Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image

CHILDREN’S PAGE.

COUSINS’ BADGES. Cousins requiring badges are requested ■to send an addressed envelope, when the badge will be forwarded by return mail. COUSINS’ CORRESPONDENCE. Dear Cousin Kate, —I wrote you such a long letter, and just as 1 was going to put it in the envelope 1 found 1 had written on both sides of the paper, so 1 did not Send it. J had no time to write another then, so 1 missed the mail. I am afraid 1 won’t be able to ■write you much of a letter now, as I don’t suppose 1 will be able to mink of all I told you in the other. However, yesterday 1 spent a-very pleasant day. Wc started away, father and 1, on our bicycles, en route for Woolston, where my grandmother lives, for we intended visiting her, and then getting home in time for lunch. It was early in the morning, about nine, for we had a good ride before us. Tne road to Woolston is a lovely one. Me scon left the busy town behind us, and came upon the outskirteT of Opawa. Pretty villas with lovely gardens and sloping lawns skirted the road »t intervals. Soon, however, we left these, too, behind us, passing paddocks in which sheep and cows were grazing knee deep in such green, tender grass. Mattie trees we passed in dozens, all ablate with golden ■bloom, and the smell, Cousin Kate, was intoxicating. We found (trannie well, and delighted to see us. I should live you to know her. Cousin K ite. She has the sweetest and prettiest face 1 ever saw on such an old lady. We think her the loveliest little grannie in the world. When we had rested and had some refreshment, she took us out to ere her garden. It is a perfect'paradise of beauty now. Such violets—not small tired-looking Howers like cue sees in the town, but great large things of a deep purple colour and a delicious ecent. Primroses, too, she Ims of every colour, including some very rare ones. One of these is a kind of pink. This the gardener has been experimenting on for years. I do not know how it is done. People who - make a study of flowers can do it. Grannie says they have pome way of mixing the colours. Anyway, it is very wonderful, and of course a great secret amongst those who know the art. At last we had to leave “Grannie’s paradise” (that is what we call her garden), for it was getting late. We went home by what wo call

the Hjll-road. This road winds around the foot of the Port Hills. We passed quaint farm houses nestling in the valleys and surrounded by orchards and other trees. When we reached home we were quite ready for a good lunch, and although a bit tired yet we had quite enjoyed our morning ride. In the ufternoon we took our books

and climbed a good way up the hill, where we had a good view of the city of, Christchurch. The island on the. Avon is quite a recent addition added by the Beautifying Society of Christchureh, so perhaps that accounts for your not having heard of i( before. It is very pretty, especially when a.ll the flowers are out. If you like I will get you some views of the Avon. Dear i'ousin Kate, do the eousjns collect for the Cot Fund now? I could collect for it if they do. Yes, I am interested in footbalh at least I like to see it playeel. Do you really like my letters? I always write such scrappy things, I thought. As my news has nnw quite run out 1 Will have to stop. With heaps of love

to you, dear Cousin Kate, and all the other cousins, I will remain, ever your loving eousin, Winnie, Ohristchurcn.

[Dear Cousin Winnie, —Thank yea very much indeed for your long and admirably descriptive letter. You wiite so vividly of all you did and saw on that bicycle ride that 1 eould quite well picture it all, and feel as if I had been there too. What a very dear old lady your grannie must be—she sounds quite charming, but do you know I believe that it is a way grannies have got. I knew of several, and all their relatives think them the dearest old ladies in the world. I am very fond of flowers, and at one time did quite a lot of gardening, but never get time now. 1 never, however, understood the scientiC;' pax, such as your grannie goes in for; it must be most interesting, but, of course, quite beyond most people. It is the day of the spring flower show here today, and I have to go. to it for the paper, so I must leave oil’ writing to you now, and get all my other letters answered.—Cousin Kate.] 4-4-4-Dear Cousin Kate. —The weather has been very cold and wet since 1 wrote to you last. Last Thursday we had a fall of snow, so we had a game of snowball at school. To-day (Sunday) mother, Desmond and I went down to the Bellevue dredge for a walk. We have been Jiving here nearly two years now, and it is very lonely. 1 am sending yon the photo by this mail to put. in the ‘•Graphic.” Love to you and all the cousins.—Willie, Murehijon. [Dear Cousin Willie, —'I hank you very much indeed for the photograph; it is such a nice one, 1 think. J feel quite proud of having such sturdy sailer laddies for my cousins. 1 have four little sailor buy cousins now. Next time you write v. ill you tell me which i., which, mid "how old vou both are? Did you enjoy your gaiVe of. snowballing? It is great fun,«l think, but, of course, we never have snow here, so it is a very long time since I saw a really good game. We had a very heavy hail storm here last week, and .some of Ihe boys were making" it into balls end pelting one another with them; but, of course, it was very soft, end melted away almost at once.—Cousin Kate.] 4- 4- fr Dear Cousin Kate,—You will find my photo enclosed. This is my little dog I told you of, dear Cousin Kate. I have just turned fifteen years old. Let me know if you like it or not. 1 tun sending two, a light, and a dark one. We all think the dark one is the best to put in the •'Graphic.” Would vou kindiv return, please. Cousin Kate? 1 am send ing an addressed envelope. My birthday is on August 4th. I think you slid that your birthday was in August in your answer to one of the cousins. Cousin Kate, when you get your photo taken will you please put if in the •‘Graphic” for all of your com-in- to sec? I am afraid my photos are overweight, so T will send an extra pomiv stamp, which you will find enclosed. Would you please write "Photographs, with care,” on the envelope when you send them back? I forgot to put it. on. Yon spent part, of your holiday at Te Arolia,- didn’t you? Did you enjoy yourself, and did you feel well up there? It is horrid having bad health and feel ing unhappy when one is away for a holiday. T don't mean to infer that yon were in bad health, because I don't know whether you were or not. but I

