A Book as a Comrade for My Leisure Hours

Southland Times, Issue 20044, 4 December 1926, Page 22 (Supplement)

A Book as a Comrade for My Leisure Hours

—First PrizeOne of my most treasured and entertaining comrades is a good book. These comrades have already brought me much knowledge, and enchantment. Through one I met those old Grecian heroes, whose brave spirits, fair bodies, and noble frames, made them seem like gods. Another took me sailing the seas, with Nelson, Raleigh and Drake. Per book, I travel in India and the mysterious East. Other times my comrades, the books, bring to me, pictures of divers, pearl-fishing, lion-hunting, coral islands, mermaids and water nymphs, until they all seem as familiar to me as if I had spent my last Christmas holidays amongst them. Some books bring fun, others like little “David Copperfield,” bring tears. When my comrade, the book, depicts the lives of heroes, I am filled with pride because those heroes were my forefathers and I determine that I, too, will live a life worth while. I have exceeding pleasure when my comrade is a book of good poetry. There is something so like music in the way some poets clothe their thoughts. A book, as a comrade, may be educating, entertaining, cheering and inspiring. —5/- and 4 marks to Cousin James Botting (11) “Terry Hill”, Woodlands. —Second Prize— What would this world be without books? Life for me would lose one of its greatest pleasures. My leisure hours are nearly all spent in the world of romance where the hero thrills me with his skill and daring and the villain makes my flesh creep with his murderous doings. I forget that they are all merely creatures of the imagination and think of them as real people in everyday life. When work calls me I very reluctantly put. my book aside but am comforted with happy anticipations of going back to it as soon as possible. Work done for the time being I once more lose myself in the story. Pages and pages of

thrilling adventures, marvellous rescues, hair-breadth escapes and wonderful descriptions of beautiful scenery all make the time fly rapidly. The deeper I become absorbed in the book the more interested and fascinated I am. When the last page is slowly turned I place ray beloved companion back on the bookshelf but not to stay for ever. The time will come when it will become once more the comrade of my leisure hours. —2/6 and 3 marks to Cousin Bert Lilico (11), “Lammermoor," Drummond. —Highly Commended. — Whether one is happy or sad, despairing or gloomy, there is always a book to fit one’s mood. When everything seems to go wrong, take a book, a thrilling one, packed with breathless adventure and then, carried away on the wings of imagination to the heart of some dense tropical forest or down a rushing river in a light, bark canoe, every-day cares are left behind, forgotten. Or leave this modem world behind, and step into the rustling crinolines of long ago, to glide with dainty grace through warm old-fashioned gardens.

Perhaps life seems dull and nothing exciting ever seems to happen, th£n that’s the time to take a treasure cruise, to join a band of naughty pirates and in a white sailed schooner, guided my some old waiting and plan on the treasure island map, roam the seas in search of the mysterious enchanted isle. Feel the fresh breeze that swells the beautiful sails, feel the quiver of the ship, as she rides over the foaming waves. We may all be quite ordinary people to the world, but—to ourselves, with our favourite books, we are princes and princesses, sailors or hunters of the north. We can assume any role we wish and enjoy it, and live it. Ah, those precious moments of leisure in bookland, when the book is opened, and one slips away to many adventures in distant lands. —2 marks to Cousin Daisy Ward (16) Awarua plains. —Highly Commended.— What comrade is better Tor our leisure hours than a book? Even our best friend cannot give to us what a good book can. In a book we can travel to the utmost parts of the earth, we can see Africa, America, India; we can go to the homes of our forefathers in England, Scotland and Ireland and see everything as it is. Without travelling a mile we can see the world. Then we can have amusing, funny books that cheer us when we feel lonely; a dlscript:ve book that shows us as in a mirror the beauties of nature. We can have books written about ancient ages, that can take us from the twentieth century back thousands of years, until we see Egypt, Palestine, Greece and Rome as they were in the days of their splendour; and living before our eyes we see the rise of Britain until she is what she is.

All these things and more can a good book talk to us about; surely it then can be called a comrade for our leisure hours. —2 marks to Cousin Millicent Broadbent (15) 5 Compton Road, Trafalgar, Invercargill.

