OUR GIRLS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXV, Issue 20028, 18 August 1928, Page 4 (Supplement)

OUR GIRLS.

ON THE HILLTOP.", I stood on the summit of a wooded hill-top and looked toward the plains below. It was dawn, and over all was drawn a cloak of soft grey mist. Slowly, as if by some unseen hand, tho cloak was parted and stretched out before me was a miniature world of almost ethereal beauty. At my feet lay tho township of Waihi. The red-roofed housetops, the rolling plains and the clustering trees—all had been cought in the icy grasp of " Jack Frost," The fields lay stretched out under' a white mantle of frost, broken at intervals by clusters of dark-green pines which stood like sentinels, guarding the nestling farm-houses. ■ With the coming of day the silent labour of night became more apparent. The gardens and lawns were covered with a thin coating of frost, the air was fresh, cold and cutting, while even the cloudless sky bore that indescribably cold, clear look, familiar to a winter's morning.

Hush! The red rim of the sun was appearing over the distant hilltops. Slowly he came in all his glory to look down on a sleeping world. In an instant everything seemed to spring to life. Birds twittered their welcome to the men.

People reluctantly awakened from their dreams of summer days to the acute realisation of another freezing morning with frozen taps, icy water and other inconveniences. Thin wisps of smoke curled into the clear air. Gradually the streets became filled with miners on their way to their labour, and a little later came the children as they sauntered to school, stopping now and then to exclaim at the spiders' glistered traceries or some other of Nature's beauties. The day wore dn. The last traces of " Jack Frost's " handiwork had long since disappeared xinder the sun's vigilant rays. The emerald fields, over which cloud shadows rolled and vanished, basked in the warm sunshine. In the distance rose the purple hills, behind which was the crystal dome of the sky, broken at intervals by frail white clouds that looked like woven lace. Everything was silver and dreamy in the golden sunshine of the August afternoon, At last the school bell rang, and out trooped the children, each eager to be the first to reach the open spaces. Then came the miners, trudging wearily homeward after a hard day's toil. Everything prepared for rest. The sun neared the

horizon and at last sank amid a cluster of rosy clouds over the western hilltops. The saffron of the sky merged into the dark, clear blue of night, dusk fell and gradually the valley became shrouded in soft fleecy mist. In the heavens there twinkled the first golden star, and over the hill hung the soft, silvery sheen of the rising moon.By Jean Croshw, Martha Hill, Waihi (age 14).