DAY IN ESTONIA

Taranaki Daily News, 28 November 1934, Page 12

DAY IN ESTONIA

BEAUTY OF SPRING SEASON.

(By Elizabeth Kyle)

Spring comes earlier to the little Baltic State of Estonia, fringing the Gulf of Finland, than to its great northern neighbour. Built on different levels, Estonia's ancient capital, Tallinn, soars upward towards the DombCrg, or Danish fortification, now made into charming gardens, with flights of ornamental steps flanked with stone urns which m summer spill vivid blossoms over their edges. On either side of these steps the flower-women have their stands. With their fragrant trays in frdnt of them,

they suggest a royal carpet which leads upward towards the gardens and the Russian Cathedral. The whole population of the tiny capital must, it seems, pass by the Domberg Steps once at least daily. And what more tempting than the thought of taking home a bunch of flowers, especially if they are the first blossoms of the year, and dreadfully expensive? “Say it with Flowers” is no idle slogan among people who had time to learn a little of the luxurious, pleasure-loving habits of the Russians before separating themselves from that once mighty Empire on its fall. Helsingfors, the ultra-modern capital of Finland, lies but four hours’ journey away. Most Estonian women of comfortable means manage to persuade ■ their husbands to let them ran over for a week-end occasionally, to see the latest play, or the newest fashions which sometimes pass their little “night-cap city” over. And another rigid but very charming habit learned from the Russians is that you must on no account allow your wife i,r any female relative to depart for a visit anywhere, no matter how brief, without taking flowers to her at the station or the boat. So, just when the boat is about due to leave her moorings, the flower-women are busy handing Out bouquets to agitated husbands, who have run out from their offices to buy them and take them down to the docks by taxi. What the flower-women of the Domberg Steps do with themselves in winter, when the snow Ties thick in the Gardens and icicles drip from the stone urns, is a mystery. But their reappearance with trays massed high with sweet-smelling violets is the sign that spring has really come.