LITTERARY COLUMN.

Evening Post, Volume LXIV, Issue 119, 15 November 1902, Page 3 (Supplement)

LITTERARY COLUMN.

NEW BOOKS AND NEW EDITIONS. "In the Bush Shade." By Henry Lambert Thompson, author of "Musings in Melody," "Sonnets and Rondeaus," etc. Robert A. Thompson and Co., Melbourne. H. Baillie and Co., Wellington. We are not acquainted with this writer's earlier works, but we do not find in the forty or so pieces in this collection anything likely to entitle Mr. Thompson, to an abiding place in the roll of Australian poets. There is poetic thought ; graceful lines are not wanting ; here and there the author has just missed producing a piece of work satisfactory from every point of view — but the unity of effect is marred by some structural flaw — an ill-fitting epithet, a far-fetched simile, or redundant expletives only too obviously forced in to eke out the measure. The pieces are nearly all sonnets — the first lines are usually good, but the poet's mastery of his material is imperfect, his verse is rarely musical, and his closing lines too often dwindle off into a disappointing anti-climax. 'Ihe poems have all, or nearly all, appeared in various Australian weeklies, and their tone is unexceptionable. The author is no moping versifier. "Sing not of sorrow," he says in his opening lines, "for our skies are blue," "Sing clear and gay as the fair heaven's hue. Sing thou, of joy, the world doth heed it, too, Sad songs it wants not with its work to do. Sing thou the songs that help it in the fight, Sing thou of -hope, and thou shalt sing aright, Sing thou of love — of purest love most true ; Sing not of sorrow." The sonnets are largely topographical, dealing with special localities — some with noted spots, such as Sydney Heads and Mount Wellington, Tasmania ; others with quiet nooks less knovrn, or wholly unknown. A curious reflection occurs in the. closing lines of one of the latter, on "a virgin nook " in Tasmania : "Perchance its loveliness no man has seen • Before, but now to me it has "one * blotNot soul alone, but all my manhood sees Its virgin purity, and some worth flees In this regret — vile man has found this spot."' Apart from a certain awkwardness of expression, there seems to be here a jarring note of insincerity. A notable instance of the contrast in quality between the opening and closing lines of a sonnet is found in "Midsummer at Franklin Harbour," which , begins : "A stretch of .lonely beach, a shapeless shore, Calmly serene, by summer breezes fanned," and thus prosaically ends : " — this diy, scrubby plain Will yield the linest wheat the world can grow." A "Ballade of the Litany" is a striking ■paraphrase, remarkable for fidelity, simplicity, and dignity, with one exception, but this is a fatal one. Constrained to find rhymes for the refractory word "world," the author has resorted to expedients which reduce otherwise fine verses almost to the level of burlesque. ' In a sonnet on Tasmania th 6 same unfortunate rhymes appear, though with less disastrous effect. He sometimes takes audacious liberties with accent — for example, "relief accented on the first and "nature" and "silence" on the second syllables. A writer may fairly claim to be judged by his best work, and the sonnet "In Melbourne" is, we think, one of the best in the collection. It is not very profound, and its not of pessimism is not habitual with tho author. It will be found iv another column. "Little Mother Meg." By Ethel" Turner (Mr. H. R. Curlewis). London : Ward, Lock, and Co., Limited. H. Baillie and Co., Wellington. Everybody has read " Seven Little Australians " and " The Family at Misrule." Every one will read the sequel. Meg, the young doctor's wife, is now the central figure ; she bas a baby boy — a real baby, quite unlike most of the infants of fiction ; but the old friends arc all here also — Major Woolcot, the young stepmother. Esther, v/ith her little ones Peter and Essie, Nellie at nineteen, little "Poppet" and "Bunty" and "Pip." Most of the incidents are simple and ordinary enough ; but there is all the

wholesome mirth and genuine feeling characteristic of Ethel Turner's work — the kindly human sympathy and the unmistakable touch of genins redeeming even the simplest incidents from any buspicion of the commonplace. Unexpected troubles have fallen on Dr. Courtney and his wife, and the author has the opportunity of developing a favourite theme — a young married pair facing adversity with fortitude and hope. The plot is slight, but well constructed : the Saville family with their " secret " and their unaccountable aloofness awaken curiosity, and pretty Nellie's love adventure will be eagerly followed by sympathetic maidens. The character of the wise and gentle stepmother is finely depicted. The story is- well balanced, the interest being well distributed among the various characters. As usual, there are letters — genuine letters they might "be, for they are full of true feeling and devoid of effusive " gush." Here and there may be found loose phrasing or carelessness of expression, but the reader is never repelled by false sentiment or ■bathos. Young people will simply devour the book, and will find the closing pages come all too soon. The " curtain " is effective; and we know some little folk who have followed the fortunes of the Woolcott family hitherto, who were not only delighted to renew the acquaintance, but -who fervently liope that wlien the Misrule gale is swung-to by the wind on page 266, it has not closed for the last time. A word of praise is due to the artist for excellent illustrations. "The Kidnapped President." By Guy Boothby. Illustrations by Stanley L. Wood. Lindon : Ward, Lock, • and Co. H. Baillie and Co., Wellington. Guy Boothby's books as a rule deal with adventures attended with desperate peril, and his latest story is no exception. It is difficult to feel much sympathy with the hero, a first-mate, whoj for a large bribe, undei lakes a very dirty piece of work in the interests of the deposed {President of a South American Republic. It is true that to some extent he retrieves himself as the narrative develops, but the black mark" of treachery is one not easily wiped out. The feminine element is supplied by the beautiful Senorita. Dolores, a puzzling character, and, in a minor degree, by the English sweetheart of the hero. The interest is well sustained, and the reader who makes a fair start with the book will not be likely to leave.it unfinished. (