The Country Cousin

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 851, 20 December 1929, Page 8 (Supplement)

The Country Cousin

By

“D.W.”

BN ideal holiday? Give me shops and houses! Street after street of shops let there be. For 50 weeks of the year Fate has cast my lines in the quiet countryside. Row upon row of houses let there be because for 50 weeks in the year my nearest neighbour’s low roof is half a mile away. There are crowds of people in my best-loved holiday, the sound of their voices, and the echo of many feet. There are gay city lights stream ing across the pavements, adding their brightness to the gaiety of the happy holiday throng. There are theatres—the glittering entrances, the muted strains of seductive music, the sheen of silken frocks, and the filmy softness of laces. There are restaurants too—with soft shaded lights, and

upon the tables exotic flowers amid the gleam of silver and the sparkle of polished crystal. And oh, the shops ot my holiday! Sophisticated and beguiling they are, their wares displayed with cunning artistry. Flaunting and gay are they, and the spaciousness,, and coolness within is almost overwhelming to one accustomed to dusty little stores, with their crowded haphazard collection of goods. I love the houses of my holiday, and even the pavements, hard and firm, that skirt them. Who says that country feet ache for the grass-grown track? Give me dwellings, each nestling cosily close to its neighbour. The prim little garden plots, the neatly-clipped squares oL : grass, and the well-svifept paths. I am alone, but never lonely as I pass by gate after gate. My footsteps echo cheerily, and the long shadows thrown by the friendly houses enwrap me in their embrace. What though the sun shines stronger here and the grass is a brighter green? What though the stately trees fling high their boughs against a bluer sky? My neighbour's roof is half a mile away, and few are the footsteps that pause beside my door.