COUSINS’ CORRESPONDENCE.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIII, Issue XVI, 15 October 1904, Page 58

COUSINS’ CORRESPONDENCE.

Dear Cousin Kate, —You see we are Stilt at Cromer, and like it as much as ever. 1 have taken up golf, and like it immensely. Do you play? Another girl and 1 began at the same time, so it, was nice for us to play together. The other day a friend of mine gave a picnic. We went to a place ealted ‘’The Dion’s Mouth.” It is right in the Woods, and so very pretty. We went half-way in a donkey-cart, and some of tile others, bicycled. After lunch we had a paper chase, which was simply grand. Have you ever played this? I Mm sure you would cuoy yourself if you had one. Airini Carr, from Auckland; is coming to stay with me on Saturday, so I am greatly looking forward Io seeing her. I also have another friend coming to stay with me. t think. I am sorry to say we have only three more weeks down here, and we then will go home. Mother has bought me such a lovely bicycle, and I go for some awlully nice rides. To-day I went to a plaee called "The Garden of Sleep.” I suppose you know the song of the name name by Clement Scott. Well, it was composed in this plaee. There is really not very much to see there, excepting a very small ruin of a church in which one is not allowed to.go -and a < hurehyard, and some of the tombstones are very old. There was one there dated lT4ti, I think. The other day we went to Norwich. I have been there before, 'but still I enjoyed it very much. I think I have told you about it. There is a very old castle and cathedral there, you know. We saw a tombstone there dated 1520, or something like that, and I think some in the 14th century. Did I tell you that just before 1 left London I went alt over the Houses of Parliament, both Lords • nd Commons, and Westminster Abbey? T did enjoy myself so much, but it is dreadfully tiring looking over large places, do you not think so? 1 think my favourite place in (he Abbey win ♦he ‘•Poet's Corner.” I am reading ■ueli a pretty book, ‘ The First Violin." I suppose you have read it? I have nothing very interesting to tell you. Bo please excuse a Ault teller, but one dots not have very much news at the

seaside. There are such beautiful walks and rides in this place, and all the surrounding country is beautiful. I expect my next letter will be from London. Good-bye, Cousin Kate, until next mail. 1 ani getting quite a regular correspondent now, am I not ? —With love from Cousin Roie, London.

(Dear Cousin Roie, —-You are indeed becoming a most regular correspondent, and I can assure you we all appreciate the tact. I much enjoyed hearing about your picnic, and other excursions. I do not play golf, but often tnink I will begin. It seems a splendid game, and so many of my friends are members of the Auckland Ladies’ Golf Club. I expect you have been to the links at Cornwall Park, have you not? The views are perfectly glorious. We are all very proud that an Auckland girl. Miss Eileen .Lewis (I expect you know her), won the championship down South, and Mrs W. Bloom Held was runner-up. Do you go out on your bike now you are 'back in London? It is lovely' in the late autumn evenings. Yes, I have been on a “paper chase," and certainly did enjoy it. but am getting too lazy, or too old, to care much about it now. I expect you greatly enjoyed your visit from Miss Airini Carr, and had a long chat over mutual Auckland friends. I know Norwich fairly well. It is a nice old place. I must stop now. as there arc so many other letters to write this week.—Cousin Kate.]

