Children’s Page

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXVI, Issue 11, 17 March 1906, Page 55

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’ CORESPONDENCE. Dear Cousin Kate, —Although news is not by any means plentiful in this part of the world just now, yet I feel that I really must make au attempt and tell you what little there is, as I know what a fearfully bad correspondent you must think me. We went for a lovely ramble on the Port Hills one evening last week. We had tea early, and then started off. There was no wind, or, at least, only the faintest breeze, and so walking up-hill was very pleasant. After walking some distance up we struck off the road, and, getting through a fence which divides the hills front the road, we climbed to the top of rather a higher hill than the rest. The sides of this hill are covered with rocks of all sizes and shapes, and in the protected nooks in the rocks a hardy species of maidenhair fern flourishes. We startled several rabbits who were sporting and frisking up and down the hillside, and didn’t they run! They are such timid creatures,'l think. They seem to know that “every man’s hand is against them.’’ When we reached the top we had a grand view of Christchurch and the surrounding country. We eat down on a rock and enjoyed the view of our perfectly flat city, now lighted by hundreds and hundreds of lamps, and while we watched a mist seemed to steal up gradually from the sea and envelop the whole town in a thin white shroud, which was only piereed by’ the gas lamps. The different streets could quite plainly be distinguished by the double row’ of lights which seemed to stretch far away into the sea. When descending the hill we found a few mushrooms, but they Were not very large, as the weather we were experiencing then was not very favourable to their growth. The children were quite pleased with their find, for- they all like mushrooms, but I think they are horrid things, and I cannot think how some people can enjoy eating them. When we arrived home it was a little after eight, and quite dark. It seems funny to talk of it being dark at eight o'clock, and it shows that the autumn is not far ahead. The MacMahon Dramatic Company are at present here. Dad took me last night to see ."Called Back.” I did not enjoy myself a bit, as I hate that sort of thing. Have you read a book called “Erehie,” by Neill Munroe? It is a collection of droll Scotch sketches. I read the book the other day, anil thought it very amusing. Yesterday I finished “A Double Thread,” by Ellen T. Fowler, but I did not care for it very much. 1 was very interested in Cousin Doreen’s nice ’ letter * in last week s “Graphic.” I should like to exchange post cards With her; so 1 will wend her one this week. I have not seen a letter from Ethyl), our other Australian cousin, for some time. 1 hope she has not de.serted our band. Well, dear Cousin Kate, please .excuse this scrappy and

untidy note. I will try and write a more interesting and longer one* next time. With very much love from your old cousin, Winnie (Christchurch). [Dear Cousin Winnie,-—I am afraid news is not any more plentiful in our part of the world than it is in yours, so, knowing from experience Ih%\v hard it is to write when news is scarce, JL am doubly grateful to you for your letter this week. You are so fortunate, I think, to be able to go for such. Lovely rambles. In Auckland one has to go such a long way before the pretty part begins that one is too tired to enjoy it properly. I suppose it is natural that rabbits should be more timid in the more populous districts. A short -.time, ago. I spent my holidays in the 'King Country, and one. day when we were out driving we saw several rabbits; they didn't seem the least bit alarmed at our appearance, and simply moved off to the side?of. the road. Of course they are not the'ypest that they are in \tlip, South, though I expect they will be in time. You Mind' I must be in the minority as regards mushrooms. Most ■,people enjoy them thoroughly, but I. neyer cpuld make myself like mushrooms/' oysters, or tomatoes. They must be an acquired taste, I think. don't'yoir? I have read very few new books lately, and have not come across ‘‘Erchie” yet; if it is very Scotch I shall not care for it. It takes me such a long time to get at the meaning of it that I lose all interest in the book. One needs to be a Scotch scholar to appreciate them. I think. I have read ’‘A Double Thread’*—in fact, I think I have read all E. T. Fowler’s, but I fancy I read them too close together, for they left an impression in my mind that there was a weariful sameness about them. Cousin Ethyll has not deserted our band yet, for there io a long letter from her on my desk, which I am just going to answer now. Did you see - the news about Cousin Alison's sisters “ in last week's “Graphic*'?—Cousin Kate. | 4* 4* 4* Dear Cousin Kate, —T am very sorry 1 did nut tell you my age. which is thirteen, and I am in the sixth standard. 1 have a younger brother and two kindhearted # sisters. 1 think myself fortunate, don't you. Cousin? We have a beautiful red setter, who’s name is “ Pat.” He frolics and plays with us just as if he were a human being. My father has a launch, and I often go out in it. Just recentlyj"ny father, another gentleman and myself went out fishing with a net. and.can you guess how many fish we got? * WliyJ thirty-five" dozen lovely flat-fish! . It seemed to’me that on the following morning everybody in our vicinity had “'fish for their breakfast. lam glad you have accepted me as your copsin. 1 have not received my badge which you sent me. Love to you and all cousins.—Cousin Charlie.

