The Australian Stage

John Stanger Heiss Oscar Asche (aka Oscar Asche, 26th January 1871 – 23rd March 1936), was arguably Australia's best known and certainly most successful theatrical export during the Edwardian era. Born in Geelong, Victoria, and educated at Melbourne Grammar school he led a somewhat shiftless life until determining upon a career in the drama. His father, a Norwegian emigre, agreed to fund him to study acting in Norway. At Christiana, he received a grounding in the theatre arts and also met Henrik Ibsen who advised him to work in his own language. Asche then went to London to finish his training and it was there that he made his first professional appearance as "Roberts" in Man and Woman. He then spent the next eight years gaining acting experience with the F. R. Benson company, where he met Lily Brayton, another member of the company, whom he married in 1898. The couple regularly appeared together in various productions for Benson and later in Beerbohm Tree's company before setting up in management on their own account at the Adelphi Theatre in 1904. The productions they mounted there included "The Prayer of the Sword", "Tristram and Iseult" and "Count Hannibal" (which Asche co-wrote [from the French] with F. Norreys Connell), as well as various Shakespeare productions including "A Midsummer Night’s Dream", "The Taming of the Shrew", "Measure for Measure", and "Hamlet". The Asche's transferred to His Majesty's Theatre in 1907 and produced there Laurence Binyon’s "Attila" and more works of Shakespeare.

In 1909, the Asche's took their innovative approach to Shakespeare on a tour "down under," to Oscar's homeland, Australia - the story of which tour is recounted in the period article reproduced below. On their return to England, the Asche's scored a major success with Edward Knoblauch's arabian extravaganza, "Kismet", which opened at The Garrick in April 1911 and ran for over 300 performances. Their greatest success however, came in the similarly styled "Chu-Chin-Chow", penned by Asche and starring himself and his wife in the lead roles of Abu Hasan and Zahrat-al-Kulub. It smashed all box-office records and ran uninteruptedly at His Majesty's theatre for five years - a total of 2,238 performances. It later toured in America and Australia.

The success established a great reputation for Asche as a writer, producer and director, and in those capacities that he became one of the most influential dramatists of the 1920's. By this time he was enjoying a large income but his costly off-stage pursuits, particularly owning and racing a large kennel of greyhounds, left him never far from the brink of financial ruin. Several film appearances in the 1930's and a successful career as a writer never fully solved his financial troubles and he became increasingly ill-tempered and argumentative with age. Asche and Brayton seperated for a while but had re-united before her death in Dawlish (England) in April 1953. Asche died at Bisham, in Berkshire, of coronary thrombosis in 1965.

Whatever credit may be attached to the recently concluded visit to Australia of the Asche-Brayton company; however successful so big an undertaking was; how far-reaching in influence and effect upon things theatrical there in the future, that credit - without disparagement to the artistic assistance of his fair wife and partner - should be awarded Oscar Asche, the deus ex machina of the enterprise. It was his in conception - peculiarly his. Oscar Asche is nothing if not a bold man. Herculean tasks are to his liking. Obviously a man of striking personality and strength of conviction, he deliberately thrusts aside convention, and strides out boldly on his own path of assurance.

The task of conveying to the Antipodes a company, complete in personnel, with five hundred tons of scenery, properties, and all the appurtenances of production required for an extensive repertory, was in itself one of magnitude. Add to it the fact that the company were to stand or fall by Shakespeare, and the magnitude swells in the light of the risk run, artistically and financially, by so young a management. To fail meant not only a monetary crash but a serious slump in the stock of personal popularity it had taken so many years of hard work to earn. A "frost" in "Sunny Australia" would have powerfully reflected on the careers of Oscar Asche and Lily Brayton at home. Our weather is hardly more susceptible to change of conditions than are the reputations and fortunes of actors to the change in tastes of an ever fickle and capricious public. Unprecedented, then, as the project was - boldly experimental - it was peculiarly Aschean to attempt. It was characteristic of the man that, attempting management "on his own" for the first time, he acquired a lease of His Majesty's. He is determined to "achieve greatness," and his aim is always purposeful, direct, and high. No theatre of less importance than the first in the land suited his plan. Oscar Asche...

