D.L.F. Old Writers’ Week.

Otago Witness, Issue 3215, 27 October 1915, Page 75

D.L.F. Old Writers’ Week.

OLD WRITERS’ WEEK.

Another year has elapsed since the last meeting* of Old Writers-—a year of unprecedented events in the history of our times. New Zealand has earned for herself a place in history, thanks to the valour, dash, and initiative of her brave forces. Many of our old friends have joined the colours—a number are wounded, while others are missing, and whose fate is uncertain. Those who still remain have answered the invitation to contribute to O.W.W. most generously, and the total number of letters sent in reaches 33, while, of course, there may still be a few late comers. A number of our friends are absent, but owing to the demands on my time I was unable to circularise the more distant ones, and had to rely simply on the announcement in the Witness. , . .. I thank one and all for their evident interest in the D.L.P. page, and their expressions of encouragement and. kindiiess. To those brave boys far away on Gallipoli Peninsula I send, in conjunction with the many kind thoughts expressed in the letters, my sincerest wishes for an abundance of good luck and a safe return. , I extend my deepest sympathy to ail those who have lost a dear one, and trust they may become resigned to their loss. Once more I thank each and every one for their support, and I feel confident all will enjoy this year’s gathering of old friends. In conclusion I append a list of the A.JJ.I. of contributors in the order in which, their letters were received: Welsh Boy. Lady Leat. The Helmsman. La Belle. Dutch Girl. Hawthorn Bell. Possum. Ophir. The Little Minister. Bryon Afon. Another Soldier's Lass. Ned Devine. Gilbertha. Wilful Lassie. Inquisitive Poll. Eleonora. Mistress Jean. Sylvan Lassie. Viola Cornuta. Montezuma. Sweet Innocence. Kate Carnegie. Happy Queen Bess. Love Lies Bleeding. Lady Battersea. Mingary. Biddy Maloney. West Coaster. Grand Rapid. Blue Violet. Elmo Athol. Longwood Blossom. Curtis Melvin, OLD WRITERS’ LETTERS. Dear Dot,—l thought you would not mind me writing to you to let you know that lam still'in the land of the living. _ I left the dear old shore with the Fifth Reinforcements, and on the run across from Wellington to Albany we experienced rough weather. It was the first long sea voyage most of us had even taken, and I can tell 3-ou the rough weather did not improve matters. We arrived at Albany on the morning of the 26th of June, taking days to come across. Wo had a three daj-s’ stay at Albany, and I quite enjoyed myself. The people of Albany were very kind to us. We set sail from Albany at 7 a.in. on the 29th of June, and lost sight of the Australian coast the following morning. We had quite a lovely time on the run from Albany to Suez. We had concerts every night, and they _ were all successful. We also had two or three sports meetings. We did not have any Father Neptune sports when we crossed the line, because it was not allowed on our ship. When crossing the lino our trouble -started, and we dropx>ed 17 horses overboard from that point until we arrived at Suez, which we did on July 21. We went alongside the landing the next morning, and, after landing all the horses and entraining them, we left the ship at Q p.m., and also entrained, leaving Suez at 3 p.m. We quite enjoyed the train journey across the desert, although the sun was very hot. We stopped at a few stations on railway up, and we were very much amused at the natives, who were trying to sell us some watermelons. When they would see a native policeman coming they would dive through under the train to the other side, and with, about 30 natives and one policeman I can tell 3 T on wo had a good time. Wc arrived at a place called Zagazig (about midway between Suez and Cairo) at '7.30 p.m.. We stayed about 15 minutes, -so we had time lo have a look round. After leaving Zagazig we could not see an3 T thing, because it was dark, and the train went too. fast. The trains over here go much faster than in New Zealand, and it is quite a change. Wc arrived at Zoitoun at 10 p.m., and marched out to camp, all more or less tired.’ We just got into any tent we could find, and went to sleep just as we came in. The next morning we spent most of our time getting things shipshape, and in the afternoon we all had leave into Cairo. I had a good run round, and. Dot, they have some lovely buildings and streets. Of course, Cairo is much larger than any town in New Zealand. I often go to Cairo, and go to different parts of the town each time. , I have also been to Heliopolis, which is a verjuice place, but not very large. The town is only seven years’ old; the old Heliopolis was destroyed thousands of years ago. I have also been out to see the Pyramids and tl i Sphinx. The Pyramids are wonderful constructions. I did not climb them, but I went inside. "We did not see much because it was so dark, and all the guide had was a small piece of candle, which went out every two or three minutes. On coming out we went down to have a look at the Sphinx. The Sphinx is said to ho a portrait of King Kephoen, who built the Second Pyramid, and the king’s head is put on to a lion’sbody. The face of the Sphinx has been destroyed by the Arabs; but some of the paint can still be seen. Last Sunday a party of us went to see the Zoological Gardens. It Is a lovely place; but to go through ft properly would take about five days. They are supposed to be the second largest in the world, so you can see, Dot, it is no small place. After spending tho afternoon in tho gardens, wo caught a, sarry and drove back to Cairo, _ arriving there about 7 p.m., and after having some tea we went to hear the band in the park. Over here we do not have to go inside to have our drinks or meals. All you have to do is to go along the street until you come to an hotel or tea room, where yon sit at a small table outside on the sidewalk, and order whatever you want. I could not get used to the idea when I first came here, but now I am as good as the best of them. Wo do not have to jtay to go and see tho pictures (which arc all in (the open air); all wo do is just walk into the enclosure and take no notice of anyone, and stay until they are finished —ff you like, and I think. Dot, we always like. Well, Dot, camping in Egypt is lovely, and I would like to eCay hero; but in my right senses I would rather be over in the. Dardanelles, helping tho boys and doing my little bit. I don’t know how long- I will bo hero, so you may say that v-a je.ro livimf in a

balance. I saw a Witness the other day, dated June 24, and, looking through the page, I saw a letter from Tyne Lass. I am pleased to hear that you received my pboto. 1 also sending you a few cards by the next mail. Hurry up and write to me. I have received about 10 letters since I came here and not one from you. Well, Dot, you will bo thinking that I am not going to stop this nonsense, so I will close now. Lore o y Lass, Shining Sunbeam, Estelle, A Country Maid, Scotch Lass, and all the U.L.Ji., not forgetting yourself. —Yours truly, WELSH BOY (Egypt). 2/1718. —Gunner A. L. Hughes, Ammunition Column, Ho. 6 Howitzer Battery, N.Z.h .A., care of G.P.0., Wellington. . [Your letter arrived just in time for Old Writers’ Week, Welsh Boy, and I am euro everyone will be delighted to read it and learn that you are enjoying life in Egypt. I am sure I am only voicing the sentiments of all both past and present writers in wishing’ you the best of luck and a safe return. It is an honour to be able to include a letter from that distant zone among our numbers this year.