COUSINS’ BADGES.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXV, Issue 9, 2 September 1905, Page 50

COUSINS’ BADGES.

Cousins requiring badges are requested to send an addressed envelope, when the badge will be forwarded by return mail. t —— - corsixs’ coiuiespondence. Dear Cousin Kate.- I read with great pleasure your exceedingly kind reply to Sny last week’s letter. .Mother remembers. I do not. the lire at Madame Tussauds; hut as the lire was confined to tin- basement .she does not think the Napoleon relic* were injured. I /{id not see them, as they are. im-ltided in ;h:it part of the building called rhe Chamber of Horrors, which I was not allowed to see. but mother Ims told me about them. I did not see the London Zoo. but I have seen the one in Melbourne. I saw’ the Botanic Gardens in London. W’c were staying with a friend who was a member, or Fellow, as t hey are called, of the Royal Botanic Society. w iio gave lIS a number of signed slips of admission *o that we might drop in when w e liked tor a rest, or tea. or on special days to a fete, or one of Ben < I reel ’s pastoral plays. 'I he*e hist one had to pay to see. These gardens are one of Ihe lung- of London. She has more lungs than we have, has she not? Did you not think (ousin Ellie’s letter an inter esting one? What a steep grade; I would not be a tiuckie f<n the world. Life would seem to be a round of switchbacks, without its novel! \ and immunity from danger. Ha\e \on read a book called ""The Man From Glengarry,” by Ralph lommr? I should think it would interest ( ou-in Ellie. It is a story of the lives of lumber-men. a name given in America to the men who fell the great trees, convert them into logs, and drift them down the river* at the Hood tide-. 11. is a very powerful story, and if yon have not rend it I will try to de-cribe it in iny next letter. I saw by your reply to Cousin Stella that you wire going to see Miss 'l it tell Brune in "L’Aiglon.” How did you like her in it? .Mother, my brother, and I went. I thought her superb. Not once dhl she betray the fact (though wo watched her closely) that iba was a woman and only acting a part.

She was really for the time being L’Aiglon. The play made us doubly sad, because we have in England a little friend who is the son of a famous father, and he is threatened with spinal curvature, and has to lie for hours each day on his back in a steel surgical jacket. He has the brain of a man, and is always planning the great campaigns, he will carry out when he is better. He wants not only Europe, but the world, ami these ambitions of his. acting on his frail body, are hindering any chance of his recovery: and so through our real knowledge of the utter futility of a boundless ambition, unbacked by great moral and physical strength.. we could follow the Eaglet to the bitter end. well knowing what that end would be. I should have liked Flambeau very much, but for one thing, and that was his. unsoldier-like behaviour to Prince Metternich. Everyone, to say nothing of every soldier, knows that Hie two chief things required of a soldier, are obedience and respect to his superiors, and "’Pass Devil” would scarcely be the reply of Ihe rawest recruit, even though Satan himself should pass that way; and that an old campaigner like Flambeau should lose sight of what might be called the A.B.C. of his profession was. we thought, a great mistake. I could not help laughing all the same, but mother said, indignantly, one does nof go to "’L’Aiglon’’ to laugh. I did not care much for any of the other character*, except the Emperor. My grandfathers died before I was born, hut I should have liked a grandfather like him. The scene I thought the prettiest was where the bright moonlight failed into dawn; and the one I thought most gruesome was the “Field of Wagram.” The semi-darkness, the phantom army, the battle smoke, and the frail spectre haunted figure lying on the cold bloodstained ground. It was a relief when the curl ain went down, ami we awoke to the knowledge that it was only make-belief. I think 1 told you in my la-t letter of a short second visit I paid to London. Well, it came to an end rather sooner that was at liyst intended, as mother wanted to pay a Hying visit to Essex, so I was packed off t<> Rugby, and from there to spend the rest of my school holidays at my uncle’s iu Derbyshire. But before I tell you of that I must tell you of a concert I wf.it to on the Sunday evening before having town. It was given in Queen’s Hall, Langham Place, by a society called the Rational Sunday League. This League was formed for the purpose of giving those people who do not and never will go to church heal! hy and rational amusement on Sunday evenings. All the «<rti*ls give their services gratuitously, we were told, and al eight, o’clock in a certain part of the hall the people are admitted free, I< is the largest, and. f think, the most be.au th'nJ concert hall in London. The night I was there it was literally packed, and lopkvd in the distance like a piece of mosaic, it being summer, and everyone wearing such gay cost nines. ‘ First we had a concerted piece, and then a recitation by an actress (whose name I forget), called “Lorraine Lorve.’’ It was doubly interesting* both for the reason that it was the last poem ever written by Charles Kingsley, and also that it was the first time I had ever heard a recitation nccoinpankd by niu-ic. 'fhe recitation is such a good one, and is so little known, that I have ventured to semi it to you for the Cousin*’ page. Then we had a cycle of