hope you weren't. Good-bye, Com in Kaj-e, with love from Cousin Beatrice.

[Dear Cousin Beatrice, —Thank you very much indeed for the photographs. 1 liked seeing them so much, and am very sorry that, yours is not distinct enough for reproduction. The face is a little blurred, and if we tried to reproduce it in the “Graphic” I'm afraid it would be so indistinct that it would be unreco.'ziiisable. Next time you have one taken ■will you send me one? and 1 rhajl be delighted to put it in. Yes, my birthday is in August too, but mine is later in the month than yours. 1 nearly forgot to say that your photographs were overweight, but it would have been all right if you had cut a tiny, piece out of the side of the envelope. Next time you send a photo, to anyone don’t forget to do this, because there is always a tine to pay if it is closed up: and you must never put a letter inside it. of course. I enjoyed myself thoroughly up at Te Aroha, and the air up there is so lovely. It makes one feci brisk and energetic, in spiti? of one's self. I am glad to say that I don’t knew what it is to feel ill. but you don’t look very strong in your photographs, and you write as if you know what it is to feel miserable. Cambridge is a beautiftilly healthy place, and if you are not very strong J hope living there will soon make vou so.—Cousin Kato.] 4- 4» 4* Dear Cousin Kate, —I was very pleased to see my letter in the “Graphic.’’ Thank you very much for the badge and pin. they arc very pretty. We are still having cold weather down this part, everything is looking very bleak. We -caught throe wild hens today, they have been in the bush over two years. They can fly I ke pigeons; we havojlow cut their wings and tail and put them in a -box for a few days until they get. tamo; we will then let them out with the other fowls. I will let you know luxw they are getting on in the next dot tor. — Your hiving. Cousin Desmond. [Dear Cousin Desmond.-—I am glad you liked seeing your letter in the “Graphic.’’ They always look ever so much nicer in print, I think. The weather has been very cold and miserable all over Now Zealand lately, but, of course, it ist only whfrt we ought to expect in the winter time. However, winter is nearly over now. and T suppose in a very short time we shall all be complaining of the heat. I know 1 shall, f:u- it is always so dreadfully hot in Auckland during the months of DoofinVer. January and February. How did you manage to catch those wld hens? ! expect it will be some time before tl-ev are tame enough to bp let out with the other fowls? Cousin Kate.] -I- 4 Dear Cousin Kate, What darling little cats those were in list week’s “Graphic.” Our pot r little kit Lea hasn’t < o’nie back yet. I don't suppose it will .ever come back. I’atlwr and myself went to see Lorna the other day. 1 did not wait to pal her as I saw some bullocks quite near me. I Hew for my I’fe when I saw them. I am sure they would have chased me if I had not run away in time- I am very frightened of rows. too. We used to have a row si bunt e Uve years agb: 1 am glad we ■haven’t, one now. Do vou ever go to Albert Park. Cousin Kate? I have been on* e< r twice it is a lovely place to go to I think. We-were going there yesterday. but it turned out wet, and w<» tens'd not go. I have not. been to Te Aroha, father often goes up there; I think moilur has been there. What a

