A TROUBLOUS TOUR.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Issue 1307, 13 May 1915, Page 36

A TROUBLOUS TOUR.

Miss Hardinge-Maltby, of the “Charley’s Aunt” Company, is one of the professionals of that bright little Wellington coterie. Miss Maltby comes from a well-known English theatrical family, and was through Australia and New Zealand with the WilloughbyGeach Company some years ago. During her residence in Wellington she has frequently been called upon at short notice to undertake parts with visiting companies owing to the illness of some member. Miss Maltby has firmly established herself in Wellington as a teacher of elocution and an active participator in the Shakespearian Club. In a chat to a “Review” representative she said the entry of the “Charley’s Aunt” company into two of the cities was marked with nerve-wrack-ing episodes. In Auckland, owing to the late arrival of the boat they did not commence their performance till 9.30. “It was a rough passage, and at 6 p.m.—three hours off landing—some of us were nibbling a piece of toast and wonder.ng how we would get our sea legs, and also congratulating ourselves that we would not have to give a performance that night, word having been sent at the eleventh hour to that effect. But, alas for our hopes! Before the ropes were made fast at the wharf, Mr. Bauer and Mr. Aitken were in communication, and to our horror we were fixed up to play. It seemed as if the whole of the Westralia exerted itself to get us off. I’ve never seen stewards anything but calm and collected. But even they got excited, and put everyone aside for us. ‘We must get these “Charley’s Aunts” off first,’ was the general cry! Defenceless passengers made way for us, and with parcels in each hand and staggering under the effects of mal de mer we ran down the gangway, were bundled into cabs and taxis, hus.led up to the theatre, and were on the stage before we knew where we were, making ourselves up almost as we went on! Truly it was an experience. And we all agreed that the Auckland audience showed its sporting blood in waiting so long and forbearingly.” “Christchurch, too, gave us cause to remember our first night,” continued Miss Maltby. “We had just come over from the West Coast, and after a strenuous time of travelling —two trains and a coach, not to mention an annoying wait —we got into the theatre at 10 past 7, with longqueues waiting for the early doors to open. We soon got busy with our make-ups; when Mr. Norman Aitken burst on the scene. ‘Has anyone seen my little bag?’ he demanded wildly. ‘What was in it?’ we asked. ‘Only my “Charley’s Aunt” cap and wig!’ he answered helplessly. We all looked aghast. Charley’s Aunt without the cap and wig, and nearly time io go on! It was unthinkable! “I must have left it in the taxi and I don’t know the number!” poor Mr. Aitken wailed. And off he rushed to all the hairdressers” shops in the city. After several fruitless visits, he encountered the very wig to suit him. ‘You can’t have that,’ said the hairdresser. ‘lt’s an order for an amateur recital.’ ‘Can’t I,” answered Mr. Aitken, with the audacity born of despair. And the urgency of the situation being explained, he obtained the coveted possession and arrived back to his harassed colleagues breathless but triumphant. “We feel now,” added Miss Maltby, “that we could give a performance from an aeroplane or in the trenches of the Allies!”