IN TIME OF STORM

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 291, 29 February 1928, Page 6

IN TIME OF STORM

I have a fire in my room to-night—-a rare favour—and it is burning brightly and showering a golden-red light all over my little room. I am curled up on the window-seat with a .rug, three apples, and my new book. Outside the wind is howling and whistling through the trees and the rain is dashing wildly against the win-dow-panes. I have no light on. I think that firelight looks so subtle and friendly, flickering and dancing in all the dark corners and casting long shadows on the shining floor. I love storms. This one reminds me of an incident that I have never forgotten. It was in London about seven years ago. We were out in a sledge on a stormy day and went racing down a long, steep, snow-covered hill. We seemed to be flying on air and the wind wliistled past and stung our faces. I felt as if something in me, deep down, seemed to leap out and wrestle with the storm. . . . My fire is little more now than a dim red glow. From its isolated light I speed my message to the ever-glowing lire of friendship at the Wigwam round which the Children of Redfeather cluster in happy Comradeship. May its light never dim, but-leap up with the passage of time. —BLUE MOON. A PHENOMENON An astronomer from Ontario has seen something very novel in the way of a lightning flash. During a thunderstorm a flash of lightning started from the sky quite white, and about half way to the earth turned to a vivid green colour.