DAVID CHRISTIE MURRAY.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 475, 28 May 1890, Page 6

DAVID CHRISTIE MURRAY.

ARRIVAL IN AUCKLAND. AN INTERVIEW. Auckland, May 19. Mr Christie Murray, journalist, reporter and lecturer has arrived in Auckland. He came this morning by the Manapouri. The wharf was unpleasantly crowded and great interest appeared to attach to Mr Murray’s arrival. The famous novelist was interviewed by a member of our staff immediately after his arrival. Of course he wasn’t surprised; he has done it himself to others, and has himself been interviewed out of all reason ever since he set foot on colonial soil. Mr Murray is decidedly a striking-look-ing man. A fine broad head and intellectual face, kindly yet sharp eyes and a powerful mouth. He wears a brown velveteen coat that is evidently an old favourite, for he looks almost aggravatingly comfortable in it. “ Well, what sort of trip have you had, Mr Murray ?” “ Oh, very fair. Nothing bo complain of. There was a head wind most of the way, but it wasn’t of any consequence.” “ You are a good sailor, are you not ?” “ Oh, yes, as long as the ship holds together, I don’t much mind how rough it is. It doesn’t affect me.” Arrived at* the hotel, Mr Murray was shown his room. It is the one from which the fire escape descends. The novelist’s quick eye took in the fact ab a glance, and he observed with a humorous twinkle that it was just as well for him to have it handy, as he was undoubtedly going to set the town on fire by his lectures.

Mr Murray sat down somewhat exhaustedly to read the several letters which were handed to him. Our man remarked on the fact that he did not look very well, or so strong as could be wished. In answer, Mr Murray said he had never really been himself since the Ministerial party trip to the King Country. That had knocked him up altogether. “ You see,” he said, “in the first place I had not been across a horse for very many years and wo had about five days’ terribly hard riding. It rained boo, till one was sick of the sight, the sound and the very smell of it. I could not eat the tinned meats and hard biscuit ; that was the only fare. It’s not the sorb of diet I have been accustomed to, and with one thing and another I got into a very low state of vitality. Somehow or other it brought on cramps in the stomach and violent fits of vomiting. I really thought I should have left my bones in New Zealand. I should have died had it not been tor Mr Biair and Captain Russell. They were very good. They gob some birds and made a sort of chicken broth for me. Since then I have never been very well. I had another fib of vomiting the other day and feel very sore internally still. I wanb rest really, f think.” “ I suppose, Mr Murray, you are working pretty hard ?” “ Yes, with lecturing and writing, I am.” “You are working on the play, are you not ?” “ Yes, I have been. It is now practically finished.” “ It is to be called ‘ Chums,’ according to popular rumour. Is that true ?” The novelist hesitated for a moment, then answered, “Yes, it is to be called Chums.’” “ You have written other plays, have you nob, Mr Murray ?” “Yes, three. None of them have yet been produced, bub will be so shortly. One indeed is only waiting for the parties who hold it to obtain a theatre” “ What is the name of that one ?” “ Oh, it is called ‘As Good as Gold.’ It was written in conjunction with Hermann of the Silver King fame.” “ This new play of jours is called a New Zealand play. Will you tell me something about it?” “ Well, yes, and you can do me a service by mentioning that though it has been called a New Zealand play, _ it is nob intended as a delineation of New Zealand life or character. The scene is laid in Otago, bub beyond that there is nothing essential to New Zealand. Your country afforded a picturesque background to the plot of a play in which gold mining such as you have here plays an essential part.” “ There is no native element, no Maori characterisation introduced then ?” “ Oh, no. It is a strong comedy drama of the modern school, and as I said before doesn’t profess bo delineate New Zealand character.” “ You have not commenced any part of your book on New Zealand and the other colonies yet, have you ?” “ Oh, no. I shall not touch that for some time. lam merely taking mental notes. I never take them in the ordinary way,” he added, with a nod towards our man’s note book.

“ Do you intend to remain long here, Mr Murray ?” “It depends how much I find there is to see, etc. I shall go up to the Hot Lakes, and then I think across back to Australia, where I shall say goodbye to my friends, and then I hope to go to Samoa to see my old friend Robert Louis Stevenson.” “ You admire him very much, don’t you ?” “Rather!” “In the end of one of your books, ‘ Val Strange,’ you say in bidding good-bye to the characters that they are the favourite children of your fancy. Is this so ?” “ There are characters in other books whom I have since got to like more. ‘ Val Strange’ was my second book. ‘Joseph’s Coat,’ which came after, is much finer.” “ What are your favourite books, then ?” “ Oh, if it’s any interest you can say that * Joseph’s Coat,’ ‘ Aunt Rachel,’ ‘ Rainbow Gold,’ and Val Strange’ are.” Afcer a few moments’ further chat, our reporter took his leave.—‘Star.’