HEART OF GOLD.

Otago Witness, Issue 2967, 25 January 1911, Page 86

HEART OF GOLD.

By Rogue 11.

Let me take you axmg a quiet coun try road, far away from the noise and bustle of any city, right to a lonely deserted old house surrounded by bush—-New Zealand’s beautiful native bush. It was one time the home of a happy family, where children’s merry voices rang .and echoed and re-echoed through the bush. Now all is ruin and and even the birds and rabbits have become so accustomed to the quietness of this lonely place that a newcomer’s appearance startles them. The house itself is a six-roomed cottage, with four rooms on theground floor and two upstairs. At one time it must have been a pretty place, for flowers ran wild there that once were cared for, and shrubs and bushes of all description are there, uncared for and untrimmed, while away to the right are a few trees to be seen nodding gently in the breeze. You feel as though you fire trending on sacred ground, a-a, indeed, you ia.re for there under those trees, protected by T rough wooden railing, is a little g,« >ve, covered with golden

daffodils. It is about this little grave that nay story is written. Many years ago p. young couple camo to live there, with their two little children—a little golden-haired, blue-eyed girl of three, and a strong, sturdy boy of about five summers. At first the children were afraid to go near the bush, and used to stand and admire from a- distance the beautiful green trees and ferns. Gradually, as they became more accustomed to it„ they used to take little walks daily in the bu3h, and bring homo treasures of all descriptions for mother. One clay they asked their mother to come with themi, but as she could not go, they started out alone seeking for ferns. The tcnderest, they knew, grew in the shade right under other scrub and trees, and after gathering as many as they wanted they started for home, but somehow they had lost the track, and instead of nearing home they were' gradually getting further away all the time. Night was drawing i,n, and the wind was whistling cold and shrill through the trees. The little girl w<as crying piteou-sly; she was so afraid of the dark. So the boy sat down under a large pine and tried to comfort his little sister. The wind in the meantime had risen to a gale, and great tall trees weire bending their strong limbs before it. Far off in the heart of this giant bush a thundering crash could bo heard as a great monarch of the forest would be snapped, and fall crashing to the ground. The little children, sat there not knowing what to do, when presently the little boy, who sat with his back to the pine, felt it shiver, and, 'looking ifp, could just distinguish the top bending down upon them. Then all of a sudden came a crackling noise so very near to them that they sprang up in alarm., and only then they realised their danger. The boy pushed his sister from, him with such force that she fell and l rolled over a little bank, only in time, too,- for the great tree came down en this brave little lad before he could save himself, pinning him to the ground. His sister crept back to him, and with one arm round her, there they sat all night, he through all the pain he was suffering speaking encouraging words to the little girl. There in the morning he was found, with his arm gently supporting her sleeping form. They cairried him gently home, where he lingered for many days, and in the end his brave little heart, ceased to beat. They buried him there rear his beloved bush, where no marble stone marks his last resting place; only a rough wooden railing protects, it from all who may chance to walk over that sacred ground, not knowing that the remains of so br-ive a little lad lies buried there. His little sister planted those daffodils—his flowers- -on his grave; but soon afterwards they left the spot that held for them such sad memories. Now all is ruin; but go in the spring to that little grave, and you cannot pass by without stopping to glance at that bed of golden daffodils. Are the flowers more golden above the brave little heart of gold?