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On the Kiwi

In the Library Window

"O Kiwi shall I call thee bird ?"—Wordsworth Nix.

As a born New Zealander I have been of late perturbed by what would seem to be a direct attack upon the wellbeing of our avifauna. Not only do I read alarmist reports, of rapidly dwindling tuis huias, etc., but even the Government has gone so far as to erect a memorial on our coinage "with uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd " to the about-to-be-dear-departed kiwi (Apteryx). But there are reasons for his decay. Surely any self-respecting bird must recoil before such gross-misrepresentation, such studied insult as is given it by the caricature in the library window. I doubt very much whether 50 per cent, of V.U.C. know that there IS a kiwi in the library window, much less an aviary, but in any case of all these the kiwi undoubtedly takes the bird.

The " 'keewee,' an Australian bird which cannot fly" (to quote an American cousin) and a name applied, in the last-war-but-six, to dud aviators, is a most remarkable beastie. It has sausage-shaped body, vaguely reminiscent of a baby's bottle whereto are affixed legs like those of a Noah's Ark animal and a disproportionate beaky head like an elephant's trunk. According as to the direction in which one's tastes lie, the "tout ensemble" may recall a ham (not necessarily Weir brand) with its shank bent or merely the prosaic retort. A better sample of Apterycian art is, I understand, to be seen in far-off Southern England, where a Kiwi, carved on a chalk hillside by our aviators has been given such high praise as to drown even that of the famed White Horse. In justice to the glazier, I may add that aforesaid Kiwi, in the window, is of such dull plumage as to be easily missed, and that compared with the mysterious New Zealand birds which adorn other panels is at least recognizable as endemic (endemic one might add to V.U.C. rather than N.Z.).

Poor bird ! Alas ! What it must have suffered up there in the fugginess all these years, slighted and scorned by dull, blear-eyed, scribbling idiots below. And, worst of all, in spite of wistful expression and bedraggled tail, with its soul burning with patriotic fervour—Not understood !

Narly.