FOR THE CHILDREN.

Auckland Star, Volume LVII, Issue 138, 12 June 1926, Page 28

FOR THE CHILDREN.

BUBBLES.

(j. m. McGregor,) Jean sat on the garden seat and blew 1 bubbles, her mind idly following each one as it floated away. One by one the breeze carried them away till they broke into a million pieces and were gone. Then came one bigger and better than any of the others. The evening breeze wafted it up, then dropped it, and caught it again to carry it up still higher. Then again it would fall to be caught before it bumped on* the grass and was broken. Jean, fascinated, watched the strange antics. All the. while the bubble was growing bigger and bigger. Then appeared a man's face—round, fat and smiling. Still he grew bigger and smiled more. "Oh, Bubble Boy, do be careful, or | you will burst," Jean said, jumping up anxiously. And then with a splutter the bubble broke and a round, fat Bubble man stood in front of Jean. "Come," he said, "to Bubble Land." He pulled her towards the west where a magic staircase was almost hidden from view by the sunset mists. Hand in hand they ran up it, through a clouddoor at the top and into Bubble Land. Everywhere the Bubble Folk were tumbling over each other in their hurry. Each one seemed very busy and each one seemed to always be bumping his neighbour. "This is Bubble Land," the fat Bubble Boy said, waving his arms high over his head. "These," he pointed to the Bubbles, "are making more bubbles to put in the clay pipes for the earth children to blow." Jean watched closely, wondering how they did it, but she could not follow their quick movements. "You could not do it. Earth children never can," the Bubble Boy said proudly. They went through another door. "This is where they polish the bubbles," he said. The room was full of bubbles of all sizes and shapes. From the floor to the ceiling they were piled. The Bubble folk were working with a will' to polish them till they reflected every sunset gleam. "Mummy would love some of that to polish her floors," Jean said, half hoping the Bubble Boy would give her a sample. "Oh, that is quite a simple recipe," he said. "Just some Midnight Dew rubbed on with a piece of Morning Mist." And he shrugged his shoulders as if such a simple thing was not worth speaking of. The next room they visited was the nursery. Here all the Bubble babies lived until they were big enough to work with the others. The very tiny ones were playing with bubble balls. Some of the bigger ones were learning to make bubbles, whilei others were trying to polish them. Sometimes they rubbed too hard and broke them, and the mother Bubble scolded them and told them to try again. "How very wonderful," Jean said solemnly. "Yes, aren't they? That is why I brought you up here to see them," the conceited Bubble Boy replied. He opened another door and pointed to the staircase, "The way home," he said, and gave Jean a push. Down she went, bubbles flying all round her, till bump! She was sitting on the grass with the soapy bubble water streaming all round her. HERE, BOYS! JUST A MOMENT! Don't yon let .other boys say to yon. "How can it matter whatever yon do? There are millions of other boys In this ' world. i To hustle and bustle Is most absurd! Why should you labour with doubts and fears ? ' •Twill be all the same in a hundred years." ; That's where they make the great mistake. I'm sure that Froblsher, Raleigh or Drake ' Would never have talked to you like that. : Life Is too short for such idle chat— And of all the miUions, no, not one Can take your place as your father's son! : —8.8. W. MY DOLLY AND I. i like to ntend my dolly'a clothes, I tell her everything she knows. I teach her how to be polite And hold her knife and fork Just right. • And how to do the things she should To be considered very good. I have to teach her well, you see, For everything depends on mc. —PKINGLH BARRET.

THROUGH THE DOORS. Michael's father and mother.were in India, so he lived with some kind, fat people in the country, called Watts. Now Mr. and Mrs. Watts never got excited about anything, or wondered, or 1 told any stories, and when Mrs. Watts, : who nearly always wore a fawn mackintosh, told Michael she was taking him to London for a day to get his photograph taken to send to Mummy, she did not seem pleased. She just said, "Oh, no! There will be no time to see the Zoo. We'll go straight up, and come straight down again."' The day came for the London trip. j Mickey's heart beat fast. As he sat in the train he promised himself that he'd explore as much as possible. Mickey always longed to go through every door he saw, and he resolved to look through as many as he could. , It was fun when they arrived, even the photograph was fun, but, best of all, was the moment when Mrs. Watts left him in Trafalgar Square by a fountain, while she paid a quick visit to>her solicitor near by. "_en minutes, and I'll be back, Michael," she cried, disappearing into the crowd. "All right," cried Mickey. He looked keenly around and saw the magic of everything. He felt that he was an explorer in London, with very little time. Where should he go first? His eyes fell on a grey church, and he made for it. He met a lady hurrying up the steps and asked her the name of the church. She seemed surprised and said, "Thiß is St. Martin's-in-the-Fields. See, the doors are not shut. This is the church that is always open to let tired people come in to rest and pray." Michael was very much interested. He stood by the doors and fingered the brass knobs, which had brass horsemen on them. Welcoming doors I "I think I shall.make a collection of drawings of doors when I get back," thought Michael, going down the steps. Then he suddenly remembered about the door in "Alice in Wonderland," which was only fifteen inches high and opened with a golden key. He smiled. One glance back at the fountain. No Mrs. Watts yet. Hurray! He ran round a corner, hoping for adventure, and discovered a foreign stamp shop bearing across its glass door in gilt letters a name he had known ever since he had begun his stamp collection. Mickey dashed through this door.- He hadn't a penny. But there was a pleasant girl behind the counter who showed him a rare brown Tobago stamp he'd always wanted to see. Wasn't it glorious? Somehow or other, he found himself near a big yellow building, and here was another door, and it was open. As he looked, an ambulance.' carrying a. little girl in it, went down the yard, He 6tared through the door, and saw a long passage with a green tesselated floor, and right at the end people in rows waiting. Written' up were the words, "Charing Cross Hospital." So this was the place where, so many ill folk came to be made better! These were kind doors, with their thick panes of glass,. .Mickey, rushed off . more thrilled than ever.v ■_< Now what was that«iohg,= grey house at one side of the -Square? Mickey explored; swiftly, swiftly?, for'finfe War flying. 'More steps, several doors. He went through one ofiijaem, V,|>ass"jßd "by \\ a turnstile, flew .up-'a'-staircase,: looked through yet another' door, and 7 saw pictures, pictures! And right opposite the painting of an eager angel," in soft rose colour. ' "When I'm grown up I shall be an explorer, and on my holidays I shall , make beautiful doors to lead to beautiful places," decided Mickey, tearing down the National Gallery steps. "With a little, glass that everybody may. see; and lots of fine carving. Daddy and ' Mother will be back from India, and Daddy says that he and I will have a workshop of our own, Now let mc see; how many different woods can I remember? Oak, mahogany, deal, cedar, aeh, alder, birch, maple, walnut, magnolia. How jolly they sound!" He found Mrs. Watts just arriving by the fountain. Even she noticed a door, for she took Mickey through one, into a baker's shop, and there they ate ices before going home. The explorer chose a strawberry.