A recognised literary rendezvous in Auckland, the Unicorn Press in Kitchener Street, has changed its name and its ownership. In future it will be known as the Griffin Press with Ronald Holloway in charge. Because of the change it will not lose any of its literary interest, for the rather ascetical looking, yet extremely youthful owner is popular with the poets, artists, and printers of Auckland. He is known as the most artistic young printer in this country, the chaste simplicity of his typography attracting attention even overseas. Holloway's artistic mind has been behind many unusual booklets and pamphlets published over the past few years in this little shop in Kitchen Street. In the same premises one meets from time to time several of those sometimes quaint and certainly clever writers of which Auckland is proud—D'Arcy Cresswell, R. A. K. Mason, “Robin Hyde,” A. R. D. Fairburn and others. And, of course, Miss Jane Mander sometimes calls there, and very often lean, hungry looking poets, and 'varsity students hover around, looking as though they have been trying out a frugal diet of printers' ink and newsprint. In spite of its Bohemian atmosphere the work at the Unicorn—or as we must call it now—the Griffin Press, proceeds steadily. These young printers of Kitchener Street are reliable as well as artistic.

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It is good to see “The New Triad” growing in size and interest. The latest number is one of 32 pages, and contains a small camera study supplement. In addition to literary matters the bi-monthly deals with music and the stage. It is a modest 4d. per copy from N. F. Hoggard, Hand Craft Press, Times Buildings, Wellington. It is a coincidence that “The New Triad” should be published in a building so redolent with memories of Frank Morton of the original “Triad,” which, of course, was a robust publication in comparison with its modest little successor.

I think it was John Barr (author of “Men and Other Sins”) who once said that verbiage is the carcase of journalism and brevity the soul, but the breviteer has to be much more than an axeman. This came to my mind when I read a newspaper report of a tragedy: “John Dixon struck a match to see if there was any petrol in his tank. There was. Aged 56.”

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The other night we were quoting examples of crushing replies received by writers through the reject columns of various journals. The best was from the harassed editor of a certain literary magazine whose reply to an alleged poet who had submitted to him some verse entitled “Why Do I Live?” was “Because you sent it by post instead of coming around with it.”

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Due for publication this month is J. H. E. Schroder's “Remembering Things.” In a preliminary announcement the publishers (Dent's) state:—“This is a book of true essays—not

The bookplate prepared for Mr. F. W. Reed, Whangarei, for use with the Garnett collection of the works of Dumas, which will be presented ultimately to the Auckland Public Library.

sketches or stories—in the lighter vein. Some are concerned with general topics—buses and trams, boots and shoes, sheep, noise, whiskers, and what not; others touch on literary criticism, though the subjects, whether persons or books, are chosen for their intrinsic humour, conscious or unconscious. There are in addition two or three essays of particular local interest in New Zealand, the home of Mr. Schroder, and some of the essays have appeared in ‘The Sun’ and ‘The Press’ of Christchurch, papers with a literary reputation in and beyond New Zealand. Mr. Schroder's work is distinguished throughout by charm, humour, and culture, and is worthy of comparison with the best essayists.”

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Reviews.

“Promenade,” by G. B. Lancaster—the New Zealand novel we in this country have anticipated for years, has at last been published. When, a year or two ago it was mentioned that G. B. Lancaster was working on a big New Zealand novel, we who knew the capabilities of the writer, had definite hopes that the long awaited New Zealand saga was in course of construction. Now after long arduous labours, for the historical side had to be checked up from many diaries, records and letters, the book has been completed and after having run its serial length in “The Bulletin,” it has been published in book form by Angus & Robertson of Sydney. It is a grand full-blooded book spreading its many coloured pages over the greater part of the twentieth century.