sings, called, “The Daisy Chain,*’ composed by that lovely song writer, Eliza Lehman. In this cycle there is one song called “The. Swing,” and it was rendered so realistically by the artist that a little child in the gallery screamed with delight, and shouted “Again, again,” which simply convulsed the house, and they insisted on the singer singing it again, which she generously did twice. Altogether it was the best concert I ever went to, and I hope to go again to Queen’s Hall some day. To return to Derbyshire, I may say that I was staying within easy walking distance of Matlock Bath. Zakewell, Haddon Hall, Chatsworth. Eyam (famous in the history of Derbyshire as the place nearly depopulated by the great plague of London breaking out there). We have a photograph of the Cross (Runic style) that was erected in Eyam Churchyard to the memory of its heroic vicar and his band of brave helpers, and lastly, but not least, wc were very near Lea Hurst, the home of Florence Nightingale. It is a (plaint old fashioned gabled house, with wooden knobs on each gable for ornamentation. Father has a letter from Miss Nightingale in his possession, if ever our competitions include an exhibition I will get him to send it to us. We have several good photographs of Lea Hurst, given to us by our uncle,

whose greatest hobby (he rides them all well i is photography. If you like, dear Cousin Kate, 1 will get him to semi you a good one of it. Another day we went for a picnic to a place named Robin Hood’s Stride. Of course you know, dear Cousin Kate, that in that part of the country were situated Rubin Hood’s favourite haunts. What is called the Stride are two huge masses of rock some distance from each other, in one of which was Robin’s cave, and in this cave was concealed the entrance to a subterranean passage, which led to only, Robin knew where. The story goes that one day. standing on top of the rock in which the cave was not. he espied a party of soldiers -sent by the King to deliver an invitation to Robin to attend his court. Now. as invitations to court in those days, as well as in these, were commands, Robin (being nothing, if not a courtier) did not see his way clear to accepting the iiivitation. as he had reason to believe that the visit might be too extended for his liking; so to escape receiving the invitation personalty, he strode from one rock to the other, and so escaped by the secret passage, and “Gone away, present address not known.’’ was the only answer the soldiers could convey to the King. Mother, on looking at the distance between the two rocks, said that Robin must have been wearing a pair of the seven ?eague boots we read of in “Jack the Giant Killer.” I am afraid, dear Cousin Kate, you will think me very frivolous, but the tales the country people tell you about their by-gone celebrities arc too funny for anything. With love io yourself and all the cousins. I remain, your loving cousin, Hilda (Ponsonby). [Dear ( ousin Hilda, —Your letter is again most interesting, and will be greatly enjoyed by the cousins* The Botanical Gardens are very pretty, are they not? Were you ever there when there was a rose show being held? The Howers are exquisite beyond description. and the scent of the roses in the vast tents where they are exhibited most delicious. There used to be such a crowd of beautiful and exquisitelydressed women, too. I think nowhere in all the world do you see such lovely women as in London during the season. I used never to tire of the Park at the fashionable hour, just watching the people pass. It was always so gay, so debonnaire. so picturesque a pageant, and all one had to pay was the penny for the ehair. London is the place for cheap amusement, is it not? What can