Dear Cousin Kate, —I am sure you must think I am awfully lazy for not writing to you more, but honestly, Cousin Kate. 1 have been working hard lately in the day and going out a good ■leal at night, so that 1 have not had time to write to anyone. 1 wrote to Alison yesterday, and I have owed her a letter for such a long lime, but never mind. I will make up for lost time now. Last I hursday we had our hockey dance, and all hough the weather was against us, being very wet. it was a great success in every way. The committee of boys and girls decorated the hall ho prettily with ferns and flags, and dotted the hockey caps and sticks over the wall, which gave the room quite a pretty finish. 'The floor was very good indeed considering that the public school children had had school there for the last six months on account of their own being -burnt down. I have just read such a pretty book called “The A ears That the Locust Elath Eaten." Gave you read it, Cousin Kate? It is ■by Annie Holdsworth, and quite worth reading. It is very sad indeed, but I think that makes it all the nicer, as you don't waul books to end all the same way. I am reading another by tlie same author, but as I have only ‘begun it 1 cannot tell how I shall like it. We have been having such horrid weather here for the last few weeks, but to-day is a lovely bright clear day, so we hope it will keep like it for some time yet. Mount Egmont looks simply glorious to-day with its dazzling whiteness against the exquisite blue of the sky. When the hot weather comes I don't think the mountain ever looks so grand, as almost all the snow melts off if. I am glad summer is coming, though, aren't you. Cousin Kate? as I like the hot weather much better than the cold days of winter. In the evening we go for such lovely walks, and early in the morning can run down to the beach for a dip, and the day seems so beautifully long, while in the winter directly the office is closed I rush home and deposit myself before the lire, and stay there as long as I

can, as 1 never seem to keep warm. I ■believe we are going to have grand doings here at Christmas time. A carnival and exhibition to last for a fortnight. I suppose a great number of •strangers will be here, and the town itself will be quite busy. I just love being in town on Christmas Eve to see everybody bustling about with huge parcels tucked under their arms for .Santa Claus to put in the stockings. Oh! we generally have such a lovely time then, and such crowds of people laughing and talking together, everyone looking as jolly as possible. Now, dear Cousin Kate, I am afraid I shall have to stop now, with heaps of love to yourself and the cousins from Cousin Dora, New Plymouth. P.S. —I see you forgot to ask Cousin Roie about the post-cards, but I suppose you are too busy to remember everything, so never mind.

[Dear Cousin Dora,—l don’t think you at all lazy for not writing oftener, because I know how hard it is to find time to write letters when one is in the office all day, and out enjoying onesclf in the evening. Of course" I should like to hear from you oftener, but I really don’t expect to. There is a long letter from Alison this week, and you will be glad to hear that she has ‘got a billet, but she doesn’t know yet whether it is to be permanent or not. I am glad your hoekey danee was such a success. The hall must have looked very pretty, and it would have been very disappointing if it hadn’t after all your hard work; I haven’t read ‘The Years That the Locust. Hath Eaten, and if it is sad I don't want io. I think there is quite enough sadness in the world without making it worse by reading about, imaginary griefs. I can just, imagine how Mount Egmont looks. When I was in New Plymouth I never tired of gazing at it, and could never make up my mind quite how I liked it best. New Plymouth is going to be very gay at Christmas time. 1 wish I could come down and see it all. Have you ever had an exhibition there before? They are great fun J think.—Cousin Kate.]' * * * Dear Cousin Kate.—l went, out for a walk with father this afternoon. We went round Greenlane way. I am longing for the summer to come, so that we can go out for rides, and also for the holidays and other things, too. lam riot quite through the book “The Lamplighter,’' yet, I think 1 will read a chapter or two to-night. Have you o'er read it. Cousin Kate? 1 have not written to you for a good while, have I ? But you see 1 had the mumps. Do you get the magazine. “The New Idea”? Wo do. We go in for (he puzzles in it. It is school again to'-morrow. Oh, Ido wish we had another week. We. will have, to look forward to Christmas holidays now. and 1 hope the months will go quickly till they do come. I really have not much to say this week. And 1 hope you will excuse this very uninteresting tetter. 1 think 1 will close now. Cousin Kate. So, with love to all the cousins, and not forgetting your dear self, 1 remain, your loving cotfsin, Amy 8.. Auckland.

| Dear Cousin Amy,—.You must be quite a grand little walker if you can walk from your place to Greenlane and back. I hope you didn't get caught in any of those heavy showers, for it wouldn’t do for you to gel wet so soon after your recovery from the mumps. Summer is the best part of the year, isn’t it? I am looking forward to it, too, though 1 shan’t have six weeks’

holiday at Christmas-time like you will. Yes, I read “The Lamplighter’’ a great many years ago, but I’m afraid 1 have forgotten nearly-ail about it now. toU are taking a long time to finish it—don't you care for it very much? Ws always have “The New Idea"-in the office; it is a very good magazine, 1 think. I haven't noticed the puzzles iu them, I will look at them next time and see if I can make any of them out.—Cousin Kate.]

