Green and gold … and Wattle blossom—
Orange, umber, mauve
Filt'ring through the misted shadows
Of Spring's treasure-trove:
Peeping, glancing;
Creeping, dancing;
Amber'd sunbeams rove.
Sunshine red … and Wattle blossom—
Hark, the Bellbird's rune!
Where the Blue-wren flirts and twitters.
And Cicadas swoon
In the creamy,
Balmy, dreamy,
I'erfum'd breath of noon.
Sighing leaf … and Wattle blossom—
Tui's magic bell
Ringing through the scented spaces,
Through the shaded dell:
Silv'ry belling,
Sweetly swelling,
As the mists dispel.
Emerald … and Wattle blossom—
Daisies smile below,
Hiding in their satin petals
Secrets of the snow;
Garned'd nightly,
Stolen lightly,
When the Moon droops low.
Flaming west … and Wattle blossom—
Sunset's painted flight;
Skies a blaze of crimson glory
Scintillant in light.
Drowsing, swinging,
Clust'ring, clinging
Wattle-blooms—then Night!

“Sensible Negotiation”

Three or four years ago there was much talk in the Home Press of the “fight” which was then being waged in Britain between the rail and the road carriers. To-day road competition still worries the railways, but most of the “fighting” has given way to sensible negotiation over the conference table, and almost every day, fresh working agreements are being come to between the Home railways and the road carriers, aiming at the elimination of competition and the co-ordination of their respective services.—From our London Correspondent.

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