COUSINS’ CORRESPONDENCE.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXVII, Issue 3, 21 July 1906, Page 55

COUSINS’ CORRESPONDENCE.

Dear Cousin Kate, —I received the badge by last mail, and thought it was very nice indeed. My sister is back from Auckland now, and she tells me she likes it very much indeed, and was sorry to eome away. You said yon had relations staying at our place not so long ago; well, if you tell me who they are by name I will, by next letter, tell you if 1 remember them. You must not think because we live so far out that we are always quiet, and that it must be easy to remember all the names of the people. We are simply crowded in summer-time; sometimes men sleep on the verandah. In winter, of course, it is rather quiet. Yes, the Hot Springs are wonderful. Outside the bathhouses is a fairly deep creek, and there are a lot of springs in it. In summer-time we swim across it. My schoolmate did not write last time, as she was ill; but I think she is writing this time. I am going to encourage a lot of my other friends to write to the “Graphic"—that is, if you will have them. At this school, where Igo now, there are eight children going; but at the Raglan school, where I went before, there were about seventy. I saw in the “Graphic" a little while ago where one of the cousins went to Raglan; I wonder if it is the same Raglan-I mean. Yes, indeed, I think you would like to eome here; the bush around is so pretty’ and the baths are a great attraction. Did you go to the pantomime'' My’ sister did, and enjoyed herself greatly. The answer to that riddle is "Swallow”; of course, if you do not swallow, you will die in time. What sort of- weather have you been having in Auckland lately? We are having awful weather down here—rain, thunder, and lightning. We have two telephones— one is a private and the other a public one. I answer the private one sometimes, and think it-is nice sport. Doesn’t Cousin Hilda write long letters? Some parts of them are very amusing. I think. Would it not be nice to be able to travel as much as Cousins Hilda and Hero have done? though I would lie very sick on the boats/ cbaclfes, and' train, as I am a fearfully bad sailor. I pin my badge on the bedroom wall, and as long as I have it I will always remember the eonsins’ page. My mother had given to her to-day’ by’ a gentleman a lovely picture frame; This frame consists of 1!H) separate pieces of wood, and is done on red plush. Then there is a lady’s two hands' and four roses made of kauri wood put on this, plush, and all painted red. I kliiiik it is, very pretty’. I will now give: -y<Ai and the’ cousins a puzzle:—One day there was a lady and a gimtleflmn in a,jfrrumcar. The lady: .Stop smoking. The man: Take that dog away.. So the lady threw the pipe out of tree tvifidowOand threw the dog out of the windoty. Aftef’.the ear stopped they got outl then and »vhnt do you think ...it.,had in its rnofith?—From

[Dear Cousin Milly,—l suppose it will be your turn to come to Auckland for a trip next time. You must try and stay a little longer than Edie did, two days hardly gives one time to see anything, does it? The friends who told me about the springs were staying there at Christmas-time, and, of course, when there are so many people there you couldn't possibly remember them all. Of course, I shall be very glad indeed for your little friends to join the cousins’ page. lam sorry your particular school friend has been ill. I hope she is quite right again by this time. We have been having just the same sort of disagreeable weather in Auckland as you have been having, and it doesn’t seem to be going to clear up yet either. I suppose we ought to congratulate ourselves that hailstones the size of oranges don’t fall here. Did you sec in the papers what a lot of damage hailstones had done in Spain? I should think the answer to your riddle must, •be its tongue or its teeth; of course, one is supposed to say the pipe. Cousin Kate.J . 