OLD PEGGOTTY'S TALES.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVII, Issue 235, 3 October 1936, Page 17 (Supplement)

OLD PEGGOTTY'S TALES.

(By Joan Faulkner, Jellicoe Avenue, Tuakau ; age 15 years.)

He had been old Peggotty for so long that few remembered his right name. When he had become too old for life at eea, he had settled down at this little seaside village, spending most of his time on the wharf, so that he was for ever near his beloved sea. Such tales as he could tell the children, and such ■wisdom with which he counselled the local sailors, came only from the experience 6f a life before the mast. They had called him "Peggotty" because they likened him to the famous character from Dickens, and lie, immensely flattered, had not objected. To-day he had chased the children off, and they were playing pirates on the beach below. As he sat puffing at his pipe, he seemed to be taking less notice of them than at other times. Suddenly he came out of his reverie, and called to the children. They came quickly and were soon in a ring round him, their eyes sparkling and their faces wreathed in eager.smiles. "What's the story to-day, Peggotty?" asked their leader,- a dark little imp with a roguish grin. " "Well, lads—=and lasses; too"—he began, "a man came to me the other day and said that the tales I've been telling you have been all of places far away. He thought I should tell of New Zealand. He'd noticed, too, that little Hine here" —he indicated a pretty Maori girl in the group—"is often given a low part in your games, because she is a Maori. I've just been thinking its true, so I'm going to take the advice of this visitor I had, and try to tell you of things that will make you love your own land, and respect your brown brothers. We'll start at the beginning in our tales of New Zealand. , You've probably had history lessons about the Maoris and the way they came to New Zealand, so quite likely you'll know the dates better than I do. But I'm sure 110 history teacher can tell you just what those Maoris really did, so I'll tell you."

The children listened with wide eyes to the story told only as an old "salt" cpuld tell it. They were not merely listening to old Peggotty, but were watching the great fleet on its voyage to New Zealand. The departure, to the wail of the blessings chanted by the tohungas, the weary monotony of the ocean, and their joy of sighting land, all became vivid realism.under Peggotty's Magic gift of narrative. By the time the climax of the story was reached, the children were staring out to sea, watching the picture conjured up. The carved prow of a canoe cleaves the "waters, as the rowers, their lean brown bodies glistening with salt-spray, flash the paddles into the sea. A breeze wafts the chants of the tohungas through the air, and as the canoe nears the shore the . occnpants' gaunt looks, showing that the food supply is all but exhausted, can be seen. The canoe barely touches before they tumble to the beach on legs weak from the cramped position. The children had shared with these adventurous Maoris the hardships of the long voyage; they had experienced the thrill on seeing the land of Aotearoa lying green and inviting in the blue Pacific; and they had landed with them at their new home. Before, the}' had dimly realised that the voyage was rather, wonderful, but now they appreciated the dangers and hardship of the arduous journey. If old Pegsotty had any misgivings in changing from his own sea tales to New Zealand stories, he lost them all when he saw the children playing "The Coming of the Maoris'" on the beach, with Hine directing the game. It was good to see her eyes lisrht up with pride in her ancestors. These children had learned that, instead of being beneath them, the Maoris were deserving of their respect. At the end of the gann Hine sought Peggotty out and shyly thanked him for her raised prestige. He jokingly replied that it was nothing, yet when she had gone he brushed the back of his hand across eyes suspiciously moist. A few days later he took the children for a ramble in the native forest behind the township. He was no botanist, but it appeared that Hine had spent some time in the bush and -was familiar with the trees and birds. The other children were shockingly ignorant, so in order to get them interested Peggotty told them some of the beautiful Maori legends connected with the forest and its feathered denizens. When they halted for lunch he told more of these fascinating stories, with Hine chanting the names he .stumbled over, so that the children heard the musical syllables with the true Maori inflections. Then the old sailor sat on a mossy bank and bade the children run off and play in the bush nearby. "Then," he said, "you may see some of the fairies so often mentioned in the legends." The whispering of the leaves and the joyous laughter of the stream which frolicked through the glade soon lulled

him to sleep. He woke with a start to find that all was silent, except for an occasional rustle and a bird call. He was alarmed at first, thinking that the children had strayed. A quick survey of the glade soon allayed his fears, for they were gathered in a group round Hine. She noticed him standing there, and broke off in something she was saying to run over to him. The little glade suddenly echoed with laughter again, as the other kiddies ran toward him. In spite of many protests for silence from Hine they told how she had kept them quiet by telling stories of native birds so that Peggotty's sleep should not be disturbed. Old Peggotty turned to thank her, but she only called, "One good turn deserves another," and was off, with a flashing smile, to lead the little band on a strange track back. Her talk had evidently not been in vain, for whenever they startled a bird into flight the children would identify it. Even the smallest of the band now knew the tui by its "white collar." When a bird call was heard across the valley the children breathed in one delighter voice, "A bellbird!" In a dark glade, where the trees grew so close that hardly a ray of sunshine crept through, they startled a morepork, and had a momentary glimpse of its great round eyes, before it bumped clumsily into flight. At last they came upon the little stream again, and stopped by it for a drink of its clear, earth-spiced water, and a rest. As they sat about on the mo3B, Peggotty asked them if they had seen any of the legendary fairies. They all laughed except Hine, who said, "I'm always seeing them. You others will see some now if you look. There!" She [jointed to the sparkling parts of the brook where the sunlight filtered through the leaves. Upon the rifpling surface the sunbeams glinted as they danced with the silvery spray. "Those that you think are sunbeams are fairies. Look at the way they trip and curtsy." The others could not deny that the beams took shape into tiny spangled dancers when the stream's surface was reached. In a little while another child ventured, "On that rock in the centre of the brook I think I can see a watersprite in a green water-weed dress." It might have been a piece of floating weed caught there, but as it was swept away, tliero was a twist of a lithe form and a glint of fair hair. Peggotty smiled as he stood up with them to continue the homeward journey. He liked to see the children let their imagination run riot, even if they were fast outgrowing the enchanted age. Yet the eldest of them was only 12 years of age, he reflected, so it would do them no harm to renew their acquaintance with the Little Folk. He realised that only the lure of seeking out these elusive folk would induce the children to wander about the forest and thus learn more of the native plants and , birds. J Evidently the children welcomed the ■ idea, too. Once started on the road to ; observing the beauties of their own land, they became very keen to find those I things of which Peggotty spoke in his ] tales of New Zealand. They would come I 1

