Books Reviewed

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 1081, 19 September 1930, Page 14

Books Reviewed

A MONUMENTAL TASK Ij’HE avifauna of New Zealand is particularly interesting (and has been even more so in the past) not only to ornithologists, but also to the average New Zealander who includes In his make-up a sincere regard for the birds of his native land. Mr. W. R. B. Oliver, M.Sc., Director of the Dominion Museum, F.N.Z.lnst., and an ornithologist whose researches are known in other lands, has completed a monumental task, that of compiling “New Zealand Birds.” a work emb-dv. ing exhaustive study of the bird life of the Dominion and one which, au.omatically, takes its place as a standard work. Three hundred species are described and the book is so arranged, tabulated and indexed tha* the identification of any bird is made easy and reference to the history and characteristics of any species is a simple business. There is, in addition, a wonderful range of illustrations, well over 200 In number and including six excellent group colour-plates. The fascinating history of the moa is fully told and that of the apteryx, or kiwi, which, in earlier days, served the Maori as a tasty dish and as a provider of the much-prized kahu-kiwi, or cloak of feathers. It is not generally known that the male kiwi performs most of the work during the in-

teresting domestic period of incubation.

Here are facts and figures dealing with the kuaka or godwit, curlews, stilts, coots, egrets, herons, dottrels, albatrosses, frigate birds, ducks, geese, swans, teal, petrels, terns, the gull family, bitterns, sea-hawks, grebes, skuas, plovers, quails, ibises and pheasants. There is only one instance on record or a pelican finding its way to New)Zealand, but even that is carefully noted. Here we may learn something of the habits of the takaho (notornis), a close relative of the pukeko, and which is now no more; of the oyster-catcher, which beneficent nature has provided with a special “opeuer”; of the extinct eagle family; of owls, moreporks, kalcas (the New Zealand parrots), kingfishers and the pipiwarauroa, of which Miss Eileen Duggan sang so charmingly in her “Bird Songs.” An interesting section deals with the gregarious gannets; another with that omnivorous rascal, the weka; another with the kea, outlaw of the mountains. Penguins, mollyhawks, sheerwaters, they are all here . . . and the titi or mutton bird, whose wonderful migratory instincts have been the subject of so many articles and whose pinguid flesh has caused many a Maori mouth to water. The avifauna of the outlying islands is included in this volume, which has informative references to the Kermadec petrel, the Auckland Island. Stewart Island, Bounty and Campbell Islands shags, the blue-faced booby of the Kermadecs and the Chatham Islands snipe: Our best song song birds, the tui and the korimako (bellbird), are well featured and the huia. which for so many years provided chiefly insignia for rangatiras. Most persons are under the impression Ihat the huia has gone for ever, but Mr. Oliver has some doubt., apparently, for he says: “The species must be extremely rare, if not extinct.” It is a thousand pities that our sanctuaries were not able to save this graceful and historically interesting bird. “New Zealand Birds” is a Fine Arts (Wellington) production and reflects the greatest credit on this enterprising new publishing house. The book should find inclusion in the libraries of all who collect “Newzealandiana.” “New Zealand Birds.” Fine Arts (X.Z.), Ltd., F.O. Box 542. "Wellington. Our copy from the publishers direct. A Leacock Anthology If Mr. Stephen Leacock is ever given a reward by his Majesty the King, it should be membership of the Companionage of Honour. C.H. after his name would do duty for the honour bestowed upon him and for “Chief Humorist,” for that must bo his rank in the British Empire. Of all our literary jesters none has a wider public than Mr. Leacock, the distinguished Canadian Professor of Political Economy who has found, as Lewis Carroll, mathematician, did, pleasant and decidedly profitable recreation in the art of writing nonsense. His “Literary Lapses” and “Nonsense Novels” are known wherever English is spoken and they are but two of the spate of amusing books bearing his name. Mr. Ben Travers, talented farceur, was recently commissioned by the Bodley Head to edit a volume of selections from Leacock. He has .done his work well. All the old friends are there—Gertrude the Governess, Winsome Winnie, the Russian diarist, whose sorrows were so intensely intense, and the host of droll characters whose vagaries and idiosyncrasies so delightfully distort the characters created by other and more serious writers, or satirise types long familiar to us in the business and social world. And Mr. Travers has not, of course, forgotten to include “Boarding House Geometry” in his selection, which numbers 70 pieces. As he explains it, those who miss certain amusing fragments, or who resent their old favourites appearing in a briefer form, have only to turn up the original to capture the full delight of it all. An excellent compendium of the sparkling humour of a man whose work has an international appeal. “The Leacock Book.” Edited by Ben Travers. John Lane, the Bodley Head, London. Our copy from the publishers direct. A Buchan Romance A game of Rugby can he an image of life, but it requires a John Buchan to make the picture a romance. And for 20 pages of his latest novel, the author of “Greenmantle,” “The ThirtyNine Steps,” and a dozen other firstclass tales besides, describes an epic Rugger battle between the Kangaroos and Scotland. One never sees or even reads of such games at Eden Park. Of course. Scotland win (for that, need a body cry?), but her standard would have drooped had it not been for the

prow-ess of that grand wee sturdy threequarter, Jaikie Galt. And when “a noise like the Last Trump” told him that by a single point he had won the match for his country a wild figure at the Press table below the grandstand danced a war dance of triumph. The journalistic dervish was Dougal Crombie. Maybe readers will mind fine (as Scots say) that they twa were laddies together in Mr. Buchan’s

