It was too late to refer in last month's issue to the passing of Miss Jessie Mackay, New Zealand's sweetest and gentlest poet. I will not elaborate on her gracious years of life. Full justice to this aspect has been conveyed in many articles, kindest and most appreciative of them all being from the pen of Eileen Duggan. I have enduring memories of Miss Jessie that will live with me in the many beautiful letters she wrote to me, and also in the messages she penned for me in her several books of verse. Possibly one of the last letters she wrote was to the P.E.N. on 10th June. It was a reply to a letter of hope and encouragement in her illness, and read as follows:—

“The beautiful greetings and kind wishes of the New Zealand Centre of the P.E.N. carry an uplift all their own in these days of lowered vitality. The P.E.N. from the first gave all for nothing to a representative who could not be present. But at least we are New Zealanders all, and very sweat to an old pioneer are the praises and encircling goodwill of those who carry New Zealand's banner now to far and high places.

Yours always,

Jessie Mackay.”

A beautiful letter and so typical of the writer.

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Many congratulations have been showered on Miss Eileen Duggan over the fact that she has been offered and has accepted an American market for her poems by Macmillans, the English publishers. This means that her last collection of verse, published by Allen and Unwin, with the addition of a few more poems, is to be published in book form in America. I hope that the publishers will allocate at least a hundred or two copies of the American book to this country. Apart from collectors who will be almost frantically seeking for possession of this new edition, there are many keen admirers of Miss Duggan's verse who will be anxious to add the American edition to their libraries. Miss Duggan's books threaten to become bibliographic rarities. Her first booklet, published by the “New Zealand Tablet,” is unprocurable, “Bird Songs” is out of print, and the Allen and Unwin edition of her verse is selling out rapidly.

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Book lovers who have a habit of making Dunedin a landmark because of Newbolds' wonderful secondhand bookshop, will be interested to hear that the establishment has been taken over by a company with the present manager, Mr. Dick White, as managing director. Mr. White has an encyclopaedic knowledge of books, and in appearance and personality fits in admirably with the massive shelves of books that tower around him on all sides. There are thousands upon thousands of books in Newbolds. Many of ancient vintage. It took Dick White years of work to shelve and itemise them, but that was before the good old days, when I used to rummage (sometimes even on my hands and knees) in the glorious disorder.

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