THE PREMIER'S BOOK.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 11770, 27 September 1901, Page 4 (Supplement)

THE PREMIER'S BOOK.

When the item which makes provision for the Government Printing Department, was under discussion on Sept. 24, members amused themselves mightily at the expense of a bock which, gorgeous in red and gold, has just been circulated. It is a narrative of the Right Hon. the Premier's tour to the South Sea Islands, and judging by extracts which were read in the House it is very diverting in places. Mr. Massey was unkind enough to read a passage which desscribed how the Premier gladdened the heart of one of his dusky Island friends. This gentleman of the South Seas, evidently possessed a picture of Her late Majesty Queen Victoria, and his bosom expanded with pride when the Premier promised him a photograph'of himself (Mr. Seddon) to hang as a companion picture. The phrase is that of the author of the book. The conceit tickled the House. Air. Pirani uprose to tell the tale of a South Sea donkey who was so intelligent that be recognised the Right Hon. Mr. Seddon from New Zealand. The writer of the book tells how the Premier mounted the donkey because the only buggy on the island was not big enough to hold'him. It was a heavy load for a small beast, even though it was an educated donkey, but it is pleasant to be gravely assured by our genial author that "the pride of carrying a real live Premier into the presence of a king gave it (the donkey) prodigious strength." This sort of humour is the kind of thing that members were reading from this marvellous work, and the House and the Premier laughed. Some enjoyed the foolery; others tried to look as if they did. There are two mysteries about this book. It appears that the first edition, -which bore the title "A Premier in Search of Health," was suppressed. Mr. Pirani made some covert allusions of the " I could if I would" order to the illustrations in this suppressed book. The curiosity about this first work is so great that Mr. Pirani was not rash when he promised it a ready sale if the Premier would only put it on the market. The second mystery is the authorship. No name appears amidst the gold emblazonry of the covers, nor yet on the fly-leaf. Someone is either refusing or losing immortality, for sfuraly there never was a more supremely unconscious humorist than the authoi of the tit-bits which were read out by Messrs. Massey, Pirani, and others. The author is probably wise in remaining in obscurity. As for the Premier himself, if the press begins to make fun of this book, as members of Parliament have done, he will perhaps pay any sum to say with Prospero, " Deeper than ever did plummet sound, I'll drown my book."