be more delightful or costs less in ratio to the pleasure received than a ride round on the top of an omnibus, or a trip on a Thames steamboat? 1 greatly enjoyed .Miss Tittell Brune in •‘L’Aiglon,” and also in “Sunday.” She was also very good as .Juliet. The book you mention 1 have not yet read, but must try and get it from the Library, as you recommend it so highly. I have l>een reading the “Marriage of \\ illiam Ashe,” by Mrs Humphrey Maid, but though clever and very interesting, it is not a book which you should read, as the subject is not a pleasant one for young girls to study. “The Chai loners,” by Benson, is clever and deeper than some of his books, it was very sad to hear of your poor young friend. A sister of mine was strapped,to a board for two years when she was about four or live years old. A nurse let her fall, and was frightened to tell for a few hours; it was only when my mother returned from a dinner party and found the child in agony that she confessed. Aly sister got well, I am glad to say, and has half a dozen little tots of her own nowadays. I fear I must stop now. as there are several letters to answer, including a capital one from Cousin Alison.—Cousin Kate.] 4* 4* 4* < Dear Cousin Kate. — 1 saw my letter in last week’s “Graphic,” and the nice answer you wrote to it. You asked me whether the: canoe my father brought me was Ing enough for me to sit iti Nd, I cannot sit in it, but it makes a good ornament for the walls. J passed into standard 111., and had to get all my new books, some of which have a lot of nice little stories in them. 1 have a few postcards, some of winch are very pretty.—l remain, your loving cousin, Jack (Parr). [Dear Cousin Jack,—l am glad you liked your letter last week, though it was not very Jong, was it? Are you going to collect postcards, too? So many of the cousins do; you should ask them to exchange with you. Some of the postcards arc lovely, I think, especially the coloured ones, and some of them are very funny. I always want to buy any I see with pictures of cats on them. The cats look so soft and fluffy, ami so very mischievous. How you must be. to have passed your examinations. It is so nice to start on fresh books, and if they have stories in them it must be lovely. It was an amusing idea to think you could use a canoe that was only meant for an ornament, and you never told me what the club was like—is it meant for an ornament, too?—Cusin Kate.] 4* 4* 4* ! Dear Cousin Kate, —I wish to ask you to Jet me join the “Graphic” cousins. My sister lias lately joined, and sent you several letters, and you saw she may a prize when she has sent 12 letters. I do not want a prize, but I think I can tell you a few tilings the other cousins 'might like to read. I liave just turned sixteen, and had a birthday party about a fortnight ago. I am at business witli father from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m., so "do not have so much time as my sister, who goes to school. Father picked up a violin at a sale.„and T am having lessons. I am getting on fairly, and can manage several small airs. I am making a fretwork machine from a diagram in a library book I got from

the Y.M.C.A., where I go to the gymnasium.—L’ousin Lyn, Ponsonbv. | Dear Cousin Lyn,—l am very phased that you wish to join our band, and shall be delighted to add your name to the list, especially so if you write as good letters as your sister. I am sorry that 1. could not answer your letter last week, but it came in late, and I was busy. What Jong office hours, you liave! Don't you get very tired of being in town all day like that? I really think the schoolgirls have the best time after all; they liave so much more time to amuse themselves. You must be getting on very well with your violin lesson to liave started to play airs. The violin always seems to me to be the hardest instrument of all to play, and requires such a tremendous amount of practice. I wonder how you find the time. Please tell me how you make a fretwork machine, ami how you are getting cm with yours; it must be very liard to make one from a diagram. Do you go in for wood-carving, or are you making the machine just to amuse yourself? Would you like to have a badge? —Cousin Kate.] 4* 4* 4* Dear Cousin Kate, —I was very glad to see my letter in last week's “Graphic.” We are going to have our examination next week- I will be glad when it is over, as there is a lot of homework to do. There is a technical school being built here. We have had such bad weather lately, and it is a very dull night. The scenery isn't very pretty about Westport. Whitebait arc coming into Westport now; they are very early this season. There is going to be a hockey match here on Thursday next, ladies against men. 1 am reading a book called “The Pioneer Boy.” Have you ever read it. Cousin Kate? There were, a lot of cousins’ letters in last week’s “Graphic,” don’t youthink? L think this is all the news, so good-bye, with love to you and all the other “'Graphic” cousins from Cousin Jack, Westport. [Dear Cousin Jack, —I do hope you will pass your examination. It is such hard work preparing for them; I know I used to hate them- and they seem to come so often, don’t they? Are you going io the technical school when it is finished? We liave had such a lovely winter this year, scarcely any very wet days, so we have been luckier than you have. I have never read “The Pioneer Boy.” Is it very interesting, and who wrote it? Yes, I think our cousins’ letters are increasing; we will soon want another page. What was the result of the hockey match, and what handicap did the men have? Be sure you tell me next time you write. I don't know very much about whitebait, but 1 am very fond of them when they are cooked, aren’t you?—Cousin Kate.] 4* 4* 4* Deal’ Cousin Kate, —You will be beginning to think me a very bad correspondent, but really I have had very little time lately, and also my usual cry, “no news.” Our school examination is quite over now. I passed my standard, and am now in the sixth. I told you in my last letter that we were probably to do the pole-drill at another concert. Y es, we did the drill, ami ;• great success it and other items were. So successful were we that a lady threw such a lovely bouquet to us. This same* lady is to take our photographs down at her place next Saturday with our concert dresses

