The Spike or Victoria University College Review June 1926
O laith, faith were our gude Scots lords
To wet their cork-heel'd shoon:
But land or a the play was play'd
They wat their hats aboon.
We mourn the loss of two of our most enthusiastic members, namely, Mr. R. F. Fortune and Mr. H. R. Holt. The former has gone to Vienna to make use of his Travelling Scholarship in Arts, and the latter has gone to America, more or less on holiday.
Our programme has continued to attract many. We offer a few items concerning it.
Butterfly Stream was noted chiefly for its sylvan charm and for its cheerful banter.
Papatahi Trig was a grand peak, but not worthy of the dread in which it had been held.
Kapakapanui was a "wash out." but a cheerful outing all the same.
Mt. Cecil-the botanist's paradise.
Smith's Creek has been spoilt by the laying down of a footpath through its wild majesty. Soon some enterprising person will start a store at Smith's Creek. But the surrounding forest has not yet recognised the presence of this stranger, and still remains in all its natural majesty.
The Tararuas have already had their first dusting of snow, and our party made a very successful crossing at the end of last term. The snow was thin and powdery owing to intense cold, but fine weather conditions. More than one impromptu bath was indulged in.
We found this in a local paper:—
This is the tryst I keep, through nights of rain
With summer days long fled;
Beside my fire of brazing logs, to dream
Of little fires instead;
Of little fires made friendly by the gloom
Of forests steeped in night.
Bright flames that through the long warm evening knew
No need save to delight;
The crimson buds that for a season bloomed
Within the wilderness,
Kindled by hands that sought for days of toil
A moment of redress.
Of these I dream, and happy hearts of men
Who keep their childhood proof
Against the years, by fostering no claim
To four walls and a roof.
Their friendly voices talking in the dark,
The calm simplicity
Of white stars looking down—these have I known,
And these come back to me,
And all the little camp fires are as eyes
That blink across the gloom
Of friendless winter nights—to leave a dream
Of summer in my room.
You freshers, what is the matter with you? Of course, many of you are working during the day and have your spare time badly encroached on, but do you realise what University life ought to mean to you? You whole-timers—surely you don't think that the sole aim of a University is to provide degrees to be won by swot. Wake up then and realise that your College exists really to give you a chance of rubbing shoulders with your fellow beings, and that this is the finest period in your life. Join a Club and find out what a happy institution you belong to. Join the Tramping Club and enjoy the happiest of institutions.