Time for a Train Ride!
Country and Family Ties.

We had recently a most interesting letter from a country correspondent, asking for a copy of the Magazine, which was duly sent. In acknowledging it, the following revealing information was given:—

“I expect you'll hardly believe me when I say it is nearly nine years since I was on a train! And it's not because I've patronised the service cars instead. It's just that I have not been anywhere, except to our nearest township by cream lorry. As a child I used to have a lot to do with railways and railway people. We lived at Ormondville and Makotuku, on the Napier-Wellington line, and for years my father worked on railway bridges (at 6/- a day, I believe) and came home once a month. He used to live in one of those little huts they carry on the train (‘cabooses’ we called them then). Then he got a job plate-laying near home at 8/- a day. Many a time I've ‘run the length’ with him on a jigger early in the morning. I believe it's not allowed now—perhaps it wasn't then! Going over the big bridges was quite a thrill. One of my uncles was a guard, too. Then my father left the certainty of railway work for the uncertainty of farming in the King Country. We came up in 1906, before the Main Trunk was finished.

“I notice you address me as ‘Miss.’ As I have eight children, ranging from twenty-five to four years, I had better explain I am ‘Mrs.’”