WHITE RATA

Evening Post, Volume CXI, Issue 138, 13 June 1931, Page 18

WHITE RATA

ONE day when the rata flower was still in bud she heard a squeaky voice which grew louder and louder, as if the speaker were getting closer and closer all the time, saying: "But are you sure it is not a whitt rata?" ■ "Yes, I'm sure it isn't." answered a gentle fairy voice. ■ "Well, that's as may tie. I shall see for myself.'' ' • The rata fl<rw«r heard the footsteps of two people coming close. * She ■ had rather to imagine that there were two, for she could not see anything, and, in fact, one set of footsteps was so light that she could scarcely hear them. The others, however, - were stumbling and clumsy, and made a great noise. "I have been looking for days and I cannot find a single white rata. I know there is one somewhere hereabouts. It must be this one!" It was useless for the fairy to protest that it wasn't. "It's red —always has been red," she kept saying. But the obstinate little man persisted, and ias there were no rata flowers yet out he announced that he would wait until one was. All the time he kept repeat-, ing that he was "positive that it was a white one." ■ ■ 1 Actually that little man camped under the rata tree for two days and nights waiting for a flower to open. It would take far too long to tell you all that he did in that time —how he jumped and danced in his impatience, how he trod back and forth, sometimes almost

running, with his hands clasped behind his back, how many tinifes he said he was positive ii was a, white one," and how—oh. that's enough. All this the rata flower heard and, having an imagination, she could fill in. the gaps. An imagination is sometimes as good as sight. And all the time the fairy kept guard over the rata flowers in case the little man should take it into his head to climb up and forcibly open the bud to see the colour of the flower. Apparently, however, he never thought of doing such a thing, for he didn't attempt it. "When finally the rata flower did begin to open the first thing she saw was a vexed, funny face looking up at her. No sooner had she seen it, though, than she heard the now familiar voice speak, or rather squeal; "It is red." Then there was a sound of hurried departure and she saw nothing more of the little man. Afterwards the fairy told her that he was the Queen's Chief Botanist and had been sent out to search for a white rata tree. . ■: "He's such an obstinate fellow that he wouldn't believe a word I said about this tree being a red one. Now, you see, he has wasted all this time and the Queen will ■be angry with him. Serve him light!" The rata flower quite agreed with her. "G.C.A." Trentham.