COUSINS’ CORRESPONDENCE

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLII, Issue 20, 19 May 1909, Page 53

COUSINS’ CORRESPONDENCE

EAR COUSIN KATE,—How are B you getting on? I hope you I a are as well as I am. We have \, J got a new teacher at school nor. she is taking our other teacher's place for two months, and I like her very much. It was a red letter day for Nelson when the first oeean liner, the “Rakaia" came into Nelson. I went down to see it come in, and in the afternoon I went down to go and look over it. There were hundreds of school children there. I met some of my friends there, and we went down to the engineroom and got some iee. It was very hot going down to get to the ice. and the iron stairs were very steep; the ice wa« in great blocks round some pipes, and it looked just like snow. The day after it came in I took my grandma and grandfather to see the boat. Mum’s garden is all dried up now. but there are -onie lovely chrysanthemums in it, the colours of some of them are white, yellow. red, pink. etc. The fourth, fifth, aad sixth standards at our school go to cooking classes every Wednesday now, and I like it very much. I must now saw good-bye, because it is bedtime. Love to all the cousins and yourself. —From Cousin MABEL.

[Dear Cousin Mabel, —I am very w ell, thank you, though I do not know whether I am as well as you are, if you live at Stoke, which I fancy must be a very nice place, if it is anything like as beautiful as Nelson. Do you see the snow-capped mountains at Stoke? If you do. I wonder what you think of them. I think they are awful in their beauty. I am so glad you like your temporary teacher. We once had a master who eame to relieve when our headmaster was away, and we liked him so much, thought he was very strict. I see that you go. to the district school, as I did. How you must have enjoyed seeing the ’“Rakaia” come in to Nelson. It is grand to have such a great ocean liner come in there, and I should have liked to see it now that the channel is made clear - enough. You must have enjoyed the lovely cold ice after your hot climb down those steep stairs. It is funny to see ice in blocks like that, isn’t it. or to see the snow in a thick matting on the pipes of a refrigerator in hot weather. I suppose your grandma and grandfather were content to hear about the engine-room, and did not try the descent, as you and your little friends did. The chrysanthemums in vour mother’s garden must be a lovely show with so many colours. I am sure von like the cooking classes. I think the way cookery is taught under the present"educational system is excellent. I once ate a lunch cooked By the pupils at one of our schools, and it was most enjoyable. Pleasant dreams, dear Cousin Mabel. —From your affectionate Cousin Kate.]

Dear Cousin Kate, —I am very sorry that I did not write last time, but I forgot all about it until it was too late. I am delighted with my badge. I will sot write a story this time, but I will next week. We keep refreshment rooms at the station. Have you ever been to Pollard's Opera Company? They are coming here to-morrow night and the night after. I am going. Next time I will tell you how 1 liked it. My elder sister Mary is going to write a story too, she says., but I don't know whether she will or not. Well, I must conclude nay letter, wishing yon every success. -—I remain, vonrs trnlv. Cousin MARJORIE. [Dear Cousin Marjorie,—l certainly will forgive you for forgetting to write last time. I suppose yon have a busy life and a good many interests. I am glad you think the badge so pretty. I shall be so pleased to see year story. When do you generally feel most inclined to write? I often feel most able to write when 1 am obliged to do something else. Tell your sister that 1 think she ought to send us a story too, now that she has raised oar expectations. I know a lady who keeps refreshment rooms, and she is a beautifal pianist as well. Do you help to serve? If you do, what a lot of interest you must find in seeing so many different people at such a junction as Paeroa. I think there’s a good -deal of satisfaction in serving people when they are hungry and tired, don’t you? I must look up your rooms the next time I come to Paera. I have never been to Pollard's Opera Company, but the last time I was in Paeroa (and the first time tool, 5t was to hear

Madame Crossley sing. Did you hear Iter? I went down at night, and it seemed so funny going through your town in the dark, when I had never l>een there before. Thank you so much for your good wishes, which I heartily return.—Your affectionate Cousin Kate.] + + + Dear Con sin Kate, —It is a long time since 1 wrote to you: I have been busy with my school lessons. I am now in Standard IL My brother from Wellington. my auntie from Papaknra. and my cousin from Onehunga have all been to see us at Easter. 1 have a new teacher teaching me at school. There are a lot more children at school now. 1 have not been to Sunday school to-day, because it was so wet. I got a prize for good attendance at Sunday school. There is no more news just bow. I send my love to you. Cousin Kate, and all the other cousin.—l remain vour loving Cousin NAOMI. I Dear Cousin Naomi. —Lessons do keep owe busy, don’t they ’ especially after one has been moved up a standard. But I’m so glad you found time to write. I w-on-der what games you like best at school. We used to play rounders and prisoner’s base and cricket. And we used to toast out lunch at the school fire. Do they allow you to do that? All the butter used to soak into the bread, but we did not mind, we liked it. I’m so glad you got that prize, Naomi. It is not easy getting to Sunday-school. or day-school either, in the country if its wet. How nice to have your brother and your auntie and cousin all to visit you.—■With my love, I remain, dear Naomi, your affectionate Cousin Kate.]

