From a Sister’s Point of View.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXX, Issue XXVI, 27 June 1903, Page 1826

From a Sister’s Point of View.

By May Oswald, A.C. Of course we always feel deeply our responsibilities as sisters, but at what age does a brother become really interesting in himself, apart from any ordinary sense of duty? Usually, we believe, about the age of 16. His hearty good-humour, striking out right and left, his independence, his carelessness, of the morrow, must impress us all. The only clouds on his fair horizon are the thoughts of unlearned lessons, and the anticipation of their usual accompaniment. About this time, too, he begins to think for himself, and in an elementary sort of way analyses his inner feelings in the endeavour to identify his tastes, and settle in his mind what his future occupation shall be. He likes to be taken seriously, and feels two inches taller every time his opinion is asked, be the subject ever so trivial. The next interesting period commences at about eighteen. We find the youth has been making rapid strides towards manhood. With regard to his personal appearance his progress is wonderful. A close inspection of the upper lip reveals a sign of downy growth, and it is amusing to watch those coaxing downward strokes and final curl, in studied imitation of the man of thirty. His cigar or pipe is now produced and smoked in company with the head of the house, and he is very sensible to the relief from the now unnecessary afterdose of peppermint unauthorised cigarette smoking once made indispensable. At this time, too, the cleanliness of the home laundry no longer satisfies him, and his collars are now sent off to the Celestial John to obtain the brilliant lustre of newness. He falls in love. We anticipate it, and yet withal d'- we not feel the full force of the blow when it actually

falls? The first inkling we gain of it is through his vague questionings as to the size of- ladies’ gloves. Then, perhaps, we come across a dainty box of perfume accidentally left on his dress-ing-table, and gradually an idea forms itself, culminating as he grows more open, and dares to mention Jack Hardie’s as being a lively little girl, whe can play accompaniments beautifully. The ice once broken, he speaks of her frequently, and in spite of one’s self one grows interested. How you would like to compare her "lovely point lace” with yours, and other girls besides Jack’s sister can embroider initials in the corner of a handkerchief. Time still goes on. You meet her, and though satisfied with his choice you realise with a pang the truth of the old saying—“A brother’s a brother till he gets a wife, A sister’s a sister all her life.”