—DOT.] Dear Dot,—l have no idea what arrangements have been made for O.W.W. this year, as I haven’t seen a Witness since last October; but I don’t want to be right out of it altogether if I can help it, so I shall send a few lines along. I only wish I was writing' it from “ somewhere in Turkey,” _ but fate and a permanent injury to my wrist caused by an accident in early childhood blocked me from turning “ from blue to khaki.” It’s rough luck for me. To be sure, I have a wife to look after now, as I got married on the 4lh of January last, and I have a comfortable little home of my own; but I would leave it all to-morrow to answer that “ Goose 1 W© want you!” that comes ringing from the shot-torn trenches on Gaba Tepe. The N.S.W.R, Department offers every consideration to us if wc enlist, the difference in our pay being made up, and our positions held for us if we return. A good many of my mates have already fallen; but -what better death can a man wish for! I never see the New Zealand casualty lists, as'the Sydney papers publish only the bare numbers cabled over from Wellington; but I know that there’s many a staunch, big-hearted mate whom I have toiled, and fought, and drunk with in ray wanderings and in the long happy days with the scream of the stripper-drum making music to the accompaniment of the swish of the wet, silky hanks of fibre, who now lies under a few sods of blood-stained soil. Excuse my rumblings, please. Dot, for you will understand that it’s hard for one of the roving blood to stay here in peace and see others leaving daily to where a man can prove his worth. I cannot fathom the feelings of those, shirkers who are not debarred in any way from enlisting, but who still sit at home, or more often, rather, hang round street corners. If I had my way, conscription would bo in force . to-morrow. .1 have no news to tell you, Dot, for, with the. exception of getting married, my life has gone along on the same old lines. I wrote last year from Molong, a- small town about 55 miles from here, and where I met and finally married the little Australian girl who is now mj- wife. I shifted from there into the bush again to build up what would be “ really and truly ” a little- home , free from the landlord; but as it was too far away from a. doctor to suit my pocket, I applied for a vacancy here in Parkes and got transferred about three months ago. This was a busy place in the “ roaring days,” the ground for miles around being still pitted with abandoned shafts, while here and there the poppet heads and batteries still stand, ghostly memorials of the golden loot taken from below. It is quiet now, but is a big railway junction, and will be much bigger in a few years, as, branching from here, is a line completed to Nnrroraine, on the Main Western; another duo soon to connect with the Southern at Stockinbingal; another linking up the mines at Tottenham; and, more important than any, is the commencement of the Broken Hill line from Condoboliu, to which a branch line runs from hero. All these, of course, join here with the main line to Sydney. Everything points this year to a bumper harvest; and wo can do with it, for, with bread at XOd per 4lb loaf and decent meat Is per lb, and everything else in proportion, life has degenerated into a mere existence, and many items that were looked on as almost necessities before are now luxuries to be dreamed of. But it is time I stopped, Dot. Hearty good wishes to all, and kindest regards to Shasta, Lucenda, Marnys, and Lavengro,, and also to yourself.—Yours truly, THE HELMSMAN (Parkes, N.S.W.). [How glad I am you thought of writing, The Helmsman. On scanning the letters I noticed several mentioned the hopes the writers entertained that you would bo present. When one is so eager to bo up and doing, it naturally seems hard to be denied the privilege; but there is a nan’s work to bo done at home, too, and we have the right man in you. Congratulations on your marriage, and with all my heart I wish you and your wife a. long life of happiness and prosperity.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —It is with pleasure that I pen these two words. Although it is nearly two years -since I have written to the page. I have never lost my interest in it, and have been looking forward to O.W.W. I notice there are a lot of new L.F., especially from Galloway. I know a lot of people Tin there, as I once lived there. We are having- glorious weather here at present; but would gladly welcome rain. I really think it is needed everywhere. Isn’t this war terrible! A good number of my old schoolmates have been wounded, killed, or missing; but all are fighting for a good cause, and the right will always come out first. I really think all the young men should volunteer to go; there are such a lot still about, shirking duty. They must, feel that the Empire needs them. But I will be glad when it, is all over, and peace reigns once again. I have a cousin going away with the next batch.. It will not be long now until Christmas is here again Tin’s year seems to have gone very quickly. I am expecting my sister (Sea Breeze) this week; but I am not quite sure if she will come. I like reading the D.L.F. letters from our comrades at the front. It is- nice to think they still remember the page even when they have so little, time. Now I wonder where A Motherless Lass and Doreen’s Mato have gone to? I have not seen letters from them for a long time. I think I know who Kitty (Palmerston) is. I wont to .school with her. I have .a good lot of spring flowers out now, and a lot of seeds in. Well, I think I will draw liiis letter to a close until O.W.W. comes round again. I hope to see a good many letters from the old D.L.P. this lime, and trust the page will prosper in. years to come. Best love and wishing all The L.F., not forgetting your-

self, a merry Christmas and a happy New Year, —Yours truly, DUTCH GIRL (Kakapuaka). [Events have moved rapidly in the last 12 months, Dutch Girl, and there are many whose company, under ordinary circumstances, wo hoped to enjoy for years to come, who have joined the great invisible army; but such is the fortune of war, I suppose. Many thanks for your letter and good wishes, which will help to alleviate the cares and worries of one’s daily round.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —I have just popped in to say “ Hope you have a happy reunion.” I’m not going to say much, for it would take me a long time to say all that is in my heart, and maybe it would not prove interesting to you. Since last reunion much has happened. Many of our comrades are away serving their King' and country and fighting for freedom. God bless them, and bring them safely home again. Elbon is keeping well, and eager to be in the fighting line; but as his work is to guard the provisions he is doomed to disappointment. Still, his position is just as important as the boys_ in the fighting line. Lex has gained one stripe, and is now lance-corporal. Both he and Elbon write bright, chatty letters, and often ask after the L.E. Timaru is a bonny little place, and the first thing that struck me forcibly was the number of ladies who ride motor cycles and drive motor cars. My work is fascinating to me, and I do so love it. Dancing is just about over, and I was at one wind-up last week. To-day I tried to ride a bicycle; but, oh! dear me, the tumbles I had. E-oally, comrades, I don’t know whether I’m all here or whether parts of me are lying in the paddock where I was trying to get on the bicycle. Never mind; the pleasure will be all the sweeter because of what’s gone before. Bright, sunny days with long moonlight nights are our lot just now. The clerk of the weather has exercised his arms occasionally; but I think he must be very happy, as he never cries, but does a lot of smiling. Occasionally he gets into a black rage, but ere it overflows he smiles again, and so the farmers are calling down anything but blessings on his head. Well, comrades, I often think of you, although I am so silent. My evenings are mostly spent at home at my machine. Sewing is fascinating, and it is just splendid to know that you can do a kindly deed for another. Mountain Lily, Gramophone, and Ned Devine may' be with you. I sincerely hope so. Here’s long life and happiness to you all; a very happy reunion, success to the dear old page, and loyalty to Queen Dot and the editor; also success to our dear ones both on land and sea. Till we meet again,— Yours truly, POSSUM. [Timaru seems to have worked wonders with you. Possum. Judging by your letter, you are your bright, cheery self again. I have not forgotten your last letter; but have been so busy. I know you will understand why it has not had a note in reply.