A MILLIONAIRE IN MEMORIES By Frank Gerald The author of
these reminiscences (Routledge, 12s. 6d.) was , not born yesterday. He was born, in fact, eighty-one years ago, and, amongst many other things, has learnt that reminis- cences of the stranger-than-fiction type must be told with conviction. And, as an old bam-stormer, he knows the art of presenting improbable material : the art of laying it on thick. What material Mr. Gerald's memory has supplied his pen with ! He was fortunate in his family. His uncle introduced him to the gayer side of London life in the 'seventies, taking him to all the resorts of the man-about- Town, including Evans's, " where only chops and steak were served, where ladies were , kept behind a wire grille, and a boys' choir sang."_ Law was the profession chosen for h!m, but when he decided to throw it up and seek adventure is New Zealand, his family did not attempt to dissuade him, but actually financed his recklessness, though when he finally arrived there he had only Os. 8d. in his pocket—having dropped off the boat at Cape Town and stayed there long enough to see something of the Boer war as a member of the Cape Mounted Police. Then he organised a theatrical touring company, and spent twelve years barn-storming in settle- ments and mining-camps all over Australia—years packed with excitement. Such incidents as his escape from a horde of savages over a collapsing bridge and the horse-race he rode to win a wife are the stuff of which serial film melo- dramas used to be made. Mr. Gerald tells us that he often wrote his own sketches and plays. His pen has not lost its
cunning, -
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