long drive it must have been'We. mie yon-went for? AVerr you not stlfl when you arrived home? It would not have bevn *ery nice if you had been tipped out. Ow«p. when Amy dial Nora went for a r-de, Lorna got a fright at something and sliird to one side, and Amy went off the other side. She was not hurt very much, but when she arrv*ad home she was shaking like anything. A\ hf n we had two horses we had lovely times. Amy ami myself took turn about going out with Nora. We generally used to go up to the Domain and gallop over ihe hill. The harbour look so lovely from the top of the hill, that wp could not help stopping to look at it. Nora is a grand rider. Amy and-myself could ride when we were about five or six years old. Wr heard the mail boat’s whistle about (>.30 o’clock this evening. Eat her is going to town to get Douglas’ letters. It is about four years and nine months since Douglas left Auckland—it seems double that time to me. Have you any brothers or sisters,. Cousin K:rte? I can’t think of anything more to tejl you. So with love to yourself and the tousins.—Your lov ng Cousin Mary S. (Auckland). | Dear Cousin Mary. Did you covet any of those cats in the “Graphic” last week? I did: they were such beauties, I thought. 1 am afraid you have seen the last of your little kitten. It has been away so long now that 1 don’t suppose it will ever come back. Do you mean to tell me that you were frightened of the bullocks when your father was with you? I am not in the least afraid of them, but then I was brought up-in the country, and there, of course, one gets used to them. The Albert Park is very pretty, .s i’! it? if we Avalk heme from town wc usually go through the park, as that is the prettiest way. and besides. < nc doesn t get smothered with dust. It wasn’t a very long drive wo went for when we were at Tp Aroha—wo were only out about- throe hours. I have often boon out driving nearly the whole day. and then I was dreadfully stiff, and could hardly walk when I got c.ut of the trap. You inuiit. have enjoyed yourselves immoiivoly when you had two horsps: it is so much nicer to ride in company, isn’t it? Yes. I have three sisters and two brothers, but they are all marred except one sister. Cur family seems so small now there are only four of us left at homo, and there used to bp ten. —Cousin Kate.) 4. 4 4* Dear Cousin Kate. I am glad you enjoyed vour holiday at Te Aroha. though it was so cold. I have read “ I'he Little Larrikin.’’ and I liked it very much. 1 have just read “My Desire.” by Su>an Warner. Ii is such a •lie? b »ok. Have you ever read it. Cousin Kate? My friends arc always leading me b .oks. Tliey b ud me two or three more before I have finished the cue I am reading. Iley are expecting to have the electricity installed some time before next winter. Last night wc had another meeting, and we changed <?ur Christian Endeavour into a .Junior We:d< y Guild. Next Wednesday we are going to have a “literary evening.’’ All the other boys and girls have to write letters about the beauties < f Te Aroha, er any other place they have a isited, or about any liltl.* incident, that has happened during the wo:k. 'These letters are Io be sent in to me as the editor, and I will take them to the meeting next Wednesday < vennm. They w ill not sign their own names to t In in, but any name, like “An Observer.” I will be the only one who will know >ho they came from, but I mu-t keep that a secret. Next Wednesday rxening our minister will r< v a<l them to iw, and we will discuss and criticise them as we think best. Other evenings will be set apart for Bible lessons, and others for the improvement of Ihe mind and other differritl things. I hope these meetings arc a Riicue.ss. When wc are fifteen wc can etl(tr (he f-riiior. I will be fourteen next month. I remain, your loving cousin, Ida, Te Aroha. | Dear Couxin Ida. I < , \prct you h ive been wondering why J oni let trr was not in last week’s “Graphic,’’ but it tame just, after I had scht the others to press, so that I had to keep it buck until this week. T iikcr. “Tlk' Little Larrikin” xcry niiirh indeed, but I have never read ‘Aly Desire.” It is very good of your friends to lend you so many books. 'l'hcic arc not many suitable h r young people in the library, I suppose, are there? I hope your literary ex< ning w ill be a sm cuss; younnuttrll :ne a'ocu! it next time vou