English actors shook their heads doubtingly on the prospects of success on our departure; Australian actors prophesied failure on our arrival. The first feared, the latter were assured; both were wrong. For some time Oscar Asche had received offers to star in Australia with Miss Brayton, but declined because these did not allow of their being accompanied by the full English company, staff, and accessories which had contributed to their joint managerial success. To produce the plays in the same complete manner as they had been presented in England was part and parcel of Mr. Asche's plan, and from this he declined to waver, and this important point Australian management, which up to recent years was in the hands of a kind of "close corporation," with one man J. C. Williamson at its head, would not concede. Messrs. Clyde Meynell and John Gunn, however who were known some years ago as provincial managers in England, had entered into the arena, and with a strong backing set up a vigorous and healthy competition with the firm of Williamson, and, in order to bid high for public favour as worthy competitors with that powerful monopoly, came to terms with Mr. Asche on mutually advantageous lines. That Mr. Asche should insist on being supported by his well-tried company, to whose methods he was accustomed and with whose limits and styles he had been acquainted for years, showed not only sound judgment, but a modesty much to be commended in "stars," who are not unaccustomed to consider themselves "all and all sufficient." That the result turned out in accordance with his belief has been a source of gratification to the artists who served him and his wife loyally, and I might say with affection. I do not say that Mr. Asche took out a perfect company, or that there were no actors in Australia who could do better in some, or perhaps many cases; but I do say this: Shakespeare, properly played, had been a somewhat negligible quantity in Australia; there had been insufficient opportunity to acquire the style, and practically no "training ground"; that Shakespeare with some of the best stars had failed in consequence of bad or irresponsible support, and that Mr. Asche showed wisdom in insisting on his accustomed support, so that he and Miss Brayton should not be affected by new surroundings. However, there is no gainsaying the fact that we were looked upon by many as undesirable "imports," and much relief was felt in the actor-land when we were shipped off as re-exports. There were some bitter attacks in papers of a scurrilous order for taking the bread out of the mouths of "starving Australian actors." One article was headed "Australia for the Australians! Invasion of Alien Actors!" occasioned by the announcement that, following in the footsteps of the Asche-Brayton company, Sir Herbert Tree, Sir Charles Wyndham, and the chief members of their companies were coming to Australia. It now seems that Mr. H. B. Irving is going to increase the number of Australian "imports"; but it must be apparent to the most shallow and prejudiced player there that, in the long run, the Australian stage is bound to profit in every direction by the "invasion of (these) aliens," and that "free trade" in amusements between the Old and New countries must redound to the credit of both.

... to carry round broadcast the good work of Shakespeare as a counteracting influence of the rubbish that is doing duty as the drama in the majority of places in the Commonwealth, which is rightly hoping, rightly struggling for a National Drama of its own. Given a Benson, his organisation, his training-ground, and add to them such combinations as Mr. Asche'e and the others mentioned as bright examples, this hope will be fulfilled, for the people of Australia are ripe for anything good in the shape of drama, and the Press are only too anxious to welcome and to boom the good thing.

Already Australia has reason to be proud of its stage traditions. She has welcomed to her shores, among others, G. V. Brooke, Barry Sullivan, Creswick, Walter Montgomery, Edwin Booth, Wilson Barrett, Robert Dampier, and George Rignold, who have set up a high standard of dramatic work for which there will always be ready a large, sympathetic, and generous public support. J. L. Toole paid Australia a much-belated visit, and suffered in consequence. In other light vein followed Fred Leslie, Nellie Farren, and dozens of our best light comedians, both in comedy and burlesque, and on the vaudeville stage our highest-paid music hall stars reap harvests. They are anxiously awaiting a visit from Harry Lauder, of whom they have only an extensive phonographic impression. Harry Rickards, once a popular music hall singer in England, is now the impresario of the vaudeville stage, and I have an idea that there will shortly be formed a kind of world-circuit system, under the joint direction of Rickards and certain big people at home, to run artists out from England, taking in South Africa and Australasia.

