A GIANT AT WORK.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1789, 20 June 1906, Page 62

A GIANT AT WORK.

RECOLLECTIONS OF A JOURNALIST.

Probably nobody outside his own family and his private secretaries had such a good opportunity of watching Mr Seddon at work, and judging of- his mothods and his capacity, as the newspaper representatives who were associatwith him during the last few years of his career. The writer can look back seven years, a period embracing three general elections and the bulk of Mr eddon’s Imperialistic activity. During that time he was closely associated with the late Premier both in Parliament and in the oountry, and was able to size up his remarkable capabilities and capacity for work as well as the methods by which ho made work Hght or easy as tho case may be. MR SEDDON'S LATENESS.

Mr Seddon Avas rarely punctual. It was said of Sir Harry Atkinson, the last Conservative Premier, that he had a fixed hour for Cabinet—noon, I think it was—and that all other work devolving upon himself or Lju jolleagues had to stand aside for that. Hoav different with Mr Seddon 1 Cabinet meetings wore called at all hours, morning, afternoon, and evening. Very often the Premier was too busy at the moment the clock struck to keep his engagement, and his colleagues had to wait. When Cabinet did assemble it usually finished what it had to do before adjourning. That was the character of the man. Many a time he had to postpone a meal or even to go without it altogether, owing to the pressure of work in Cabinet, whicii net infrequently sat until midnight.

Mr Seddon never refused to see a deputation. Just about this season of the year, tho few w T eeks before Parliament assembles, there is usually a continuous stream of deputations from all parts of the country asking for legislation to be undertaken during the session. This was particularly heavy during the last few years on account of the licensing, land, Bibie-in-schools, industrial, and early-closing legislation. Many of the deputations were on matters of a purely departmental nature, and should never have intruded upon the time of a busy Minister. But Mr Seddon always agreed to hear them, and fixed a time for their reception. As oftep as not when the time arrived ho was “snowed up’’ with other work, which he could not pas& over for the moment, and consequently the deputationists were kept waiting. Still, most people knew that if Mr Seddon was not up to time for an engagement he was doing something of more pressing urgency ; and when he did arrive he gave his time and his attention so ungrudgingly to tho matter in hand that the interviewers invariably went away satisfied with the hearing they had received. NEVER CAUGHT NAPPING. Although he was of. tn taken unawares by deputation®, Mr Seddon had such a remarkable grasp of affairs in every part of the country, such a fruitful recollection „ of what was said or done on previous occasions, and by

whom, that he was very rarely imposed upon. One night at Grey mouth, when on his jubilee tour, a deputation of sawmillers entered the room to ask for protection against the importation of Oregon timber. Mr Seddon, utterly fatigued, after a long day—it was almost midnight—was lying back in his chair, with his eyes closed and his hands clasped, listening quietly to what was being said. Suddenly he interrupted a speaker—a tiling he very seldom did —and told the deputation plainly what he knew about the cost price of timber, the over-capitalisation of the industry, and tho probable results of protection. He wound up by telling the deputation the sawmillers were an exact counterpart of the Flourmilleref Trust, and need not expect the protection they asked for, because it would only recoil to tho detriment of the consumers.

Reverting to his lack of punctuality, it is worth mentioning that this extended oven to functions of a purely social and complimentary character. Tho oocasions upon which Mr Seddon was in tho room up to time could almost be counted on the fingers. It was usual to await his arrival, but on several occasions the guests at a banquet had reached the entrees before the arrival of the Premier, and rose to welcome him. ‘‘Proceed, gentlemen,” he would say, with a smile, as he took his seat.