—DOT.] Dear Dot and Comrades, —Here am I, and I hope lam not too late for the 0.W.W.. I was wondering if old comrades think I havegone below never to rise again. Heather Lassie, if you come here you will find that I am very much alive. I hope this pen won’t have to box your pen into the inkpot and send you to the post office for a postage stamp. Nevertheless it is getting on to summer, Heather Lassie! A lovely walk amongst bid-a-bids on the W—— Hills in search of me! Do I forget that afternoon and evening? Not much! Longwcod Blossom, I hope you do not take such a bother to find me. Well, my comrades, for a bit of news. First, I am a very bad writer; secondly, there is no news to write about. Well, let me think. Last time I wrote I was in windy, dirty Wellington; now I am in the South Island again. Anybody in search of a doctor's bill come to Blenheim. The climate is one of the finest in New Zealand; but it is the want of proper drainage that, spoils the atmosphere. Blenheim is slow, and the biggest half cannot see beyond its nose. (Ahem! enough, gentle comrades.) Well, I have been here for several months, but can’t give o, proper description of Marlborough this time. We have a fairly decent river service. Three small steamers ply between Wellington and Blenheim. If you want to take a night journey to the capital city on a holiday, the saloon fare is only £l, so we don’t fare too badly in this quarter. Well, I have been to Iliwaka to see the hopfields. I wonder if many of our comrades have seen the fields of hop vines. Well, I will let them have the honour of giving us a description of them. The spring flowers are in their last stages. The flowers are better blooms than last year, as the season isn’t so dry. Well, Dot, I started this some days ago, and now I must stop or else it will bo too late. Good wishes for the page, comrades, and club. —Yours truly, ■ THE LITTLE MINISTER (Blenheim). [You are a most elusive person, The Little Minister. You buoyed me up with hope one minute, and I expected a long description from you, then the next you baffle me and leave me wondering what were your views on the matter. That is a real writer’s genius, I believe. But how do you expect me to contain my curiosity for 13 months? —DOT.] Dear Dot, —No doubt a number of Old. Old Writers, like myself, will find it harder this year than any in the past to become Dot’s Little Folk for a few hours again, so much seems to have been crushed into the past 13 months. There is a seriousness in our lives now that never had a place there before. In receiving sympathy wo gain a- wider knowledge of how to extend the same, and try and brighten the' sorrow and aching hearts of our friends. How many there are! Unhappily, we are becoming accustomed to the long lists which appear in our daily and weekly papers; but though we know it spells a heartache to all, not for worlds would we have it otherwise. I have a dear friend who was expecting her eldest son home at the end of this month after an absence of a year. Ho had been wounded four different times, but was recovering nicely, when an unforeseen complaint set in, and last week’s cables announced his death. It is even harder when one’s hopes and thoughts are centred on a happy reunion. But-, alas! how many are disappointed! What numbers of our past and present band are out on active service! Could our first Dot be here to-day, how proud he would be of the- brave boys who wore once and always Dot’s Little Folk. To each of you Soldier Folk I wish you all that a heart can wish, to bring you through all the dangers you have to face, and a safe return to dear old Mao.viland I would like to name each one of you, but my excuse is, I have forgotten some of your pen-names and would not like to remember some and not others. But, dear Dot, I think there is so much war in out thoughts I will not linger much longer thereon. Mortal man can never explain the hard problem or unravel the mystery of just how this dreadful world-wide war began that was to bo (ho cause of so much suffering and sorrow. The first few mouths our hearts went out in sympathy to- the brave soldiers from the 11-omc- , land; but how soon it reached tho hearts . and homes of our peaceful land! A bond ■ exists throughout tho British nation to-day

that was never felt before, so we must look beyond the cloud. Though the silver lining at present seems a long way off, we are hopeful. Now to turn from the battlefields of Europe, in tho fond trust that England with her gallant army and navy, combined with these of our valiant Allies, shall carry us to a final victory and then tranquillity, tho following are a few lines from a poem someone wrote some months ago; From far New Zealand’s lovely isles, Her children come; They hear o’er intervening miles The nation’s call. Their hearts are firm, their arms are strong, They raise Britannia's battle son^; They join with Britain’s armed throng For liberty. Before closing, I hope to see some of tho old comrades present this week. Semibreve, The Lamplighter, Jessica, Doughnut, Roby, Darky, Shan, 8.0.8., and Harry—oh! where are you all? I also hope Montezuma will again think of this Old Writers’ Week, as he did last year. How a branch of crimson holly Or a bough of mistletoe, Bids the heart in fancy wandu Back to days of long ago. Happy times we’ve spent togetherJ Now, although we’re far apart, Kindly bells of memory echo Still your names within my heart. Then there are our little big folk on tho other -side—The Helmsman, Daisy, Primrose, and Boronia. And there are scores of others whose names I almost forget for the moment. Where are you, Italian (Queenstown)? Gone away to nurse our soldiers I do believe! I must close now or there will be no space left for the rest of Dot’s Little Old Folk. Loving wishes to you all.—Yours truly, ANOTHER SOLDIER’S LASS (Colac). [There are many sad hearts in New Zealand at present, Another Soldier’s Lass; but though we grieve for our fallen heroes, our grief must assuredly be tinged with thankfulness and pride at the knowledge that they died a man’s death—a glorious death. After all, death visits each one of us sooner or later—a fact which is often overlooked by us in the first fierce onslaught of grief.— DOT.] Dear Dot, —You see I haven’t forgotten that I promised I would write to the 0.W.W.; and here it is at last. I suppose there will be lots of our comrades absent from the gathering this year, and some of them who will never again pen a few lines to the never-to-be-forgotten page. The question f the day now is, When will this war end? Things are desperate at present. Our boys are enlisting day by day, and some of them are no sooner landed than they are off to the front, when a few days or weeks after wo see their names amongst the list of killed or wounded. I had three cousins at the war, two of whom have been wounded and the other one killed in action. There is no mistake but at present there are many sad hearts and homes. Well, dear Dot, I cannot tell you anything new, as I have been for no holidays or such like for a long time, and I am afraid if it hadn’t been for Peggy S. G. I would have refrained from sending in any remembrance at all, although I do firmly think that we should all remember O.W.W. this year, and write instead of -our absent D.L-.P. Peggy S. G. is up this way on account of her health. Her home is down south. She has been talking of writing to you this while back, and I think went so far as to start a letter last Sunday; but I think it’s like what seme of mine used to be—” not finished yet.” It is raining to-night—the first good rain we have had for many a day, and there is no need to say how much it is needed. Never was rain wanted so much before. Now, dear Dot, I will close, hoping that you will have a good gathering of Old Writers, i am looking forward to seeing thorn all again. Kindest regards to ail the writers, not forgetting yourself, and long may the D.L.F. page live.—Yours truly, GILBEETHA (Morrisons). [I a very glad Peggy S. G. kept you to your promise, Gilbertha. It is most helpful and encouraging to know that cur work is remembered, and as we cannot all do big things and travel, a kindly letter such as yours is just as welcome- as any other.