4' + Dear Cousin Kate, —You asked me where I live in Dunedin. I live in Wil-liam-street, off High-street. It is very near to town, so I think perhaps you may know it. We have a lovely view of St. Clair from our upstairs windows. Sometimes the breakers are tremendous, and look like hills. Igo to St. Dominick’s College, and it is a lovely building, standing on the hill. My sister is a boarder, but lam a day scholar. We are having our midwinter holidays just now. This morning it snowed so heavily, that I thought I had never seen it come down so thick and fast. It looked lovely to-see everything whit“ with snow. Was it not lucky that I got the “Graphic” with my letter? I have been collecting postcards for some time, and will be very pleased if some of the cousins would exchange with me. It is very good of you to remember me. I thought very likely you would have forgotten me. With best love to you and the other cousins, from your sincere friend, COUSIN AILEEN. [Dear Cousin Aileen, —I’m afraid T don’t remember William-street at all. because it is some years since 1 was in Dunedin, but, of course. I remember High-street, so I know whereabouts you live. How lucky you are to have a. good view of St. Clair. I used to love going out there just to watch the breakers—it is such a grand sight on a stormy day. You know we never have snow in Auckland, but this morning we had such heavy* hail showers, that the whole place was quite white, so if we made believe just a very little we could fancy that we had been having a snowstorm. I’m sure some of the cousins will be very’ glad to exchange postcards with you after seeing your letter in the “Graphic.” Don’t you get the “Graphic” every week? You say’ you werr very lucky to get the one with your last letter in it, so I suppose you don’t get it regularly. I hope you will see this one.—Cousin Kate.l + + ♦ Dear Cousin Kate, —I hope you have not quite forgotten me. 1 was down at Rendelsham for a holiday not Jong ago. Dpi yqu receive my photo? The races ? .were..op .the 20|th and 21st of thi« month,

and a pigeon match on the 19th. Our local tennis club held a bazaar on race nights, and their concert is to-night. There are a terrible lot of (strag) strangers about, ami it is not safe to go about at nights with anything valuable in your pockets or anywhere about you. There is a team of Adelaide footballers coining here to play footbait against our local combined teams. Do you sa\;e post-cards,? 1 have just started. I have been saving stamps for a good while. We have been having plenty of lain lately, but not very heavy as yet. We had a bit of a thunderstorm last night. Arc you having much rain? I cannot think of anything to tell you, so I must now dose this short letter with love to all.—Cousin HERBERT. [Dear Cousin Herbert.—What a very long time it is since I heard from yon last. Lhave not, forgot ten you. though, but 1 quite thought you had forgotten me. Did you send mo a pliotograph, and when? I certainly have never received one. Your tennis club committee must be a very’ energetic one. They’ seem to hold plenty’ of entertainments during the year. I wonder why it is that pickpockets are so numerous just now; one hears cif them/every where, ami some of them are .so daring. It makes one rather chary of going out alone at night, doesn’t it? No,’l don't collect either post-cards or stamps, though I think they both make interesting collections. We have been having plenty ol rain this last week, but until then we have had glorious weather, so we can't complain, can w‘c? -Cousin Kate.J + + 4* Dear Cousin Kate.— It is indeed a very long time since 1 last wrote to you, but I sincerely hope to continue my letters and write regularly every week. Everybody in Hamilton was terrib’v shocked and grieved at the sad news ot Mr Seddon's death, and on the day of the funeral all the shops and working places were closed and a memorial service was held in the Town Ball. The weather has been very unpleasant in Hamilton the last few (lays, but nothing more can hr expected at this time of year: indeed, I think we have been very fortunate "with the weather up till now. but we cannot grumble; if it was summer 1 dare say We would be complaining of the heat or dust or something. Hamilton is still improving, and it seems wonderful the way the* houses are springing up everywhere. The Waikato Hounds met at Hamilton East yesterday, but as the weather han* been bad here lately it was not a very suitable day for hunting, and the ground was in a bad condition. There is going to Im 1 a library Imll here this month. The first night is going to be for the, adults, and the second for the children, and’ my sisters and I hope to go. I have just been reading some of th® cousins’ letters, and also the cleverly written letters by the children alrout Bostock and Wombwell’S menagerie, which I think was a splendid objectlesson for school children, as one eoulci ftee such a variety of animals and birds. Isn’t it wonderful the way the year is flying by Cousin Kate? Ono can hardly imagine hah of this year is over already. As it is getting rather Into I will bring my letter to a. cjpso, homing to see it in

