THE LADIES’ PAGE.

Otago Witness, Issue 3514, 19 July 1921, Page 47

THE LADIES’ PAGE.

By

“ Wherever a true Avnmari comes, heme is always around Ler."—-liiu-kin.

Esther will be pleased to receive letters from correspondents on any m itter of inter* st in them, and to reply through the medium of this pap'--, the nom de plume only of the correspondents tv) bo published. Letters to bo addressed “Esther, care of the Editor.

impression of tropical vegetation, and is for that reason very valuable in ornamental gardening. in tiie summer time the rata brightens up the bush with its dark red • flowers. The kowhai has a pretty flower, too. Just as beautiful as our native flowers is the foliage of cur trees, both being suitable for table decoration. tVe have only one palm in New Zealand —the nikau —but it's a very fine one. it bears a singular resemblance to the columns of the ancient Egyptian architecture, which were no doubt suggested by paint trees. The fronds of the nikau are very slender and graceful, though often of immense size, and specimens are found in favourable situations towering to a height of 50 feet. The nikau carries its flower upon a huge fleshy stalk hanging down at the foot of the fronds, and the flower is followed by a great bunch of scarlet berries. Botanists take great delight in visiting New Zealand, and may never be able to name all our plants, for new plants are often discovered. There are many varieties of ferns alone. Luckily, our Government protects parts of the bush all over the country, so that the need of umber will not cause the extinction of some of ! most beautiful of our plant life. IN YE RCA v/ LD. I Yes, Invercauld, our plant life is very rich, and also presents many striking features. One is the great variability of many plants, which often puzzles botanists as to whether two or three showing consider- j able diversities belong to different species, or whether they are merely variations of one. Another, noted by Miss Moreland in the extract given by Octogenarian, is the different foliage of many trees in different stages ; of growth.—ESTHER. FLOWERS OF THE HILLS. Dear Esther, —Apart from tiie student of botany, to become familiar with our native hill flowers one must, I think, make their elojj acquaintance through the days of childhood. Like the modest violet, they choose rather to blush unseen, and thentender, unobstiusive beauty is not gathered at a glance. But a child's small fingers delve deep into nooks and grasses, and a child’s roving eyes seek cut every fresh treasure to be found in solitary places. So on the tussock lulls of Otago we learned to know and love every flower that there peeps upward to the sky. In comparison to other countries New Zealand is not rich in blcuBoins, and the slender loveliness of t-lie little tussock plants would be lost beside the brighter blooms. Perhaps the sturdiest, ' as certainly it was the most conspicuous, 1 was the plant that we never knew by any other name than the Maori onion—l have not yet heard its native designation. They come of a gregarious family, and through , the warm summer months the gold of their ! conical yellow heads, rising above the fleshy j brown-tinted leaves, made great spas lies of colour that feasted the eye for many : days. They hold no scent, and owe everything to their bright primitive hue. The only other flowers that grouped for display were the tiny stemless orchids and the little grey-leaved white evei listings—the llatter loving best a gully-side to show their pretty pepper-like heads against, and very oflen marched in company with the antlered vstagmoßs, so prized in our youthful wild-flower bouquets. The pale-faced orchids streaked with delicate mauve, their petals set almost upon the ground, favoured moist earth, and were wont to congregate down towards the creek beds or on an open tongue of land running down to the water. Their greenrobed sisters—dainty princesses, each one standing alone on her fair green stem—drewcloser to ihe tussocks, year by year their fragile faces rising to greet us as Christinas Day drew near. Spring brought us the beautiful little white violet, and then there was the hill bluebell, pale lovey blue—was ever another bell fashioned to swing in windls on such a slim support!—and the shy liiJl heath. Beside the- glory cf her cousins in warmer lands this tiny pale pink-tinted heath might be but a denizen of elfin worlds. But how fair the moulding of it, and scented sweet as the sweetest honey. How we loved that perfumed little heath, short where it dwelt in the open, but emboldened) to a greater growth when it could make its way upward through the heart of a silver tussock. ”ith what eaie wo used to part the grasses to reach the slender stem when we saw the scented head peep through. About tho epots where the heath grew wo would later find the white snow-berries; but the plants were always few enough in number to set a value upon the- discovery. Then there was a tiny, insignificant white flower, flic name of which wo never knew; and another almost indistinguishable white blossom (covered in autumn with a white down), set low *in a matted oid of grey leaves, but giving forth a peculiai and far from savoury odour —foi this word rather than scent seems more fittingly to desciibe it. We used to l call it the ferro. plant, and no name found conid be more appropriate! Anyone who has handled these sharp-faced, tenacious, crafty little native, or Africa, or worked about their lurches, would know it. Among rocks standing out from the gullies tho anise was always to be found- bow I abhorred the taste of it, and well do I remember our experiment in the form of anise tea, a decoction of chopped leaves, sugar, and water, to be paa-ie.ken cf from a bottle, as desire dictated; no desire of mine was ever more attenuated, or lived a briefer life! But the bright, glossy leaves had a charm in the picking, and many a bunch we carried home for a pet sheep, whose appetite in this matter was quite at variance wiih mine. Of larger growth there was the little pale-flowered koromiko and the native fuchsia, the latter never growing to any height, small of leaf pud flower and berry, and almost alwavs to be found against a stone. One bush, besidb a ledge of rock above a small creek waterfall, in a warm, sunny gully, I thought bad brighter flowers and sweeter berries than any. There were the tutu and ferns—but they would lead one too far—the tough hill kowhai and the native currant—just on odd ti-ee —flax and toi-toi, and the strong, rough-barked cabbage tree, with its great creamy bunches of blossom. They were all children of the hills, with the silver tussock for their setting. OABRIELLE. I had written that contributors had almost confined themselves to forest vegetation before receiving your coaitrihu-ion, dab nolle, and also Faith’s and Geraldine's, which likewise speak of flowers of tho open Country. Yes, it is those- who have spent their childhood in country but little altered from its wild state who are likely to know and lov© our flowers best. —ESTHER. MEMORIES OK TASMANIAN FLOWERS. Dear Esther, I wonder if I may deviate C trifle from the subject of to-day’s meeting to t-lio extent of bringing you a handful of native flowers from another country than that of our own New Zealand? For I have been away in a land of memory, in a little homo that belongs to two years of childhood, by a sunny blue Tasmanian river, Where native trees and native flowers mac Impart of the gladness of care-free life. In the paddock that made our chief playground, With its long grass and brushwood fences—irheie we had to keep a sharp lockout for

