CLUBS SPELL COMFORT.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, 24 April 1913, Page 26

CLUBS SPELL COMFORT.

Some amusing remarks on clubs were made by Mr. Plowden, the wellknown London magistrate, at a lecture to .a Richmond Club. He belonged to two clubs, said Mr. Plowden, which were diametrically opposite in character. One was famous, with great traditions, but it was a terribly dull place. There was none of that “How are you, old fellow; what’ll you have?” Many of the members never removed their hats, even, and when they were in the rooms scowled at any later arrival as much as to say, “How did you get in? It must have been by some awful fluke.” One member had wittily said, “It is not a club at all; it is like the country house of a duke, with the duke lying dead upstairs.” That was the club to which he w’ent, said Mr. Plowden, when he felt particularly sulky eV disagreeable. When he felt lively, and was enjoying life, he went to the other club, where they all sat down to dinner at the same time, and afterwards adjourned to the bil-liard-room and smoked. Everyone talked to his neighbour, and almost invariably found he had something interesting to say. Mr. Plowden advocated making the membership basis of clubs as wide as possible, and said that it was the English climate that made clubs necessary. Abroad, where they had a sunnier and more even climate, everyone went to the cafe. The people lived in the streets, and no class distinctions were required. A thief could sit down at a table next to a duke, and no one would be the wiser. A cafe spelt amusement, a club spelt comfort, so some supervision of the membership was essential.