Dear Cousin Kate, —I have not written to you for the past few weeks, as there has been absolutely no news at all. We are very busy practisinb up for our annual music concert, which comes off on November 2. lam playing the triangle in the Toy Symphony, anil my little sister is playing the drum. I got such a lovely book the other day. called “The Girl of Galway,” it is by the same author as “The Handsome Brandons,” which 1 also have. They are both Irish tales, and awfully pretty. Have you seen the D.S.C. window. Cousin Kate? We were passing there today, and could hardly get near it; it is certainly very clever. They have the whole of the window filled with waters. and three or four boats steaming on it. We are going to “Sweet Lavender” next Tuesday evening. I think it ought to be very pretty. Father has seen it two or three times, and he liked it very much. Last Sunday evening I went over to North Shore. We caught the 5 p.m. boat over and the 9.30 back. I had supper at my cousin’s, who lias two such dear little children; the boy is five years old and the girl about 11 months. lam now going to leave off for to-night-, as I am rat-lfer interested in a book called “Blanche.” by Mrs Moleswort.il, and I have not had time to read it at all to-day.

Wednesday Morning.—Have just a few minutes to spare before I begin lessons to end this letter. Next, Monday evening I am going to a cantata in St. Paul’s schoolroom. I have been to one a few weeks ago, it was “Soot amt the Fairies,” and I.liked it .very much, the children acted so well. Have we not been having horrid weather? 1 think we deserve a good long summer to make up for it. Now, dear Cousin Kate. I am afraid I must close this short note until next week, with heaps of love to you all from Cousin Gwen.

[Dear Cousin Gwen.—l am glad to have a letter from you this week, because so many of the older cousins have written, and it will be nice to sea all your letters in print at once. Cousins Dora, Roie, Alison, and Carle have all written. You haven’t very much more time to- practise for your concert. The weeks seem to just fly at this time of the year, and before we know where we are it will be Christmas-time. I hope the concert will be a great success; it ought to be, and a toy symphony is always pretty, I think, don’t you? I haven’t read either “The Giri from t vatway” or “The Handsome Brandons,’ —■ who is the author? I saw the D.S.C. window when the boats were not steaming, but when they were there was such a crowd round the window that wo couldn't see anything. I wonder if “Sweet Lavender'-’ will be good; I have seen it twice before, but not by amateurs. It is very pretty indeed when it is well done. Did you get wet coming from the Shbre last Sunday? We went over in the afternoon and caught the 8.30 'boat, back, and got dreadfully wet. It was raining very hard about half-past nine, too. I suppose your mother is not back yet; don’t you miss her dreadfully?—Uousin Kate.]

Dear Cousin Kate.—l am not going to miss writing this week if I can help it. Last week I think I told you t would tell you how I spent my holidays. Monday I did not go out, a» Amy was pretty sick. Ou Tuesday I went to town with mother, and enjoyed myself very much. On Wednesday I went out’ with Nora; we had a grand time together. The following day we all went' to town, and enjoyed ourselves immensely. Friday being the last day of our holidays, we spent it at home. I only wish we were having another week. What do you think. Cousin Kate? AU the bees are dead; isn’t it simply awful? All the honey has been eaten out of the comb. Well, we will have to make the best of a bad job. We have neither cat nor bees now. Frightful, isn’t it? Amy has gone out for a walk with father this afternoon. We generally always go out for a walk on Sunday afternoon. I have not had the mumps