snakes—there were trees of all kinds. Be- | yond its boundaries they climbed the hills and stood beside the roads, anct clothed the little world with a- coat of many-colon red browns and greens. Gum trees were prominent among them. 1 remember a beautiful old tree that my father saved from destruction by “ringing,” and tall green Oyster Bay pines that made one think of the masts of ships, and tempted one to climb as high as one dared, and drooping olive-g Teen sheoaks, of which a Tasmanian writer e-ays that “the foliage consists of long, thin streamers, jointed like the ‘horse-tails’ of English brooks, which clothe the branches with waving masses like great tufts of gia«nt hair, and make a curious and sadly musical sound when the wind whistles through them.” Then there was the native cherry, with its tasteless little red berries with the stone growing on the outside, and tea-tree (very J/tke our manuka), and chief of all the trees, the wattles in springtime—masses and masses ot yellow blossom, tilling all the air with their scent. How glorious they were, and how we loved them! Of the wild flowers that we gathered I remember most distinctly the native heaths —red, pink, and white —that grew in great patches of colour. I can recall a neighbour’s paddock, a perfect carpet of heath, that our childish eyes looked upon as a fairyland; and I always loved the mountain lily, an exquisitely delicate little thing with white petals, something like a tiny iris, that sprang up from the tufted grasses on a slender little stem. Beloved, too, was a little creeper with bright blue starry flowers, which also grew in the coarse grasses, climbing and twining about them. I have since heard this called “Love.” We knew it by no name, but to me it always scorned to be the flower par excellence, to be i used for a wreath for the queen when one played fairies. In autumn it was a land ot beautiful berries—red, white, pink, and deep purple. The school children gathered these by the side of the road —great bunches of them—and carried them as a token of their love to the idolised woman teacher at the little school, sometimes laying a bunch, as a little schoolgirl said, “agin the gate” of the stonewalled garden for the children who lived in the gabled house beyond. There was also a tiny, insignificant berry which grew close to the ground. This we took little heed of till an aunt came to visit us, and it acquired a new interest when she told us, much to the disapproval of grown-ups, who carefully instilled into us the fear of poisonous beiries, that it was the sa?ne as the English cranberry, and could be used for sauce and tarts without risk. I suppose j there were many other plants and flowers, i lost to my recollection in the obscurity of years, but these are the best remembered. I bring them to you, Esther, from very faroff days. EVE. You and Ga brie lie know the flowers of two lands equally well, Eve. Your account of Tasmanian flowers will be generally app reel ate d. —ES TH EE. FAMILIAR FLOWERS. Dear Esther, —When I come to think of it I really know very little about our native plant life. How much joy the buttercups and daisies bring to the little ones! Yes, and how they cheer the hearts of their elders, too. I think that they are the commonest of our native flowers, and as they are so plentiful they must surely bring a larger proportion of joy than their rarer sisters. 1 remember when I was a girl how we delighted to gather tho wild white everlastings and to make them into baskets, photo frames, etc., to our eyes then they were more beautiful than any we could buy. There is a charm about the little things one makes from the flowers scattered round about, and who could live without the flowers? What bright messengers they are, especially in the dark, sad days which fail to every lot. They come, To comfort man, to whisper hope When e’er his faith grows dim. For who so caretli for the flowers Will much more care for Him How bright a bed of Maori onions look with their yellow florets glowing in the sun. Another bright yellow flower i?. the rag-weed, which is formed of clusters of yellow daisies. What delightful exclamations the children all make when they see it for the first time! If only it was a “rare” plant, instead of a “noxious weed,” how many would welcome it to iheir gardens. I love the yellow flowers. To me they always seem to say, “Cheer up. there- is a good time coining.” Where we now live there are no cabbage trees, with their beautiful cream lily-like flowers. Neither is their any manuka, with its starry blossom and its spicy fragrance. To the little ones to wander on a ridge clad with manuka bushes in like a trip to fairyland. What a heaiihy, life-giving perfume manuka lias, and] who does not relish a cup of “billy” tea when the said billy has been boiled with manuka twigs? It has a flavour all its own. How sweet and pure the dear little native white violets are, growing close to the ground. To me all the flowers seem "to whisper the same sweet message: “To trust and not be afraid.” They bring these verses to my mind: Peace, perfect peace, our future all unknown. Jesus we know, and He is on the throne. Peace, perfect peace, death shadowing us and our; Jesus lias vanquisher] death and all its powers. It is enough: earth’s struggles soon shall cease. And Jesus call us to heaven’s perfect peace. Whatever trouble® or trials the unknown morrow may bring, of one thing we may rest assured—that His grace is sufficient. For has He not promised. Yea, I am with : thee ahvay. even unto the end of the world." With all good wishes. FAITH, The daisies and buttercups of our pastures and roadsides and the ragwort are doubtless “natives,” as most of the white : people of the dominion are, but are really European. I delight in tho two former; . there is no gold like that of the English ; buttercup. Our native buttercups arc not ( much in evidence nowadays. I remember j how I used to love the native everlasting ias a child Thank vou much for your : letter.—ESTHER. SOME TREES AND ORCHIDS. Dear Esther,—New Zealand has hen so denuded of its flora by sheep, cattle, lire, and cultivation that in the more settled districts it is difficult to find a native plant |or tree growing in its native slate. On© ; lias to travel far afield to the valleys and plains tucked away between the mountains ; to find the wild flowers and plants that wore : such a feature of the hills and plains in the early days of settlement. In many of the larger private gardens New Zealand flowering shrubs and trees are finding a place. The kowhai, manuka, ribbon woods, and matipos arc frequently seen, grown for I their beautiful flowers and foliage. In a I garden I have in mind there are three | species of tho “daisy tree”—one with pale j green silvery leaves, bearing bright yellow flowers, a very showy bush ; two others boar !e, profusion of white flowers, the foliage

