WINTRY DAYS AND BRAES.

Otago Witness, Issue 2677, 5 July 1905, Page 79

WINTRY DAYS AND BRAES.

By JorcK Joceltx.

We knew it. not only by the shortening cLiy and the bright ■« elcome of the hearth, but by the chill splash in the morning, tbo tingling of the toes and fingers; we know that wo have said good-bye to summer and its soft Indian si&ter; the twirling leaves proclaim it, and thiough the poplar's gold, large dark spaces are more visible each day. Yes, tun© is flying, and with it summer joys. Dawn comes more soberly, very tenderly indeed, but veiled in mist and shorn of splendour. Full day comes shyly; but when the sun is up, beating on the verandahs and flashing in at doors and windows, who cares? Who that is healthy or youthful, a.t 25 or 50 bul longs to "take the road and &cent tin 1 sweetness in ihe crispened air and see, if hi be early enough, "how Time hath turned his restless wheel about and made heaven's bright eye gallop the Zodiac and end the year.'' Good George Poele met his winter in December, while to us it comes m the merry month, the month of giowth an.l increase, the '"three-milked month" when cows yielded their milk three thn<es a day. Fair I\laia, mother of Herm-es, and the hawthorn bloom in northern scenes and undernorthem side?; but here in Xew Zealand the first cold month, bringing to us not infrequently an occasional snow shower, iced water, and many a disagreeable accompaniment; but, again, who cares? .... It is an ill Mind and too much drift that brings no good There is at least no enervation in the smart sting or soft salute which they greet us, and there, is a great joy in the going forth —in the sight, in the soundless magic of the great white garment. North Xew Zealandiers may well envy the dwellers in Dunedin in the tim<? of snow, and still more those who in upcountry districts behold it in primeval beauty; who can revel in the purity without the thaw, the mystery -without the mud; who 'can see it lie until the ico gathers, and grows hard enough to ca.rry on its safe whits breast a merry-making crowd. Oh, yes, dear far-away ones, your friend remembers, and might envy, were it not foi the real comforts and the very sensible advantages of winter in the city ; indeed, she often feels inclined to sing: Wintei', I love thee; for thou com'st to me Laden with joys congenial to my mind — Books that with bards and solitudes agree, - But though the zephyrs of the summer-tide And all the softer beauties of the year Are fled and gone, kind, heaven has :.ot denied Our books and studies, music, conversation, And evening parties for our recreation. These sunple linos, extracted from an old ''Table Book," make no mention of the winter walk, with its keen, exhilarating air; the beauty of the landscape, severely chastened, it i* true, but showing so purely the blueness of the sky; and even less of perfect beauty has its charm —that of the "grey day," for instance. Those dismantled trees; that hill, its ruggedness all softened in the faint blue &moke from yonder homestead, recalls the "twilight" elegy, and on such a day I love to wander until the "world is left to darkness and to me,"' then wend my way rejoicing in prospect of homely fare and cheerful firelight. Homely scenes for homely poets, and for sucTi speaks Southey: Though no more the musing ear Delights to listen to the breeze That lingers o'er the greenwood shade, I love thee, winter, well. Sweet are the harmonies of spring, fiweet is the summer's evening gale. Pleasant the autumnal winds that shak'j The many coloured grove; And pleasant to the sober soul The silence of the wintry srene, When Nature shiouds her in her trance In deep tranquillity. Are we quite forgetting in this bright rehearsal the sterner days and steep wintxy braes that somewhere and at some time await the traveller? Oh, no, we hay* only been taking a pleasant road, in which we may dare lemind him of them. Let "a felout heart to a steep brae " be hi& motto, and he shall rise into possession of a better, noMcr view of things and men. He will have been, lie. will have seen, and if hd has conquered, straightway he will want to lend a hand to weaker toilers. The hills of difficulty are as various as the climbers, and we hurry past the mountain of ignorance and prejudice with its descending mists, dwell but for the moment on the healthy barrens which only stimulate the toiler, or on that upland way for ever beckoning the student whoss dear delight lies in still unknown ranges, whose gaze is fixed upon the summit and beyondBe assured by one whose earnest sympathy is with all such, whether you be in training for the post of teacher in a district school or for that full golden orb, an Empire scholarship, that she does not speak to such as you. Fair hope and lovely youth are yours, and your mount is easily accomplished. To such the "brae" is never stony, though now and then perhaps a little steep; but to thos-e who climb weighted with care and impeded by the years, climbing is a difficult matter. Their way may be straightforward in itself, but the effort to press on is costly, with sacrifice of precious leisure, love, perhaps, and sometimes life itself. Oh; all such truehearted, conscientious ones, of whom the world takes little heed, stand still a moment for pause and poise, your glance still upward, your trusty staff in hand. The prey is not always to the mighty nor the battle to the strong. There- are good things in store, cheerful days and restful nights, if life be lengthened; if not, instead of night, an all-pervading glorious light into which every puzzle of the way has all the time been leading. '"True enough," you say, "but at the same time it seems hard tliat the obstacles we meet should often be unnecessary ones, thrust, as it seeing in our path, not coming in the natural course." Yes. we, too, have met them; perhaps a stick like that which fell into the streamlet in the Persian stoi-y has checked the current that refreshed your Jar&e, and for a timejour^atb is barej, frut

press on patiently, in God's good providence it shall be removed. Needs greater than our own may move it of your own A-olition, and you &hall come into even more than you supposed your kingdom. Who can tell? It is even, possible that some traveller possessed of holy patience and self-denying love may meet you on the sterile biae, and there, like the pious brothers of whom Lamartine tells so sweetly, "build 'here a house to G-od."