“Huntingtow-er.” Weel, they’re grown up in “Castle Gay.” and fine characters for a romance that goes on to other than football fields. On a holiday tramp from Biaweary across the hills round the Garroch to Glen Callowa they are drawn into the sair troubles of a great newspaper magnate in adversity. The man is a successful humbug in powerful journalism—Great Britain has more than a fair share of the same type these days —hut, when confronted with the prospect of a political revolution, and

beset with the emissaries of the small Ruritariau nation whose cause he had espoused in a chain of newspapers, he is revealed as an ordinary and rather helpless elderly gentleman. It. is difficult to discern the purpose of the author w-hose experiences as a member of Parliament appear to have given his imaginative faculty a cast toward politics. This development so far has not. been an outstanding advantage. Most of his admirers wo.ild not be sorry to see him defeated at the next General Election, if defeat made him again a leading novelist. “Castle Gay,” his latest creation, is not up to the non-political Buchan standard. It is, however, still much better than many rival novels. As Jaikie Galt might say: “Yon try, John, was not converted. You'll need to kick better, lad.’’ “Castle Gay,” by John Buchan. Ilodder and Stoughton, Ltd. Our copy from the publishers' Sydney representative, . Mr. W. S. Smart. Solved by Scotland Yard! When James Altamount, shipping magnate, paid £2,000 for a miniature of Mary, Queen of Scots, that he might present it to his wife, Lady Violet Altamount, as a birthday gift, he little knew that the delicately-executed portrait would he Exhibit A in a murder mystery aud that he would be featured in it as the “murderee.” Mr. Arthur J. Rees in “The Pavilion by the Lake,” narrates the dark tale which resulted in suspicion being cast upon the heir to the Altamount millions, Lady \ iolet’s son. A youthful indiscretion of the stately Lady Violet was at the bottom of the trouble, the mau-in-the-case having emerged from the shadowy past, after an absence of 20 years, to add to the complications. This is a murder mystery solved entirely by Scotland Yard, without any experts from the vast range of ama-teur-professional detectives being coopted. That in itself is a claim to distinction! One little mystery additional to the main one may be mentioned. Lady Violet is described as the only daughter of the Earl of Clarenceux and a peeress in her own right. How, then, she comes to be Lady "V iolet and not the Countess of Clarenceux is puzzling. Perhaps some one more skilled in the intricacies of these things will tell us. At all events “The Pavilion by the Lake” makes good reading. T “The Pavilion by the Lake.” John OM? e Anr he , Bodi -V Head. Limited, London, fur copy from the publishers. Red-Blooded Romance General Crack is a magnificent figure in a splendid historical romance. George Preedy’s novel of that name sweeps along in a tempest of love and romance, hate and treachery, magnificence and misery. First published in 1925, it has run through several editions and for those who revel in high-flown adventure there is no better hook on which to feed the imagination. It is history in its most diverting form, history unencumbered with dates and containing a few facts as the foundation of a grand pageant of fiction. General Crack himself, soldier of fortune selling his services to the highest bidder among the crowned heads of warring Europe, is as splendid in success as ho is in defeat. Princess Eleanora and Prince Leopold, the two other unhappv figures in this grandly conceived tale, are wonderfully drawn. A host of minor characters superbly fit into this vast and terrible picture. George Preedy, by the way, is a woman writer. “General Crack.” Our copy comes direct from the publishers, John Lane the Bodley Head, London. The Game of “Murder” Six people sit down to play a game called “Murder.” The house is a magnificent one on an island off the coast of California. The playdrs assume that the master of the house is dead. He is hated by everyone—his wife, his servants, his bought companions. Between half-past six and seven o’clock (during the progress of the game) this most-hated man in California is found to have been murdered, precisely as the party suggested in their weird entertainment. That :is the beginning of still another mystery tale, "Murder at High Tide,” by Charles G. Booth. And an excellent one it is. Mr. Booth hides the identity of his criminal until, in a last wild and thrilling escapade, it must be explained. As told by M. Anatole Flique, the French detective, it makes good reading for dull times. "Murder at. High Tide.” T tedder and Stoughton, Ltd., London. Our copy from the publishers’ Sydney representative, Mr. W. S. Smart. More of Marryat. Dent’s collected edition of the works of Captain Marryat is growing in size, the latest batch being the four volumes: "Snarleycrow,” “Japliet, In Search of a Father,” "The Phantom Ship,” and "Olla Podrida, the Pirate, and the Three Cutters.” Between “The Phantom Ship” and “Snarley crow” there is a certain kinship, both of them depending upon the supernatural for much of their interest. The former, however. Is the better known, and it is certainly among the three best of the Marryat novels. Philip Vanderdecken is a very presettable hero, and in Armine he gives his readers his best heroine. Dr Poots is another excellent character. The eerie atmosphere of the story is maintained satisfactorily throughout. Perhaps he gives us a few spirits too many, but, nevertheless. It is a fine novel of its kind. In the Olla Podrida volume casual work of Marryat is made accessible. The matter in it serves to show how Industrious the captain was in his literary labours. There is “The Monk of Seville,” a blank verse play, somewhat laboured perhaps, but giving signs of his great energy. There are other plays too. then a set of essays and other casual writing. His advice on the way to be happy is as follows: Cut your coat according to your cloth is an old maxim and u wise one: and If people will only square their ideas according to their circumstances, how much happier might we all be! If we only would •ome clown a peg or two in our notions, in accordance with our waning fortunes, happiness would be always within our reach. It ts not what we have, or what we have not. that adds or subtracts from our felicity. It is the longing for more than we have, the envying of those wh< possess that more, and the wish to appear in the world of more consequence than we really are, which destroy our peace of mind, and ••ventually lead to ruin. There are tales, too, in this agree able hotch-potch, and it is “all very entertaining. The novels also are well worth meeting again. Volumes 7, S, 9, 10. of the collected works of Captain Marryat. J. M. Dent and Soil* Ltd. Our copies from the publishers.