Write. T meant to ask you before what part <»f Tv Arolia yon are living in. If you bad been able to send me a photograph of yourself I might have recognised you when I was up there. 1 suppose you are looking forward to liecoining a niemb<*r of the Senior Wesley Guild. —Cousin Kate.] 4* 4* 4* Dear Cousin Kate, —What a nice number of cousins wrote this week, and what nice interesting letters Cousins Roie and Alison wrote. Their letters are always so nice. I suppose they tell us things about the country in which they live. [ will ask Stella to write to you when I answer her letter. I think it wouhl be nice for me to see her letters in the “Graphic.” 1 will send her this week’s “Graphic” and she will see what you have said, so she may write. I was going out to 1 low irk on Sunday, but it was so wet that 1 could not go. 1 was so disappoint! d, hut 1 suppose 1 will go next time father goes. I forgot to tell you that Stella got an awful fright when the earthquake was there. I cannot write any more this week, as I have no more news.— I remain, your affectionate Cousin l.yndal, Auckland. P.S.—I always go to sign my name Aluriel at the end of my letter.—L.LL | Dear Cousin Lynda 1--There were certainly a great many cousins’ letters in last week’s •’Graphic,” and Roie and Alison wrote such very long ones, too. Of course, they see so many things that arc. new' to us r so they are able to write niu<’h longer letters than we are. £ hope Stella will make up her mind to write to me for your sake as well as for mine. Sunday was a most disappointing day, wasn’t it? It. was so beautifully fine early in the morning, and then it clouded over and turned out quite wet and cold. I suppose you were going to drive out to llowick? The motor ’bus dors not run on Sundays, I think. £ am very anxious to go out in it, but f am going to wait until the roads are better. I don’t wonder you always want to sign your name Muriel instead of Lynda!; it is very hard to gel into the way of it, isn’t it?—-Cousin Kate.] 4? 4* 4* Dear Cousin Kato, As it is raining Very hard, anil I have been going to write to you for a long time, I. will v. rite you a small letter. £am suffering al present from a bad attack of croup, hid hope to be better soon. Aly name is Charlie Dobson, I am twelve years old, and I go io the Marlborough High School. 1 like going to school, 1 •caii'-v we have plenty of games. I like ploying rounders best, don’t you? Some of the boys think football is a good game, but 1 think it is rather rough. 1 am very fond of pets, and have got several. My two favourite pets are two little terrier pups, named Juno and Belle; they are very fond of each other, and they play together for hours. I have also got a pet fowl, and a pet parrot. The fowl is a purebred Buff Orpington, and I call her Scratchy, because she is always wanting to tight the other fowls. The parrot’s name is Gawkcy. and though it is only a young bird, it can say a few words. As I went into the room one day it said. ‘’Hello. Baldy.” I have just finished a very nice book by G. Grifl’dhs, called “Flashed Into Space, or The Tragedy Through the Window.” Have you lead this book? -It is very interesting. A friend of mine named Harold has a little white dog, but does not know what to call it. Can you suggest a name? The Japs and Russians ere still fighting, who do you think will win? I hope the Japs will, don’t you? Aly little brother Jack and myself often piny Russian and Jap with pillows. The snow that was here was great fun. and 1 enjoyed myself, but 1 am sorry to say 1 broke a window* in the High School with a snowball. I hope you will put my teller in the “Graphic” next week. I will look out anxiously for it. Your loving friend, t hin lie Dobson.

I Dear Cousin C harlie. —Thank you very much indeed for your letter. You know 1 am always delighted to welcome new cousins. I am so very sorry to hear that you suffer from croup, and I hope you will soon grow out of 11. It is such a wretched thing to have, I know'. Rounders is a. very good game for girls, hut I think boys ought to play football, 1 don’t call it foothill, though, where, there is so much rough play. You have got quite a collection uf pvU, and you Lave chos-

en very suitable names for them, too. Di<l you teach Gawkey to talk yourself? That is the only pet I envy you, for I have always wanted to have a really good talking parrot. No, I have never read “Flashed Into Space.” It must be a boy’s book, I should think, from the name. It sounds as if it would be full of adventure. I’m not very good at thinking of good names for pets, but I should think Suds or

