BOOK WEEK

Hawera Star, Volume LIII, 10 June 1933, Page 6

BOOK WEEK

SCHOOLS ESSAY COMPETITION PRIZE-WINNING COMPOSITIONS. In connection with '“Book Week” an essay competition was promoted for children attending the Hawera primary and secondary schools. The names of successful competitors have been previously published. The following are the essays awarded first place in each of the three sections of the competition: —

HAWERA TECHNICAL HIGH SCHOOL. “The Delights of Reading”—By Elsa Flavell. I always open a book hesitantly, rather fearfully, wondering as to the new scenes I am about to see in fancy, the new people lam to meet; "will the scenes interest me —shall I come to feel that I have made new friends when the book is finished?.. A few chapters, perhaps only a few- pages, read in this frame of mind, and I have wandered quite into the. enchanting realms of fancy. For a while, the adventures I read are mine, and I dwell among the scenes pictured by the writer. ’

The practice of millions testifies to the great and universal delight afforded by reading; but the pleasure given by a good book lasts not only for the time of reading. It is carried on for as long as we remember the book, for in thought we can often again pursue the adventures of which we have read. Fairy-tale books I delighted in when my belief, in the little -folk was unshaken —the thought ,qf them brings back the joy I experienced in reading them.. They -were some of the best of all, those fairy-tale books, and. I am not ashamed to tell it. I learnt the love of fairy-tales and. legends in my very earliest days, when my mother told them to me. There are some books that recall clearly the circumstances under which they Were read, and similar circumstances also recall the books. I had been reading Edith Howe’s “Rainbow Children” one night some years ago, and had wakened early the next morning to lie waiting for the full coming of the light, when I might read again. Dim shadows filled my room, and from without came the softened crowing of roosters, reminding me of one of Edith Howe’s stories. Ever since I have thought of “Rainbow Children” on waking in the grey dawn light, and all the joy of those entrancing tales has come vividly back to me. . “Peter Pam” was . another of my favourites —still is, I should say. How busy my mind was for long after I had read it, weaving delightful fancies about the never-never-land! llow .1 envied Wendy, and waited often for Peter Pan to come flying through my window, as he did through hers! Legend's, so very akin to fairy tales, have always fascinated me, too. Those beautiful stories the bards used to sing are as fresh and wonderful to-day as they were when the people of the ancient world listened to them entranced.

Since the days when I read “Peter Pan" I have read and learned to count as friends many other boohs, both classical and otherwise. I have wandered also into the realm of poetry, and delighted in the beauties I have found there-

The two non-classical writers who Have given me greatest pleasure are L. M. Montgomery and Gene .Stratton Porter—the first above all. Her books arc so simple, her topics are of ordinary life, and yet her books caw entrance the reader—her characters are so real that it is hard to believe they have never existed. ‘They seem indeed like people who have been our friends. The descriptions of natural beauties found in these books are vivid and colourful, arid the books are such as one enjoys reading again and again.

The lighter type of hook is for relaxation, while the longer works of the classical writers are for more intellectual pleasure. The impression left hy a light novel, however, is fleeting. Among the classics we find books that are as friends to us all our lives. Historical novels and hooks df travel have given me special Joy. History as a subject at school seems often dull and uninteresting, hut to read books of history without the necessity of studying them fully, or to read historical novels, is an occupation full of fascination and scope for the imagination. Historical novels of the lighter type, such as those of the Baroness Ozczy, are full of romance and very pleasing to read, while the more stately type such as “.B.ienzi’ ’ present in v i% icl colours the glamour of ages long gone by. In reading it one learns a great deal of the time at which “The Last of the Tribunes” lived, while the characters appear far more life-like and interesting than when read of in the course of learning history; they are endowed with motives and impulses such as we ourselves experience, and wo feel a far greater sympathy with them than when merely reading of their deeds and the results of them. Travel hooks also present pictures of other lands far more interesting than the statistics learned from geography books. After reading Dickens’s “Pictures from Italy” one feels almost as if one had travelled with the writer into that picturesque and beautiful land, roaming among the quaint old towns and exploring wonderful cathedrals; caught hv the glamour of Vienna or the strange sense of mystery and desolation over the old Campagna; visiting by moonlight the ruins of ancient Pome and taking part in the joyous festival in the modern quarter of the “eternal city.”

Many a Trappy hour have I spent among' the and in the realms of poetry. Of poets, the one that pleases me best of all is Shelley, whose poems are full of wild fancies and strange, unearthly beauty. Sli ■a ngo revolutionary ideas Shelley certainly held to, but although one does not agree with his theories put forward in Queen Mab" and "The Revolt of Islam" one cannot help being cnchantod by the beauty of his descriptions. It is very hard truly to name some ot the books that have given me greatest pleasure—hard to select the best from so many that are good. I think that as long as I can read I shall bo always happy, for I know of no great--01 pleasure than to let my mind go wandering away into realms of fancy.