Dear Cousin Kate, —I think it is firn* I started writing again. I don't know what you think of me. I have made A good iiMuy attempts before but there was not. enough news, so I will try again. Very few cousins write now. I have a bad finger just now; 1 was getting in the train at Mount Edea and my cousin opened the door aud squashed half the nail off. I have been to Dr. Stopford three times and it is getting much better. I hope I will be able to use it in a fortnight; I don't know what I shall do if 1 can't. Well, I think I have hunted up all the news there is.—l remain your loving Cousin LEONARD. [Dear Cousin Leonard, — I am so glad that you have started writing again. I shall not scold you for not writing before, for news is sometimes, as you say, scarce. 1 am sure there will soon be more cousins writing, for do you know, Leonard, we are going to get up some lovely competition* for the cousins. So be sure you look out for them,and make up your mind to enter. They will be coming out in about a month or six weeks. See if you can get your friends to write to me. I should be *o pleased to hear from them and to have them for cousins lam so sorry about yom finger nail. It does hurt so much to have one's nail injured. 1 don't know bow you managed to use the typewriter. I hope > our finger will la* well enough to use by the time you read this.—Your affectionate Consul Kate.] ♦ ♦ ♦ Dear Couein Kate.—Will you Stave me for a cousin? 1 have just turned eight. Will you send nu> a badge please? My amities get the '■-Graphic,” and I always get them to read a-hmit Buster Brown. I spend all my holidays with them in the country. I have no brothers or sistens, but have some cousins here and in Auckland. My auntie Clara wrote to tou about a gold mine, do you remember her? I would like to see my letter iu the ‘'Graphic." It will surprise my father, for he doesn't know 1 am writing. I will write again soon.—Cousin CECIL. I Dear Cousin Cecil .—1 a m very pleased indeed to have a lit-tle con-in just eight year -old. and I sivall certainly put your letter in the •Graphic.” Be -are and tell u»e when you next write how you like the itadge which 1 have sent yon, and what yonr father said when he read your letter. Yon arc a fortunate little bey to have such kind aunties, and to have cousins too. Didn't 1 thank your auntae €Sam for writing about that gold mine? Please thank her now for me. I was iu a gold mine not long ago, or « gold tunnel, but it was not very niee because they hadn’t got to the gold. Please do write again. Cecil.— Your very loving Cou-in Kate.] ♦ g ♦ Dear Cousin Kate. —Planning for and inuulging in a delightful holiday trip to Rotorua has been the cause of my long

•ilcucc. However, t now intend writing you an account of my holiday. The fact that Rotorua is so well-known and so much written about, caused mo at first to hesitate about penning this to you, but after all. each jierson has his own particular experiences, and each looks at the scenery with different eyes. Our Party consisted of three persons. Cousin Hilda. my own cousin Naney. an t invselt.

We were all to have left Auckland together on a certain Wednesday in March, but owing to a change in our arrangements. Cousin Hilda tvent up alone on that c.y. Naney and 1 following the Saturday after. Up to Hamilton, the journey was too familiar to us to prove interesting. We talked for a bit. and when wc got tired of each other, we read for a bit, and when we got tired of that.

we dozed for a bit. and after that we were ready to talk again. After passing Hamilton, the country, although new to us, was monotonous until we came to the magnificent bush at Miirakn. It. was there we noticed a change in the atmosphere—cool, with a suspicion of sharpness, accounted for of course by its height above the sea-level, which is. t believe 1864 feet. The express travelled

slowly, giving passengers ample time t* admire the scenery. And for an hour or more we wound sinuously through hilts covered with luxuriant native bush. Tire foliage, dark green and somewhat sombre in the shadows, lightened to a richer tint where the sun shone upon it. and even with the noise of the train, we were conscious of that wonderful stillness of the bush. Coming down the Jlamaku Hill,

