EASTER EGGS

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XXVI, Issue 101, 9 April 1936, Page 15

EASTER EGGS

Hilary’s egg was a wonderful tning— Three times as big as her plate— Silvery paper and silvery string, Hilary smiled as she ate. She know, did that maiden, only too well, What that wonderful egg would hold— Bichest and creamiest chocolates wrapped In royal and crimson and gold! Nan to the kitchen ran eagerly in When the breakfast table was laid, There she discovered a pretty, blue , x. a x Her mother’s worn fingers had made. And oh, the laughter that broke from her lips, The “Oh’s!” and the “Ah’s”! that she cried, The sparkle that leapt to her eyes when she found, A fluffy wee chicken Inside! Dear Kiwis, —To continue last week’s letter, giving a first impression of London. You will remember that, after a description of the varied life of the Thames, of tugs, lighters, .sailing barges, etc., yvo had come to thoughts of the docks, which were 24 miles away from the Underground railway, and then about 12 miles into Piccadilly. The writer goes on to say:—“They put up with lots of things that we of New Zealand would want altered. On all that long stretch of dock there is no pillar box. It takes me threequarters of an hour to post a letter. (He means, of course, from his boat). It is ill-paved and muddy, and they are only just laying a ferro-concrete surface —and this is quite an ordinary London dock. To get to South Woolwich —a military townlet, you take a free vehicular ferry across the Thames. There are great flat paddle steamers, almost as wide as they are long, and their captains handle them with marvellous skill in the strong current. There is a constant stream of ships going and coming—often two abreast and doing 12 knots. Sailing barges, tugs, strings of towed barges, and across this three of these awkwardlooking barges ply continuously, one at the wharf at either side, and one hanging about in the centre, dodging the shipping and waiting to berth. They come straight for the wharf—stop—swing around at an angle, go slowly ahead, holding their positions like a trout in the rapids, and let the tide sidle them into the jetty.

The passing show on the Thames is a source of tireless interest. Night and day incessantly, every imaginable type and nationality <jf craft comes and goes in a constant stream. Just while I was casually looking the other day, a Swedish freighter was towed up with her after quarter half severed. She was laden with timber to the eyebrows, and some had been used as a collison mat. Nobody took much notice. Several may have been killed on her, but such things occur every day to a greater or lesser extent here, and it is impossible to regard the individual or his troubles very seriously in this huge busy anthill. All these things, togethev with about two suicides a day, and two men killed on the pavement by a flying police patrol car at 55 m.p.h. through the streets and over the footpaths—all these things have occurred since I have been here —about a fortnight. It certainly gives one that broad outlook, and engenders a certain fatalism and callousness, though paradoxically awakening a conception of and sympathy for the struggles and sufferings of mankind in general. From Heaven, .we must look a particularly crude mass of worms writhing and struggling for a bare living. One simply can’t realise it in New Zealand and yet, viewed closely through the microscope, it is warmly human th roughout. It is difficult to convey through a letter written on watch, as this is, the impression one gets. One would have to write an essay, poem, or book to do it, and then might not catch the spirit of it all.” Next week, Kiwis mine, I shall give you the conclusion of this letter —only a short page or two, but containing beautiful thoughts. And now I shall leave you with the hope that you will all spend a very happy Eastertide. I must add a welcome to a new Kiwi, Joan Smith. I hope that Easter eggs will have satisfactory contents, and that you will write and tell me of how you spent the time. With my love to you all— CHIEF KIWI. This week I will write about the silk cocoons in India. First they are like tiny balls of wool among the leaves, the young ciloon being inside. Then the people ir India take them all in boxes to be picked over, separating the male from the female. After that they are put into boxes again and taken away to the mills, where they are put into small boxes to dry in the sun. Their journey as cocoons is now finished. They are put into machines where they are made into skeins of silk. The poor cocoons are dropped into boiling water under the machines. The silk is next put into different machines and made into the most beautiful silk shawls, a.ostly white, but some being bordered with coloured flowers. It is wonderful when the silk is made up to think that it comes from little silk worms. Love to all. —Orange certificate to Silver Poplar, aged 14 years, Otane. (You haven’t made your description very clear, Silver Poplar.—C.K.) SENIOR ESSAYS. As my brother was coming nome from the store one Saturday morning a little wire-haired fox terrier pup followed him. He seemed to be very hungry, so we gave him a saucer of milk and some scraps to eat. Wheu he had finished ha wandered all round the back yard and into dad’s toolshed and made himself a bed ou a sack to have a sleep. Dad said ho would be like ail other dogs that con o here, have a feed and then run away, but to our surprise when we got up in the morning he was sitting on the door step. We were going to the beach in the lorry so we took puppy with ui. (To ba continued). —Pink Certificate to “Briar Rose,” age 13 years, Stortford Lodge. (If no one has claimed your little I stray, “Brin Ruse,” you will find him