Fluff. Chum is a very nice name for a pet deg, I think. I wish the RussoJapanese war was over; of course, I want the Japs to win, but I think the loss of life is dreadful. Did you get into trouble for breaking the window at school or did you just have to replace it?- —Cousin Kate.] •fr -fi 4? Dear Cousin Kate, —I am afraid this letter will not be very long, because there is not very much to tell you. This is such a dear little place. We have been here a week to-day. You have no idea what quaint little narrow streets there are in this little town. The bathing is lovely, and we have one every morning at about. 11 o’clock, and thoroughly enjoy ourselves. 1 suppose you have heard the song, “The Garden of Sleep?” Well, it was written in a little place very near here —in faet, one can walk there"; we are going soon. The other day we went for a lovely drive to a place called Gunton Park. It is the home of Lord Suftield, and the park and house are beautiful. We drove right through. The country is simply perfect round here. This place is built on cliffs, so you can imagine it is very high, and a good steep walk to the sands; but good for one to have a walk like that after a bathe, I think. To-day we went for a lovely drive to Slieringham, a little place next to this. We drove over in a governess-cart Three of us went—a friend of mine, who is staying with us (I expect you know her —Miss Moss Davis, from" Auckland). my little sister Molly, and myself. When we arrived there we went on the front for a little time, and then drove to some of the sweetest little tea-rooms I have everseen. After that we drove round Slieringliam and then home. We enjoyed mil-selves very much. It is rather niee

to go on the Pier here. The other night we were there, and Miss Davis asked me to carry her coat, which I. of course, did. My brother and I walked up to

the top" of the Pier, put the coat over one of the rails, and we were talking, when all of a sudden —flop! and, lookingover. we saw the coat gaily floating on the top of the water. We did get a fright. We went off the Pier as quickly as possible, and asked two old boat-

it for ns. They said they would try, and went out in a boat, but did not find it. They said it must have sunk. Me felt rather awful. We then went lack to the Pier to the others to break the news, but Miss Davis did not mind a

estiug to speak to. but the Norfolk dialect is really quite difficult to understand sometimes. One of the great tilings here are the cherries, which grow all about this bay, and are sold all over the town. I really think we eat them from morn till night. Does that not sound dreadful? But they are really so delicious. I hope this letter will interest you, but I am afraid not, because 1 have not told you anything much yet, have. I? But, then, there is nothing very nnteh to tell. I am not writing in the middle, of the paper because I thought it might be rather difficult to read. I am sorry to say I will have to end this soon, but I think I have told you about all we have done since we runic down. I will tell you what we do practically every day. Have breakfast at nine, go down to the sands, have our bathe, and stay there until nearly one o’clock. Then come home for lunch. After lumh sometimes we go for a walk, sometimes for a drive, or on the sands again. We. have dinner at half-past seven, ami after that we occasionally go on the Pier, but I think more often stay at home and go to bed. I must say an revoir now. with. love. I hope you will receive this letter safely. From Cousin Roie. [Deal- Cousin Roie—lt. was very pleasant to get another letter from you so soon, and you may be sure we have all been much interested in hearing of the lovely holiday you are having at Cromer. It is so many years since I was there I had forgotten the names of some of the places you mention, and also about the

cherries, though now you recall them, I remember vividly how very good they were, and what quantities of them we children used to eat. I don’t think we ever went that drive to Lord Sullield's place, but can imagine how lovely it was, as 1 know several other parks belonging to count}' families, and they are always beautiful. I suppose you can swim quite a distance after all your bathing? I forget whether you told me if you had learned or not, but fancy you did long ago, before you left Auckland. It. is quite a number of years since you began to write, is it not? And it seems quite an age since the day I last saw you driving up Shortland street, with your mother. You had been calling at the office for a moment—it was either one day or, at most, two before you left. I wonder what you are doing now the autumn has come again. All the trees will be shedding their leaves by the time this reaches England, and London will begin to get quite gay again as all the smart set come back from their shooting parties or their yachting cruises. At one time I was often in London during August, ami it used to be quite funny to go into the park and see no carriages or people, only some country cousins walking about sight-seeing. I am afraid my answer this week is very stupid, but I forget so much about Cromer that I cannot answer all the things you tell us about it. But never mind, it is your letter, and not my answers, that the cousins like to read after all, is it not? I often think I make the answers tiresomely long. Hoping to hear from you again soon. Cousin Kate.]

This article text was automatically generated and may include errors. View the full page to see article in its original form.
Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZGRAP19040917.2.78

Bibliographic details

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIII, Issue XII, 17 September 1904, Page 55

Word Count
4,780

CHILDREN’S PAGE. New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIII, Issue XII, 17 September 1904, Page 55

CHILDREN’S PAGE. New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIII, Issue XII, 17 September 1904, Page 55

Log in or create a Papers Past website account

Use your Papers Past website account to correct newspaper text.

By creating and using this account you agree to our terms of use.

Log in with RealMe®

If you’ve used a RealMe login somewhere else, you can use it here too. If you don’t already have a username and password, just click Log in and you can choose to create one.


Log in again to continue your work

Your session has expired.

Log in again with RealMe®


Alert