we got our flr«t glimp'e of Rotorua, and Nancy and I rushed on to the platform to gO an uninterrupted view. The sun was setting. Lake Rotorua, faintly blue under a pink glow, refleeted from a brilliant sky, looked beautiful. At the back the hills showed rieh purple shadows, through the rosy glow of the sunset. As the sun sank behind the mountains, we reached the township, a pretty collection of redroofed buildings nestling on the shores of the lake. Nancy and 1 were staying with relatives, and as soon as we eould conveniently leave, we went down to see Cousin Hilda at her boarding house. To our surprise and dismay found her ill in bed. Fortunately, though the illness was severe at the time, it did not last long, and two days later we brought her up to our house, to stay for the Test of her holiday. The morning after our arrival, full of eager anticipation, we rose early, and by six o’clock were racing down the pretty avenue of sycamores in Arawa-street, Rotorua’s principal thoroughfare, on our way to the Sanatorium grounds. Oh, everything looked so fresh and beautiful in the early morning sunlight, the green, velvety lawns, the pie-

turesque little lakelets, gleaming with rainbow trout and gold fish, with creamy water lily buds, as yet unopened by the sun, floating on the surface, the winding walks, the flowers with their dewy petals scintillating in the sunlight. Out pulses leapt with pleasurable expectation as every turn brought something fresh into view. Following the main drive from Arawa-street. we found ourselves on the shores of the lake. That particular corn?i was quite hot, and* in some parts the water boiled up against the shore, and clouds of steam rose up from the lake. About the shore and in amongst the titree scrub were pools of boiling water, steam holes, and boiling sand and mud. This was our first glimpse of the thermal wonders, am! very weird they seemed. They were, however, only a mild preliminary to what we were to see. Further in : to the grounds we saw boiling mud holes, weird and repulsive, and deep blue green pools of boiling water. We returned to breakfast, hungry, and delighted with what we had seen. About half-pa st ten we set out to service at the quaint little Maori church at Ohinenvutu. 'The church is built on a

sort of small peninsula, and through the open casement windows on either side we eould see Lake Rotorua, |x»arlv grev, and placid, and a glimpse of grey hills beyond. The service, of coarse, was conducted in Maori. The choir sang beautifully, and the voices were rieh, harmonious, and plaintive. The Maoris certainly understand the art of singing naturally. On Monday morning we had a dip in the Rachel swimming bath, and afterwards had morning tea at the picturesque kiosk in the sanatorium grounds, to the accompaniment of delightful music from an orchestra on the verandah. Our trip to Whakarewarewa was full of charm and wonder. As it is only two miles from Rotorua, we often walked out to "Whaka/* to use the popular abbreviation. It is a place one can visit more than once. The little Maori children diving from the bridge were very amusing. We hail, of course, provided ourselves with pennies, ami to see those children jump from a height of 30ft from the bridge, ihto sft of water, made us catch our breath at first. When we threw the pennies, they all made a dive for the spot, their brown legs wav-

ing fra< l ;< all\, ami then one would com* up, huldiii** the coin aloft in his hand; thru, placing it in the aid*' of his mouth he, with the others, would clamour lot more, crying, ’‘Trow a penny,’’ “Trou c penny.” It serins wonderful to ub that the children do not catc h cold. For I b« most part of the* day they go about airily attired ready to follow their “profession," when a party of visitors conn s along, ami when they are not diving in the cold stream they arc* bathing in hot pool in their reserve. But they wmall healthy, and strong looking, with beautiful shapely limbs, and firm, smooth skins. Our guide' was .Miriam, the* daughter of old Sophia, the famous Maori guide. and she* conducted us round the various sights, explaining everything in themo>t beautiful English. We were charimd with her, and with the whole race, too. Why, the manners of the* average Maori are* above* those of the average European. ’i’he‘ir voices, particularly the* women’s, arc* soft and musical. They are always courteous and a liable, a ml the puritv of their English is delightful to listen to after the twang of the- colonial, the cock

