A ROSALINE TREE

Timaru Herald, Volume CXLVI, Issue 21362, 3 June 1939, Page 3 (Supplement)

A ROSALINE TREE

Oh dear! said Rosaline’s mother, taking some dried autumn berries out of a vase. “I really njust throw away these berries now. I wish they would last all through the winter.” "They certainly have seen their best days,” laughed Auntie Stella. “If I were rich,” went on Rosaline’s mother, "I should always have flowers or something bright on the top of my old writing-table.” “Can’t you get coloured berres?” asked Rosaline. “I’m afraid not,” said Mummy, smiling. “I’m afraid all the berries are over.” “And if I were very rich, Mummy,” Rosaline said, “I’d buy you heaps of flowers for your birthday next week.” “I’m sure you would, darling,” said her mother, kissing her. When Mummy went out of the room Auntie Stella said, “I’ve thought of a lovely idea for your present for Mummy’s birthday, Rosaline.” “Oh, what is it?” cried Rosaline. “We’ll get our hats and coats and go and look for some thorn twigs,” answered her aunt, “and I’ll tell you all about it.” As soon as they were dressed they went into the little wood behind the house. When they had found three nice spiky thorn t'gigs they took the bus into the town and bought a little bottle of varnish and a sixpenny necklace of coloured glass beads, all sizes and colours. Rosaline got very excited. And as soon as Mummy had set off for her tea-party in the afternoon Auntie Stella painted the twigs with varnish, and Rosaline cut the string of the beads and fitted each one on to the end of a sticky spike of the thorn branch. How pretty they looked with the light shining through them—red and green and blue and yellow! “Now we must put them away to dry thoroughly,” said Auntie Stella, “and then they'll be ready for Mummy’s birthday.” Rosaline could hardly wait for the day. She ran into her mother’s room the first thing, crying. “Look, Mummy! Look at your berry tree! Auntie Stella and I made it for your birthday.” Mummy was delighted. And when the sunlight glinted through the coloured glass berries in the vase on the top of her writing-table she said she didn’t know when she had seen anything so pretty.