It may be useful, as a record, to give the names of the company who supported the Asches in Australia. They were: Misses Constance Robertson, Elfrida Clement, Carolina Bayley, Florence Allen (Mrs. Fritz Russell), and Florence Gretton (Mrs. Kay-Souper); Messrs. R. F. Anson, Athol Forde, Herbert Grimwood, G. Kay-Souper, Fritz Russell, Caleb Porter, George Relph, Gordon Harker, Ian Penny, Charles A. Doran, Ewan Brook, John Flanagan, Arthur Trantom, H. Tripp Edgar, and Edward Ruthven (who died in Melbourne). In the staff were: Mr. and Mrs. Mat Coverdale, Mr. Charles Homewood, Mr. William Reynolds, and Misses Minnie Champion and Emily Davis. Miss Bessie Major (who was in Australia) and Miss Deborah Nansen joined the company there, and there were several ladies and gentlemen (Australians) who joined for experience in small parts and understudies. Mr. B. A. Meyer was general manager, and remains behind in Yea, Victoria, having left theatrical life for farming with his wife, Miss Dorothy Grimston (Mrs. Kendal's daughter). It is to be supposed that theatrical reunions will vary the monotony of sheep-shearing and cow-milking on that farm.

The position of musical director to the company was supplied in the efficient and popular person of Mr. Wynne Jones, and the important post of press agent (so absurdly neglected in England) was in the hands of Mr. Phil Finkelstein, to whose untiring energy the Asches owe much of the success achieved. It is well to remember the work of Mr. William Noble, who, after the lamentable death of John Gunn, became the active representative in Sydney of the firm now known as Clarke and Meynell.

Enforced idleness through circumstances over which they have no control is a phase of the actor's calling, and may be looked upon as part and parcel of it. Actors put up with it as an inherent hardship, seeking in no way a remedy to obviate the disasters attendant on it, rather glorying in an inertia as to matters so nearly affecting their welfare, and taking balm in the belief that "it's no good worrying." It is seldom that enforced idleness takes the shape of luxurious lethargy in an actor's life, but it comes to him when he finds himself bound on a six weeks sea-voyage on a comfortable ship like the "Orontes," which, through good and bad seas, fair and foul weather, brought us safely to port "down under."

To many of us it had been a time of blessed composure after the storm and stress of stage life in the old country above. Leaving on May 28, 1909, we arrived in Melbourne on July 7, touching Plymouth, Gibraltar, Marseilles, Naples, Port Said, Suez, Colombo, Freemantle, and Adelaide, en route. The "Bay" was on its best behaviour, as was the Mediterranean. In the Canal and the Red Sea we suffered from sweltering heat, and there were two deaths and burials at sea. In the Gulf of Aden a man disappeared - I suppose suicide through the heat unhinging his mind - and people lay hors de combat, their hearts almost ceasing to beat, and everyone too helpless to assist, even were physical help of any avail. From this sort of experience we plunged into the savage fury of the Indian Sea, luckily for us having the monsoon in our wake. The worst weather was encountered in "the Bight," which might well have been spelt Bite, for its resemblance to a huge mouthful bitten out of the Australian continent by a southern sea monster of oceanic proportions - the waves breaking over the captain's bridge. By this time we had steamed into a cold clime, all beds had vanished from the deck o' nights, and we felt exhilarated after all the sweltering heat we had endured for over three weeks.

It cannot be said that we were not heartily glad to near the point of our debarkation and work, and on the morning of July 7, as I have said, we sailed into Hobson's Bay, Melbourne, and by half-past nine we were entrained for the capital of Victoria, where we were booked to open ten days later. For the next few days Oscar Asche and his wife had to go through a ceaseless round of receptions and entertainments, besides the daily rehearsals and preparations for the long-anticipated opening night.

Mr. Asche was born hard by Melbourne along the bay at Geelong, and was educated at the Melbourne Grammar School, and it was appropriate that the Melburnian Society, comprised of old boys, should be the first to offer him welcome to his native land, which they did the day he arrived. The deputation waited on him at his hotel (Menzies), and some cordial speeches were exchanged. Mr. Asche recounted how as a youth he had begged to be given a part in a school play-production, but the master who had the control over the matters theatrical in the school refused his application for the reason that "you will never make an actor, Asche." Nothing daunted, Oscar Asche, after, putting his hand to business, went to Sydney, where he obtained an opening as an actor, and his father afterwards sent him to Norway to study under Biorrisen, who, seeing prospects in him, advised his going to England, where, after a hard struggle, he enlisted under the Bensonian banner, with the successful results known.

