S. P. Andrew photograph ROY KINGSTON SMITH, who died suddenly in Wellington the other week. Though only 39 he had extracted much variety from life, and taken the rough places as cheerfully as the smooth. Those who had listened to some of his depression stories—all of them personal experiences—know that in losing an entertaining companion they have lost also an entertaining book, since he kept a diary and intended one day to publish it. But readers of "The Listener" will chiefly miss the "K.S." articles which, though they did not often appear, never appeared without exciting grateful comment. For Kingston Smith wrote as he talked, and talked as he thought— without effort, pretence, or self-consciousness.

New Zealand Listener, Volume 5, Issue 130, 19 December 1941, Page 14

S. P. Andrew photograph ROY KINGSTON SMITH, who died suddenly in Wellington the other week. Though only 39 he had extracted much variety from life, and taken the rough places as cheerfully as the smooth. Those who had listened to some of his depression stories—all of them personal experiences—know that in losing an entertaining companion they have lost also an entertaining book, since he kept a diary and intended one day to publish it. But readers of "The Listener" will chiefly miss the "K.S." articles which, though they did not often appear, never appeared without exciting grateful comment. For Kingston Smith wrote as he talked, and talked as he thought— without effort, pretence, or self-con-sciousness.