—DOT.] Dear Dot and Comrades,—Once ag'ain I take the opportunity of penning a few lines to Old Writers’ Week. What changes have taken place this last year! A lot of our comrades have joined the many brave lads who have gone to the front to fight for us. Is not this a dreadful war! And it still seems as -serious as ever. After a long spell of dryness, when everybody was carting water and stock were dying, the weather has broken, and during the week we have had nice rains, which freshened up things and has given us abundance of water. Everybody around is spring-cleaning. We have not made a -start yet; but I am thinking about starting next week. I have nothing exciting to write about this year. I attended an ambulance class, and we held our examination about six weeks ago, and we all passed, or rather rhe majority. It was a very easy examination, but, of course, took a good deal of studying. Wo also had a Bible Class all tho winter; but now it is closed, and things are very quiet, as all the patriotic concerts and queen carnivals are over also. There is always plenty to. do at nights in the way of sewing and knitting for the soldiers, and those of us who can’t go away have to do our share at home. Our annual flower show is to be held in February, and there was a meeting hold to discuss the flowers, seeds, and plants to give the children. Well, Dot, I can find nothing interesting to write about this year. This is only a lino to be with you and old comrades once again. I will close, wishing one and all happiness and prosperity throughout the year. Loving remembrance to yourself and all comrades.—Yours truly, INQUISITIVE POLL (Mnheno). [The ambulance -classes you would find interesting. Inquisitive Poll, and the knowledge acquired is most useful and necessary, I think.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —These are two words which mean that when a person takes up a pen to write they can’t think of anything interesting to write about. That is my trouble just now; but, like many other D.L.F., I don’t want to miss this Old Writers’ Week. It doesn’t seem long ago when, in school days, I used to look forward to Dot’s encouraging little footnotes to letters. It would cheer you to know. Dot, how much pleasure those footnotes give to tho little tots when they see their letters in print. I hope to sc-o letters from some of the very Old Writers this year; also from Rollifer, Possum, Bonnie Bell, Mingary, Shasta, Luccda, Lavongro, and the old club members. Most of the D.L.F. boys will be away io tho war; but can yon tell mo what has become of Pterodactyl and The Helmsman, Dot ? I was disappointed that tho Dunedin Club fell through. It used to bo a treat to read tho weekly reports. The page itself seems to be keeping up, and it is nice that not only the very Lit tie Folk have an interest in it. I always like reading letters from tlio Australian D.L.F. With mo the year , haa gone very fast. In tho winter time I

went away for a holiday, partly to recover health, to a place near the coast. We live a long way from the sea, so to get on to the sandy beach every day was a treat. I used to like watching the restless ocean. The sea when rough made a striking picture, but I liked it best by moonlight. On some clear days Stewart Island looked very near. Some of tho bush plants that grow down there I had not seen before. A medium-sized white everlasting daisy grows there, which is as pretty as many a garden flower. The muttonbird tree, with its broad, dark green leaves, is a pretty plant. It seems to grow plentifully near the sea. There is a pretty little lake at Colac Bay, round which are some nice walks. Seeing so much manuka here, made me think of the manuka-clad hills of Dunedin. Spring has come again, and Mother Nature has quite a pleasing appearance just now. The birds are busy in the rata tree building their nests. Such pretty native flowers as the clematis and the lawyer are out in the bush, and little lambs are seen in tho paddocks with their mothers. Tho farmers’ trouble, the gorse, must not be left out, for the hedges look quite gay in their yellow coat. To look on such a scene one can hardly realise that so much misery and bloodshed are on the other side of the world. Hasn’t spring been called the season of hope? To many, even out here in New Zealand, this season will not be looked on as such. People who even last year looked forward to a merry Christmas will not care if it comes at all. May we hope things will look brighter this time next year. One D.L.F. (was it Dewdrop or Shining Sunbear? I forget which) suggested a plan of discussing literature in the page. I wish the plan every success. I saw recently a splendid description of “ The Sky Pilot.” It is sad to think of the .author being in Europe, and may not write any more books. So many clever men have sacrificed their lives in this dreadful war. “Queechy,” by Susan Warner, and “ Opening of a Chestnut Burr,” by E. P. Roe, are- two other nice American books. “ Little Mother Meg,” by Ethel Turner, gives a real, natural picture of happy Australian youth. James Grant is an author who would please both boys and girls. His books deal chiefly with' life and adventures with British regiments in India and Europe. His “ Romance of War ” would be of special interest just now. Allen Rain© takes one to Wales. The Welsh language seems to be as hard to understand as Gaelic. Nature-students would like “ Parables from. Nature,” by Mrs Gatty. Good books are eo plentiful that it seems strange that time is wasted over any other kind. Well, dear Dot, I have trespassed too long on your space already, so had better stop. Wishing you a merry Christmas and a happy New Year, — Yours truly, MISTRESS JEAN (South Wyndham). [I endeavour to give a little word all round to the L.F., Mistress Jean, as I think the children are of the opinion their letters are not read when there is no footnote, I well remember your fine letters, and quite regret you are an Old Writer, as you could give me such valuable assistance. There is no dearth of good books; but the tastes of some people fall so fai short of what one would desire. I thought to induce them to read the ones that are worth while with the assistance of some of my writers. Wordsworth’s lines com© to my mind —do you remember them? Dreams, books, are each ,a. world; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good; Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Onr pastime and our happiness will grow. —DOT.] Dear Dot, —It is with pleasure I again pen these two dear words. How much they mean, and yet how often they are so lightly spoken of. I meant to have written last year, but put it off till it was too late. The world is not so very big, yet we hero in our happy peaceful homes realise so little of that dark storm raging on the other side of the Equator. Yet sorrow is entering almost every home, and we see those who went away in their young, strong manhood return with limbs and health shattered, and many others will never return. Yet the sun still shines as brightly, and there stand the same grand old hills in ■ all their strength and majesty. The bush is now being crowned with the clematis and sweet bunches of lawyer. The hedges and fields look so lovely in their cool green freshness, and the lambs are frisking gaily about. I had a nice holiday at the beginning of March up seeing Hawthorn Bell and Honey Blossom, who are working in Queenstown. The lake was so smooth that as it was my first trip on water I thoroughly enjoyed it. Queenstown is built at the edge of_ the lake, and on all sides are to be seen high, bare, rocky mountains with a little tinge of green at their feet. I had from Saturday night till Wednesday morning to see the sights, and as the weather was glorious I mad© the most use of my time. On Sunday afternoon we walked to Erankton. Such a lovely walk —the road winding round the foot of the hill along the edge of the Jake. The ground was more fertile here, and young orchards were looking’ well. The Kawarau Ealls were our destination, and we were disappointed. 