In a like manner to the above followed receptions at the University, the Austral Salon, and various clubs. Being elected an honorary member of the Savage Club, I happened to be there when he was received one afternoon. The Club is much of a muchness with our Savage Club, but did not go through the vicissitudes of the latter's early history. Nothing kinder than the hospitality shown us by the Melbourne Savages could be imagined.

A tremendous amount of interest was evinced in our opening night, and the booking was phenomenal for Australia. The event was heralded as "the greatest in the annals of the Australian Stage." The crowd, which waited London-like, was immense. I can only liken Oscar Asche's reception in the guise of Christopher Sly in the induction of "Taming of the Shrew" to one of the old Lyceum Irving nights. If there was not that tone of endearment which always characterised those historic receptions, there was a wild enthusiasm such as I have never seen excelled. Above the din of applause and shouts of "Welcome" was the shrill Australian "Cooey" from the gods, which signified more than anything else that he was come among friends. Scarcely less cordial was Miss Brayton's welcome. The Press not only heralded the coming of the company in a most generous manner, but was lavish in its encomiums on the opening piece. It was considered "a fitting opportunity for the erection of a statue to Shakespeare," and variously characterised as "the most memorable performance ever given in Australia," "the most notable of first nights," "the greatest theatrical achievement," and its fitting consummation "the greatest triumph!"

All people in Australia, even those whose parents were born there, speak of England as "home." It is only when you add "and there's no place like it," that they tell you they can "knock it sick." We had hardly opened when our hearts were filled with sadness at the death of our rising young stage manager, Edward Ruthven, "Teddy," as he was familiarly and affectionately called by us all. He died in a private hospital of an internal complaint, after two operations. Miss Brayton was with him to the end. The death occasioned Mr. Asche much grief, and showed us a man with a large heart. "Teddy" lies in the Melbourne cemetery beneath a stone erected to his memory by the company.

The opening season in Melbourne, originally planned for six weeks, lasted three months, during which "Othello" and "As You Like It" were performed after "Taming of the Shrew"; "Julius Caesar" was put on at the Town Hall for a matinee, and played in costume with a background of black velvet. This permitted of people seeing Shakespeare performed in a place outside the meaning of a theatre, which their religious scruples perhaps forbade them to enter. It is well to add that many were the scruples removed by this performance. The "Shrew" did big business; "Othello" did better; and "As You Like It" was said on one or two nights to have beaten all records. But I take it that "Othello," beyond all other plays, was the greatest money-maker. The Williamson management in the meantime had staged "As You Like It" in Sydney, where we were announced shortly to produce it. Nellie Stuart, the ever-green Australian idol, was the Rosalind. I might here state that in '58 G. V. Brooke appeared as Jaques, with Mr. Wigan as Corin, Mrs. Charles Poole as Rosalind, and Miss Herbert as Celia, at the P.O.W. Theatre, Castlereagh Street, Sydney. In '63 Barry Sullivan played Jaques at the old Melbourne Royal to Robert Heir's Orlando, Charles Young's Touchstone, and Mrs. Heir's Rosalind. Australians arriving from "Home" tell tales of the ignorance of the English of things Australian. It is well, then, to inform these shockingly ignorant people that though there is still plenty of gold to be found in Australia, the streets are not paved with it, nor is it to be had for the mere scratching; that one has to work very hard to make a living there; that its big cities are already over-crowded; that unemployment, as usual, is evidenced therein; and without an actor takes money to tide him over a possible, and very probable, long wait out, he has little chance if he goes seeking employment in Australia, and this despite the fact that the actor there is "no prophet in his own land."

Before leaving Melbourne Mr. Asche put up a notice in the green room to the company to become acquainted with the following plays for production under black-velvet conditions: "Coriolanus," "Timon of Athens," "Titus Andronicus," "Pericles," "Antony and Cleopatra," and the three parts of "Henry VI." With the contemplated production of "The Honeymoon" we felt we were in for a nice long holiday. Happily, for the business, but unhappily for the exercise of our "study," the original programme of the tour caught on so splendid that we were spared the study and enjoyed the holiday.