print tiii- week.— I am, your affectionate coiimii, LINDA (Hamilton). | Dear Cousin Linda. I think everyone was shocked when the new- of Mr Srddon'* death < line through. It waa so terribly sudden. wasn’t it? We have very fortunate this winter. I think. Really. there has not Iwen a day when yon roidd not go out in comfort, though the hist few days have been rattier unpleusan*. cold. and showery. 1 don't mind the rain, but 1 hate the cold winds —in fart, directly the winter comes I want to start off to the I-land- and •tax there till summer time. Even there I don't believe it would Im* too warm for me. Do ton ever follow the hunt? We drive out to the meets .sometimes, and it looks so exciting that I always wish I <-«»uld join in. 1 don't suppose it would be -<» much fun in nad weather, or when the ground was muddy. I hope you will enjoy the l»all very much, and that it will Im» a great success. Dancing is delightful, and such good exercise for one too. Bostock ami Wombwell’s menagerie was very good indeed. Some of the animals were womlerfuHy well trained. but the monkeys were so hideous. As you say. thi* year has simply flown, ami really they seem to grow shorter and shorter as one "grows older. — Cousin Kate.| Dear C ousin Kato. —Thank yon very much for the nice badge you sent me. It was a rather wet and miserable trip to town, but I did not mind. that, because I had not seen Auckland for four • nd a-half years. Yes. 1 did go ami see the pantomime, ami I thought, it was lovely. We were there only for two days. The first night we went to the pantomime, and the second night v\e went to Fuller's, at the Opera House. Did you see the pantomime? I think I will close now. as I have got toothache. and I do not feel much' like writing. Love to yourself and ail the cousin.-. I remain, yours truly. EDIE, V aingaro. P.S.—excuse such a short Viter. | Dear ( ousin Edie. — I am so glad you g«t your badge safely, and that you liked it. Coming from Waingaro to Auckland fur ju-t two days seems a very long trip for a very short time. Didn't you want to stay a little longer? A i-.x. I went to the pantopdme, t<»o. ami liked it very much. I htftelted so much at poor old ‘’Mrs . 4 was quite tired. I haven't Fuller's for age-, so I don't kngrxx' xvhat is going on there. Did you enjoy that. too? Poor Edie. I van sympathise yvtth you if you have toothache badly. -It was very good of you to write even such a short letter when you had it. Are y<ui going to have the tooth *top|*eff or taken out? —Cousin Kate.l 4* + 4* Dear ( ousin Kate,- This is not a long letter, but merely to ask you a most important question on the subject of clothes summer ones. Our granny is m<»-l anxious to embroider us some white linen frock- for next year. Dear <ou>in Kate, will this !»-.* correct. or shall we find ourselves, as per usual, just a season late? What would you think of while linen embroidered in some pale colour? -lust consider the matter., please, amt let u- know your decision* as soon ii- po—ible. as gran, might change her mind, or the summer pa-s away before they are finished. It is no use our buying to -axe: the improvident Irish-train will out. and we are both head over ears in dv!»t. Do you. dear <-ou*in. know anv receipt for saving? If so. you might publish it. and we will try to follow it out. Must •top. with much love to the cousins and yourself, from Cousin GERTIE. (Dear Cousin Gertie. —I was delighted to get your letter yesterday, and will answer x our question re the matter of •ummer clothes to the lie-t of my ability. Of course, one cannot le quite sure yet wh.it the fa-hion- lor next summer are going to Im-. The sale* are on now. as no doubt you know , and w hen they are oxer .ill the shop- will Im* showing their new season'* goods, so I shall Le able to give you a more decided answer then. Looking through some of th.* English paper- I find that they were verx much in evidence at Home in the summer, so I imagine thev will Im* here. too. 1 like linen blmtsen euibioideied in pale colour*, but do not care for embroidered skirts except in white. However, chacun a •on gout. I’m afraid I only know one infallible receipt fur saving, and as it is