[Dear Cousin Charlie, —Y’ou are a fortunate boy to have a eqinpiinion to play with and two- sisters to look after you and mend your clothes for. you; but perhaps they (your sisters) are younger than you tod.' lam even better off than you, for 1 have three sisters and two brothers. I used not to care for dogs at all, but have changed my opinion lately. Some of them are so cute and clever that they are almost as good com-

panions as human beings. A friend of mine told me the other day that his dog could do everything but talk. I suppose, as you have a launch, you must live quite elose to the beach. What a splendid haul of fish you got; it was no wonder that all your neighbours hart fresh fish for breakfast. 1 wish I lived close to you. too. for there is nothing 1 like better for my breakfast than a fresh flounder.—Cousin Kate.] Dear Cousin Kate, —Again I take my pen in hand to indite these few lines to you, hoping they will find you well, as they leave me at the present time. You will see from the style in which 1 begin this letter that I have been taking lessons in letter-writing from the Aneients. I have read that we don’t write letters now, that it is a lost art. We just post a picture post-card with a very much boiled-down description of a holiday trip, sueh as: “Been to Jericho for a week; had a ripping time. Ta-ta.” The Aneients had more time than anybody can get now. 1 suppose the days were longer, or is it the nights that is the proper period for letters to be manufactured? After having got their pen well in hand and settled the subject of bodily condition,, they continue something like this: “The weather is settling, and if it only holds up long enough we shall be able to get in tne hay, God willing.” The latter expression is frequently interpolated, much as though it were a pious swear-word. Then it goes on: “The cocks do erow, the kine do low, the sheep baa-baa all day, the ducks quack-quack, and the maids elaek-clack, their tongues wag, work or play. Hark, hark, the dogs do bark, the beggars are come to town; get ready your dole, for to save your soul, or you’ll get the jests of the clown.” This will do for a sample. Polite letter-writing in the olden days was a science we decadents mortals of the twentieth century cannot approach without holding our noses. Anyhow, they had to sweat their brains to fill up the paper when letters cost a shilling postage, and took as long to reach the next town as they are now in getting to the other side of the world. 1 hear that you have been mourning me as dead. 1 am not quite dead yet, so you may dry up.your tears, and if I get overdue again at Llyod’s, don't post me up amongst the missing. I might turn up at any time, a la Rougemont, and give you a thrilling story of life on a Ponsonby desert.—Cousin Lyn.

