LONG BUSH.

Southland Times, Issue 1556, 26 March 1872, Page 3

LONG BUSH.

(PROit OUR OTO CORRESPONDENT.) The harvest operations here are nearly completed. Every advantage haa been taken of the propitious weather by the settlers, and in consequence a large proportion of their crops are safe under " thack and rape." The turnip crop promises well, though an occasional Bhower is very much wanted. Potatoes suffered severely from the frost on the morning of Wednesday week, and the fields present a very blackened and dismal appearance. Some patches here and there, owing to their sheltered situation, have escaped — but these are few and far between. The other day I saw a field of Derwents in full bloom on the farm of Robert Hamilton, Esq., which were untouched by the nipping fingers of John Frost, and which promises a large and remunerative yield. By-the-bye the communication between the two sides of the bush has been very much facilitated by the opening of an excellent track, which, during the almost insupportable heat of the last week, it was positively delightful to traverse. The refreshing green of the underwood — the umbrageous shades of the larger trees — the gigantic stature of the mighty monarchs of the forest, are objects which cannot fail to inspire the contemplative mind with the love of the grand and the beautiful. There stand the ancients of the wood, With aspect scarred and gray, Like sages of the olden time, All glorious in decay. O could they find a tongue, what tales Of wonder they could tell, "When savage hordes like demons roamed The woods of sweet Rozelle. Let lordlings live in castle hall, In splendor, pomp, and pride — Let barons boast of state and power, And acres broad and wide — Let poets revel in their dreams 'Mid rock and bosky dell, For mo, my grateful theme shall be— The woods of fair Rozelle. I've gazed on England's verdant plains. On many a gorgeous seene — I've roamed Old Scotland's valleys through, And climbed her mountains green— I've sailed her islet-studded lakes — I've culled her heather bell — But brighter, lovelier, far than all Is Southland's fair Rozelle. It is perhaps the most delightful part of the task of " our own correspondent" to note the onward and upward progress of civilisation, and an event occurred last week which proves that we are not lagging behind the age. I refer to a visit paid to ua by two old acquaintances, Punch and Judy, who, under the guidance and direction of Mr Pope, exhibited their wonderful and instructive performances in the evening in the Waihopai Hotel, which, it is said, were a great success, and patronised — as is usually said on I such occasions — by a " large, intelligent, and appreciative" number of spectators. Their " Highnesses," attended by Mr Pope, returned to town next day.