very old you may not care for it. Still, I van but give it xou. If you wish to save, don't spend. Cousin Katrs-k”-Dear Cou-in Kate, —Many thanks for your letter. As you say. a humin d pounds a year, devoted to art -purposes. would never be missed by dur City Father-, and would b? a great" incentive to artist* to piint their best. But what seems to me most lacking in our art exhibitions are ideal ] mi in tings. Painted scenery, however beautiful, palls by repetition; ideal painting does not. even though the same subject Im* chosen, because ideals are individual. Lord Carrington is said to have defined Australasians as men who sat iu fifty guinea chairs to look at guinea pielures. The reproach is only too true. < ousin Hero's letter was delightful, was it not? 1 could almost smell the lilac, which I love dearly. I know' a dell in North lumcashire where the winter car|*et of snow gives plac * to the snowdrops of early -pring. and succeeding these come blueliells, violets, ami primroses—so thick that one had to tread very carefully for fear of crushing their dainty Leads, ’fbe snowdrops had been artificially planted years liefore. and were growing with a vigour that 1 have never seen in a garden. Standing on the edge of t.iis dell. 1 could see the ruins of a famous Abbey. and the contrast lietween Nature and Art was very great—the one perennially fresh, the other soon only to b.* a memory of what had been. Talking of daffodils, or Lenten lilies, as they are sometimes called, reminds me of a village in the same county, where, in the mead« ws. they grow wild in great, profusion during the 'months of March and April. Imagine yourself on the edge of a swiftlvllowing river, whose course is serpentine and whos* kinks are fringed with silver pa’m- and dr<M>ping willows, and stretching away to the right and left marshy meadows full of daffodils, which, wlien the sun shines, are transformed into a yellow blaze of glory, and you have a picture of what is known in those parts as Daffodil Park. I'lir-y have in this village a cu-tom which 1 thought a very beautiful <»ne. On flood Friday, after morning church, all the Nunday-school children, carrying large clothes baskets, ’ walk in procession to these riieadows, where they gather amL fill tdrir keskets with daffodils for th? decoration of their village . church. This is the oldest in its diocese, amk -mjf great -grand mot her remembered |M*rf<ctly the time when its lh»or. lieing of earth, was strewed with rjshes. These rushes were renewed xearly, and the day on which th-*y xvere icnexved Uas l>efore tin* yearly xvakes. or fairs* lasted for a xveek. took place. rluMgnrox- st holiday o f the x-ar. Fre.-h ru-lie- were cut ami placed in waggon-, and t.Ue4i. taken to the church, accompanied by the whol- of the villagers. who. dressed in holiday attire, danced Im fore it a dance called a Morri- dance, the men holding above their heads a tow«.T-ltke erection made of gre-nrrv or i'oxver*. After ihc strew ing was finished a feast was given by the rector and squire, and the rest of the day spent in dancing, playing old English games, etc. Bow quaint some of th se old-xvorld cu>t»»ins are: nearly all of them have their ttrigin in some old sacrificial or r -ligious lite. Like Cousin Hero. I. too, love Bacon's ’’Essay <>n Gardens.” The jmrt of it I like best is. ’’And b-cause the breath of flower- is far *w .—ter in the air. xvhen it come- ami go<*-. like the xvariding music, than in th ■ hand, therefore nothing is more fit for that delight than to know what Im* the flowers and plants that du perfume the air.” Then he gnes on to tell hi- readers the kind of floxvers and plants that provide these -weet -cents, and advises them ’’to set xvhole alleys of th*, m. to have the pl a<ure when they walk or tread.” Marie Antoinette is said to have been so fond of ttie .perfume of violet- that great banks of them u-ed to be erect *d in her rooms at Trianon. It is al-o -aid that to this day the odour < f violets clings to th**s? rooms. 1 myself like )an«lsca]>e gardening, xxhich, after all. generally speaking, is an improvement on Nature, inasmuch as it reduces to form and order what might Im* men* draggling overgrown luxuriance. I think carpet lM*dding b*autiful as a bast of colour when the gardener happ ns to Im- an artist, which be often is. ( ousin Winnie dtplores the falling out o» our ranks of older cousins. So do I. Nor can I think that on ■ can ever be too o’d to Im* a cou*in. Even the younge-t of our band can. and do, appreciate older coiuius lett t-, and ii only a que-tion