[Dear Cousin Lyn.—l certainly thought you were lost to sight (tho* to memory dear), but alter your letter this morning I am quite satisfied as to your health, for I’m sure you must be a long way oil dead" yet. Do you know I am beginning to think it is true that letter-writing is a lost art. or at ail events it is rapidly becoming so. I suppose because we live in a rush and whirl, and so can never settle down to write really good, welbexpressed letters. ’Talking of letters, of course you have read “ The Letters of a Selfmade Merchant to his Son.” What did you think of it? 1 don't think the expression “God willing" is quite so ancient as you may imagine. I remember when I was a child we had an old gardener who always said. “ If it is anyways line, and < • oil's willing. I'll d<» it. mum. to-morrow." when told to do a certain piece of work. I don’t believe the Ancients found it any harder to lid up their letters than we do. for I know heaps uf people who sit and look at a sheet uf paper in front of them for halt an hour at a time, ami groan out at intervals. “ What shall I write about?" Did you <pmc into town to assist at the welcome of our foot bailers? What an enthusiastic rocep tion they had. hadn't they? —Cumin Kate. J 4' 4« 4' Dear Cousin Kate. — What an age it is since my last letter appeared in thr “Graphic” i intended wiiliiL/ before, but did not seem to have cnougn leisure momenta. and then the heat has b< en -u oppressive that I hope to be forgiven ini* time. Hasn't this summer weather been very trying? Ihi.* the smoke from the surrounding bush lives, combined with the intense heat, makes life almost unbearable. Have you read the account t of the disastrous bush fires in Gippsland? I think nearly everyone has heard of the losses sustained by th? farmer?, and others in that part of th? colony They have started a relief fund, and nearly everyone has responded liberally, tho collections taken i»i the State school'* alone amounting to six hundred pounds. What a number of interesting letters have appeared in tho children's column lately? I like Cousin Doreen’s very much. Don't you think the manager ol Bushwood Settlement very thoughtful for others, although he did not choose a very ’ appropriate name for the road? I have seen a picture of the real Appian Way. and the scenery is totally different to any I have seen in Australia. I am glad Cousin Alison has started a <li»” mission. It ought to prove very interesting if the’cousins take it up. I. haven’t soon many opinions in the letterr as yet. I do not quite agree with Cousin Alison in saving South African girlf are too conventional. They are only following a custom which, in my opinion, will never be altered. No matter hovr much we would, like to mould others 3 ideas, principles or manners, to the patterm of your own. when the majority are against us. I am afraid success would not crown our efforts. Ilav.> you ever visited Melbourne. Cousin Kate? Lat< Iv there have been several improvements made in difi'erent portions of tho city. The Botanical Gardens arc very beautiful at present, and pre much frequented by pleasure-si ekt'rs. Then thoie is Prince's Court, an ideal pleasure resort. It is situated near Prince's Bridge. ’I here are all kinds of amusements for the younger people. You can shoot the chute, try the helter-skelter, ‘njoy a Katzenianiiii>‘r Breeze, ami various oilier joys; then join the cafe ( haul am audience. Lately they have added a ire lutgeric. and from all accounts other amusemepts are to be provided. Miss Tittell Brum? is playing in Sardon's great tragedy of intrigue, “La Tosea.’’’