Speaking of holidays, I need not tell those who have been to Sydney what a glorious time we had there. Nature has been too lavish, and has given in abundance of her best. I think it was Anthony Trollope who wrote of Sydney that one had but to visit it to make up his mind to go home again, pack up his household goods and belongings, and go out there to live. Yes, one could almost give up the dear Motherland for Sydney, despite such drawbacks as its "larrikins" and the women's jarring voices - a kind of Yankee-cum-Cockney blend. In Sydney we played to what the papers term a "crescendo of success." Constant trips and picnics up the harbour and visits to the glorious Blue Mountains enhanced the enjoyment of our sojourn in this "city of pleasure."

England has possibly seen the last - for some time at any rate - of G. S. Titheradge, for he has bought a house and property at Sydney, and means to stop. He is a tremendous favourite, and both as the Admiral in "The Flag Lieutenant" and as the Village Priest he scored success. Julius Knight, of course, is the star actor in Australia, and his popularity among the ladies would have made the "Keen Order of Wallerites" Society sit up and blush.

From start to finish Oscar Asche was a star under a lucky star. Arriving at Sydney on a Friday, we opened at the Criterion on the Saturday to a packed house. On the following day our "Guv'nor" and party were out in an electric launch in the harbour when a southerly buster suddenly sprang up, and over went some small sailing craft. Mr. Asche went to the rescue, and was just in time to save two young people, not only from a watery grave, but a speedy dissolution in the jaws of the ever-handy sharks. I need not say that the news quickly spread, and a bold advertisement resulted. On the following Saturday a nice little "thousand to sixty" came off at Randwick, the very beautiful principal racecourse of Sydney. Mr. Asche was a generally regular attendant at the races, and frequently scooped in a big pool.

The news of the death of John Gunn came to us as a painful shock during one of our matinees, and spread a sad gloom around. The performance was hurried to an end, and the house closed that night. It may be said truly that all who knew Gunn, whether his stage employes or his most intimate friends, learned to love him and do now revere his memory. He was at once the kind, indulgent master and the most sincere and generous of friends. I had known him on and off for nigh twenty years, and he was one of the first to bid me a hearty welcome when we again met down there. His death from pneumonia may be directly attributed to the overwork, strain, and anxiety attending our opening. He had supervised the reconstruction of the Criterion Theatre, involving over 4,000 expense for stage-enlargement for our big productions, and had sat for hours together in the new damp offices, neglecting his meals and rest times. He was buried at Waverley, where we left poor Gunn in his grave of sand by the sea waves, whose spray-bloom was being borne gently by the wind over the mass of floral tributes on his last resting-place. It is at Waverley, too, where poor Amy Roselle and her husband, Arthur Dacre, lie, as, too, do John F. Sheridan and Robert Dampier.

For the concluding nights in Sydney Mr. Asche staged "Taming of the Shrew" and "Julius Caesar" (without scenery). The latter created such a remarkable effect at the Town Halls that it was decided to transfer it to the theatre proper, and in the part of Brutus Mr. Asche bade the Sydney public au revoir.

The company were booked to return to Sydney at the end of the Melbourne season for a further ten or twelve weeks engagement. Returning to Melbourne for the Christmas season, the company resumed the run of "Othello" interrupted at the height of its success to admit of the public seeing Lily Brayton's charming portrayal of Rosalind in "As You Like It" and then followed the production of "The Merchant of Venice," staged with some very lovely scenery, properties, and effects, prepared locally. Portia's garden at Belmont was especially "a thing of beauty," with fountains plashing in the moonlight. Another novelty was a scene within Shylock's house, where, after locking up his money-bags and jewels, he says good-night to Jessica, being "bid forth to supper" with the Christians, and wanders out into the night, and his daughter is seen to rob him of his ducats. Beyond this Mr. Asche played Shylock with a Jewish accent, and instead of making an entrance with Bassanio in "A Public Place," was discovered seated at the window of his house with legs crossed and back to audience.