to him to tell of some new flower or plant or bird that they had found, and always a fairy-—sprite, pixie or gnome, though it be—was connected with the discovery. Perha.ps it led them to the flower, or again it had its home beneath the' shade of tjie plant; sometimes it was gathering" honey, or playing in the pollen. Hine, especially, loved the new game. It gave her a chance to express her appreciation of beauty in any form—an appreciation inherent in the Maori race. She came to Peggotty one evening when a grey mist shrouded the countryside in its damp cloak. "I want to show you something beautiful," she cried. Old Peggotty wrapped a cloak about himself, grumbling all the while of the insanity of going out in such weather to see something beautiful. Yet there was a twinkle in his eye which Hine did not fail to see, so she took 110 heed of his grumbles. When they reached the fence round the cottage, she pointed to a street light about twenty yards down the road. It glowed faintly in the mist, a little circle of illumination in the greyness. "See how it glows like the flame of a candle behind a curtain," cried Hine. "Around it there is a halo of purple, and then the mist. Look closely a; the halo, Peggotty. Can you see the little purple and grey mist fairies swaying around the light? It is so pretty, it makes me feel a tug at my heart. Oh, Peggotty, do you ever have such a feeling? Whenever I see anything pretty, I long to express it." She hesitated for a moment. "I try, sometimes, to write my thoughts on paper." "Quite a good idea," said Peggotty. Then he grunted and turned about. "You'd better get away home, my lass, before you lose your bearings." She turned with a laugh and vanished like a wraith into the mist.

Even though it was summer time the mist had chilled the air, and Peggotty had lit a fire for warmth. When !iu returned to the house 110 sat before the glowing logs and puffed a meditative pipe. "He had grown very fond of the little Maori child of late," he mused. With her gift of seeing the picturesque pa' t of anything she was typical of the Maoris of old, who had given New Zealand so many place-names fraugnt. with beautiful meanings. When he was spinning a yarn to the little group of children he often noticed how her b'-own eyes shone and her whole form was h»id tense as she listened. True, most of the other kiddies listened attentively, but not with the alertness of Hine. Probably this was because the stories now were of her kins-people, or of Nature, but a'.ways of New Zealand. Peggotty watched the smoke from his pipe go curling upward, and mused on. A few days later the stranger who first aeked him to use his influence v-itli the children in encouraging then: in love of their own land came again. When greetings were over, old Peggotty said with a smile, "Well, I hope I've satisfied you." "Why, of course you have. I'm the teacher at the school here. I'd only been here a few months before the holidays, but in that time I found that the child-

ren hsd no time for anything to do with New Zealand. They had the idea that only pirates and happenings in places afar off were interesting. I found that it was you who told them these exciting stories, so I resolved to ask you to change the course throughout the holidays. I've been away tho whole time, so I couldn't watch your progress. However, school reopened, a. few days ago, and the difference in those kiddies is remarkable. I didn't dream you had such an influence over them. It'e a pleasure to teach, any subject touching on New Zealand now, for they love to hear of it. You have made a great difference in Hine, the little Maori girl. She isuffered from 'an Inferiority complex' before, but now ehe holds her head up with tho« best, and is proud of being a Maori. So I've come to thank you, both for myself and for the children," he concluded. RIDDLES. (Sent In by Betty Goodrlck, Bay of Plenty.) Q: .When does a man remind you of a candle? A: When he smokes as he goes out. Q: If a man went away on Friday, and two weeke later he came back on the same Friday that he went away, how did he do it? A: Because his horse was named Friday. Q: Where do bnbies like to go to sleep? A: In Lap-land, of course. (Sont in by John Penrgon. Mount Albert.) Q: Why doesn't it matter if a beggar wears a very short coat? Ai Because it will be long enough before he gets another. Q: What ie worse than having a hole in your stocking? A: Having one in each stocking. Q: Can you say how long girls should be loved? A: The same as short. (Sent in T>y Edwin Idoine, Mornlngslde.) Q: When docs a caterpillar improve in morals? A: When he turns over a new (Knew) leaf. Q: When does a man be said to breakfast, before he gets up? A: When he takes a roll in bed. Q: How long did Cain hate his brother? A: As long as he wns Abel. Q: What motive had the inventor of railroads in view? A: A loco-motive. Q: When are woods not weeds? A: When they become widows. Q: Where can happiness always be found? A: In the dictionary, of course. Q: What do we often catch, yet never ser ? A: A passing remark. Q: When docs h chair dislike you? A: When it ciin't brnr vou.