of time for they too to write a* interestingly as the eldiT ones. 1 read every one of the lett t*, and 1 cannot remember one that did not amwae, interest, or teach me something, ('ousin Winnie siix* : ”<>f new cousins we have Lyn, whose letter* xve all love, and (’ousin Hilda,,who is May I. dear .(’ousjn Kate, through the medium of x your letter, assure Cousin Winnie that 1 would rather be loved than Im* clever. As so many of the Cou-in- xvere interested in the Pigmies, 1 have ventured to send you a little picture of one of them, which I cut out of the Pall Mall Academy Pictures of this year. Though, according to the English idea*, the face is a fearfully ugly one. it cannot lx* said to lack intelligence. 1 xvonder if you could per*uade the editor to put it into our page? How did the tiny tots enjoy Sinbad* I went, ami enjoyed it immensely; but. really, it was more of a variety show than a pantomime. I saxv Sinlxad at the Rugby Theatre just before coming out. Graham is immense, but don't you think it is rather rough on Sinbad. Graham taking first place? I do. I like Marie Campbell very much as Sinbad. but did not think the pantomime children as clever as the children in the “Fatal Wedding.”"did you? 1 cannot endure acrobatic performances, but'all the same they were good. The sort of transformation scene 1 like best is where flowers unfold, and fairies are discovered in their centres. v .I did not stop for the harlequinade? ‘ I xvas tired of laughing at the inconsqnentr “Who do you think 1 sayx to-day?” Cousin Alison invites a diseussnrn a>' to xvbat girls read. A discussion of this kind has great charms for me: so. great that 1 feel that before I begin 1 must put on a curb, for fear of your giving me a xvigging. Girls do read, and though they don’t all read Dickens, they don’t all read rubbish. I dare say that a great many of them would read Dickens if they had the opportunity. Tt i$ only lately that 1 could read Scott. Not that 1 had not the opportunity, but that I could not. It xvas his “Kenilworth” that fired my imagination. My earliest recollection of reading xvas a story book that was profusely illustrated, and the story I liked l»est. which xvas iu rhyme, ran as follows: — If yon please. Mrs Murphy. I’ve called in to say. We want some potatoes For dinner to-day. .Our co<»k does not like them With too many eyes. She says that they stare Al her jellies and pies. I liked Jellies, and 1 liktxl pies, and used to Im* awfully afraid that the potatoes. xxhich I then, ami do noxv, dislike very , much, might develop mouths ami eat up my “jellies and pies.” Then I remember ’’(’hatter-box.” and after that the ’’Girls’ Oxvn Paper.” I like it still. There is a groat deal of wisdom in fairy tales, and always a moral. Thorp are certain books every girl or hoy should read, such as ” Lit tie Women.’’ “Nan-lford and Merton,” “The Wide, Wide World.” “Tom Brown's S<-hool Days.’’ Kingsley’s “Westward, Ho.” ami “Geoffry Hamlvn.” Jxtmb’s “Tales of Shakespeare.’’ ’’Ben Hur,” and a host of others too numerous to mention. 1 think that w hat a girl reads depend- entirely on her environment, but of one thing I feel sure, ami that is that if she learns early to acquire a taste for goc*l literature, she xvill never revert to bad. Of course, a girl’s taste would alter and improve, or xvhat xvould lie the benefit of reading? 