ncy, and the American. 1 like their own language very much, aud intend to learn it. There is one deplorable thing in the Maori ihildreii. and that is lagging. They really beg shockingly. and pa»sesa a strong commercial instinct that detracts from their jiersonalily. I am quite certain the first English word they learn to say is “penny." Why, when We were going to the church at Ohincmiitu we were stopped by two mites, almost outaide the church door, with rolling eyes and outs* retched tongues, panting as they h-'ppvd up and down, ••Penny de tiak,” "penny do hak.” tine, a little boy, Was a mere baby of about two years, and the other a girl only about a year Cr two his s.-nior. livery where the children prater for pennies, and sometimes they do nothing for them. We would give them pennies to sing and dance for us som times, bitt you can never satisfy them. But I do not blame the Maoris for this. It is entirely the fault of the Europeans, and the various tourists that come along certainly enourage begging. But withal those black-eyed little children were very charming and very fascinating. Well, to return to Whaka . The famous Wairoa geyser. Miriam informed us. had stopped playing, and even soaping would not induce it to play. Waikiti and Pohutu were the only active geysers while we wore there. The cauldron of boiling, seething water. 1 cannot remember its name, was one of those horrible things that are yet fascinating. The Devil's Porridge' Pot. a large hole of boiling mud. was more repulsive. The horrid black mud boiled up. and came flown with a sickening "plop.” "plop.” Tile Flower Mud Holes came as a welcome contrast. There the mud was of s pretty creamy colour, and. as it bubbled up. it formed into rose like petals, making a perfect flower for a second or two. A pretty little stream runs through Whaka. and is spanned by a rustic looking bridge. There we beheld hot and cold water side by side, the stream being actually boiling in parts and quite cold in others. Upon a hill above the stream lias been built a Maori pa, and we viewed with interest the primitive, though effective methods of building and defence. We were particularly struck with the little hiveshaped food houses, perched away up on a pole, so as to Ih> out of the reach of animals, I think Miriam told us. On another occasion when we visited Whaka. Maggie P.ipakura showed us into the Maori reserve, and pointed out in particulai .1 large boiling pool which had only ’ | ly :>< eu fenced in. and was now regarded by the Maoris as “tapu,” because Maggie’s uncle fell in one dark Might, nd was never seen again. Maggie said they found his heart and lungs, Bearing 'll l ie p >1 next morning. This s >un Is vet g - ue. does it not, and rail She also showed ti- t ie steam holes where they cooked their *l. ’’’.it I -ball have more to t- s’ tag in my fl - . ui f O iinemutu later on. T view of Whakarewarewa from a c - is i . groups of redroofed huts, among-' ci " . *. >1 columns of steam, al', .te.ibi-t ,i ■■.ukgiounj of sombrely *k . . b is. afr.rij ihi- letter has lengthened c . iera -1.-a: i oil-in Kate, but 4; :-. veil al . find room for it. With I we f. mu—t. misin VIOLET. IDe.r '.on-in Violet, —X quite aglee with you: each fresh person who visits Ito* ?: :.i it in a fresh light. Your ■return: of y . ir visit there is most interesti: -’. and .pens up again one’s own memories of it, beauties and its terrors. 1 do n o .vender tli.it you were impressed with i- beauty of the bush at Mamaku. To g ip there by the morning train from Rotorua. and spend a day miles <>ut in the busu. adds a special feature to the ordinary Rotorua trip. If one ba, a friend connected with any of the tim’> . m.. 1, there, and can arrange for <■ lift it on one of the timber trucks, partaking a bu-ii luncheon, with tea out of a ..suasion- enamel teapot, and speni _• t early afternoon watching the t über hauling and collecting those exquisite Prime of Wales' feather ferns v'a. ii abound there, One has a truly enjoyable time. The evening express brings one Xm.k in time for dinner. 1 t.rriix ■...- ' of trees is exquisite. One can hardly believe that they do not pos-e,s a consciousness of their own at times. But I think that for sheer vitality of expression the of taa Su.n.ag Lush under the ■■miner’, fui suushiae is mast conviuo-

ing, don't you? 1 can well imagine your rushing on to the platform when you came in sight of the lake and town of Rotorua. It retniniks me of Mr-. Browning, who confessed that she would ‘‘never wait to untie .* jiarvel, hut must cut the string.” 1 can jiL-t feel myself going down that swift decline, and see the sun slipping liehind the mountains as you describe it all; and how cold you must have felt at least. I did! I am very glad to hear that C ousin Hilda's indisposition did not continue. How trying for her to be ill in a boardinghouse! But 1 think people are often very kind when in a boarding-house in case of sickness, don’t you? Do yon know, the prettiness of Rotorua surprised me? Somehow 1 had not anticipated it. The sanatorium grounds are really exquisite; those rocky pools ,end a touch most charming. When the grounds arc'lit in front of the kiosk for a moonlight concert, the soft glow of the lanterns reflected in the pools is lovely. That little church nt Ohinemutu with the lake breeze coming in at the open windows, the full, melodious chorus of unspoiled human voices, the sometimes extraordinary crudeness of Maori attire —all of it comes before the mind again as you describe your morning there. And nothing is more memorable, perhaps, than the courteous welcome which we received at the hands of the natives, who even sat ou the floor to give room to thei.- visitors, for the church was full as it was the occasion of Rev. Bennett’s ordination. I quite agree with you that the begging habit is a very lead one for the Maori children to be encouraged in. though I don’t recollect that they troubled us so much. 1 aqi so sorry you did not see Wairoa in action. It is an extraordinary experience to see it and feel the turmoil of it. Some of our party were really frightened the day we saw it. but then perhaps you saw Waikiti and Pohutu. 1 rather fancy the cauldron you name would lie Pohutu's cauldron. We had to run away from him. for he boiled right over. That heart and lungs narrative is rich! Fancy their being delivered up to recognition by the discriminating pool. In pleasant anticipation of your next letter.—Yours affectionately. Cousin Kate.]