A COUNTRY GIRL'S DAY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVIII, Issue 20982, 19 September 1931, Page 4 (Supplement)

A COUNTRY GIRL'S DAY.

By KATHLEEN" ODEY, "Whakamnrama, . Tauranga. (Age 17 years.) Original. When the first streaks of dawn pierce tho gloom of night the day begins. The boys are up and dressed in a few minutes, the fire lit and the tinkle of teacups comes from the direction of the kitchen. I stifle a yawn and feel very glad that my brothers are capable of obtaining early morning tea for themselves without the aid of a sister. As the gentle lowing of cows reaches me through the clear morning air I, too, hurry and dress, then peep out of the window to greet the dawn. I see a pale lilac sky with a few fleecy clouds; then I rush to the kitchen to prepare breakfast as mum dresses my little sister Jeannette, and superintends the washing of my younger brothers. Breakfast is just starting as a hum of a lorry is heard, indicating that the cream lorry is at the gate. Perhaps there is a letter to be posted, so it is hurried out to the obliging driver. Breakfast over at last; the boys are off to school while dad and my elder brothers proceed to their various duties on the farm. While mum makes _ beds and sweeps I wash the breakfast dishes, accompanied by the incessant prattle of Jeannette. As I give the kitchen its daily wash and scrub the doorstep, the beautiful music of tuis and bellbirds can be plainly heard, and I pause for a moment in mv work and gaze at their flitting forms glittering in the sunlight among a clump of trees not twenty yards away: or perhapS I let my gaze wander over the bright green fields to where the azure sky melts into the green and where a lark is almost bursting his little throat for sheer joy. But I must not linger in my tasks; there's lunch to be prepared, and a score of other little jobs; the morning flies away and a long, loud whistle from the timber mill indicates twelve o'clock. The boys troop in from school, full of jolly school talk; the morning's events are discussed, then a pushing back of chairs and quietness once more. Dishes are washed once more, then I can resist the lure of out-of-doors no longer, so I take Jeannette down to the orchard to look for ducks' nests; the white blossoms of the wild strawberries resemble tiny snow-flakes among the green grass. A wild chorus of birds' voices—thrushes, blackbirds, sparrows and fantails —comes from the bush near ; then sometimes a subdued " coo-coo " is heard from a native pigeon. Going back to the house through the garden, I sit | for a moment beneath a peach tree and : gaze dreamily through ihe clusters of pink blossoms to the deep blue of the sky. Ah! it's beautiful beyond words, this world of ours. Into the kitchen once more. Potatoes io be peeled and dinner put on. The bovs come in for their afternoon tea, which they wouldn't miss for worlds. Then the cream lorry, passes and drops ihe can at the gate. It is always mv job to wash the can before dad takes it to the cowshed. Just at dusk, after the cows have been put away, dinner is ready, fnto the house troop six hungry, noisy brothers, followed by dad. _ Dishes washed again, then into the sitting room to a lovelv big fire. We usually read, but sometimes we only talk; then the conversation wanes; one by one "good-nights" are said and silence reigns. As I gaze into the dving embers I wonder if it will he always like this; happy, quiet days and simple pleasures. Days that, are not marred bv tho boisterous doings of tlie world. _ As I make my way to bed. after blowing out the lamp, a morepork plaintively wishes me " good-night."