Some of the younger Burnands have greatly
distinguished themselves, and they are all perfect dears, so unaffected,
kind, and genial.
Sir Francis never jealously guarded his fun for _Punch_. He was always
generous with it. Once when my son had an exhibition of his pictures, I
asked Mr. Burnand, as he was then, to go and see it or send some one on
Mr. Punch's staff. He answered characteristically!
"WHITEFRIARS,
"London, E.C.
"My dear Ellen Terry,--
"Delighted to see your hand--'wish your face were with it'
(Shakespeare).
"Remember me (Shakespeare again--'Hamlet') to our Sir Henry. May you
both live long and prosper!
"GORDON CRAIG'S PICTURES
He opens his show
A day I can't go.
Any Friday
Is never my day.
But I'll see his pictures
(Praise and no strictures)
'Ere this day week;
Yet I can't speak
Of them in print
(I might give a hint)
Till each on its shelf
I've seen for myself.
I've no one to send.
Now I must end.
None I can trust,
So go I must.
Yours most trul_ee_
V'la F.C.B.
All well here,
All send love.
Likewise misses
Lots of kisses.
From all in this 'ere shanty
To _you_ who don't play in Dante!
What a pity!
Whuroo-oo
Oo-oo-oo!"
BITS FROM MY DIARY
What is a diary as a rule? A document useful to the person who keeps it,
dull to the contemporary who reads it, invaluable to the student,
centuries afterwards, who treasures it!
Whatever interest the few diaries of mine that I have preserved may have
for future psychologists and historians, they are for my present purpose
almost worthless.
Pages:
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