When travelling in the country Mr Seddon always endeavoured to arrive up to time, but if there was nothing else to prevent his doing so, it was his firm resolve that nobody who wished to see or hear him en route should be denied the privilege. On his Westland tour, in 1904, ho had a friend to greet or a joke to crack at every roadside whare, consequently his arrivals were now and again very much after the appointed time. On one occasion he arrived about four hours late, but, needless to say, the greeting was still warm. He never apologised, except perhaps in an off-hand manner, because the delay was always due to one cause, pressure of public business, and everybody understood that. THE LIGHTNING CONDUCTOR. The newspaper man who was told off to travel with Mr Seddon had the hardest work that could be allotted to him. From the moment of leaving town until his return it was one ceaseless rush from speech to deputation, from function to train, from east to west. It was the strenuous life with a vengeance. Perhaps the most remarkable tour ever made by a public man in New Zealand or elsewhere was that meteoric dash of Mr Seddon’s during tho last election campaign. He left Wellington on November 7th for'the North., speaking every day, sometimes as often as six times, until returning to Wellington on the 26th. The following day ho was off again to Manawatu, and the day after that he left for Christchurch. Ho had a triumphal passage through the South Island, and returned to Wellington on tho morning of the election, December 6th. Nobody but a giant could have stood the wear and tear of that lightning peregrination. But Mr Seddon was a giant in the matter of travelling. He seemed to glory in it; to thrive in railway trains and steamers where other men became fagged and jaded. One day in 1902 he was in Wanganui late in the afternoon. Tho following day ho was to open au industrial exhibition in Feilding, fifty miles away. What was our surprise next morning to find him on tho Wellington platform! Mrs Seddon was indisposed, and ho had made the journey of 150 miles to Wellington the night before to see her, and was now going back 100 miles to Feilding. The following day he opened a bridge over the Rangitikei river at Bulls with half an hour’s speech in a downpour of rain, made a speech at a luncheon, casually dropped in at the opening of a Roman Catholic bazaar, and returned to Wellington that night. On his West Coast tour in 1904, Mr Seddon averaged eighty miles travelling a day apart from all his other work. He was in O'tira, on the Westland side of the Alps, one morning, and in Molesworth street the next. Only a few months ago ho spoke to an audience in Manawatu within twenty-four hours of leaving Culverden, North Canterbury. During the celebrated election flutter, ho spoke one night at Wanganui, the following night at Greytown (145 miles away) and the following night at Martmborough. The speeches were all long and vigorous ones, but at the end of the Martinborough meeting—it was a bitrterly cold night, with a cutting Wairarapa gale blowing—he started off by coaoh for Featherston. There he found comfortable hotel accommodation, and the company of old friends, but after having a little refreshment, he ordered his special train to be ready, and left for Wellington, arriving about 4 o’clock on Sunday morning. Mrs Seddon, who had joined her husband in Auckland for the purpose, as ho laughingly said, of looking after him, aocompanied him on this part of the tour. MIDNIGHT SPECIALS. The deceased statesman’s penchant for rapid travelling was well known. He would make up his mind quite suddenly that lie wanted to reach a particular place in a particular time, and nothing might intervene. One morning in 1902 we were waiting at Marton for the New Plymouth express to oome down. Sud-

denly it was announced that Mr Seddon would take a special to Palmerston to catch, the Napier down train at Woodville. It was arranged and started. We were bowling down hill on the curves near Greatford at a tremendous pace, when suddenly the Westinghouee brakes were jambed on, the engine gave a frightened shriek, and we were thrown towards the front of the carriage. The cause was soon apparent. Two little red flagjs fluttered on the side of the line, and there, only the length of the special in front, eight lengths of rail were-taken up preparatory to laying the heavier 701 b plates. Our escape was duo solely to tho Westingkous© brakes. Mi 1 Blow, Under-Secretary of Public Works, was on board at the time, and we all gave a hand to get .things ready for the train to pass over. But the Premier missed the connection at Woodville.

