It must not be supposed, however, that the subject of this article is a photographer of children only. Between them, eighty-nine exhibitions in various parts of the world have awarded him something like a quarter of a hundredweight of medals for exhibits of all kinds, while he has also photographed nearly every adult member of our royal family and innumerable celebrities. In this branch of his work, however, Mr. Byrne has to content himself with the artistic, and leave the novel severely alone. For the Prince of Wales, considerate sitter though he is, would hardly consent to have himself "caught" in an old boot, or Sir Ellis Ashmead Bartlett, though he does much to amuse his fellow members of Parliament, permit himself to be represented emerging from an aluminium egg. So the "properties" have to be laid aside at times.
"I DON'T LIKE PHOTOGRAPHERS!"
"The Queen," says Mr. Byrne, "is one of the best sitters in the world, very rarely moving or spoiling a plate. That abomination of all studios, the head rest, is quite unnecessary in Her Majesty's case. The Prince of Wales takes quite a keen interest in photography himself, and when sitting will go to considerable personal trouble in order that the results may be successful. The Prince will get together a royal group where anyone else would fail. The German Emperor is a most genial sitter; but his pose before the camera is apt to be rather stiff, and his expression somewhat stern. Nearly every royal sitter, in fact, has some peculiarity which one finds it one's task to moderate without destroying altogether."
But we are no nearer Mr. Byrne's secret. How were the "unhappy" pictures obtained? Stories are told of fond mothers, waiting in anterooms, being horrified to suddenly hear piercing shrieks proceeding from the studio. Breathlessly they have dashed in, to find Mr. Byrne all smiles, baby all tears. When the proofs came home, the picture showing baby crying was generally voted wonderfully lifelike, even if it was not selected for general distribution.
These strange rumours are referred to, and once again Mr. Byrne is appealed to to withdraw the veil; but yet again he smiles and replies as before. Which reply, it is to be feared, the mothers of England will accept with the customary condiment.