Miss Lily Brayton played Portia some years ago with Mr. F. R. Benson, but this was Mr. Asche's first appearance as Shylock. Mr. Asche departed from the accepted reading of the dignified Jew, and gave us a performance of uncanny malignance, with occasional humorous touches, such as the old tradition tells us was the common reading of the Jew prior to Macklin. Whether he is right or wrong, the unconventional is always interesting. There are many new points in Miss Brayton's Portia which denote careful study and originality of thought.

During this second season was produced "Count Hannibal," which became pronouncedly popular. Then back to Sydney - the "City of Pleasure" from the "City of Business," and here I may quote from a letter I sent THE STAGE from Sydney under date of May 4, 1910:

"The time is now approaching when we shall bid farewell or is it to be only au revoir? to the shores of sunny Australia and embark for the land of the Big Smoke! To be precise, we are playing the farewell fortnight at Sydney with "Count Hannibal" in the bill. Coming to Australia for an intended six months, we are playing thirteen, and still the rage goes on unchecked. Success has succeeded success uninterruptedly. Pelion has been piled on Ossa.

"By the date you receive this we shall be opening a short season at Adelaide, and from there we go back for a third and farewell season at Melbourne. Sidney, as I have already said, is unapproachable, though there are some people who claim for Rio that it is the most beautiful place on earth. Of course, it must be compared from the point of view or views as a harbour, for Sydney is the harbour and the harbour is Sydney, and it is hard to conjure up anything more enchanting than Sydney, with its fifty, or a hundred, or hundreds of harbours, bays, rivers, and inlets in its harbour. The city itself is nothing much to boast of, except its marvellous rise. Nothing can stop that; its natural advantages are an impelling and compelling force to render it a great and growing centre of commerce, science, and, in the future, art.

"I am writing this from my balcony, from which I enjoy the incomparable view of harbour water stretching out octopus-like in all directions through near islands and distant hills, over which the sun is now sinking, leaving behind rays, the richness in colouring of which is seldom seen in the old country, but which disappear rapidly in twilights all too short.

"We shall be glad to see all this again before we die, and when we come back - if we come back - some of us might be tempted to remain among it for the rest of our days; for, as I have said before, Nature has given in abundance to Sydney, and given of its best. However, hearts are wildly beating to return to the land of our birth.

"To revert a bit before my pen bears me away from stage-land - which, of course, is the subject of my story - there is as much difference between a Sydney audience and a Melbourne one as between chalk and cheese. Sydney is cool in comparison. Climatic perhaps, for here it is a humid and clammy atmosphere, and in Melbourne it is dry, and I take it the Sydney folk perspire too freely to wax enthusiastic over anything but their harbour.

"Coming to Melbourne. What about Melbourne? Oh, I love the audiences there, with their wild bush-cry of 'Cooey!' as the Asches make their entrances. We are all known there individually and petted by the public in accordance with the parts we have played, or how we have 'gone on' for them. Yes, Melbourne seems more homely and cheerful to us, for they warmed up to us at once, and without offence, let it be said 'Melbourne for Society' as well as business - the street-people are superior, the girls dress better, and the larrikins are less objectionable. The people walk on the right side of the pavement, and sometimes apologise when they jostle you off into the gutter. I suppose, at Toorak, a Melbourne South Kensington, one comes among as well-bred a set of people and as charming society as may be found in any part of the world.

"After our short stay in Adelaide we produce at Melbourne Tobin's 'Honeymoon,' with the following cast:

The production of "The Honeymoon," though everything was done from the point of view of picturesque mise-en-scene, failed to vie with Shakespeare or even Stanley Weyman for success, but might be far more acceptable to a London audience with its thousands of admirers of the elder style of comedy-drama. "The Merry Wives of Windsor" fitted the company like a glove, and went with a scream to howling business.

At 7.30 in the morning of a raw winter's day in July the first enthusiasts arrived at the doors of the old Royal, and at eight o'clock that night the curtain rang up on "The Shrew" in an atmosphere I may describe as positively electric. Everyone was somebody on that occasion, the smallest fry getting a hand on entry. To Mr. and Mrs. Asche was awarded a wonderful welcome on their appearance, and a tearful farewell to the strains of "Auld Lang Syne," played and sung by the orchestra and vast audience upstanding. Mr. Asche put the big result of his company's visit in a multum-in-parvo phrase, "I came here," he said, "hoping to find you had kept for me a small corner in my old home. I found you had given me the whole hut."