a great chum. A wire haired terrier is faithful and intelligent.—C.K.) Old Mau Winter is slowly coming round again, and now we have his herald, Autumn, warning us of his approach. The days grow shorter, tne nights cooler, and the' bathing enthusiasts are in less of a hurry to enter the water, and are quicker out of it. In the mornings I find myself very sorry to leave my bed, and when the last lingering moment of warmth is past, and I huddle myself into my clothes, I am anxious to have exercise, or, preferably I must admit, sit before a fire. And so old hoary Winter will soon arrive, and we’ll all shiver when ho feels angry, ami make the most of it wheu he rolls away the rainclouds and lets the sun smile down. Raincoats and umbrellas will become fashionable once more. Once he’s gone, I suppose we’ll remember that after all we did have a good time while he was staying, though we couldn’t see it at the time. Well, I think we have a good time all the year round although we complain so much at the weather. Love to all. —Pink Certificate to “Buster Brown,” age 13 years, Hastings. (Autumn is treating us very kindly as I write this, “Buster Brown,” and it almost seems as though summer is still with us.—C.K.) To-day my brothers and I decided as a change to make a fire in the sand and roast some potatoes and onions. We scraped a fairly large hole and set our fire. At first a blaze was set up but as we only- had light wood on this soon died down. After putting on some more wood and poking and blowing it, a cheerful blaze rewarded our efforts When some ashes were ready we put in half the potatoes and onions and busied’ourselves getting more wood while these were cooking. We also boiled some water and made some tea which turned out lovely. When we thought the potatoes were cooked we took them out and found some only half-cooked, but we ate them nevertheless. Later we cooked the others and these turned out better. Love to all. —Blue Certificate to “Marigold,” age 13 years, Otane. (Half-cooked potatoes are most indigestible, “Marigold,” but I think that boys and girls who are picnicking don’t bother about digestion, and il was all groat fun. My home garden consists of numerous varieties of flower plants. Along both sides there is a border of many different coloured primroses, while at both ends there is a narrow border of