yet. Have you? 1 ftittst realty come to aji end, as I can’t possibly help it. The reason is, I haven’t anything more to say—to write, at. least. With fondest love from Mary 8., Auckland. [Dear Cousin Mary,—l hardly expect* ed to hear from you and Ainy this week. 1 thoaght you would be too busy preparing for your sister’s wedding. 1 hope yc'i will have a line day for it. We have had so much wet weather just lately that I really think we ought to have a few nice days now. A week’s holiday isn’t nearly long enough when one is having a good time, is it? 1 suppose you were very busy shopping all the time you were, in town? Some Of the shop windows are so pretty I think. You have been very unfortunate just lately; first your kitten disappeared: now all the bees are dead. I wonder what killed them? Have you ever seen the apiary up the line? It looks so pretty; all the bee hives are ■white, amt there are such a number of them all dotted about on the side of the hill. No, 1 have not had mumps yet. J wonder you did not catch them from Amy. Wouldn't it be dreadful if you got them now and. were unable to be bridesmaid at the wedding?—Cousin Kate.]

Bear Cousin Kate, —I am writing to thank you for the badge you sent me. 1 received it to-day (Tuesday*, 4th). You will be.sorry to hear that I have had the mumps; 1 eaught them at school. We went back to school on Monday, ISepteinber 26. One of the boarders had them, so I must have caught them; was in bed for three days; went to bed on Thursday night, and stayed there till Sunday afternoon. I am quite well now al) the mumps have gone. lam going back to school on Monday, 10th. V/hat are you going to do on Labour Bay? I think we are going down to town to see all the carts and all there is to see; then in the afternoon we will go into the Domain and see all the sports. Did you see the fire in St. Stephen's Avenue on Monday- afternoon 3 What a good job the people were not limit out . The firemen turned the hose on the children because they got up on W>e fence and broke it all down; it served them right. I am going to bed, so will say good-night. — Yours affectionately, Cousin Daisy, Parnell. [Dear Cousin Daisy,—l am glad you got your badge safely, and that you liked it. I don’t think I am sorry to hear that you have had the mumps. ■You know it is ever so much better to ■have them when yon are young, because then you don’t have them half so badly as you do when you are older; besides, they- are over now, and you can't - have them twite. I haven’t thought about Labour Day yet, and don't know what We are going to do. J like seeing the procession up Queenatreet in the morning; some of the exhibits are awfully good, but if it is a neally fine day 1 think I should like to spend the day- out in the country some; where. No, I didn’t see th," fire in St. Stephen's Avenue. 1 didn't even know there bad been one. Where was it? The children must have got rather a surprise when the firemen turned, the hose on them; they must have got awfully wet. —Cousin Kate.]

Dear Cousin Kate,—.l did not write to you last week because I did not have any news to tell you. This week we have holiday’s, so on Monday we went to Onchunga, and we had afternoon tea at Man Souci, and after, while waiting for the triuu, we saw the Rotoiti go out. and just as she had left the wharf a motor-ear came rushing down the road with a- passenger. The boat came baek so,that the gentleman could get on board. I heard when 1 came home that they had- gone out from town in nineteen minutes. It was lucky’ for some other people that the boat eame back, because a (rani brought some out ; and it was such fun to watch them running down the wharf. We went to my auntie's coming home, and Eva came in to spent? a few days with me. We are having such fun. We spent this morning making a woollen ball each, just to fill in . time. They are quite nice. Gladys is coming in on Friday until Sat urday, so I will; spend my holidays all right. Good-bye.—Cousin Lynda).

(Dear Cousin Lynda), — So many of the cousins cbinplain that they have had no news to tell mo (be last week or two. I wonder why it is? It is such n pleasant trip, 1 think, going out to Onehunga and having afternoon tea there, •specially when the West Coast bouts

are going, beeau.se' then there are ever so many more people . out there; the Sans Souci rooms are so pretty, ?«”• Isn’t it funny how there is nearly always some one late jfor a steamer? But 1 never knew that they would come back for them. I went down to see a ’Frisco boat off once, and the steamer left five minutes too soon, and there, were several people left behind, and one man who was not a passenger taken off. The steamer did not come back for them though, so they had to go off in a small rowing boat. Fancy going out to Onehunga in nineteen minutes! It was pretty quick work, wasn't it? You ought to enjoy your holidays very much having your cousins in to stay with you.—Cousin Kate.]

