THE LONE REED.

Hawera Star, Volume XLV, 27 March 1926, Page 18

THE LONE REED.

Many, many years ago, before our fathers walked this earth, and. 'before their lathers’ fathers wa'ked this earth, when the world was young and only the birds knew how to sing, there hewed a great and mighty river. The sun danced on its rippling waters, the golden water-lilies :swayed with the tide. By its swampy shores the tall, straight reeds and rushes bowed and shook in the breeze. A blithe little bird sat on the topmost; bough of a drooping tree and sang how fair the. world was. .

The Spirit of Beauty, chancing to pass that way, paused to listen to the lovous music" ' One tall, straight, lonely reed listened, too, and whispered to himself: ‘.Oh. if 1 cou’d only give a song .like that to the world! 1 can do nothing but shake and sway, and, look at my tall, straight self in the river.” The All-Wise Spirit heard the wish and said quietly: “Would you, too, sing and make glad the world?” “If only.l knew lipw!” sighed the jonely reed. “I can show you,” said Beauty. “Oh, Wise One, please tell me quickly 1” answered the reed; and swayed and shook in his eagerness to know -the secret.

‘‘.There is only one way,” the Spirit spoke in soft, low tones. “It /is a lonely hitter path of pain, that only the brave can tread. Little Reed, can you be brave, too?” At first the Reed did not answer, but stood straight and still, saddened bv the words of the Spirit. He had not thought the way would hurt. Again the little bird on the tree-top burst forth into song, a tune with merry thrills and eager callings. “Ob, Wise One,’ 7 faltered the reed, when the last note had died away, “I shon’d like to try.’’ t . Th e Spirit of Beauty laughed gently and grfisped the reed with strong and tender hands ' “You, too, , shall make music for the world.” sajd he. With one long, steady pull he heaved and tugged. The reed wanted to shriek, aloud as he fe\t his deep root loosening in the warm, -moist earth. But he had a song to sing, and tried to be brave. V

At last he lay, bruised and shaken, on the swampy bank. The All-Wise Spirit seated himself to work. With busy fingers lie stripped the reed of its fresh green covering. The reed sighed dolefully, as he watched the bright dress which he had worn so proudly go floating down the river. But worse was to folloyv. He was gripped firmly, and bent first one way then another, till his stately was twisted off. That, too, was flung out on the wide stream.

The Spirit held the reed out at arm’s length and looked at it thoughtfully. Very carefully he spanned his hand from the edge of th e reed, and marked where his thumb ended. Half that distance again he measured off, and once more bent and twisted the brave.lilt'e reed, till snap! Only the measured part was left. The reed had grown, very small indeed. “Oh. Wise One,” said the reed humbly, “my bright green dress has gone. I am 'no longer tall and straight and strong. Never again can I grow with tl4 other reeds and rushes. Am 1 ready to make music now?” “Not yet,"’ answered the Spirit. “You have been brave and' patient, little reed, but you are not ready.” Again he held the shortened stick in one hand. and,, with something sharply pointed, he scooped and scraped out the white pith within. At last only a short dried, hollow stick was left. The reed heard the slrrili wind rush through him and was glad. Surely 1 am ready now?” he whispered joyously. “Not vet, little reed, not just yet,” said Beauty. The reed moaned and sighed afresh. “My brightest green dress has gone. I have lost my place among the reeds and rushes. Never again shall, I see my tall, straight self in the water. I am only a dry hollow stick for the wind to rush through. Why, oh, why did [•think I should make music to gladden the world?”

“Patience a little longer,” laughed the Spirit. “So, near the end and despairing!” The reed took courage. I will wait a little ’longer,” said he. j The Spirit hacked and notched the dried stick till there was a row of round, smooth holes.

“Oh, Spirit,” pleaded the reed in a very small .voice, “surety I a'in. ready now?” The Spirit laughed gldty. He rubbed and polished the'stick, then he spoke. “Well done, Uttlo reed,” he said. ‘Bravely you have trodden the way. Mow you shall make music to gladden the world.” The spirit held the pipe to his lips and blew,a few, soft notes. There was a. rush of silver sound, like the trippi n/r of fairy feet in merry dancing. The timid rabbits and squirrels crept nearer to'listen.- The golden waterlilies unclosed their sleepy heads. The Soirit played on, one merry little tune after another. The red setting sun stared with wonder at the magic singing stick of the Wise One. The breeze hushed itself, the reeds and rushes stood stiff and straight as they listened' to the songs of their brother. The music grew louder and stronger. From out of the shadowy trees large hairy beasts sto’e nearer and nearer; up from the green grass lands glided the creeping, crawling things ; out from the oozy river-beds crawled the soft and slimy things. They sat- in a ring and listened, while the Sun and the Moon both stared together. Still the Spirit, played the merry music, till they all began, to dance —the fluffy rabbits and brightey.d squirrels, the creeping, crawling things, the hairv four-footed things-, the reeds and the" rushes—while the O’d Man iii the Moon rooked with laughter and the little stars twinkled with delight. Years and years have passed, and the world has grown old. Now hundreds of reeds in great organs all over the world make music for man. because of their first little brother who trod the wav.