Page:Life·of·Seddon•James·Drummond•1907.pdf/378



When in the streets a prince rode by We looked at him with careless eye; Even the most distinguished peer Passed through our midst with scarce a cheer, But nothing in the world would deaden Our interest in Mr. S-dd-n!

Since this is so—and so it is— Since only eloquence like his With our imperial needs can cope, I venture to express the hope That England, at her Armageddon, Will have the help of Mr. S-dd-n!

The home of “Seddon” stories is the West Coast of New Zealand. It was there that he was best known as a man and a friend. On his visits to the Coast he threw aside all the trammels of office, and went among the people as one of them. His journeys to that part of the colony were triumphal processions, and royalty could hardly have aroused greater public interest.

In 1904 he celebrated his “political silver jubilee” by a special visit to the Coast, where he was received with unbounded enthusiasm. A journalist who accompanied him on that visit states that “if he rode or drove, young and old would wait along the road to do him honour. Red-cheeked children would swing on gates and wave hats and handkerchiefs; their parents would come forward with the certainty that Mr. Seddon would pull up and ask a few questions that would indicate his clear recollection of their family and affairs. In Kumara was Mr. Seddon’s old home, whose trees he had planted with his own hands, and he never missed an opportunity of visiting the spot from which he had come forward to take charge of a young nation. When the Premier spoke of those old days, he became once more the genial ‘Digger Dick,’ whom the Coast has never allowed to sink in the Right Honourable R. J. Seddon.”

Another pen-picture by a journalist represents Mr. Seddon at a ceremony connected with the opening of a section of a railway on the Coast. The writer says:—“Gathering little knots around him, he spun yarns for their amusement, and started songs with rollicking choruses, in which his voice