Dear Cousin Kate, —Is there going to be a letter competition ? 1 saw in the “Graphic” last week that a few of the cousins mentioned something about it, and 1 am hoping there is going to be, although I do not think 1 will have much ehanee of the prize, as 1 cannot write nice letters a bit. What niee interesting letters Ixirna writes, does she not? 1 have just been given a book called “The Old Curiosity Shop,” by Charles Dickens. Rave you ever read it, or heard of it? Mother had such a dear little canary sent to her about three weeks ago. He is such a funny little fellow; he comes down on tile bottom of the cage and pokes his head through the bars, and looks all round in sueli a cunning way. How funny Buster Brown’s friends are, don’t you think so? 1 wonder how they- draw it so that when you look at it upside down it makes another picture, as well as the one when you look at it the right way. Our eat is playing and running up and down the hall as if it was half-mad. My exam, is not put off after all, but Mr M oor (the examiner) will begin to examine the candidates on Monday, October 10, so I expect 1 will have been examined when 1 write my next letter, and I will tell you if 1 passed or not. It is getting rather late now, so 1 must say good-bye. With love from Cousin Betty. P.B.— Does it matter me writing on both sides of this paper?—B.G.

[Dear Cousin Betty,—We haven’t decided yet about the letter-writing competition for the cousins, because everyone has been so busy with the Christmas “Graphic” that we haven’t had (iine to think about it. However, 1 will ask the editor about it, and will let you know next week. I think you have as good a ehanee as anyone else for file prize, and your letters are very’ niee indeed, 1 think, xes, Lorna does write very nice letters indeed, but then she has had a good deal of practice, for she has been writing to me for a long time now. Is "The Old Curiosity Shop” the first book of Dickens you have read? I have read (hat one. and many others as well. Have yon got a name for the new canary yet? You are getting quite a collection of pefs by degrees. are you not? Well, Betty, 1 must close now, as 1 have not time to write any more this morning. It would be better if you could manage to only write on the outside sheets of the paper.-— Cousin Kate.]

Dear Cousin Kale, —Some while back 1 wrote you a letter, and have not as yet seen it in print. Did yon receive it. Cousin Kale? 1 was pleased to see my* story in print, though, the other week. I wrote you a letter yesterday, but missed the mail this morning, so' I tore it up, ami here I am writing you another one. Last week we had a football seven-aside tournament here, and nine teams competed. The Thirds have only one more match to play, and if we win that we will win the Third’s championship for this year. I wish some of the cousins would like to exchange postcards or stamps. Don't you think it would he a good idea, Cousin Kate, if some, of the cousins wrote to one another? It would, I think, be very interesting reading their letters in the “Graphic’ when they replied there instead of sending a reply. Of course, nil (he letters in the '‘Graphic” are very inti-resting now. but I think it would lie even more so it this idea was carried out. Lust Sunday 1 went to a place called Coreoron's Hill, and although it is a little way out of the town, I enjoyed my walk very much. There is a dwelling on the top, and I went to see the owner, accompanied' by my two little - sisters. He has a little dog, and we hail tine fun with him. There is a train line about half a mile long, mid we also enjoyed ourselves on this. It leads to a small forest, but we did