'Tli© place was so bare, except where trees were planted around the homesteads. The falls, or rather rapids, are tho outlet from the lake, and form a tributary of the Molyneux River, near the mouth of which I live. It was really lovely watching the foaming, seething waters rush headlong away down between steep rocky cliffs; but we were looking for something like the Niagara Falls, you see. On Monday morning we were up early and off by steamer up towards the Head of the Lake. We did not go to Glenorchy, where I notice some D.L.F. live, but landed about half way up at Elfin Bay. There is a pack-horse track between Elfin Bay and Lake Te Anau, but we followed the track for about two miles, and lunched at Lake Here, photographs of which I have seen in the Witness. Being rested, we again set off, and wended our way for about another two miles through the most beautiful valleys and forests I have over seen. The mountain birches rise from tiny beginners to towering giants; but there is no undergrowth, and very few ferns. The only birds we saw or heard were a- wren, a tomtit, and a. fautail; all insect-eating birds, for there were no berries except the bramble, which is growing wild and the mountain snpwberry. We passed some lovely waterfalls, the rocks being covered with moss, but no ferns. It all seemed so grand and strong, but so still away up there in the heart of the mountains. The day was all too short; hut as we came clown in the boat tho sim was set and the moon risen, reflecting her image in the shimmering water. One can fed it all; hut words fail to describe tho beauty of the full moon shining on lake, mountain, and occasionally on a waterfall. On Tuesday Hawthorn Bell and I hired a pony and phaeton and drove to Arrowtown. The roads were perfect, and in the fields the harvesters were busy. Arrowtown is a pretty littlo tow-nship right at the back of the Arrow Plain, and it seemed almost to be jammed up against a steep mountain. Soma of tho streets were steep; but wore nicely planted out with trees., except the main ■ street, which was very narrow. I wanted a drink for tho pony, but could find nothing but a barrel outside

a blacksmith’s shop. We then bethought ourselves it was time we were turning .homewards, and as the street was narrow and I unused to buggies, I decided to lead the ponyround. Handing the reins to Hawthorn Hell 1 proceeded to step out of the carriage, but my skirt caught, and losing my balance, and at the same lime my skirt gavo way, I landed full length on the road. It was a most undignified proceeding; but luckily no one was in sight. We were safely turned and just started on our way when some folk came round the corner. Hot till we were well out of hearing did -we trust ourselves to laugh, and Hawthorn Bell still has a fit when she thinks of the Arrowtown “smiddy.” I am afraid you will have been saying long ago what an editor once said to one of his youthful contributors,*" “Condense, young man, condense.’’ I have not much news, everything ordinary is much the same. “The daily round, the common task, that with the hours begin and end.” The days pass, then the weeks, and the months become a year almost before we realise that time is fleeting. Oiir home-nest is getting empty. Heather Lassie and Linnet are working in Dunedin, while the two Hawthorn Bells are in Queenstown. Ivy Diamond goes to the District High School, and is at home from Friday night till Monday morning. Our brother has nowleft school, and growing a giant. I hope there will he a good gathering of Old Writers this year. I will now bid adieu once more to you, dear Dot, and comrades, and remain as ever. —Yours truly, VIOLA CORNUTA (Port Molyneux). [I had the pleasure of meeting Linnet for a short time one afternoon—in fact, it was all too short to have a proxoer talk. You made the most oi the time at your disposal, and I am so pleased to know you enjoyed yourself so thoroughly, —DOT.] Dear Dot, —Another year has passed since I last penned these two dear familiar words, “Dear Dot.” To a great many of us it has been a very sad one. 'How few of ns ever thought that the war would be raging still. God grant that by Christmas we may have peace once more. My brother, Diamond Dick, is in the Military Hospital at Trentham with influenza. Alter the long spell of dry weather we have at last got the ram. VV © almost forget we ever had such dry weather as we sit and listen contentedly to the patter of the rain on the roof. I often think that all things that are deadlyvto mankind will pass and go if we only work and wait, -thus the war will go; thus the hot wind of war will cease blowing; all in good season till the soft rain of peace falls on the stricken nation, and men turn again to tne helpful doings of untroubled years. Over the very battlefields the grass will spring again. Ihe farmers will plough down the trenches, ruined towns will be rebuilt; and smitten nations will be restored. The hum of the arsenals will cease, and the winning of the great war will be a story told to wondering children by evening fires. The promise of the rain with the rainbow that tells of sunshine and blue sky, is not truer nor surer than the world’s peace, which is given when from the far ends of the earth men gather to defend the right and undo -The wrong. This war will only end one way, for the power that guides the universe is with its righteousness. Whatever is righteous that is at stake will triumph, and whatever is e\il will be laid low. And in years to come we will forget its sorrows as already we lorget the want of rain. For the rain ol peace will fall, and passion pass with its tailing. VVell > dear Dot, 1 will stop now. Love to all my acquaintances and the many friends I ha\e made through the D.L.F. page.—Yours truly, SWEET INNOCENCE (Eaurekau). FAs far as external conditions are concerned we here cannot realise the awful devastation that must prevail m the war zone everything is so peaceful. It is to those who have lost their dear ones that the truth Is driven home. —DOT.] Dear Dot and Comrades,—Here I am again just in time for 0.W.W., and I hope that all the Old Writers will put in an appearance to make up for the ones who are lighting for King and country. We are having most lovely weather, lately—one could not wish for better; something new to what we have been having of late years, tsn t it, Dot / Things have changed since last I wrote to the page. The war has been going 13 months, and such a lot of poor boys have fallen, among them quite a number that I know. I had a post-card from one, and by the time I received it he had died for his country, and we are proud and thankful to them, and we should do all in onr power to help to comfort them. I correspond with such a lot that it keeps me writing week in and week out; but Ido not mind at all. I have had a number of letters from one of our comrades (Baden Powell), and lie was quite well. He has been there from the start I also met some that had just been invalided home, and they are all very thin and sad looking; and I don’t wonder, do you? Well, Dot, I have a longing to go as a nurse, but they will only take experienced ones, and I am not that, worse luck. Since last writing I was m town for two months at the dressmaking, and I liked it very much, only I did not get along well enough for my fancy. The Qu-'en Carnival was in full swing, and they were collecting a lot of money for our wounded soldiers. We had a euchre party and dance on the Bth for the Country Queen, and we collected quite a lot for her there will be a big week in town next week to see what queen goes in, though it doesn t matter much who wins as long as they collect plenty for our wounded heroes. Well, I Dnnk I will close, as you will not want the letters to be too long seeing the war news takes up so much space. I hop© you have a good muster of Old Writers this time. Love and best wishes to all the present and past L. 1., and not forgetting your own dear sell.—lours Ulli "' HAPPY QUEEN BESS (Glenrose). [I am afraid there will be very few of the Main Body returning to our quiet shores. Judging from what I have been told the nursing is extremely arduous work. DOT.] Dear Dot,—Once again I write a short letter for Old Writers’ Week to let you know I still take an interest in the page. Great changes have taken place since I penned my last letter to you. An awful war is raging over different parts of the world, even affecting our peaceful Dominion. Such a number of brave soldiers of tho Maoriland have fallen, including several well-known writers of our band. My cousin. Dandy Jim, was killed in action on August 7. He was only 19 years of age, and his photograph was in the Witness on September 29. Welsh Boy has arrived at his destination. I received a post-card from him when he arrived in Egypt. He had enjoyed the trip over, and was intending to visit tho Pyramids at the time of writing. What great sights they will see before they return, if they are spared to come back. It is cruel to sacrifice so many lives. The casualties seem to be getting larger. Several soldiers have returned to their homes about this district, some have been wounded, others 100 ill to stay at Egypt. Such a large amount of money has been raised in different parts by all kinds of amusements. The Queen Carnival caused great excitement. Tho Countrv Queen seems to be winning. I think 1 will change tho subject, as you will be having enough of tho war without me mentioning it. The weather for some time