—Highly Commended.— A roaring fire, a comfy chair, and a good fat book. My chin in my hands, my book on my knee —and then I am happy. Hail, rain and wind can dash themselves against the house and rattle the windows as long as they like, so long as I have a book. Sea stories, adventure stories, school tales, mysteries, historical works. It doesn’t matter what it is, I enjoy them all—but not love stories. I sail the mighty, tossing ocean; guide ships through howling gales; get washed overboard, and get ship-wrecked on barren coral islands, in imagination with the hero of the sea story. I love to get tangled up in a thrilling mystery story, and unravel it in dozens of different and impossible ways myself. I go back centuries in historical writings, and in imagination live in the days of duels and prim old-fashionedness.. Never, so long as I have a book, am I lonely. Reading is, to me, the most delightful of pastimes, and a well-written book of any style Is my best companion, when leisure hours have come. A book never gives me cheek, tramps on my toes, or pulls my hair; and though life would be a dull affair without such little occurrences, still, it is nice to be able to retreat behind the red or blue covers, and enjoy oneself to one’s heart’s content with thrilling, rollicking, or sad literature, in one’s favourite way. Never, so long as I have a book, will the hours be long, or I lonely. —2 marks to Cousin Eileen Jaquiery (17) 21 George Street, North Invercargill. —Highly Commended.— I love, on a cold winter’s evening, or a fine etxmmer’s day, to take a book and pass my leisure hours before a cosy fire; or on a garden seat, reading. Now I am galloping across the plains of America, pursued by a fierce band of Red Indians. Now as a wealthy heiress, find myself in an English ball-room. Many and varied are the attractions of books. Everyone has his or her own special taste in literature, and all can find, with a little exertion, the very book they want.

Sitting before our own fires, or in our own gardens, and in a few seconds to find oneself whisked away to England, to Alaska in a gold-rush, to India with some fanatics surrounding one in a temple, to Egypt in I all its own cold superiority, wrought ,by its historic past, seems an utter impossibility. Yet, who has not had that pleasure? Who has not, while reading some book, seemed to see and to live what one reads? Those who have not, have missed one of life’s sweetest joys, for a good book is the best of company. —2 marks to Cousin Eileen Mclntosh (15) 59 Ness Street, Invercargill. —Highly Commended.— I have such a wide circle of friends — my books. When I feel the rain is never going to stop, and nothing happens that I want to happen, it is one of the times that any book is my comrade. I can, in my imagination journey with “Alice in Wonderland” or with Robinson Crusoe on his lonely island or voyage with Sinbad the Sailor. I have followed Hansel and Gretel through the woods to the witch’s house and almost clapped my hands for joy when they escaped and the beautiful swan carried them over the lake on his back. Books are like a golden bridge over which I can go into that wonderful jvorld of fairies, elves, witches and giants lost to the world till mother’s voice says, “Set the teatable” or “Bedtime.” Books fill the mind with beautiful thoughts and help to develop imagination. —2 marks to Cousin Joan Whitworth (11), 19 Raymond street, Georgetown. —Commended. — Can any leisure hours be spent more enjoyably than when in the companionship of the delightful book “Anne of Green Gables." To me “Anne” is not just a character in a book, but a real jolly chum. How I laugh with her in her queer blunders, and mistakes and weep with her in her bitter disappointments. Her love for everything beautiful, and her gift of imagining plain things beautiful, makes “Anne” lovable. Her fiery indignation when anyone calls her carrots arouses my deepest sympathy. In being an honest plain-spoken little soul Anne wins the respect of all Avonlea. Shy awkward Mathew is like a big loving brother to Anne. Grim-faced, but kindhearted, Manila—fat gossiping Mrs Lynde—Diana, Anne’s sworn friend—the jealous Pyes who always say disagreeable things—Gilbert Blythe, Anne’s ardent, but snubbed sweetheart—the Sloanes—Anne’s schoolmates, Jane a really sensible girl and Ruby, the coquette—are a few of the characters, and they are old friends of mine w’hen I read this book. But to me the best comrade is the dear little orphan girl Anne Shirley. —1 mark to Cousin Mabel Wright (14) Makarewa. —Commended. — it was raining and blowing a “freezing wind as I wended my way homewards. Work was over for the day! Oh, joy! In my mind’s eye I saw the drawing-room’s blazing fire and my precious book lying where I had left it the previous evening. I forgot the cold wind and driving rain as I pictured myself sitting, as I would be in an hour’s time with my chair close to the fire and my book in my hands. Surely there is no better comrade than a good book!

It is delightful to lose oneself, for a few hours, in a really interesting volume. If one needs cheering up, how easy it is to chuckle back again one’s good spirits by reading Wodehouse’s, “Piccadilly Jim,” or Jenkins’s “Bindle”!

A book is almost a better comrade than a person for people do not always fall in with one’s mood whereas, if the library be searched a book which is entirely to one’s liking, can always be found. It is impossible to me to imagine what life would be if one were deprived of the companionship of books, and I often wonder what people, who are not fond of reading, occupy themselves with, when rain (as it often does) prevents outdoor pastimes. —1 mark to Cousin Anita Tapley, (15) 77 Dalrymple Road, Invercargill.