on. Do you not think that is very kind of In i ? One of my girl friends has K*< n very ill with rheumatism lately. 1 do i<< 1 sorry for her; it must be -<> pain fid. To-day mother took me over to the Luk<* to a friend's place. We left hoim at al'iait 2.30. and caught the three o'clock boat across io North Shore. We then went in the motor 'bus to Lake lakapuna. I think it is so dangerous the way those 'buses spin along the Lak ■ road. Really 1 felt quite frightened. When we had been at our friend's place for a few hours we returned home, after spending a very pleasant afternoon. Have you lh eii to any operas lately ? I Lave not been to one for a long time now, but I hope to go to one shortly. Well. dear Cousin Kate. I must say good-bye now. with much-love to yourself. and all the cousins.— From Cousin Lari ne (Ponsohby). ! Dear Cousin EiiT?!ii\ —What a relief it must be to have the examinations over and to know you have passed. I am glad the poll* drill was such a success, and I hope tlie photo will lx* a, good one. The road to the Lake is very bad, 1 know, but I don't think there is any danger. As for the ’buses, they don’t go half fast enough to please me. I love being whizzed along as fast as ever I can go; it is sc exciting. I am so sorry for your pool little friend. Why don’t her pu pie take her up to To Arolia or Rotorua to see if the baths would do her any good? but. perhaps, she is too ill to be moved yet. There have not been any opera companies here lately, but I have been tc see Tittell Brune, and enjoyed it vciy much: thougn her first two plays were Aery sad. I hone you will like your new standard.—Cousin Kate.] 4* 4* 4* Dear Cousin Kate, —I would like to have Cousin Fthyll's address, so that I could exchange post-cards with her, as

I mi- ly her letter that would vxrhang* with some <»f the cousins. 1 think that it i< <‘\ei‘r<ling|y interesting vollei <iiig them far mint* m» than stamps. Father has returned inmi Ngaruawahiit. He thinks ii i-, \ -i\ quirt, but very pretty. It is th« tiist time that he has ixen there. What delight lul letter- Cousin Hilda writes’ She must have a wry good m-. im ry t<» » member (‘verytiling sh.» has sei n. I -incerely wi<h that I bad a talent like hers. I am afraid that my talents do not lie i* that direction. Wo have a n.*w game (Mill'd Kismet. I like playing it il l win, but it is wry annoying if one loses. However, I suppose someone mu>t lose, so that is Mime consolation. I have just read “(Tystabcl." by F. J. Worboise, Good bye.—Cousin Muriel (Auckland). I Dear Cousin Muriel,—(*ollr. ting post cai'd.s ir becoming v.uite a rage, nearly ev:rv one I know -reins to w.nt them. Stamp-, collecting i- such hard work. I think. Fvery on-* is delighted with Ciiisin Hilda's letters they are reaily wonderful. Like you. I wish I could’ write like that. I have not played Ki--niet at. all. How do you play it ? I don't suppose anybody likes losing, but as you say. somebody must lose, ann it would be drpadful to let ihe loss < i a game w?,rvy us or make us angry, wouldn’t it? J suppose you were not so sorry’ that xon (ould not go with your I d her to Ngat h iwal;ia. when you lu . r.i it wns su quiet. I like going Io liv. l\ places tor inv ’.eiicays. don’t you? Cousin Kthyll's aiidr* ss is Ethyll Cuthbert. I’o-t Oilirc, Jamieson. Victoria.— t’--n-! , i Kate.] Dear Cousin Kate. Here I am again writing to you, altlmugh I have mu. yet seen my last letter in “The Graphic.” I wonder if you receivid it. as I think it would have been in before now if you

