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The Spike: or, Victoria College Review, June 1909

A Tragedy of Spring

page 48

A Tragedy of Spring.

(With apologies to Taine)

IIt was mid September and the first blush of spring bad thrown its mantle over a landscape scarce bereft of its winter garments. A cool south-easterly breeze stole over the horizon and tempered the banging air; the sky was unspeakably blue and a smiling sun poured its beneficial rays over hill and dale and laughing water. Below lay the placid harbour whose amethyst blue merged into the emerald green of the hutt valley and beyond a silver stream wound its tortuous length from the snow fields of the Rimutakas On the nearer Tinakoris , along whose eastern crests shadows were already creeping, fields of rolling green were gaily decked with golden gorse. Nor were the environs less gay. The early coming of Spring had already changed the green trees to a mass of tender foliage and included shy blossoms to give their dainty faces to brighten a tame and prosaic world.

In yonder nodding bay tree a thrush twitted his plaintive song and sped down the mountain side; while overhead a lark—ethereal pilgrim—poured forth his inmost soul in melodious tones of unpremeditated art.

I lay outstretched upon the springy turf of the kelburne Gardens and in that seene where every prospect pleased I felt the world was glad.

On such a day 'tis good to be a child of nature — to toil not nor to spin. But alas men delve and sweat the brow and in the end it is as it was in the beginning. Nature grows unheeded in the streets and man's vision is by smoke bedimmed.

"A primrose by the river's brim
A simple primrose is to him
And nothing more."

Throughout the fleeting years each day he toils, and sleeps and toils, and eats to live, and this be calls his life, The placid beanty of dawn, the radiant glory of noon, and the starry silence of the night, what are they to him? His course is run and the world rolls on. Life for me is in the bills immemorial, in the land where it is always afternoon and where dreams never come true. To travel hopefully is better than to attain.

But who is this who slowly mounts the slope, halting to examine with botanic eye the umbrageons shrub and with insistent rattan eagerly prodding the unwilling cowslips. Short of stature, earless of dress, with over handing bushy eyebrow that hides an eagle eye, he walked with the swaying stride of a page 49 man of middle age. At sight of me be quickly his course and coming up greeted me effusively. "Good morning, friend ! It is pleasing to see at least one other devotee of nature abroad on such a day." I at first, resented the intrusion, but as his eye seemed kind and his manner Bohemian , we soon fell to discussing topics of mutual interest and in the end I found myself strolling with him along Salamanca Road. Nearing Victoria College, be volunteered the information that he was a member of the Professional Staff of that institution and extended to me an invitation to inspect his domain; an invitation gladly accepted. He led the way across the terraced college ground, through palatial corridors throughed with pale-faced students (who gazed at me with mingled amazements and surprise) to his cosy study in the science buildings. Seating himself in a large arm chair be pressed upon me liquid refreshment. We talked for a few moments began to tighten my head reeled, and the thought flashed through my brin that I had been poisoned.

Enraged, I endeavoured to rouse myself, but to no purpose and I fell back limply. A languid feeling stole over me and all the pleasant recollections of my life crowded into my brain. Then my eyes grew dim the professor faded from sight, and then—

* * * *

It was mid September and the first blush of spring had thrown its mantle over a landscape scarce bereft of its winter garments. In the biological laboratory at Victoria College were to be seen an elderly lady and her two daughters being conducted round by a professor of Bohemian appearance. Interestedly they gazed upon jar after jar of specimens. Pausing before one somewhat larger than the others, the professor remarked." This is a specimen of the species canine pugi or puki which students facetious sly call potted pug." The elderly lady gazed as if entranced and then with a piercing shriek shouted , "Oh my along lost Fido!" and clasping the jar with both arms, fainted into the arms of the professor.