irof go the fuH <?i«tahrc out. He toll? my little sister he would let her into a sceret. so he took us into a sumll Irtish at the side of the tramline. He said he would show us a bird’s nest with a bird in it. We followed him into the bush and tried to keep very quiet for fear we would frighten the bird off the nest. What then do yon think was. our surprise when he showed us a hen sitting on ten eggs. It was a capital joke, and we laughed over it for a long while afterwards. This man is an expert gardener, and keeps a lovely garden, so Indore we went he gave us all a beautiful bunch of Howers. Labour Day, 12th of next month. There are sports on that date, but I don’t think I will go to them now. I was going to go and run in the Sheffield Handicap, but since I made up my mind I find out that it would cost me 6/ to enter and 3/ to accept my handicap for this race, so I have come to the conclusion it is better to stop out of the race than perhaps lose 9/ over it. 1 am going to a picnic to be held on t he hill 1 have just been telling you about. Here is a riddle. I was had over it the other day, so I will just tell it to yon to put you on your guard. I was asked what was the difference between a cabbage and a eart wheel. Now, of course, anyone can tell a cabbage from a eart wheel. I do. at any rate, but not thinking 1 said I did not know the real difference between them- I meant the difference he wanted to lit in with the riddle. “Well,” said he, "you would be a nice one to go to the simp for sixpence worth of cabbage and bring home a eart wheel.” But I had my revenge. The same person asked me to go to a party, and I went. He asked me could I play, and after a minute’s he-.itati'on I told him I eould. “Good,” said he. “play something at the party. What do you play?” 1 said the mouth organ. He told me he would find the mouth organ, and everything was settled. A the party he asked me to get up anil play, and handed me the mouth organ. I looked at him in wonder, and laughed outright, and asked him what iie wus up to. He asked me didn't 1 intend to fulfill my promise. “Oh, yes,” 1 said. “I promised yon I would play the month organ, so 1 will, but I am sorry yon will have to wait until supper time,” Everyone else in the room saw the joke, and we hud a good laugh, but he asked me why I had played this sort of trick on him. To this I simply answered hm by asking him “What price eart wheels?” He dropped to it al once, and told everyone else in the room t he reason 1 was paying him baek in Ills own coin. I van play the piano, but still, Cousin Kate, I think the mouth organ is the Lest, of all instruments to play, don’t you? The Salvation Army Biorama Company was around here last week, and was very good. Swimming is just starting here, so now Will he the time to enjoy one’s self. I only started swimming last year in earnest. Now I ean swim fairly well, and I can dive, too. 1 must now close with love to you and all the cousins.— Yours truly. Carle. [Dear Cousin Carle. It is some considerable time since I heard from you

J ao T have came 'to the conclusion that jour last letter must have gone astray. However, you have written me siiru a loi.»g one this time that it has made up for the last one. 1 am quite anxious to hear if the Thirds have won their championship or not. so be sure to tell me next time you write. 1 think several of the cousins have written about exchanging stamps and postcards, but 1 don't think any of them have got beyond that yet. 1 haven't had time to consider whether it would be a good idea for the cousins to write to one another, but I should think it Would be worth trying, and thru if it wasn't a success we could leave it off. I hope we shall have a iine day for Labour Day, and I certainly think we deserve one. as we have been having such miserable weather lately. Isn’t it rather early for picnics yet in your part of the world? I’m afraid you will iiml it rather cold. You managed to get even with your friend, and it was very clever of you to think of that way of doing it. Have you been writing any more stories lately? Cousin Kate. | 4* 4* 4* Dear Cousin Kate, — 1 expect a ••Graphic” soon with my letter in if, as Dora promised to post it, so, though 1 haven’t seen your answer yet, 1 am sending you this letter so that it will reach yon about the same time as the “Graphic” arrives in Capetown. Cousin Beatrice, who has all (hose pets, is very lucky. I love animals as much as she does, but am not able to keep any here. My only cat. Jane by name, died when she was about seven months old, but I hope to get a dog soon. Did you ever see our old dog Tip sitting on the high fence at “Claybrook”? You seem to know us, so perhaps you do remember him. Pool old fellow, he died two months before we left; my brother had him on the beach, where Tip must have eaten some poisoned meat, and he died the same night. Cousin Roie wrote to you a little while ago. too, and isn’t she lucky to be travelling? 1 wonder if she remembers when she played “Knuckle Bones” in the shed by the well at Miss Hull's school? That and “1 spy 1” were her strong points in games. Cousin Gwen |Auckland) evidently enjoyed “The letters of a Self-made Merchant. I thought it was a line book too, and such a change from the usual run of books. Who is Betty, who lives near our old home? The American squadron is here at present, and great is the excitement thereof. Flags everywhere with “stars and stripes," and numerous thin sailors all over town. The Brooklyn is one of the boats. She was in Auckland about three years ago. One of the omcers we know very well there wrote to our address, which he found in the directory, asking mother if she was the Mrs. S., of Now Zealand, he knew so well? Since then we have seen a good deal of him. To night we are having a walking picnic, to which he is coming, too. Jt. ought, to be fun all the way by the sea, in the moonlight. Most romantic, isn’t-it? To-day tho fourth New Zealander who has passed through since we arrived met us. It is grand seeing faces you have