HAWERA TECHNICAL HIGH

SCHOOL. JUNIOR SECTION. “My Favourite Book Character” —By Audrey Stewart. Different authors adopt different methods of bringing out their heroes. Some lead the most unexpected character to the place of the hero. Some make their characters so beautiful from the beginning that the. reader catches the spirit at once and lives the book. So has Eleanor Porter brougnt out the beautiful character of PoJlyanna.

The reason for my liking this char>(,ter best is the charming personality of Pollyanna. She was such a happy little girl, with an imaginative mind. She always found sometuing to be glad about ins’everything, and when a great disappointment came to Pollyanna, she would bear it bravely without a tear,, and find something to be glad about in it. _

Pollyanna was left an orphan at eleven years of age and was under the care of the Ladles’ Aid. She had an aunt who was her dead mother’s sister. Her guardians wrote to her aunt, Miss Polly Harrington, asking her to take her niece to live -with her. Now, Miss Polly was a woman whose every feature spelled the word “duty” in large letters, and she considered it her duty to adopt her niece. The moment Pollyanna stepped into the house she offended her aunt. She was constantly saying that she was glad about this, or that, and this habit riled her aunt bevond words.

Pollyanna’s gladness was not confined to herself alone. She spread the light of happiness among her fellow people. Two outstanding instances of this were the conversion of Mrs Snow from a dour, grumpy, bedridden woman to a glad, happy lady like Pollyanna, and a certain Mr John Pendleton. Mr John Pendleton was a retiring, miserly old bachelor of whom everybody was afraid except Pollyanna. She always spoke to him in the street and at . last he began to say, “Hullo.” Under a very strange circumstance, about two years later, she came into his life more intimately and they became great friends. All this time Miss Polly was gradually becoming a softer, and a less severe woman. One proof of this was that she moved Pollyanna down from the tiny, stuffy attic room into the room of her dreams —a- room with carpets and pictures. One fatal day a most unfortunate accident befel Pollyanna. She was run over by one of the terrible new automobiles. She was carried to the Harrington homestead, unconscious, and the pallid face of her aunt was sufficient to tell how. much she loved her little niece. No wonder the watchers’ faces paled as they looked at the once bright, happy face they all loved so much, now so deathlike and still. It was an unbearably' long time before Pollyanna regained consciousness. Then tins dear little girl decided that she

I was glad that, other people were not in bed with sore legs. I It was not till now that Miss Polly '.realised the number of friends Pollyanna really had. Every hour of the day someone appeared, inquiring after the “little glad girl,” and telling Miss Pollv how Pollyanna • had made their lives cheerful in some way or other. When, at last, her aunt heard how Pollyanna had been making other people so glad, she started trying to be glad herself, so, in this way Pollyanna reached her longed-for goal. These are the little gems of characters one often finds in a book. Glad isouls that make everyone happy like themselves and greatly change circumstances from dulncss to brightness. Pollyanna is one of these characters, and .anyone who is feeling doleful or 'hopeless has just to read the book in which is my favourite character, Pollyanna, because such souls are sent to cheer people on their way. HAWERA MAIN SCHOOL.

'‘My Adventures in Bookland” —By Vera Burgess. Books! “Casquets of literature.” Many a happy hour I have spent devouring the words and chapters of interesting volum'es. Figures, real and imaginary, struggling; in the giant web of destiny, enthralling me with their exciting adventures. “The iSearlet Pimpernel, ”, that stirring tale of the French .devolution, written by Baroness Orczy, is, I think, my favourite book. One almost imagines oneself as the heroine, or hero in the story, as it gradually opens out. I have often lost myself, in fanciful dreams, fighting the humorous battles of Don Quixote, “Singeing the King of Spain’s beard,” discovering new lands, treasure islands, and playing the thrilling part of Born a in '“Lorna Doone. ”

People flitting before my eager eyes, brought back from the dark years of long ago. Mighty Caesar, in his robes of battle; Napoleon, with his thirst to conquer; Jleane d’Arc, on her noble charger; commons, sighting America; Florence Nightingale,' with her lamp; William Shakespeare, a pen in his hand; haughty Queen Elizabeth, with Sir Walter Raleigh in her wake; Drake, John Hawkins, Charles Dickens and the characters in his stories, David Copperfield, Oliver Twist, Silas the Jew, little Nell, Abel Tasman, Captain Cook, the Maori chiefs of old fighting in their fierce battles—all return from the Realm of Bookland to entrance me, and grip my thoughts, when, with ardent expectation, I open', and commence to read, the works of our authors.