On liis return from Westland in 1904, Mr Seddon’s train put up an easy record between Springfield and Christchurch. During the last election campaign, his special oovered the eighteen miles from Hawera to Patea in twenty-five minutes, tlio usual time being forty-seven minutes. The last eight miles were covered in nine minutes. And this is not a particularly safe piece of track. Mr Seddon was always eager for work. Ho could not bear .to be idle, and if there was not enough work on hand in the shape of telegrams he would hurry back to town. One evening early in February he careered up to Palmerston almost unheralded, and put in an appearance, slightly lato, at the banquet to Sir Joseph Ward. He looked quite fresh, as he always did, except after a very long strain, made his enigmatical speech about race purity, and retired about midnight to his hotel. Next morning he was gone. He had left in the night by a special train. Even his secretaries were ignorant of his intentions when they left the banquet. Only a few weeks ago Mr Seddon visited Foxton and Levin. He arrived at the latter place on horseback about midday, lunched, heard deputations, and drovo to the Weraroa industrial farm where he spoke for an hour; returned to Weraroa, and made a speech that lasted until midnight. Suddenly a train whistled at the station. Mr Seddon make an unostentatious exit, sent back an invitation, to the writer to travel in his special, and ©scaped to Wellington. Only two or three of his hosts know that he had gone. There is a historic departure from Rotorua that was equally abrupt. LIFE ON A TOUR. Tho life of the late Premier on hoard a train was very little different from the ordinary routine of the office. lie generally had two secretaries, and the typewriter was going ceaselessly. As soon as tho train started he would living out bundles of telegrams from his pockets, and commence to dictate replies. This might occupy the greater part of the journey. Then he would take out a few speech notes and airrange them conveniently for use, road tho paper, and, if there was any time left, have a quiet dose. He had unusual capacity for benefiting by the least respite of this kind. Arrived at bis destination, he would, if practicable, have his secretaries working in the carriage Avhile he went on with the ceremonies. If these were not arranged as he lilied, ho would in tho most natural r annor make himself master of ceremonies, and alter them to his liking. He often changed the plans of his hosts, not always in so inconsequential a manner as merely inserting an extra toast into tho list. But tho thing was done in so natural and good-humoured a manner that it was quite inoffensive. The first thing Mr Seddon did on. taking his place on a platform to make a speech was to glance round and see if everything was in order. He used a table merely as something to put his notes on. not as a pestlo uses a mortar. If it was too near the edge of the s+age, he would pick it up bodily and shift it back. He was fond of flowers, but if, as was often the case, his admirers had placed vases of flowers on the table he would immediately shift them out of his way. What he chiefly desired was room to swing his arms as he spoke. He never thumped the table. As a speaker, Mr Seddon was one of the easiest political propositions the reporter had to meet. He was fluent, and had a ready flow of language, but he spoke with a measured diction, and almost slowly, the very antithesis of Sir Joseph Ward. In another respect also he differed widely from Ins first lieutenant. Sir Joseph speaks from notes, often to the extent of reading his speech, and when he does so he scarcely departs at all from his text, at, any rate, not in any material respect. Mr Seddon, on the other hand, vent on entirely independent of his notes, diverging so widely as to make them almost valueless for accurate reperting. It was quite foreign to liis character to read a speech, and the reporters always found it more satisfactory to take a shorthand note right out than to depend upon tho notes which he was always willing to furnish in ada anoe.

As a speaker, Mr Seddon. was plain and foroeful, rather than academic. He invariably put his audience in good

