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Actorviews
dinner-table anecdotage is sometimes less to his liking than the creative conversation of a London dinner in which the anecdote of a tomorrow is bora.
He told me of the manner in which Sir Edward Grey informed England that she was not bound to go to war, but that “there is honor, gentlemen, the honor of the country.” It was told in the hem-y and haw-y manner of the English country gentleman; but something in the air vibrated.
Then Sir Herbert struck the table four times slowly. Big Ben had boomed that many times just one minute too late — sixty seconds after Sir Edward had ceased.
“If you had been making that speech,” Tree said he had said to a famous London stage director, “you would have waited for Big Ben to strike.”
Then he turned on himself. He imitated the Scotsman who praised every player but one in Tree’s production of “Twelfth Night.” As name after name rolled off the burr, Tree had listened in vain for his own.
And finally, at parting, the Scot had said: “I’ve forgotten something important”; and Tree beamed on him, sure that his compliment was come at last. “Vurra important,” said the Scot. “I was reading an article of yours in the Fortnightly the other day. It was wonderful. You must have meestaken your vocation.”
And there was the lady with: “Oh, I went to see you as Herod ten years ago. It was remarkable. I never went to see you again.”
“You tell them well on you,” I laughed.
“It’s one of my favorite egotisms,” he laughed back.
“Speaking of the faults of an actor that may or