has been- lovely, but this last lew clays wo are getting rain which is needed. The flowers are looking nice, especially the primroses and daffodils. How are you. Duchess of Sutherland ? Are you still in town ? I have been looking lor a letter from you this long time. 1 suppose you know Hush Koamer was married some months ago. I have not seen her lor years. 1 hope to see letters from Gwen, • Augahara, Hiddy Maloney, Inky Fingers, Happy Queen Hess, and many more old friends. Many changes have taken place since last year. Some of the well-known writers have left Few Zealand, others have passed to the Better Land, There was a sad accident on the express to-day. A soldier just going to Trentham was killed at Pukerau. It seems sad to think he was killed just after joining. Well, dear Dot, I will bring my letter to a close to allow more room for other letters. With all best wishes for a record gathering of Old Writers. With love to all my correspondents, not forgetting yourself.—Yours truly, LAuY BATTERSEA (Waikaka). [I am sure we ail tender you our sincerest sympathy in this your time of trouble, Lady Battersea. The war is demanding great sacrifices not only from those who are going away to do battle, but also the many lonely hearts left behind. It is a time of great strain and anxiety.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —Time does slip by! Old Writers’ Week has once again come round. It does not seem, long since I was writing my last O.W. letter. I was telling you in my last letter that our grandparents were coming up for their golden wedding. Weil, they came up, and we had a lovely time. There were also our uncle, aunt, and two cousins up. I was also telling you about the presents in the last letter, and a friend of grandmother’s saw the letter, and, knowing it was my N.D.P., they, of course, showed the letter to grandmother. Bo when my brother went down to grandmother’s for a holiday, just before they came up for their golden wedding, they told him about the letter of mine. When they came up our grandfather did tease us, and said that is how your little secrets come out. I never once thought of them seeing the letter; but never mind, I will know what to do another time. My brother has just gone to Trentham. He enlisted over four months ago, and has just got away. He is going as a non-commissioned officer, so he will have a chance of working himself up. I know we will miss him very much, but it is nice to see them willing and ready to go and light for their King and country. It is awful to think of us having over a year of this war. To think of the millions that have been killed. I know quite a lot from here who have been either killed or wounded. We have also had a few returned, who have been wounded. I have been at my place over a year now, and I like it very much. They are all so nice to me. I am going for my holiday in about a fortnight’s time. I am then going up to Picton, so hope to have a lovely time. 1 love to be near the sea. In fact, I would like always to live near the seaside. Timaru is the placethat I always fancy. My mistress and family went to Sumner last January, and stopped the month. They also took me with them. We had a house quite close to the sea, and we used to go in for a splash nearly every morning. It was the first time that I had been at Sumner. My mistress also got me to get mother to go and stop a week with us, which I thought was very good of them. While w© were there they had their Gaia Day. They had a nice day for it, and quite a crowd came along. Mother is shiHing down near Balclutha alter the Few Pear. I will be quite lost for a while when they go, as I am not going down with them; but. it is nice to have a home to go to. However, I will not be so badly off as soma may be, as I will have my married sister only about a mile and a-half away. Well, Dot, I must now close. With kind regards to all the L.F., not forgetting yourself.— Yours truly, . , , nikilY MALONEY (Ashburton). [lt certainly was most thoughtful of your mistress, Biddy, and it is just such thoughtfulness and kindness that one appreciates.— DOT.] Dear Dot, —Once more I pen these two dear words. It is seven years since I last wrote to the dear old page, so I thought I would send in a short note. I always take a keen interest in the page, although 1 do not writ© often. The page is full of new writers every week, and I have a sister writing to you. Since I last wrote many changes have taken place, some of our old comrades have gone to their last resting place, and some have married and gone housekeeping for themselves. I myself have been married for five years, and have two little girls and on© boy. My little girl, four years old, hag been in Southland Hospital for 10 weeks suffering with a burnt arm. I have had her at home five weeks now, and she is not properly better yet. My little boy was also in the same place for four weeks with a. bad. foot. All the children about here are ill with bad colds. We are getting- lovely weather, and the bush is looking lovely with its native flowers. Wo are having a very early spring, and all the farmers are busy gettin o- in their crops. Others are looking forward to the factory to start, as they are getting tired of butter-making. We do not milk for the factory. We live quite close to the ocean, and often take the little ones to the beach for a run, and they do enjoy it Wo will not have long to wait till Christmas. How the time does fly! Is not this war dreadful, Dot! I wish it was all over, as it is causing such a lot of bloodshed It is very sad to think of the thousands of dear lives that have been lost. Two yoini o ‘ men from our little settlement aio going into camp on the 11th of this month They have been in the place for the last 20 years, and are very well liked by all. They were both given a farewell social and a presentation of a case of pipes and a cheque. They are giving an evening on Friday to say good-bye to their friends. I have three cousins out of one home away. The nist to go was Somebody’s Sailor Boy, and i have had two letters from him since he landed. I wonder if Kitty Clove Rogue, and Ned Devine will remember Old inters Week. Well dear Dot, I think I have told all the news’ this time. As this is a very qiiiet place we get very little news. Ye get the mail here only twice weekly, and it is long looked for from Saturday till Wednesday. We have the telephone, and it is very handy. We are living about 50 miles from Invercargill, and we can go to town in a day from here. Well now it is tea time, so I must ring off and get the tea. I will close with kind regards to Dolly Dimple, Kitty Clover, lui, Darky Tommy, and yourself.—Yours truly, Darsy, ro RAPID (Slope Point). [You have had a time of anxiety and trouble through the illness of your little ones. Grand Rapid; but I sincerely trust they are now quite better. I trust Sai.or Boy conies through unscathed. —DOT.] Dear Dot and Comrades,—Once more_ I take this opportunity to keep in touch with the dear old page, through which I have made many friends and acquaintances. I have only had the privilege of seeing the Witness about three times this year, and it was quite by chance I heard that Old Writers were again given the opportunity to meet through the medium of the page. This year has Been much sorrow and sadness.