different varieties of violets. Now al both ends I have a row of stately, erect hollyhocks, in front of which is a large fuchsia bush. In the middle are the various coloured asters, which are aglow in autumn. Scattered about in the garden are dahlias, antirrhinums, ranunculus, verbenas, nemesias, carinas, mignonette, also four rose bushes, and gladiola. When these flowers are out the garden looks very pretty —Blue Certificate to “Kowhai,” ago 12 years, Nuhaka. (Your garden sounds a charming place, “Kowhai.” Couldn’t ytm manage to find a corner for your namesake, a kowhai bush? —C.K.) Already the trees are showing a tinge of yellow. This is a sign that autumu is commencing. It is a prettysight indeed to see the poplar trees in their golden coloured leaves. In another two or three months all these trees will shed their leaves and will be looking very bare. About that time we will be approaching the middle of winter, and we have to wear thicker clothes to keep ourselves warm. In the frosty mornings I find it hard to leave my warm bed, but mother calls out and says that the porridge is ready, so I have to get up. I jump up quickly and bustle round, and have my hot breakfast which I enjoy very much. I somehow look forward to these cold frosty mornings as it is nice and com fortable having a good warm by the fire. —Blue Certificate to “Top Knot,” age 12 years, Hastings. (Cold mornings are good for those boys who come out to hot porridge and warm fires, but some children have neither of these comforts, and cold mornings, to them, must be very hard. -C.K.) I attended the Show last Thursday, and enjoyed myself very much. I went with my Aunty and my cousins. When we arrived at the show grounds wo went to see the cars. We liked looking at them and seeing which one wc liked best. We stayed there till it was dinner-time. After dinner we walked through the gardens and admired the beautiful flowers, and clear and cocl water which surrounded the lawn. Later we went round the side-shows. 1 liked throwing rings over things. I won threepence, and a kewpie, a brooch, and two P.K.’s. When we tired of that we walked through the sheds. The flowers were beautiful, especially the dahlias. There were some very big pumpkins and water-melons. The Women’s Institute had a great display, showing how to make different things. We returned to the car and had afternoon tea, then left for home after a very enjoyable day. Love. —Red Certificate to “Diamond,’' age 13 years, Havelock North. (Which uas your favourite cat. “Diamond ’ ’ ? —C.K. 1 One day while trekking through the bush we espied four baby rabbits hopping about in the grass. “Let’s catch them,” said my friend, “and take them home so that I may put them with my others.” He dashed off leav ing me to my own resources. I sot about trying to chase a little long cared fellow who was. hopping about everywhere. Chasing him for about a quarter of an hour I wondered whenthat came into my mind. Wonderin’’ what the time was T consulted my watch and il was quarter of an hour before dark. Just M light was fading the

crack of a twig startled me and running to where the sound came from 1 came face to face with my friend. Love to all Kiwis. —Orange Certificate to “To Kooti,” age 13 years, Hastings. (Now that you are writing again, “To Kooti,” pay great attention, please, to the rules, and don’t ever forget to state your age.—C.K.) I am a shilling. One day, when I was bright and new a rich lady came into a shop to do her shopping. I was given to her as change, and put in to her handoag along with other money. After being carried round for some time I found myself in the till of a grocer's shop, where 1 was locked up all night Next day a girl was sent to buy some groceries, and 1 was given with other money as change. When the girl arrived home she gave me tu

her mother. 1 remained there for a week when a hawker came and 1 found myself in a rather grimy pocket. Next day 1 was given in 'exchange for two loaves of bread. I did not remain in the baker’s shop long before J was given in change to a buj. He took me imine and his mother told him to put me into his money box. With love. (To be Continued.) —Orange certificate to Kiro Itiro, aged 12 rears, Otane. (The shilling appears to have had rather a dull time, Hiro Riro, between handbags, pockets, and tills. I do iiope something interesting and romantic will happen to it before it is too late.—C.K.) I am writing about the Otane Sunday School picnic Last Saturday the Otane School had a picnic down at the river. It was quite rainy in the morning, but, tt cleared up in the

afternoon. There were four cars coming to codect the Otane children. The Sunday School people inivted the Te Kure children to the picnic. When we got there they put up two swings for us—one lor boys and another for girls. We had a game of lounders and our side won because the other side wanted to play another game. We decided on a game of Dog and the Bone. After we had played it a little while we had dinner. Next we had running races, and then we went home. Txive to all. —Orange certificate to Jackdaw, aged 11 years, Otane. (It was nice that the weather cleared for your picnic. Jackdaw.—C.K.) About a hundred years ago there were wars between pakehas and Maoris. The local paramount chief, Ihaka Whaanga, known also as a ‘‘White Chief,” fought with the pakehas from the beginning to the end.

He was presented with a sword and • uniform and five hundred acres of land at Waikokopu and a monument has been erected in his memory. —Aotea, Nuhaka.