The Spike: or, Victoria University College Review, October 1916

Correspondence

Correspondence.

[" Disgusted" aptly voices the opinion of a large number of correspondents, whose letters want of space forbids us to publish.— Ed.]

Wellington, 20th September, 1916.

Dear Mrs. Spike,—

D'ye mean to say they'd cut them down, those trees that overlook the town, and all because they spoil the light in that one corner to the right! Why, do they know those trees have stood, the faithful remnant of a wood, while we were still the old clay patch, without a wall, without a thatch! Those trees looked on and softly swayed with pleasure while our Stone was laid. Those trees have cast their welcome shade upon that treasured Old Brigade to whom we're all eternal debtors, who worked on Saturdays in sweaters and cut their leisure moments short to pick away another court that these disgruntled boys might play their tennis on a distant day; the Frog and Dixon, big Gillanders, and men who're fighting now in Flanders. Our glorious dead, what would they say if those old trees were cut away! And if with light they interfere, what of the games of yesteryear, as good as any that they play on that same tennis court to-day? "Our roll, is young, a little pup, and wants traditions growing up," so say they all and then they frown and straightway want to cut them down.

Dear Mrs. Spike, I'm growing old and may perhaps be rather bold the younger blood to chide and scold, but rather than those trees cut down, I'd see them There and frizzling brown, and if they think they're going to get 'em, why dammit woman, don't lot's let 'em. Let's fight against it till we're busted.

I am, dear lady,

Yours, Disgusted.

[ Mrs. Spike" entirely agrees with "Disgusted" and thanks him for his vigorous expression of opinionEd.]