1 think it would lx* splendid if the Cousins would discuss this question of reading, as to why xve read, xvhat we n*ad. ami the benefits that accrue from reading? i should like to a-k you l»efore closing this letter a question. Christinas xvill soon be here, an-l 1 hax'e set my heart on those bags going round this Christmas, fs there any objection. after xve have filled our own bag. to asking friends to help fill other bags? It seems early to talk about them, but nearer Christmas there are s<» many calls on our ]Mxket money. We have turned the half-year, and it would be easy to begin now to fill our bags. You see I have seen the children’s ward, and I know’. With love to yourself ami all the (’ousins, I remain, your affectionate Cousin. H ILDA. Ponsonby. [Dear Cousin Hilda, — As usual your letter is most interesting, and 1 also shall Im* very pleased if -onu* of the elder cousins xvill enter upon a species of e-say diseu-sion on the question of reading and books. There used to Im* l»e--f<»rc the ’’Girls* Oxvn Paper” xvas brought out a capital annual called, if 1 remem-

ber rightly. “ Aunt Annual.* aiul it was edited by that bean€iful. highminded and exquisitely p«»T»*he<l lady, Mrs. Scott (Jatty. mother of the writer of the plantation *ongs. It was quite the ideal of a girFs mtigaamv. and contained mo-t admirably wr.iten girls* stories free from precocious love nonsens. and yet not namby-pamby. I wonder if it is still in existence, and if still as tastefully and wisely edited. My earliest a fleet ions* in the way of stories (before 1 could read, of course), xvere the “ Three Little Pigs,” *’ The Seven Little Kids,? ” God den Liair’* and "The Three Bears.” Then came “ Struwelpeter,’’ the pictures and stories of which are still a delight to me, as they have been to countless thousands of children. v 1 think, indeed, it should Im* compulsory on parents to give their tiny tots ” Struwelpeter.” Life is not complete unless one can look back to one's first righteous horror over the heinous sins of “Cruel Frederick.” or the axve inspired by ” Tall Agrippa.” who dipped the naughty boys in the ink. Tenderest recollections, too. hover round the pictures of the pussy cats weeping over the ashes of naughty Matilda. who xvould play with matches. Lear's nonsense rhymes and pictures came at a later date. The ” Toy Books” of my childhoml’s days xvere very crude and highly-coloured productions. and contained the most stupi«l stories imaginable. Caldecott, on the comic side, and Ruth Greenway, on the artistic, revolutionised matters in this direction, and we have gone on from good to.better till the modern children's annuals, such as Nesbit's, are marvels of artistic illnst ration and excellent juvenile literature. The firs* ta<te for reading in children is unquestionably instilled by telling them stories, and parents who xvill not take the trouble to begin this at the very earliest age, don't deserve to liave children at all, and can certainly not feel surprised if their progeny turn out stupid, anti hard to amuse. When this first stage is passed, reading aloud follows, and in every home there should be a children's hour,’ xvhen this delightful duty should Im* performed whatever else remains undone. Few boys or girls will begin reading Dickens or Scott for themselves, but if started by a grown-up who skips dull, unsuitable and difficult passages and pages, these and other classics will soon lie delighted in. I must, however, not let my |M*n run axvay with me any faster on this subject, which is a pet of mine. I will try and l<xxk up some very old and very amusing little books called the ’’ Daisy Cowslip.” etc., next W’eek. and give some extracts from the “Cautionary Verse” of which they consist. They are delightfully quaint and old-fashioned, and the rhymes in places excruciating, but they always contain a lesson such as our great-grandm«»thers-loved to instil into the mind of their children of those days, xvho xvere dreadful little prigs. Only one can I remember at the moment. It is called. £ think. “Naughtx’ Sam.” and it runs as follows: — Tom ami Dick mice took a walk. To see a Huie lamb. Ami on the way began to talk. Of naughty little Sain. Who teased his little sister Nell. And threw her in the dirt. And when his poor mamma was HL He teased hvr for a squirt. ‘■And I.” said Dick, “won’t play with Sam, Although he has a top;” But hero the pr*tty little lamb. To talking put a stop. We as children used to delight to picture the “ little lamb” putting an end to this virtuous conversation by advancing unseen from the rear and heartily butting the two goody-goodies. Our sympathies were with Ssuu always.— Cousin Kate.[