Many a brave soldier has gone to his last resting place in strange, far-off lands—among them some of our own comrades. Only three evenings ago I said good-bye to another member of our band, Diamond Dick, who was down from Trentham on leave to say farewell to his friends. It seems eo short a time since we played together at school. We wore in the same class, and I can remember —it must bo XI years ago now —our teacher persuaded her pupils to write to the D.L.F. page. How happy W'e were then with only our own small world around us, while to-day tho call of duty is strong upon us to help our Empire in her time of need. See the children busy with their knitting needles, as they make warm garments for our boys at the front, each doing their own particular share, and proud to be helping eo great a causel It is only since the war began that I managed to make a pair of socks without help—in fact, I knew very little about knitting ; but I have seen some lovely work that can be accomplished with a pair of knitting needles, and I hope soon to be able to make some of those many things myself. At present I am preparing for my examination, and it allows little time for anything else. Still, one thing at a time is the better way; and when I think of the good work the nurses are doing to-day it makes me anxious to succeed. The rain has again made the country look green and fresh. The lawn mowers had quite a rest during the spell of dry weather, but since the first rain fell they have been L«-it busy. The ground be km warm- has started growth very quickly. One striking feature is the beautiful white clematis hanging in great clusters in tho bush. If ray friends in Wallacetown chance to see this letter, you will see you are not forgotten, and will again hear from me before long. Circumstances may have made me appear rather indifferent, though such is not the case. Possum, I hope you will not forget O.W.W. Elbon appears to be making the best of his time in foreign lands. A safe and speedy return, comrade 1 Everton, I feel sure, would appreciate a few of the raindrops that are falling here in abundance at the present time. I picked up a book of Rudyard Kipling’s this evening, and came across these lines—rather appropriate to the times. They are. from a war song of long ago: It is not wealth nor rank nor state, But get up and git that makes men great. Dear Dot and comrades, it is not my intention to write a long letter this, time, and I hope that next O.W.W. we shall all meet again once more under happier circumstances. There is much I would like to say —so many things happen in 12 months, —but my duties await me. A word in closing: May we meet again in the club ere another year has gone. Best washes to one and all, and may we all strive to serve our Empire in this great crisis at home and abroad, and so help those who have sacrificed so much for us. Farewell.—Yours truly,. ELMO ATHOL (Dunedin). [I wish you success in your examination, Elmo Athol, and hope we shall hear of you coming out well on top.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —I was very glad when I saw O.W.W. announced, for 1 have been looking forward to it for so long. This is my first year as an Old Writer, and I did miss writing to the page from time to time when I no longer had that privilege. I do hope there is a good rally of the Old Writers, for each letter is so interesting; and then, too, one likes to know what has become of the comrades whose nom de plumes used to appear in the same columns as one’s own. How lovely it is to have a good spring ag;; j*. This is a record season for Southland as for as weather is concerned. Everything seems to be brimful of life and vitality. Just across from our door is a paddock full of sheep with their little lambs, and how pretty it is to watch the little white things playing and jumping around their mothers. Have you been to the bush yet this spring. Dot? I wonder if your pieces of Dunedin bush are as beautiful as ours here are. Just the other day some- of my girl chums and I had a walk round one of tire prettiest pieces of bush I have seen for a long while. There is such an abundance of bush flowers. Glancing across a piece- of bushland one could almost imagine there had been a shower of snow upon the trees. The kowhai has not yet made an appearance among the flowers, but I hope it soon will. The lawyers ar© specially pretty thi-s year—each bush is just covered with the loveliest bunches of ■ fragrant blossom, on some bushes pale pink, on other pure white. One need scarcely mention the clematis. Everyone knows how beautiful that is; and yet it, too, seems more beautiful than ever this yean:. It has not had the _ usual stormy rains to batter its snowy-white flowers. I always think the clematis is such an interesting vine. First, the young vine by itself is so weak and fragile that, without support from the friendly trees, it would scarcely make any progress at all. But once started on its twilling round a tree, how its -slender stalk grows up and up until it reaches daylight and sunshine on the leafy head of some large tree. Here it is free to spread out its own head of foliage, and by and by its blossoms also. I -suppose everyone lias noted the two species of clematis, which are found nearly always in vicinity of each other. The one I have .already mentioned is the large starry white (Clematis indivisa), having very little scent; tho other, the small fragrant yellowish-green kind. All New Zealand species of clematis are strictly dioecious—that is, tho pistillate (female) and the staminate (male) are borne upon separate vines. After the flower has withered the style grows, and acts as a means of distributing the seed through the agency of the wind. I wish you could have had the drive we had to-day, Dot. Such a fine, bright, sunshiny morning, and the distance we had to go was about nine miles. One had full leisure to enjoy Nature at its best. In some places the road was bordered on cither side by the bush, and gorse hedges ran nearly the whole distance. We passed over the Wyndbam River, and it looked so picturesque this morning. Large weeping willows dipped down to meet the rippling water, silver poplars glistened white in the sun, and the bush trees growing back from tho banks looked darkly sombre and majestic. What do you think of the war, Dot? Sometimes one feels quite depressed when on© thinks_ of the little progress towards peace that is being made, and with such loss of lives too. It seems dreadful to think of tho splendid lives which are being given. But oh! for what a glorious cause! And one feels very proud that even New Zealand can give tho Mother Country help when it is so much needed. Just now the districts here tiro at fever heat over the queen elections, and wo will know to-day which one has gained tho highest place. The Gian ham young women are- just now organising a club for the purpose of making articles for the hospital ship. The proceeds from last winter’s Hockey Club are to be used, to buy materials to work upon, and I think they are going to get up an entertainment . Glonham is making an effort to help in a small way. The last sum which was handed over to the Wounded Soldiers’ Fund amounted to .-603. I wonder how many of tho retired D.L.F. who are serving in tho forces will get to know of 0.W.W., and how many of them will able to send in a letter. Their letters