The send-off from Port Melbourne of the company per R.M.S. "Orsova," which took us to Perth, was stupendous. Special trains were run to the pier, and the crowd mustered an enthusiastic 5,000. Miss Brayton and her husband cast hundreds of button-holes down from the upper deck to the "star"-gazing throng, and, finally, the Guv'nor sent his best bowler flying among them, for the possession of which a wild scramble was made, and finally captured by one whose head was entirely smothered in it. Once more the thousand cosmopolitan voices joined in "Auld Lang Syne," and the enthusiastic Caledonians sang "An' will ye no come back again"; and thus ended a phenomenally successful visit to "God's Country" or, rather, the east of it.

As in the East, so in the West, wonderful business was done. What is a big house in Melbourne is a comparatively small one at His Majesty's Theatre, Perth, and each performance drew overflowing audiences; and, again, "Othello" beat all records, and was played on the farewell night. Perth, perhaps more than any of the other centres we visited, presents brilliant prospects of future prosperity, and it would be well for a few hundred young, aspiring actors in London and the provinces to shake off the yoke of inauspicious star-gazing and make their way out there and get on the land, the railways, or the mines. Vast areas for wheat-growing are being opened up, and fortunes rapidly made, and there is every sign and belief that huge territories, as yet unexplored or unsurveyed, will yield mineral wealth untold to-day. Workers are all that are required, and the Australians will give them a hearty welcome, and if they have to handle a shovel or ply a pick they will be looked upon as gentlemen so long as they behave as such. Now, my actor-brethren, get the limelight out of your eyes, light your pipes with your press-notices, cast the shadow of an obscure "future" from you, and strike out for this land of sun and freedom.

I had some reason to believe I left some impression behind among the canine breed for I was instrumental in establishing in both Sydney and Melbourne dogs homes on the lines of ours at Battersea. Up to then a municipal cart and a man with a lassoo went the rounds, capturing any poor stray or lost dogs and taking them to a lock-up till a monthly auction decided their fate. Five shillings was the limit, under which no animal stood "an earthly." "How much for this beautiful bitch?" the auctioneer would say, holding up the article by its tail, if not too heavy or vicious-looking. "Three shillings." "And sixpence." "Four bob? .... All done at four bob? .... Put her in the tank. Joe." Blob, splash, gurgle! a despairing whine, and a good, faithful creature, who might have been a true friend to many a squatter or his men up country, was added to the promiscuous slaughter. At Melbourne we gave a benefit show, which drew a house of 217, and one in Sydney 100 odd. The dogs have now a society in each place for their protection, a house to be taken to, and a lethal chamber in which their sufferings may be painlessly ended.

We brought home many "pets" with us in the shape of parrots, galahs, laughing jackasses, etc., and the writer is hopeful of rearing a fine magpie, which he has already taught in the sorrow of his own heart to say "Macbeth," act two, scene one. Mr. Asche sent home two beautiful greyhounds, presented to Miss Brayton in Melbourne, which always accompanied her on to the stage on her first entrance as Katharine. These, with the two English greyhounds at home and half a dozen other dogs of different breeds, make up quite a collection at St. John's Wood - a private dogs home, in fact.

We sailed from the shores of Australia on August 25, and arrived home on October 1, 1910. We left Perth, per R.M.S. "Otway," in mid-winter, with a great, warm sun shining over head, and wild flowers blooming in rich profusion, carpeting hills and dales for miles around, and we sailed into the same dear, dirty, damp old Channel fog, being nearly run down by a manoeuvring battleship carrying no lights the night before we landed! From the warmest of welcomes in that land o' the leal to the mother of free nations that gave it birth. We cannot but look back half in sorrow, half in pleasure to our visit; sorrow at bidding farewell to homes in which we were accorded a welcome so truly colonial; pleasure in thinking we leave behind us a useful, if not ineffaceable impression on dramatic memories that will, in some measure, make amends for the void we were made to feel we left in so many dear hearts "down under" by our departure.

Primary Sources: History of Australia (George William Rusden), www.hat-archive.com, www.cultureandrecreation.gov.au/articles/theatre/ and others as indicated.

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The Asches in Australia