bad. Tin* weather here is simply horrid, ami lims Ijeen all the week. It U Grand National week. and there are thousands of people in town for the races. To day is 11n* last day. so 1 suppose the town v ill soon be <|ttiet again. Last Monday night wa- tin* opening of the new King Edward Barracks. Every night thia week a huge military circus and equestrian drama has been running in the barracks. I hear the circus is very good, but noth- <»l its lias been, as it is such a Jong way. The 17th of this month was set aside as Arbour Day this year. The children from the different schools planted trees on the Governor’s Bay road. The road has been <li\ided into sections, and every year one section will be planted. It will Im* very pleasant walking over to Governor's Bay when the trees grow. It wa> such a pretty sight, to see the children marching up the hill. The did’crenl squads of boys carried shovels on their shoulders, and they all wore Hitch vein important looks, conscious as they were that I hr main business of the day rested on them. ‘The day was dull, but happily there was no rain, or I am afraid the thousands of children and grown ups would have cut a very sorry appearance. Of course the planting of the trees under tin* direction of several well known experts. The electric cars did a I remeiidous business. Many of the* ehildien enjoyed their first ride in them. Tnerc is no theatrical company here just imw. Professor Andrews is at pr<**»(*nt at the* theatre* conducting liquid air experiments. The company with him N a very good one. 'there are two society entertainers, who entertain the people like tin* late* Mel. B. Spurr. They did mil do a very big business at the! begiiinhig of the week, as they had taken a very small hail out of the centre of the* town, but I think now that they have taken the theatre* they are doing better. Didi says Professor Andrews himself is marvellous, lie makes chocolate creams ice-creams, etc., in a few minutes with the* liquid air. I think wo are* going to-night. To-morrow if it is line our gymnasium class is going to walk over the hills to Governor’s Bay. If We* go I will te‘ll y6u all about it next week. I hid a long interesting letter from < ousii) Alison yesterday. She savs she* is writing to you. so I will look for her letter in 'l’he Graphic*' this week. 1 read with interest ( uiisin Hilda's letter in last week’s 'Graphic.” What a lucky girl sh<* i- to have* travelled so much. I wonder whal has become of Cousin Carle lately. I hive missed his riddles and jokes. It g.ivc-iii<* great pleasure to see so many Idlers in th* last ‘•Graphic.” It would lie* much more* interesting if the cousins wrote us regularly every week. I am sorry CmiMn Id i is suffering from chilblains. | think they must be awful ; but, thank goodness, this child hasn't, yd experienced them. I received some* aw full} pretty postcards from a girl friend in Ireland. (inc was a pretty Kerry serin*, and tin* other the National Library. Dublin. I think Ireland must be a lovely country, judging from the postcards Kathleen sends me. I saw some pretty poMcirds of Miss Tittell Brum* in a shop to-day. I must get some this afternoon. By the wav. has Miss Brune arrived <n Auckland yet? I am sure you mu'l al l he looking forward to her visit, and I do not think ynn will be disappointed in her. I think a good way of get ting some more cousins for our page would li to give a prize to the cousin who brought the most new cousins to join the baud. Do you think it feasible. Cousin Kate? A good competition to encourage the younger cousins would be to ever} week prut the names of the neatest writers. ;*• d at th:* end of a certain lime .give ><m:; so.; «.f n prize (.j the cousin whose mine u.r-t often app ars in that linn*. ()i • •>;*.•-.* th.* oftencr the competitor wtui’d v >!. ■ the hotter chance hr or slir would have. I don't know if I have made quite (dear what I mean, hut I am