ought to be especially interesting. What has become of my correspondent. Loreen Errol? and what is. the cause for such a long silence? I wish she would write again. Now, dear Dot, I think I must say good-bye for another year. Fondest greetings to you and all the D.L.F., both present and past.— Yours trulv, CURTIS MELVIN (Glenham). [On the glorious, bright days we had a short time ago my thoughts and desires continually strayed to a little spot in the country, where it delighted me beyond measure to sit by the river with the willows growing majestically on both sides and admire Nature; but fate would have it I was (metaphorically speaking) inexorably chained to an office chair. However, I am living in hopes of future pleasure. I enjoyed your letter and descriptions very much.—DOT.] Dear Dot and Comrades, —As this is O.W.W. 1 think it is my duty to send in a few lines, as it is now 12 months since I last wrote. We have been having lovely weather hero for the last three months. _ It won’t be long now until- Christmas again; but I think it will be a very quiet Christmas owing to the war. I think this war is a dreadful thing. We have had such a lot of cousins killed. There are a number of D.L.F. away also. A very great friend of mine is missing. He was a D.L.F., and went under the name of Bobbie Dear, so I suppose you will remember him. The town has been very lively of late owing to the Queen Carnival being on. I think it finishes next week, and it will be pretty quiet after it is over. I was away for a month’s holiday a short time ago, and 1 did enjoy myself, as it was fine weather all the time I was away. It was a very pretty place where I was staying—hills as far as one could see, some covered with bush and some clear. I think it is lovely to go for a walk in the bush in the summer time. The country people don’t think it such a treat as we town folk, as they can go there more often than we can. 1 was out at Riverton Beach last Sunday. It was a lovely morning, but it came on to rain in the afternoon, so we loft early, and reached home in nice time. I enjoyed the drive, and we got such a lot of bush flowers. Well, dear Dot and comrades, as I have not much news this time, I must close. I hope you have good luck with the O.W.W. this year. Kindest regards to Dot and all my D.L.F. chums. —Yours truly, LADY LEAF (Invercargill). [lt is a great pleasure and relief to get away from town right into the country. One is able to adjust one’s thoughts again, and there -seems more leisure for thought.— DOT] Dear Dot, —Just a few lines to let you know that I’m still in the land of the living. Once more "spring is with us. Glorious spring, who does not welcome you back again! I do not see how any reasonable person can have objections to any one of the seasons of the year. I for one would be very sorry to miss the beauties of autumn and winter. They all in their turn give forth the best they have. There’s beauty all around us, If but our watchful eyes Can trace it midst familiar things, And through their lowly guise. The gems of spring hidden under the winter’s snows are revealed to- us now, and we rejoice in all the good gifts around us. To feel the breezes, and the sunshine and hear the hum of the bees and song of the birds on a spring morning is well worth living for. For as sweet as the murmur of the brook and the rustle of the corn, even eo is the still cairn of evening. There is not a leaf upon the bower, There is not a bird upon the tree; There is not a dewdrop upon the flower. But leaves the impress. Lord of Thee. Thy hand tire varied leaf designed, And gave the bird its thrilling tone. Thy power the dewdrops tint combined, Till like the diamond’s blaze they shone. Yes, dewdrops, leaves and buds and all, The smallest like the greatest things. The seas vast space, the earth’s wide hall, Alike proclaim Thee King of Kings. Have you ever been up to this district? Lake Wakatipu surrounded by the mountains is a sight well worth travelling to see. The mist sailing around the mountain-tops is a sight one does not see every day. But I think tlio coast is the place for sunrises, then when it fails in one respect it makes up for it in many other ways. Every one will be sorry to hear of the death of a D.L.F. comrade, Roudy Enough. She died at the age of 20 in the Kaitangata Hospital. I am sure all who knew her in any way will truly sympathise with her bereaved father and brother. Rowdy Enough was our nearest neighbour when we lived at Wangaloa, and although we did not attend the same school, still wo were on intimate terms with one another. From her we kindly got the L.F. pages to read, which proved a great source of delight to our young minds. After leaving the district our correspondence never failed, and now it seems so hard to believe that we will never see her here again. We can never know the whole of a friend’s biassing until she has died. I will not close. Wishing the page all prosperity and success. —Yours truly, HAWTHORN BELL (Queenstown). [I did not know we had lost a D.L.F. recently, Hawthorn Bell, and I wish to extend my sympathy with all the other Old Writers to her father and brother. They assuredly must miss her greatly.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —Spring is with us once again, and all the spring flowers are lifting up their pretty heads to cheer us on our way. The bush, too, is very beautiful Just now. I have never seen such a show of wild flowers as at the present time. The clematis is very pretty and looks so lovely and pure as it hangs from the trees. The lawyer is justcovered with bloom, and in the cool of the evening smells so sweet. Oh, Dot, I must tell you of a most charming sight that I saw some few weeks ago. It was -a great padclock of lovely yellow trumpet daffodils. They were just growing wild among' the grass; but to see them with their heads uplifted to the sun they looked at peace with everyone and themselves. How soon they fade away and die! I could have sat for hours among them. I remember reading somewhere that flowers were the sweetest things that God ever made and forgot to put a soul into. The kiss of the sun for pardon, Tho song of the birds for mirth; Wo are nearer God’s heart in a garden Than anywhere else on earth. Over a year has gone by and still ihe war is raging, with no sign of peace. Since last O.W.W. we have seen some changes, and there are some very sad homes to-day, with vacant chairs that will never again be filled. I truly sympathise with those who have lost dear ones through this war. I told you last O.W.W. I had a brother in the Main Body, ixo, poor boy, got wounded in May, and has had a very severe time of it. Once we had word to say that he was to bo invalided homo; hut ho was taken to London, and at present is in St. Thomas's Hospital. One bullet they got, but tho one that penetrated his lungs they cannot find, and he has been X-rayed three times. Wo do not know when he will bo home; but while he is in

England we know he is safe. The suspense wa/s awful waiting for word of him after he was wounded, as we did not know for a long time which hospital ho was in. I know several young men who have been killed or wounded and some who are missing. I think that is the hardest part—to hear they are missing, and not know whore they are. Well, dear Dot, you will be weary of reading of war, so I must write of something different. My eldest girl has just started school, and to her school seems a most wonderful thing. She has a long way to go, so has to take her lunch with her. I missed her for a few days, but have got used to it now. Wee Euby missed her very much, and used to cry for Jean. She used to come to me and say, “Where Jeanie go?” On the fine days she can go out in the grass and play; and doesn’t she love to pull the daisies that grow around. We have lost another of our real Old Writers in Cooee. I did not know she had been ill until 1 saw her death in the paper. I had not seen her for some time, as she had shifted away fiom these parts. She leaves three little boys behind, and I am sure we all sympathise with her husband and little ones in the loss of wife and mother. Well, dear Hot, I must bring this to a close, and make room for someone else. Accept my hearty wishes for a record gathering, and may we all meet under happier circumstances next Old Writers’ Week. Hoping to see letters from some of our real Old Writers is the wish of —Yours truly, LA BELLE (Colac). [The 1 ittlo ones assume vast importance when they commence school. I can understand your anxiety over your brother, and hope you may soon have good news of his recovery.—DOT.]