known Is-fore. A'thctigh I have been going up Table Mountain so often it has never come to anything, and last week I hail arranged to “make the aseent,” having had thick soles pul on my shoes for the occasion, but when I awoke in the morning a lively south caster was blowing

and later on the rain “made the descent.’’ W’c made the same arrangements for next week, but it is sure to be wet, for although we have had a particularly dry winter the week-end is always a failure. (A few clays latr.) Two “Graphics” have just arrived, so T thought them a good hint to help me to finish this letter. Itora’.s photograph was splendid—it is the same as one she sent me. One cousin says she looks younger than she thought, so she is in reality younger, that is, than she is. (That sentence might be a little clearer without being too plain, I am afraid.) Dora is really one of the nicest girls anyone could wish to know and have for a ehum. and with absolutely no nonsense about her. I have begun my collection of wild flowers al last, having been given a huge office diary, unused, with blotter facing each page, which is just the book for pressing flowers in. I wilt get li few specimens of each flower at first, and then thin them out by degrees till I have only otic or two of the ordinary wild ones. (If course South Africa is just the place to begin collecting in, because there nrc over 100 different specimens of heath alone, there being 70 in Caledon.- I’ve been promised some (lowers from Buenos 'Ayres, so I hope they arrive. I must ask for some clematis, f think, from some. New Zealander who lives near a bush, and would love some kowhai and rata if they Xyere possible to press. Poor little Norma! I do pity her too, and wish I could send her .something io cheer her up, but as only post cards and stamps are available, am lather afraid they would not have much power to “cheer,’’ as she would be too young to collect. It was interesting reading the letter from the little South African girl, and I wish 1 could persuade some of the girls I know lo join the “band.” You have quite a variety of cousins, young pud old, girls and hoys, living at home (that is. New Zealand) and abroad. For the first time since leaving Auckland I had a short ride on a horse. I can't ride properly, only being able to stick on. but it is my idea of bliss to have a horse and lie able to do more than stick on. The following day, dear Cousin Kato, stiff was not the word for what your beloved “relation" felt—and starch is not a still' enough

comparison. For four days my short walk up town .seemed endless, but to-day I feel more “limp.” Did I tell you that my latest attraction in the book line was the ♦ Hoad Mender,” by Michael Fairliss? it is only quite short, and not exactly a Story. If you haven’t read it, and do, be sure you tell me. and your opinion of it. To me it is lovely, and the little bits hbout flowers and Nature in general are perfect. I want, to gel "'Hie Gathering of Brother llilarius,” by the same author. Please excuse this if I wrote it in my last letter, because I have so many to write that it is hard to remember. What a dear little story that is in the “Graphic” about r.mmy I,on and the spelling medal. Kilty isn’t the only person unable to spell ♦ receive is she? I’ve finished “Esmond,” run in the midle of “Pendennis,” and have been given a copy of “Vanity Fair,” so am well set up, and might be said, when I have lead them. Io have “improved iny inind.” They are the first and only ones of Thackeray I’ve read, and I simply enjoy every page, and wonder how I ever looked at crowds of books I have lately devoured. I hough I am positive I will go hack to them. The only book I truly detest is a love story. Nome are very prettily written, and then it is all right—like the “Star Dreamer.” This letter is very dry. but I haven’t been anywhere lately. For three weeks 4 have been working for a firm whose typist is ill, and as to-morrow is the eml of the month, I am rather anxious to hear if I am to be kept on or not. It is a good firm, and the work is always plentiful, especially on mail-day, Wednesday. when I work nt the typewriter from a quarter to nine till after the mail is done, about a tittle after two. go home for luncheon, and then return. Last Saturday I had io work till three o’clock to finish some letters for the Buenos Ayres mail. I felt most delighted to spend Saturday afternoon that way, as you may imagine. Still, if I am kept on I don’t mind anything, because everybody is so polite and does such a lot for me: and

