LIFE ON THE LAND.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 189, 12 August 1933, Page 3 (Supplement)

LIFE ON THE LAND.

INTEREST IN NEIGHBOURS,

HOW NEWS SPREADS,

I he Country cousin came liome from a "holiday in the eltj, and on her left hand she wore a new and sparkling ring. Oil the day after her return three neighbours came to spend the afternoon with her mother, so that t*iey would hear the latest news from town. The custom then prevailing was that anyone who had a holiday in the city should share her experiences with the neighbours when sho returned, for those were the days when trips to Auckland wclv very lew and far between. But it was not usual for visitors to come so soon after one's arrival home, and the Country Cousin guessed that news of lier ring had travelled round the district, eiao why the hurry to see her again?

The homesteads were all at least a mile apart, and as it was the middie of winter, the clay tracks connecting each home were in bad state. Neither motor cars nor metalled roads had as yet penetrated into their backblocks district, on the outskirts of the bush, so communication was usually dependent 011 the cream wagon, or riding oil horseback from place to place. Still, news travelled in spite of drawbacks,-especially if it fell upon the ears of tho woman who loved to bo able to say that sho had known the news first. One's enthusiasm in imparting all item was often damped when this woman said briskly, "Oh, didn't you know that before? 1 knew it long ago!" Her little peculiarity in this direction made her particularly alert for anything in the news line. Sometimes, but not very often, someone else heard an interesting tit-bit first, and spread it through the district before sho had a chance to do so — an engagement, a wedding, a new baby, or even a forthcoming dispersal sale. Then great was her disgust. Getting Acquainted. It so happened on the occasion of the Country Cousin's return that this woman's fourteen years old son was out shooting with the girl's brother and was invited to have dinner with the family. Not a word was said about an engagement, but his quick eyes were caught and held by tho sparkling diamonds. He was not his mother's son for nothing, so lie paid particular attention to which hand the ring adorned. His mother almost jumped for joy when he breathlessly told her. A firsthand bit of news, and such a surprise for everybody! Nobody ever dreamed of Country Cousin getting engaged for years. She was just seventeen, and had never seemed to take much notice of the "boys," but evidently one could not bo sure of going by outward appearances. Sho was an unusual girl in their district—rather clever, and too quick with lier answers for tho boys' liking, for they had an uneasy feeling that she was laughing at them. They were rather scared of her cleverness, although she was so young and they did find her cleverness useful sometimes, in explaining things they had read in books, or in totalling up the butterfat returns when cream cheque drew near. Tho news-spreader deckled that it would be a good idea for her to visit the family and see if the girl really was engaged, and if so, to whom, and when and where? On her way she called in passing at a neighbour's homestead, for it was considered very mean and unsociable. of anyone to pass a neighbour's gato without calling in for at least a few minutes' chat. Casually she mentioned that she was going to see .Tessie Brown, who had come from Auckland yesterday, and was wearing a diamond ring. She carefully refrained from saving" it was an engagement ring, but of course, the mere mention of diamonds was enough for any woman. The neighbour turned to her daughters. "Betty and Molly, you should go with Mrs. Green. You'll be company for her on that long, lonely road. The way doesn't seem half so long when someone is walking with you." Smiling in agreement, although she was secretly chagrined, Mrs. Green said it would bo very pleasant if the girls would accompany her. It was a glorious winter afternoon. The track acioss the hills was muddy and slippery, but tliey were used to that and never noticed it. From the verandah of the homestead in the valley, Country Cousin—Jessie Brown — S aw the visitors coming down tho hills, and was able to recognise them while they were still a long way off. by the colour of their hats and coats. Slipping her ring from her finger, she put it fn her cardigan pocket, tying it in the corner of her handkerchief for safety, then went across the paddocks to meet the neighbours.

An Interested Audience. Not a word was mentioned about her engagement, although Mrs. Green and the girls Were listening eagerly for the faintest hint of such a happening m the account of her holidays She said her holiday had been wonderful, for sllO had gone out every day to see some particular sight—the Museum, the Art Gallery and library several times,_ the Zoo and the pictures or.ee or twice. Secretly the girls thought it was rather dull for she had not.been to a single danco or cabaret. , , . ~ They sat on the verandah in the winter sunshine. The bustling city was far away.' Home was meant to be in the country, where one had peace and quietness to think. , . , At last Mrs. Green thought they had heard enough about tlio Art Gallery. They had come to hear about Jessies engagement, and it was time they did. "Jim said you were wearing i. beautiful diamond ring yesterday," she said archly. "Are we safe in congratulating Country Cousin looked at her neighbours' faces, all alight with expectancy, and with a hint of envy in the girls eves, for she was younger than they were. She was very sorry to send the rumour crashing, the rumour which she <niessed was already lialf-way round the district, but it had to be done sooner or later. Carefully she undid the knot in her handkerchief and slowly she slipped the ring on to the finger of her left hand —the only finger it fitted. And softly she sighed as she explained. 'My uncle found this ring years ago, and although he advertised it well, it was never claimed. I am his eldest nicce so he gave it to me!" She held out her hand for their admiration. but it came perfunctorily—the glamour had gone. It was not an engagement ring.