Tn f lais p’ay rJie h:i« scored, so far, her gr<‘ut<*st triumph, her com »'*ption of the character in -I artistic \eritv and fitness In-irig exceptionally g”'»d. Next week tdu* ap|M*arM as “Leah Klesclina.” After reading 1 barren's a<<-< unt of this play 1 feel quite anxious to see it staged. My sister returned from a vacation in tlu? city al»out a week ago. and I have been asking innumerable questions about everything. My p« st card collection is still on 1 lie increase. La>t week I received a Japanese one. It is a pictur*? of one of their ieLds. •*Daibutsu.” I value it wrv iniie-li a-’ it is the* first I have cei\ -d from the Fur East. I have* had several foreign ones sent to ire, so I am rather proud of mv e ollect ion. which is a very varied one*. Do you like history? ( oiimii Ixate? It has a fascination for me. and I have* just finished a book entitled "Scottish ( hirfs.” '1 he* hero is William Wallace, sb well known in Scottish historv. lido the book very few persons wholly imaginary have* 1 eeu introduced. and the places written about are all saiel to have ln*en vi-ited l>y Wallace. The* mci.ini hedv circumstances which first . *xritcd him to draw his flword for Scotland are something like modern romance, but thev are recorded as facts in the old poem of "Blind Harin-. ” All through the* book is wry interesting. and is worth anyone's perusal. I wrote to Cousin Muriel a long time ago. but as vet have received no answer to mv letter. 1 have been wondering if it reached her safidv. as she answered my other one so promptly. Yesterday I was out playing tennis. We played three sets, and had altogether an enjoyable time. We never commence playing till after sundown, as it is too hot. till that time. Since I last wrote I have been awav foi a fort irght's holiday. but. as is Usually the case, wished I could have prolonged mv vacation. Whilst away 1 •tried hike riding, and after innumerable falls managed to become* fairlv proficic nt. I have not had a ride* since 1 returned home. so will ■ out of practiw. This place- is very dull at present, the next excitement being the races. Thry only hold one meeting during tin* year, so it is quite a fed - dav. A fripnd of mine told me she had written to you. so I am quite* anx’ous to see In r letter appear. Have you .- n any copies of the *‘New I lea?” it is an Australian magazine. Besides be ing a high-tom d periodical. it is thoroughly interesting, and up-to-date n cwry department. Blackberries an- ripe new. and mv sisters and T are going out gathering some. Yesterday wo had some* nt to us. and they were so nice; ;hev made us long for more. Eser\ thing about here is dried up with tin* drv weather we leave experic nct-d. The onlv place one can see anv nice* green is in tin* fi rn gullies. Here the vegetation is -<> fresh looking that cm* finds a practical inadequacy of language* as a means of <’•-scribing it. Needless to say. we frequently visit those beaut', spots, and on, several occasions have* t aki n our lunches. and remained out for tin* greater pari of the day. My camera is havin'** a rest now. T have given it to mv sist-rs. I found T could md deyote < nough tinr to this interesting art. I have given all the photos I ha<| printed away. bul intend printing some* again. 1 want some io send Cousin Hilda. She sent me three copies of mhiio she had tak« n. They arc very credit able for amat tier's work. About a month a<»o there was quite n Sensation here. Tin- residem e of a old age pon-i< m-r was I,unit to Hie ground. The crowd qiiirklv gitb. red. as this is such an unusual orcurrem-e. \s I (link I lia\<* written enough for this time. T shall keep the n d of the news till next. With kim’< -t regards. From Corshi Flhvll. | Dear Cousin I'.thxll.- I was so delighted to get your nice. Inng letter this morning. It >e.-nt- rgc- since I beard from you last. A< vou will see l>v tlirir letter-. several of tl-<* c<m>ins wire beginning t-» get anxious about you. and were inquiring wli ther vou were going to continue to belong to < nr band. < ’• usin Muriel has not written Io me for a Very long time, -o I cannot sa\ whether she evi-i received vottr letter or not. W’e Lav- thought tb<* weather very trying ever here, and have grumbled at it very much. I’m afraid we should all have been past grumbling if we had had t be Au-lralian heat added to bush tires to put up with. \\ c* don’t know w hen wo are well oIV o\ -r here and I agree with •‘The St i • rer’* th.il ‘‘life would be extremely llit with nothing whatever io grumble* at.” W7* read all the ncro”nts of the Au-i rali.m bush fires. and were

intensely sorry for all the sufferers. I'm glad people are giving so lih‘rally to the “Belief Fund.” for I’m sure every penny will he ncedrd. Not many of the cousins have given their opin’*.ns re Cousin Alison’s discussion as vet —1 wish they would: they would be very intrresting. I think, don’t vou? When you have all finished giving your opinions, I would like to give nr*H'». No, 1 have never visited Melbourne vet. but hope to some dav soon- 1 haw* heard a great deal about it. I have seen quite a number of Japanese postcards lately. . In many of them the colouring is exquisite. Yes. I very often see “The New Idea.” One of mv sisters is a subscriber. It is a very good one, and there is such a variety of reading in it. Don't vou think it is a pity to give up your photography? It is a delightful hobby for girls, I think.—Cousin Kate. |