humour by telling a few anecdotes at tho beginning of his speech, introducing others at intervals to brighten up tho dissertation upon the heavier phases of politics. When he was speaking he did not notice time slipping away. His regular political addi esses generally exceeded two hours, sometimes three; and even at open-air functions he frequently spoke for an hour. On one occasion he opened a dance with a speech of more than half an hour’s duration. When others were fpeaking. Mr Seddon seldom interrupted, and he rarely betrayed by his countenance what he was thinking. IMP ORTA NT STATEMENTS. “The Old Man’s going to say something to-night,” _remarked one of the secretaries to’ me one evening in Ihe tipper Hutt train. “What about?” I asked. “T don’t know,” Avas the reply, “but can soe he is thinking out something.” He was lying back in an accustomed at titude, with a paper 7 on his knees, his eyes staring fixedly at the top of the carriage. He did say something. Ue spoke of racial purity, the subject which Avas worrying him in enfor led silence, and he also made a \’ef utat.i >n of Mr Moore’s Kaiapoi charges. He spoke that evening quite without aoA.es. Afterwards ho was about to lead iff in * dance, Avhcn suddenly the lights Avent out and refused to act. Mr Seddon was equal to the emergency. He suggested a song, and sang it himseif “Hard Times Come Again No More” — Ihe audience joining in the refrain. Still the light Avas darkness> so he sang again, “The Wearing of xha Green,” and then the gas came again. Be led off in the dance, took nis departure, and came straight back to town. That was tho evening Avhen the squadron bail Avas held in the Town Hall, but Mr Seddon did not attend. Speaking of political statements, Mr Seddon was not free from the Old World custom of making important statements in out-of-the-way places. During the last year or two he made perhaps the bulk of his announcements at Pahiatua and Levin. It was at Pahiatua in January that he announced the postponement of the Colonial Conferenco and tho abandonment of the Labour Parliament, tho last statement causing him considerable regret. It was at Levin four years ago that he first expounded his scheme of National Scholarships. He began to speak about midnight, and as there was only a telephone at Levin in those days, the morning papers were tripped up. Quite recently, in March, he again made. Levin the venue of some important announcements. On this occasion he made a definite statement regarding the Manawatu Railway, and also elaborated the opinions of the Government on the New Hebrides question, which he mooted originally at Hokitika in 1804. It is interesting to note that the „ New Hebrides question Avas one of the pet schemes of Sir George Grey, to whom Mr Seddon was always proud to be considered a political understudy. Tho Chinese immigration question, upon which Mr Seddon expended so much of his great energies of late, was also originally laid before Parliament in a strong memorandum by Sir George Grey. It was at Sir Joseph Ward’s banquet in Palmerston in February that Mr Seddon first broached the racial purity question in so far as it was affected by the secret despatch. , FOREIGN TO FEAR. Fear was an unknown quantity with Mr Seddon. That there was no opposition stronghold he Avas afraid to venture into was evident from his conduct during tho election campaign of 1905, when ho answered a challenge from Mr Massey by delivering six political speeches in the Franklin eleccorate. It was proved again in the big election meeting in Christchurch last December. One of the Avarmest corners he was ever in was Mangaweka in 1902. This Avas the railhead of the Main Trunk at that Line, and a bush centre of some importance and boisterousness. In the afternoon Mr Seddon opened the railway to the station. In the evening ho entered on a much more difficult task. There were four candidates for Rangitikei, and they were all on the platform. When Mr Seddon arrived he had a very mixed reception. There Avas some feeling against Iris presence, and a good deal of hostility was shown, but he stood up, looked at the audience steadily and quietly, and as soon as there was a lull, said: “I hope you will remember that you have the Premier of the colony with you, and will not do that which would bring discredit on you.” He got a patient hearing, with only occasional interruption when he referred to the merits of the candidates. Before he left Mangaweka by special train at midnight he was able to announce that the vote-splitting at the election, had been obviated, and he went away a thoroughly popular man. As a matter of fact »he candidates all went to the poll, but tho Government nominee was elected.

Another rather tight corner Mr Seddon found himself in was at the early closing demonstration at Newtown in 1904. There Avas no reason for his presence except that he smelt trouble from afar, and wished to meet it in person. It Avas in the heart of the most injured suburb in the colony, and ho got anything but a flattering

reception as he entered the hall. He was heckled a good deal when he rose to speak. “You want to hang me first and let me speak afterwards/’ he said, laughing above the uproar. From this meeting also he emerged whole and more popular than when he entered. In Parliament the very, scentof trouble placed his back against the wall and made him fight for things more than he thought they were worth before be found there was opposition.