slightly different. The leaves are dark green, with rather prickly edges. They are qirte easily grown from cuttings. xuere are also many veronicas, several bearing whit© flowers and others pale lavender, shading into deep purple. I first saw the “daisy trees,” as they are called, growing on Mount Egraont. January or early February is the best time to see them in full bloom. I remember many years ago seeing some very curious orchids growing in a small patch of native bush. One was about eix inches high, with green leaves like a broad grass, the flower shaped something like a skull, two slender petals, slightly curving up on either side, giving the appearance of a pair of horns. Another, still more curious, was a rather slender brown stem about 10 or 12 inches high, from which hung little brown flowers, resembling small lizards. These flowers were very sweet scented. These are the only two species I have seen of New Zealand orchids, and I do not know their botanical names. GERALDINE. Dunedin is favoured in having a very great variety of our true native plants of all kinds flourishing close to the city. It is quite otherwise in Christchurch, I know. Thank you for your note, Geraldine. I thank heartily all who have sent in papers, and hope that those members who have not joined our circle this time will bo able to do so on subsequent occasions. ESTHER. Our Native Plants meeting has proved very interesting. I forgot to say that Hinekopanga sent carefully preserved and labelled specimens of the flowers she describes. Several of them are new to me, among them the small win*to manuka, the blossoms not being a third of the size of that which j whitens many of the hillsides around Dunedin in spring time. I thank all contributors, and hope absent members will join next meeting. ESTHER.