MRS ASQUITH’S BOOK.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 19529, 11 July 1925, Page 20

MRS ASQUITH’S BOOK.

WITTY AND PENETRATING. IMPRESSIONS! OF AMERICA. When Mr Asquith was told that the rights 10 his wife’s first book had been sold for £60,000, ho promptly remarked; “ I hope to God it won’t bo worth it, evidently fearing it might contain Cabinet secrets. Apparently the first book was worth it to the publisher, for tho offence has been repeated Her third work, Places and Persons,” has just been published by Thornton Butterv/orth, London. The original of Benson’s ‘‘Dodo” and tho wife of a great statesman, who is the newest Knight of the Garter and a peer by special wish of tho King, has a big public, and though what sho .has written would have a very limited sale if from tho pen of a lesser lignt in tho social scale, the twaddle which comprises throe-fourths of tho nook may be overlooked for tho pleasure of perusing her witty and penetrating survey pf many phases of latter-day life and politics, ibo earlier chapters relate to her visit to Egypt in IG9I, accompanied by her parents and before her marriage. The impression one gets is that Margot was thoroughly bored, whether she was viewing “some old, ugiy, and not very high pyramids,” or the Bukhara —the • burial ground of the ancient Egyptians—“which are like so many sandy holes.” Her 25 fellow-travellers on tho Nile boat “looked ugly and, common,” and she “execrated travellingi” but Margot tells us that sho is looked upon as an acquisition ns she sits on tho edge of the boat and dangles her feet in tho water as she tells ghost stories. At Assouan she meets Lord Athlumnoy (“Rather a relief to meet a gentleman,” she observes). Margot dances with her castagnettos, and hears a Hr Hunter remark that it “was tho most lovely thing he had ever scon.” Major Lewis kisses her hands, and tells her “she is the most wonderful person he has ever mot.” This surely was pleasant; but then Margot is whisked off to an octrich farm, and it is “smelly, tiresome, and full of fleas.’’ Many chapters are devoted to Margot s impressions of America during her lecturing tour of 1922, but only tho last chapter is of any roai interest. Tho others ar 4 made up of describing interviews with reporters, the fatigue accompanying the lectures, and mentioning from lime to time that she had a bath and went to bed. During one of her lectures Margot told a good Mark Twain story. It concerned a groat American temperance orator, who, having exercised his voice too much, had asked tho chairman to provide milk instead of water at his meeting. Unaware that her chairman was also a groat temperance preacher, Margot turned to him and said: “Tho chairman —probably a kind man like my own—put lum into the milk, and when the orator, pausing in one of his most dramatic periods, stopped to clear his throat, he drained the glass, and putting it down, exclaimed, ‘Gosh ! What, cows!’ ” Margot wont on to toll of a lady who was letting her house, and, after instructing the auctioneer as to tho value of nor chairs, furniture, and china, had left him in the dining room, where the sideboard had several bottles of wine and whisky on it.

Flip waited for a long time, hoping ho would return to show her the inventory; hut, ns he did not appear, she wont into tho dining-room, whore sho found him drunk on the floor. Bho looked at tho paper ho hold in his hand, and road, “To ono revolving carpet.” Margot went to America, thinking that drink had decreased, and in consequence that everyone was “wise, sober, and happy.” She found, however, that the reverse was tho truth. Among tho rich sho doubted if there had ever been bo much alcohol concealed and enjoyed.

While in America Margot found that in spite of true generosity and kindliness there was an undercurrent of illibcralism and ferocity that amazed her. In every city there were clubs, both male and female, to forbid or promote some triviality. While Americans wore severe on anyone who accepted a title, there was no detail too insignificant about tho English court nr aristocracy that did not excite an almost emotional interest in her audiences. “One night, after I was in bod,” sho writes, “having had a talk with an intellectual ronorter upon the dearth of painting and literature in his country, he rang me up to say hi? paper was annoyed that ho had not brought back an accurate description of my hat and drees. Ho apologised profusely, but said that that was what tho public really cared for; that none of our discussion upon Lincoln, Edgar Allan Poo. The Marble Faijn, William James’s fine stylo, or anything else of interest would bo printed in the morning paper, but that tho description of my dress —silver, gold, embroidered with peacocks’ eye—would give great pleasure, and what a femaVe reporter told him I had said to her of Princess Mary’s marriage b'eing ono of love would lie enlarged into a loading article. I said I forgave him waking mo up, hut that I had never mentioned our Royal Family, and had, of course, invented tho dress. The next day I read that I had said I was ‘on smoking terms with Queen Mary.’” A good story is related about Colonel Harvey, a recent American ambassador to Great Britain. Apropos of the Gno coItalian situation in tho autumn of 1922 Colonel Harvey was reported to have said his countrymen were “damned well out of it.” This provoked the following answer from a Mr van Tassel Sutpen, of Now Jersey:—"‘Damned well out of it’ is a trenchant phrase, and haturally Mr Harvey believes that tho utterance is entirely original with him. Not so, however. Here is a distinct case of unconscious mental cerebration, for some two thousand years ago a certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell among thvies. who stripped him of his raiment and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead. And by chance there came down a certain priest that way, and when he saw him ho passed by on the other side. And ns he went he doubtless muttered into his board, ‘Damned well out of it.’ And likewise a Lovite, when ho was at tho place, came and looked on him and passed by on tho other side. And as he goes wo can hoar him echoing tho now familiar sentiment, ‘Damned well out of it.’ Nearly twenty centuries have passed away and the poor ‘painted shade? of priest and Levite have long since vanished into the limbo of departed spirits—damned well out of it. But the radiant presence, of tho Good Samaritan, clothed with its glorious heritage of eternal life, abides with us for ever. ‘Which now of those three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves?’ asked Jesus. ‘He that showed mercy on him,’ was the renly of the lawyer. Then said Jesus unto him, ‘Go and do likewise.’ ”