a terrible “duffer” at explaining things. Well, dear, Cousin Kale, I suppose you are tired of this long, and 1 am afraid, uninteresting, letter, ao 1 will bid you an revolt. Love to all. From your ever affectionate Cousin Winnie (Christchurch i. [Dear Cousin Winnie, —1 can’t understand abor.v your letter at all. Perhaps it has lxn*n put in since you wrote. What a pity it was such horrid weather for the race week. A fine day makes such a difference. 1 know I always feel much happier on a bright day. don’t you? Did you enjoy Professor Andrews very much? I don't think anyone* could be as amusing as Mt I. B. Spurr. He was just splendid. I saw him two or three times, and each time I laughed till I ached. I don’t think I would like to touch chocolate creams made by Professor Andrews’ method. All the saint* I hope he will conn* here, as I would like to see him. Tittell Brune is here now. and is having packed houses every night. I wanted to see “Merely Mary Ann’’ most of all, but unfortunately they are not going to play it here. J am so disappointed. I was delighted to get a long letter from Cousin Alison to-day. She is a very faithful correspondent. I am glad to say, and we should all miss her letters. I think it must be examination time with most of the cousins just now. because so many of them have missed writing this week: but w<* have not heard from Cousin Carle for weeks. I hope lie has not quite forgotten us. I wonder how many of th<* children's frees will grow; the\’ should, as they were all planted under the direction of experts. I am thankful to say I have never had chilblains either; but I cm quite imagine that they are extremely painful. How many postcards have you now ? if it is still increasing by thirties, it will soon overflow the house. I should think. Yes. Miss Brune has arrived here, and is playing to packed houses. I am very anxious to sec “Sunday”—l have heard so much about it. I think both your ideas are very good, and I will a>k nu* editor it thev are feasible. —Cousin Kate.] •F 4* 4* Dear Cousin Kate, — 1 have just seen my last letter, but was sorry it arrived when you were away, because 1 didn't have an answer from you, and that is the best part. I think I deserve a long answer to this, please. if_you have any spare lime. Did you enjoy your holiday? 1 hope so, because you have such lots of work that it would be a pity not to have a good holiday when you do go away. What a few’ letters the cousins have sent you latelv; th.ev used to write so often, and long letters, too. I love getting the “Graphic” now because it has so many stories to read - —it seems to improve every months, and those post-cards are lovely. 1 had a grand long letter from Cousin Minnie by last mail, and answered it direct Iv. She is a good correspondent, don’t you think? Lately we have been having most glorious weather, quite like tin* line winter days in Now Zealand. Me have made the most of every i:;e Salurdav and Sunday by going for long rides. \\. <• spent one whole Sundav by riding about live miles past a place cilied Milneiton. The road is splendid, with trees on both sides, and low bills in front.. \\ <• ate our luncheon under some of the trees on the side of fin* road, ami discovered a pond white with those lovely little water lilies that smell so sweet. I wo black men were gathering them to cook 1 he Dutch people make a dish from the flowers which are very delieaH*. We got a huge bum h. but md to eat! Mr finish rd up the dav by going 1 o Newlamls to have Ic.i with some Xcvv Zealanders. 'I he last bit was rather too much, and I was glad of a rest and sonic tea be ■tore we rode hoim* in the moonlighi with the wind behind ils. 'j’he moon lias been so bright and clear during the las't week, that it seems a pity to go inside at all. We often go for rides from S to 10 o’clock, ami i is really the best time. M’<* have mt had anything exciting to <|o I*|« d v , though town was rather startled last iiiont h by a huge gas explosion in an old disused drain under tin* main street, when some cabs were blown into the air, and the water-pipe burst op«*n with Hie shock so that the town was in a bad state. The tram rails w< re torn up (they had only been laid a few days), ami the street was more like a great hole than a road. The sad pait was n poor woman who had just arrived from Germany was killed by falling

