An Australian Author.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXII, Issue XXI, 21 May 1904, Page 27

An Australian Author.

Mr. Henry Brereton Marriott Watson—not to be confused, as he sometimes is. with Mr. Charles' Marriott, author of “The Column.” nor with Mr. Malcolm Watson, of the “Daily Telegraph”—was born at Caulfield, Melbourne. a trifle over fortv years ago. At the age of nine he l“ft Australia for New Zealand. Amid the lovely scenery of the South Island he grew to manhood, receiving his education at Christchurch Grammar School and Canterbury College. Tn 1885 he went to London on a visit with his father, the incumbent of St. John’s, Christchurch, and—he never returned. A natural love of writing as a boy had by that time developed into a passion, and he determined to stay in London and become a successful author. The prudent parent insisted on arranging for his son’s return passage should things go badly; but if, during the next year or two. Mr. Watson was sometimes tempted to beat a retreat, he stuck the hard limes out. and was by no means unhappy in his garret.

Mr. Frederick Greenwood and the “ St. James’ Gazette ” gave him his first regular work as a journalist. Then he became one of Mr. W. E. Henley’s galaxy, and. through Henley, assistanteditor of the “Pall Mall Gazette.” For a time Mr. Watson was also assistant-edi-tor of “ Black and White,” to-day conducts the literary column of the “ Daily Mail,” and much journalism has left him with a still fresh and unspoiled love of reviewing. It was whilst working for the “ St. James’ Gazette” that Mr. Watson foregathered with Mr. J. M. Barrie, whose “ Auld Licht Idylls ” were then appearing in that journal. By-the-way, the introspective and susceptible “Marriott” of “My Lady Nicotine” was not drawn from Mr. Watson, although Mr. Barrie borrowed one of his names, but from the late Mr. Joseph Thomson, the African traveller. To resume:—Mr. Barrie and Mr. Watson became friends, and regularly used to take their walks abroad together every afternoon. Even in these days Mr. Barrie’s interest in the theatre was most pronounced, and. to use a homely expression, he was always nosing about them, no detail connected with the stage being considered too trivial for his earnest attention. So when Mr. Watson bethought himself of a subject for a play it was natural that he should take it to his friend, and between them they wrote “Richard Savage,” which eventually was pro duced at their joint expense.

Mr. Watson's literary first-born was a romance called “ Marahuna.” He wanted to send it to Longmans, but was advised not to do so on the ground that, as Longn ans were publishing Mr. Rider Haggard's romances, they would not care for a book in similar vein. So tin author endured the rejections of two or three other publishers and then in despair sent it to Longmans, by whom it was immediately accepted. So much for expert advice. Longmans, however, would not have his next novel, so the struggling author sent it to Messrs. Chapman and Hall. After waiting a long time for a reply he called on the firm, and saw Mr. < h-ipman, who sent for the reader’s report. It was favourable, but ended with the damning words, “ I do not think this book would sell.” Sick at heart, the author was stumbling out when Mr. Chapman called him baek. “ Stop a moment,” he said; “ you needn’t be in such a hurry. That is high praise from Mr. George Meredith.”