e^ 



^^^ © APPENDIX. 



Literature. 



THE BREATH OF SPRING. 



URELY it was a far-reaching thought that brought the glad breath 

 of spring into the very hub of the city — to the very steps of th? 

 General Post Office. 



Have you seen the scarcely-c'othed Waratahs coyly hiding by the flower- 

 stands? They have but come early to whisper in the spring-time a promise of 

 the glory and magnificence th ir younger sisters shall appear in in the near 

 summer days to come. Poor half-clothed Waratahs ! But little beauty have 

 ye in the hurry of your coming; yet I !ove you. I have been away so long. 

 Only once in twelve long years have I seen an Aust alian flower. 1 was last 

 year looking in a florist's window in a far country, and there, 'midst masses of 

 roses and violets, I saw one single, stately flower that set my heart aching, and 

 filled my eyes with scalding tears. 'Twas a great, glorious Waratah. Blindly 

 I stumbled into the shop. " Where did you get that Waratah? " I asked. The 

 florist answered, in broken English, " It was frozen, and brought from Australia." 

 I opened my purse. " How much is it? " " Oh, it is not for sale; 'tis only on 

 exhibition. It has brought many jieople to our window, and has sold us many 

 flowers." I passed into the cafe beyond. I would hide behind a screen and wipe 

 my overbrimming eyes. I was home-sick. " You come from the land of the 

 big red flower? " a maid asked curidusly, as she brought me coffee and fruit. 

 I nodded. " Is it a good land — the land of the big red flower? " " A good 

 land? Oh, a glorious land ! " I said; " and I — I am homesick. The flower has 

 made me need my land so badly." I was leaving my untouched dish of fruit 

 when the florist came to me — with the Waratah. " Will you please take from 

 me the flower of your land that you 'ove so much? " I was bewildered with 

 gratitude and joy. How I loved that Waratah ! I have its faded petals yet. 

 So you see why I love you, red, hiding harbingers. I have been away long years. 

 You seem to me the echo of someone's whisper. One only knows the loveliness 

 of our coiuUry who has been away and has come back — home ! 



Look at the native loses there in fulles*: view on the \-ery topmost slicH' ! 

 Long years ago I didn't like y(ju much, little native roses. I even begrudged you 

 your name. But 1 have been away, and now I know^ your sweet, sweet biauty. 