ston<*s. Some other people were badly injured, ln.it not killed. By next month 1 hope to have Jots <»f vegetables growing. as 1 am now planting all kinds of seeds. Lhe garden is fairly full ol Howers, too, and our roses are beginning to look beautiful. Freesias are in bud, and 1 am glad to see it; don’t you love them? And violets too! As you go through town you get a lovely whiff of the violets carted about by the little coloured boys to sell. I have just rea l “Sandy,” Hie latest hook by Die a nth Jr of “Mrs Wiggs;” it is so pretty. ‘‘Bachel,” by J. Kind lay ter, is a dear little story, and I enjoyed “Richard Rosny,” by Maxwell Gray. Just now I am halfway through a rather original kind of story by Mary Findlayter, called “Rose of Joy.” it gives you a kind of shake up, because it is written so abruptly in parts, but the characters are good and out of the common. 1 did like “The Rose of the World.” which is just published, by the Castles. All their books are ini cresting, don’t you think? The tram lines are still being taken up. and we again have the crossing outside our gate, which is mo.<t convenient. 1 have another girl in my olliee. She has only been with me a week, and is a kind of-book-keeper. Siu* is rather nice, but like all the colonials, never sufficiently ini erested in anything to be interesting. Somehow, all 1 he girls here give you an unsatisfied feeling. They always seem to lack something. It must be because they don't collect things or have hobbies of any kind like the New Zealand girls, who are always so ready for fun and exercise. If they work for their living they appear to be indifferent to everything else, and simply slide along each day. If I ask them whether they cart* for reading they say they don’t mind it. but never have favourite books or authors. I suppose they would us just as uninteresting to 1 hemselves. or perhaps it is my fault that they seem so dull and perhaps I don't strike the things they do care for. Anyway, a school here wouldn’t Im? a quarter the fun it was in Auckland. I was sorry when I left it. In June the rain (aim* down steadily for weeks, and there were landslips all round the \ i( t< ria-road. In Durban they had an awful storm. Hundreds of people were Hooded out and drowned, ships and steamers wrecked, and large planta--1 ions were (lest royed. The rain and wind did a terrible Jot of damage, and many people lost everything. Capetown was not damaged beyond the landslips. banks washed away, and one house at Clifton Hooded over the slope on to 1 he lower road. The people escaped before the Hood. I am stumped for news al present, so hope you will forgive me for sending rather a dull letter. There are times when nothing of interest happens, and everything seems standing still -Capetown is like that now. Everyone plays pit here, and it appears to be the rage in Auckland at present, just in the same way as ping-pong wjis. M e don't often play, though we h.CT* the game. It is good fun. hut you don't always feel inclined for such an unholy din. The Clan Munro. a new steamer built last year, went ashore at Kommetje. Kalk Buy, about .30 miles from hero. She is a total wreck. 1 hough no lives were lost. There were 70 Lascars on board, and they all Iwcame panic-stricken. We were going to cycle as far as Kommetje Io see the wreck, but when wv had gone ten miles we found the wind, which was behind us, was getting stronger, ami wet didn’t fam*} riding home all those .30 miles against the wind, so we turned olf at Painislcad and went down a sandy track till we reached a small thatched house, which was unused and partlx surrounded by an old sort of moat half full of stagnant water. We camped for the afternoon under some lives and lai er on gathered a big bunch of lovely yellow wattle from a Ire.e in which there was a hive of bees. By the limp.we were ready to cor. e home the wind had dropped a good deal, so wo had a fair ride buck, though it was rather hard wdrk. Now, 1 must stop, as I have nothing left to say, ttiid you are getting tired of reading tiiy untidy writing. Next montli. perhaps, I will have had an exciting time—you never can 1**11! Good-bye. with lov<? to all the cousins and yourself, from Cousin Alison (South Africa). [Dear Cousin Alison. I am sorry, too, that your letter arrived just when I was away on my holiday, because it seemed a pity tn write Much a nice long letter and then to get no answer to it. I win glad you think the answer

is the best part of writing, so to return the compliment I must try and write a more interesting letter than usual. I did enjoy my holiday very much. I only had ten days, though, and that was not very satisfying. 1 found it only just made me want some more. I spent a week at M’aiwera (of course you have been there). I had never been there before, and was delighted with it. It was very quiet, but as we wont just to rest, it suited us exactly. The baths are lovely, and the hotel so comfort able and awfully well managed. You will hardly believe it, and 1 am a«haincd to confess it. too, but I was seasick coming home, ami it is only a four hours’ journey, and not that in a decent boat. 1 have a letter from Cousin AVinnio to* day, too, and she says she has just received your letter. Yes, she certainly is a splendid correspondent, though she sometimes gets tired of writing, like the rest of us. There some days when 1 feel I could not write a letter even to earn a King’s ransom. Do yon ever feel like that? How’ thoroughly you seem to enjoy your bicycle rides. I don’t wonder though, there seem to be so many places of interest just near enough to make a comfortable ride. Aon always say “we.” Does that mean just your brother and vourself. or has your pally increased ’lately? I should think you wouldn’t often want excitements in the shape of gas explosions. I think I would prefer stagnation to that kind of excitement. It was fortunate that there were not more people kil cd. t like freesias in the open air, but think the perfume too heavy indcors. don t you? After all. I think roses anti violets arc very hard to beat. 1 did not go down to the office the day your letter arrived, so it was sent up to me. I was sitting on the verandah rending “Richard Rosny.” and it seemed funny to come across vour remarks about it. I haven't finished it yet, so cannot give you mv opinion of it. 1 have read Ihe Rose of the World.” li is interesting, but very improbable, don’t you think i It is a pity you cannot find a congenial companion. You must miss all your Auckland chums very much. Let us hope that as you get to know one another better you will find each other more interesting. Well, Alison. 1 really must stop now, or between us we will be taking up all the available space on the Cousins’ page. Write again soon. 1 am always so glad to hear from you.—Cousin K ite.] »