"THE ROSE OF ELKHORN."

Marlborough Express, Volume XLII, Issue 91, 16 April 1908, Page 7

"THE ROSE OF ELKHORN."

-Mr Thomas Watson, who is well- j known in, Marlborough, has now ! fairly launched his novel "The Rose of the Elkhorn,' an advance copy of which has i"cached us. It is such a , rare thing, for New Zealanders to yen- j ture upon hovel writing that the; event would in any case be worthy of j more than passing: notice, but par- j ticuiarljr is this so when Marlborough may claim the author as her own. A.] generous support will therefore be! given to Mr Watson in his new ven^ j ture, more especially when, we, are able to assure +.he reading public that, , the new book is one that is well worth their attention. The story is fully of inteiest,. and is well written. The... scene is laid in Northern California, ; and the period is the stirring time when the gold fever was1 over the land. ! There are some good, strong, charac-; ters in the book, and ai least twb love stories; and Indians, the in- { evitable villian, the faithful Vaquero, j and the Irish cook all go to'make up a tale of the strongest possible in- j terest. As an example of what may be expected upon perusal of "The! Rose of tie Elkborn,' we may 'give ' the following extract from the sayings of the scout, one of the quaint char- I acters so cleverly depicted by ....xe ! author:— . j "Oh, yes," he continued with more energy of tone: "You've got your socalled philanthr'pist and other chaps, who want men to believe they're a layin' up a big heai> of bully deeds to their credit with the Almighty, but you bet when some supposed giltedged checks are handed in to Saint Peter, there'll be a bump that'll startle the jack rabbits on the prairies of Mars."

" Yer biggest philanthr'pist is often the man who's all the time a hoggin 5 everything to,himself, though it means next to starvation for thousands that are too dum white to i>lay the same hog's game. Ye kin bet yer bottom cent Cap., thet the booster who's piled up his millions durin' his own short workin' day, has placed to win every time, damn who lost." "Yes; as far as man's happiness is concerned, your civilisation's a way down failure: and as fur his physical outfit, why, he's gittin' as kronk as a broken winded cayuse. Your city chaps, reared on bad air, an' slop foocL that would kill a fifty-year-old rattlesnake, hain't in consequence, no more grit.than_dough-nuts. You've got to S£W fi T- lm' or by Snm they'ed ?£ v l e T>izened gopher*. 'Taint £ ii?? phere of ,*» continent can't early settlers m this country I suess Irerh^Jl^ t™ Sners^tlet kill urn ft Stlckt* ■ T hy ' y°u couldn't "Silk dressed flour?"

"Yep; thet's number two. Number' one's the pace. It's the pace that lolls, 'specially when there ain't no great shucks of a constitution to kill. It s a regular h—l to Halifax or bust rate, thet most of the crowd travel at nowadays, an' I reckon it generally ends in bust. Es fur silk dressed flour, I guess it foes all the iron an' i magnetism an' tilings thet give it i ginger, took out, an' nothin' left but starch. Starch may be-all right for stiff'nin' biled shirts, but you bet you, it don't put stiff'nin' into men." j "Man thinks he kin improve on the Almighty's work, but it generally ; happens thet finally he hes to git out !at the little end or the horn."