per annum, I,adv Aurora St.

James, whose marvellous eyebrows were insured for over half a million; the De Montmorencys (60,000 p.a.) were there in their usual place, with lovely Viscountess Pearl Gray (10,000 p.a.), the most beautiful debutante of fifty seasons. At length, with a parting smile, Sir Ernest lowered his opera-glasses and turned his attention to the stage; and even as he did so a tongue of flame licked across the magnificent backcloth and curled eagerly round the tinsel draperies of Odin’s hall. Fire! In an instant terror reigned, and it was as though all the blue blood of the Old Country must be wiped out at one fell swoop; for none would be the first to leave the theatre. In serried ranks they stood, proud and haughty smiles upon their aristocratic lips, while even the orchestra, many of them men of quite humble birth, stood grimly to attention, playing national airs and stirring marches. Half fainting with heat in his stage box, Sir Ernest extracted a cigarette from his emerald and diamond case and lit it at the flaming mise en scene. "Say, boys,” he called pleasantly through the clouds of smoke, “why not let your little old safety curtain out for a run?” A burst of cheering greeted this happy suggestion and swelled to a hurricane of applause as the line of grey metal made its appearance above the belching stage. Slowly it descended, slowly but surely, and many a baroni resigned to the thought of never seeing his little baronets again, drew breath and relaxed his frozen smile. Saved! But no! “Holy snakes!” cried Sir Ernest, “if the goldarned thing hasn't jammed!” Without a moment’s hesitation he jumped on to the glowing ledge of his box, took breath, and thence' with a mighty leap, sprang up and clung like death or glory to the red-hot edge of the safety curtain! Swiftly but with infinite caution he worked his way to the dislocated end and shook it as a terrier shakes a rat! There was an instant's tense silence, and then, with a ringing clatter, the curtain swept down to the footlights like a flash of red-hot thunder—but not before Sir Ernest had jumped clear and regained his box! “Gosh and hemlocks!” he exclaimed plaintively, flicking the ash from his tuxedo, "if my last cigarette hasn't gone out on me!” —MARGERY SHARP.