CLEVEDON.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 6, Issue 323, 2 November 1917, Page 2

CLEVEDON.

" MOUNT BROWNE." (By Bip Van Winkle) It was Dora's first visit to Steepyhollow, and glancing over an old copy of the "Okipoki Times" he? curiosity was aroused by an item of news, drawing attention to the most exceptional view to be obtained from the summit of Mount Browne. Nothing would do but that I must take her to see this view, and having been cajoled into the belief that my beard was not as gray as I believed it to be, and that I was not really getting old and stiff, I eventually promised to chaperon her to the summit. And so we started out.

Nothing of event occurred until we gained the entrance to the Reserve, when, having loudly knocked at the massive portals, we waited. After some little time the Guides' Cabin, far up the mountain's side, showed signs of life, and its door swinging op?n a guide of fairylike proportions (weighing some twenty stone) emerged, and tripping lightly down the tortuous path, swung open the Taranaki gate, and bowing low, ushered us into the precinta of the much talked of reserve. "This way," quoth our guide, " there is as yet no proper path, thanks to the push~ and go of our Road Board, but I am writing the Press, and am doing very well so far, and am hoping for results before next century. Mind that kauri log, Miss; it's certainly v?ry difficult to see one's way, as the bush does not shine. Straight ahead, this way—jußt climb up this tree, slip down that barb wire swinging over the creek, and there you are." We slipped! But it was not along the barb wire, but on a patch of clay, its surface being at an angle of about sixty degrees. After we had sorted ourselves out, we continued—apparently for hundreds of miles—until we finally reached the point of our objective, and then our guide, when he had finally got his second—or possibly it was his third—wind, gazed around with a sigh of happy content, and evidently being overcome with the spring feeling, he burst into song. The tune I did not recognise, but the words reminded me of my childhood days, and for a moment I could see the well thumbed volume of Mother Goose's Nursery Rhymes, for the song ran: — This is the road that Sam made; This is the mud that lay on the road that Sam made; This is the crab that sidestepped in the mud that lay on the road that Sam made; This is the man, who's name was Sam, that chased the crab, that sidestepped in the mud, that lay on the road that Sam made; This is the wind that blew unkind upon the man who's name was Sam, that chased the crab, that sidestepped in the mud that lay on the road that Sam made. This is the guide way overcome by the harrowing emotions aroused by the rememberances of his troubles with the crab, and he broke down. (Thank Heaven) At last he recovered his equanimity "and now, Miss," said hj«, "you have before you the finest view in the world—and I think I may say the finest view in Cle— in Sleepy-, hollow. Behold ! A view second to none. Ceylon—the garden of the world—can only claim second place to what you now see Yonder you have in the west Rangitoto, over which the sun rising in its glory sets the whole of

" But I thought the sun rose in i the east," said Dora. "Ah! That is in the northern hemisphere—where the new chums come from—" said our guide, always wishful to impart useful information, " but when Jonathan—or was it Josuah —commanded the sun to stand still while the Kaiser took his place on it, he—through a piece of crass stupidity—got his gears mixed, and had the reverse in when he started up again, and so— But as I was saying—yonder is Rangitoto. Eh? What's that ? No 1 That's not Rangitoto, that's the night-soil tip at Papakura. Yonder we have the South Island, Stewart Island, and with a little imagination you can see Central Europe; there are the Houses of Parliament at Wellington, and—Whats that ? Oh yes, the old Parliament was at Auckland. Why two Parliaments? Oh, that was Noah's idea, he always likes two of everything; we are going to have two cloak rooms to the hall someday. What ? Oh no! You have to hang your hat up on the floor at present. But, as I say, there you see the Valley of the Ness—where the blackberries come from; yonder is the so called road to "the Tiri of the Whaka" called by the vulgar •' Whakatiri," where the crabs come from. "Oh!" said Dora, "I thought that was the mud lakes at Kotorua." " No, I made them a road down there " said the guide. " You didn't make much of a job of it," said Dora. " Oh, it was a good road when I was bossing it" said the guide, " but I was hunting crabs down there, and I got after one big chap, but couldn't catch him: he kept side-stepping, and then hid behind the public opinion of my character." " Perhaps that's what made the road so rough." said Dora. " Perhaps!" said the guide, " perhaps!" and then he fell into a ' browne' study, from which he was awakened by Dora exclaiming, *' oh! what's that dear little pond over there" ? " That's the Hauraki Gulf" was the reply. " What's that imposing building down there" ? asked Dora, "is it the Town Hall" ? "No; that's Gee's Smithy" said the guide, " that's the Hall with the holes in the fence in front of it" "Oh ! said Dora (she was fond of saying ' Oh ' as a prefix to her questions) " just look at that dear little Dreadnought down there; is it the H.M.S. New Zealand ?" "And, oh! there's the Admiral taking cases of shells on board." " Not so," said the guide, " that s the s.s. Hirere, and that's Willie taking his weekly lot of butter on board."

" Does he eat all that butter in a week ?'' asked Dora ' No," said the guide, 11 it's the product of the local factory going away to be " •' Oh, my! " said Dora, who had

lost interest in butter, " just look 'at that lovely switchback, and there's a car switching along, it." " That is not a, switchhscih" said the guide, " tie North road—another piece of crass stupidity." "And where is the Cave ? " asked Dora", " I should just love to sea it ?" "It's not. open to visitors just now," said our guide, " as the Road Board is using it as a sleeping place; but no doubt when I have shaken it up a bit, and got things going, you will be able to view its interior; it is well worth seeing, as there are many curiosities therein—crabs, old fossils, robbers, quarry snatchers, poets, dust storms, and lots of things." And then we came away, and as we left our guide we heard him quoting more poetry in the distance: I am monach of all I survey ; My right only John will dispute; From the centre all round, as you see, I have done a lot more than J. ! Luke. Oh gratitude! where's the reward, The Road Board denies to my face ? You havn't one metal road, Since you let Mr Luke steal my place " This set me making poetry on my own, and I muttered : " Tweedledum and Tweedledee they fought a furious battle, 'Cause Tweedledum said Tweedledee had stole his nice road metal!" —But once more—" Enough.