last, but not too late, the salary is a little over £lOO per year, which is fair just now ilium no billets are to tie had, though many typists gel from £lO to £l2 in a good firm. How I envy my “Argus” sister! She gets two press tickets for every opvv-y and theatre, sometimes going three

nights in the week. She has to go to make little notes, though the plays have all been reported properly, and she and I can’t go alone, so mother or my brother takes her. To-night she is seeing “Old Heidelbnrg” played by Sass Nelson’s company. I would so like to see Cathrine Pole again, and of course she is acting in it. (To-morrow is mail-day.) The “Voice,” which is being published in Auckland, seems an interesting little magazine—such pretty little pieces here and there, and altogether has something about everything. Auckland is coming ahead with her papers. At Three Anchor Bay, where we get into the tram every day, Hie road is being cut up to lay pipes for water and gas to the exhibition grounds. First, huge channels are cut deep down, great piles of clay are heaped upon both sides of these ditches, which again are on each side of the road, so when the rain arrives, as it never fails to do when not wanted, the road is a lovely pond of mud, with pools on the footpath to fall into. 1 was getting off the Sea Point express car last week, and had forgotten about the elay, so as I jumped off I saw it, and was not decided where to put my foot. 1 finally landed on the top of one heap, from which I promptly slipped, and, deciding it was better to put out my hand to stop myself than sit down on it, f did so, and carried away a few hundredweight of road, mixed with water and mud. Of course it was raining, and of course people 1 knew were riding on the express. Last time I wrote I asked for Cousin Olive's address, but if too many have written to her I hope she will tell me. f'd like to write to some of the cousins if they feel inclined to send me letters. It is such a good way of getting to know each other. Now, dear Cousin Kate, I decided this was to l>e a short letter, but alas, this is the fifth page, none of which contain any news. Good-bye, I must stop. With love to all the cousins; love to yourself too, Cousin Kate, ami thanks for your long answers to my letters. From Cousin Alison. [Dear Cousin Alison, —Thank yon very much indeed for your nice long letter. I cannot imagine how you manage to do your work, keep up your own private correspondence, and still find time to write so much to me. Tell me the secret of it next time you write, will you, dear Alison ? For lately I haven’t been able to find time to write to my oldest friends. You are such a busy person that I’m afraid you wouldn’t have time to enjoy your pets even if you did have some. I remember your old dog very well indeed, and have often seen him sitting on the fence down Brighton road. Cousin Roie is very fortunate to be travelling about and seeing so much. Perhaps we shall all be equally lucky some day; any way. we will hope so. I wonder if either of you could play “knuckle bones” now? Yon guessed Betty's other name quite correctly. Betty is such an uncommon name nowadays that you ought io have guessed it quite easily. A squadron in port docs cause a great deal of excitement, doesn't it? We have had the French warship Prolet in just lately, and the Phyche and Clio too. I wonder if your sister remembers the night we were all invited to the American Consul’s to meet the officers of the Brooklyn. Your collection of wild flowers should prove very’ interesting. I’m afraid I can't send you the clematis, kowhai and rata, but perhaps some of the cousins will see this and send some in for you. You will be glad to hear that Norma is quite well again. I can quite imagine your feelings after your ride. I have experienced them often myself, but. it doesn’t stop me from going for a ride the next opportunity I get. f haven’t come across the “Road Mender” yet,” or “The Gathering of Brother llilarius” either; but your praise of them has made me quite anxious io get them. A fall in tire street such as you describe does make one feel so undignified, doesn't it? I am so glad to hear you have got such a nice position, and hope it will be a permanent one, and the salary seems to me to be very’ good indeed for a beginning. 1 used to think it was lovely lining able to go to the theatre every night if I liked, but now that I have got list'd io it I never go unless there is something particularly good to see. Well, Alison, 1 really must stop now, as there are ever so many more letters to answer. — Cousin Kate.]