A DAY IN THE WAIRARAPA.
By A Lady Visitor. Having been brought up in a rigid school of morality, where racing and all that appertained thereto were looked upon as machinations of the evil one, I determined last week to leave Wellington for a few days and seek seclusion in the country, where I would be fur away from the hateful company of those sharp featured, slang-speaking habitues of the racecourse, who generally crowd the Empire City at this season. As I had never been in the Wairarapa before, I selected Masterton as a place suitable to my tastes, where I could enjoy that study of nature so congenial to the inclinations of a person who loves to muse on things beyond the pale of this transitory world of ours. I accordingly took the early train one day last week, and was pleased to find that travellers northward were few, the tide of humanity having set in the contrary direction. At the summit w'e met the Wairarapa train fully laden with every car packed to its utmost holding capacity. Just in front of my window sat a venerable Maori dame on the platform of a second-class car. She was contentedly smoking a short clay pipe. I have always taken a great interest in the native race, in their moral and physical regeneration, and with this object in view I entered into conversation with her, and pointed out how unbecoming it was for her to indulge in such a noxious habit as smoking, and as a clincher to my advice handed her the latest pamphlet issued by the Anti-Tobacco League on the deteriorating effects of tobacco smoking on the human system. She took the proferred brochure with a grunt, and before I could get in any more of my arguments against this pernicious practice, she asked me what was my cup favourite. I replied that I preferred Suratura to any other brand. “ Don’t know him," said she abruptly, “ I like Stepfeldt best ." I was unable to reply to this as I had never heard of this line of tea before, and was in doubt whether it was Chinese or Indian. Before I could follow up the advantage of my previous remarks with regard to indulgence in tobacco smoking the train moved off, and I forgot all about the Maori race and the baneful effects of
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Bibliographic details
New Zealand Mail, Issue 1249, 6 February 1896, Page 15
Word Count
394A DAY IN THE WAIRARAPA. New Zealand Mail, Issue 1249, 6 February 1896, Page 15
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