The story opens in January, 1839, in England where the Lovels, an old British family, are discussing their prospective departure for New Zealand. page 55 Present are many of the characters we get to know so well, characters that live in our likes and dislikes in the great story that follows. There is Peregrine (who would carry all the Lovels “manipulate them, dispose of them to his will”) Sir John, his elder brother, a bluff old soldier, Jermyn the younger who is to fall in love with Peregrine's fifteen-year-old wife Sally (“not even Peregrine, for all his efficiency could found a family without a woman”) and her younger sister Darien. The Lovels make the adventurous trip and settle in the first place at Kororareka Beach, one of their neighbours being Nick Flower, an unscrupulous yet likeable trader who is to play such an important part in the book. And so the story develops, the promenade being the virtuous one of Sally with her impossible Peregrine against the background of the massed promenade of New Zealand history—the promenade of young colonials, soldiers, statesmen, sailors, farmers and, of course, Maoris. The sweep of the pencil of the writer grows broader and bolder as the novel proceeds, the human story never being lost as it is wonderfully interwoven with the colourful historical background and the composition endures always. The Maori wars, the succession of competent and incompetent governors (“they fell like leaves”) the gross mismanagement of Colonial affairs from England and from our own Parliaments, the fight for land and for home, the romance, the tragedy and humour of it all is presented with the pencil of an artist.

That this book has been written by one, who, though not born in New Zealand received her training and inspiration here as a writer, is a fact that must be recorded with satisfaction.

“Promenade” was published recently in America where it received glowing tributes from the critics. The first edition in Australia was sold almost before it reached the bookshops. In this country of course the book should set up a new sales record. Best of all it must live for all time as one of the outstanding books written about New Zealand. The novel has its minor faults; historical accuracy, or shall we say sympathy, may at times be questioned; the higher strata of earlier colonial life is emphasised rather than the working pioneer section. Even so it will take a writer of great power and art to improve on G. B. Lancaster's Promenade.”

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Railway engines have always exercised their full pull on the interest of man—from boyhood to old age. The popular appeal of the locomotive springs from something stronger than the fact that it is always a “free show”; there is romance, power and vitality in a railway engine. Two locomotive booklets recently issued by the Locomotive Publishing Co., will therefore attract interest. “Modern Locomotives of the L.M.S.,” by D. S. Barrie, covers the development of many types of locomotives, including the stream-lined Coronation engine. The second book “L.N.E.R. Locomotives, 1938,” deals with the modern speed monsters of the L.N.E.R. Both booklets are nicely printed and illustrated, and sell at a modest one shilling apiece.

N.Z. Centennial 1940
Literary Competition

Entries are invited for a series of Literary Competitions commemorating the Centennial in 1940. Competitions will be held for a Novel, a Short Story, a Full length Play, a Long Essay, and Poems. Rules and Conditions of the Competition may be obtained on application to the Secretary, National Historical Committee, Department of Internal Affairs, Box 7, Government Buildings, Wellington.

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“Shibli” Listens In.

Will Lawson, whose “Harpoons Ahoy” was published recently, is now busy on a book on Ben Boyd.

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The date of New Zealand Authors' Week this year is still in doubt. The promoters plan to make it coincide with the hoped for visit to New Zealand of Mr. H. G. Wells.

7 Inches off his Waistline
26 Pounds of Fat Gone Too
Reducing at 80 Years of Age

Apparently one is never too old to reduce. Here writes a man of 80 who has just rid himself of 1 st. 12 lbs. of unwanted fat:—

“You may be interested to hear that after taking Kruschen Salts daily, and following, but only to a certain extent, advice about suitable food, I have reduced my weight from 14 st. 3 lbs. to 12 st. 5 lbs., and my waist from 44 inches to 37 inches. Not only that, but I have the very satisfactory feeling of being well and fit, which at my age (80 years) is something to be thankful and grateful for. You are at liberty to publish this, but only if you put my initials.”—G.B.H.

Overweight arises frequently because the system is loaded with unexpelled waste, like a furnace choked with ashes and soot. Allowed to accumulate, this waste matter is turned into layer after layer of fat.

The six salts in Kruschen assist the internal organs to throw off each day the wastage and poisons that encumber the system. Then, little by little, that ugly fat goes—slowly, yes—but surely.

Kruschen does not aim to reduce by rushing food through the body; its action is not confined to a single part of the system. It has a tonic influence upon every organ of elimination, every gland, every nerve, every vein. Gently, but surely, it rids the system of all fatforming food refuse, of all poisons and harmful acids which give rise to rheumatism, digestive disorders and many other ills.

Kruschen Salts is obtainable at all Chemists and Stores at 273d. per bottle.^*