BIRTHDAY SPECIALS.

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 164, 13 July 1929, Page 2 (Supplement)

BIRTHDAY SPECIALS.

THE WINNING STORIES

MANY WELL TOLD TALES

Exceptionally good stories were submitted for the "Birthday Special," in fact one story, "Our Sister," by Ruby Lyndon, has been withdrawn from the competition, and will appear in "Enxed Junior." After some consideration, the three guinea prizes have been awarded to: Kathleen Neely, 34, .West End Road, Heme Bay, age 17; Bessie Spooner, 187, Green Lane West, age 16; and Sheila Quinn, Tennyson Street, Mount Eden, age 15. A special prize of £1 1/ has been awarded to Doris Brown, Fenton Street, Stratford, age 15, for her most entertaining and seasonal story, "The Party."

Other very good stories were sent in by: Jean Barclay, Mount Eden; H. L. Heatley, Onehunga; T. Gates, Parnell; Phyllis Crowley, Ponsonby; Charles Taylor, Waikiekie; Joyce Prenter, Ngongotaha; Teresa Mullins, Karangahape Road; and Arthur Lancaster, Huntly.

AH who sent in stories that were accepted will receive cash prizes.

THE PARTY.' j SPECIAL PRIZE. (By Doris Brown, Fenton Street, Stratford, age 15.) A cheeky little sunbeam danced on the Budget Baby's nose. "Wake up, sleepy," it said (to the baby, not the nose) "You're three to-day, and I've come to wish you many happy returns." The Budget Baby opened one sleepy eye —blue of course. Who ever knew a baby that hadn't blue eyes?—and made a grab at the sunbeam. "Hullo," he said, "what are you doing here? I haven't seen a sunbeam for weeks." "Don't you know?" asked the sunbeam, hopping cut of the baby's reach. (The Budget Baby had a habit of putting things in his mouth). "It's your birthday, and Peter ordered a fine day." "O-o-o-o!" said the baby. There was a knock at the door, then Wendy peeped softly in. "He's awake," she said, and in came and Peter, and John and Michael, all loaded up with presents. The baby gave up attempting to catch the sunbeam, and after one astonished gurgle, began biting his toe. All the gifts were put on his cot and the Budget Baby crowed with delight. Mrs. Budget came in soon and stopped him from sucking the paint off the grey elephant's trunk.

All tliat day the Budget house was in a turmoil. The baby toddled everywhere and in everyone's way. "Oh, do go away," cried Wendy, pulling him out by the leg from a case of greenery and carrying him out to the lawn. There the Croc, was sleeping under a shady tree, a most innocent expression on his face, even though he had just eaten the nails. "Here, Croc, 100k 1 after the Budget and don't eat his teddy," said Wendy, depositing the baby on a rug. Shouts came from inside the house. *Who's taken the nails? Hi! Wendy. What on earth have you done with the nails?"

"Oh, goodness!" exclaimed Wendy. 'That's Peter," and she rushed inside. Tink's grandmother was hard at work making'the cake. You didn't think she had one? But, of course, all fairies do. They never die «o what did you suppose happened to their grandmothei s ? "Peter," she said as severely as possible, "will you stop eating the raisins? How am I to make a cake if you eat all the fruit?" ' , „ , "Oh, I just took one or ne returned. "Have you seen the nails?" Meanwhile, out 011 the lawn, the baby and the Croc were having a great time. "Have you ever been in the water, the Croc asked. "I have. Now that goldfish pond over there looks gather nice. Coming?"- I

"Ess," said the Budget. "Right-ho," then. Hop on my back!" The baby climbed up and they lumbered off. With a "Hold tight" the Croc slid over the edge. He swam round gently for a while, till tlie baby saw a goldfish. "I wants a fishy," lie cried. "No. Just you stick tight, youne 'un," cried the Croc, alarmed. But it wasn't any good. The Budget wanted a "fishy" and a "fishy" he meant to have. He climbed off the Croc's back. It was not very deep and he crawled round after the goldfish. "Isn't it time for the Budget's sleep ?" asked Tink from the ceiling, where she was hanging a Chinese lantern. "By Jove!" exclaimed Wendy and banged her thumb. "I forgot all about him. Left him on the lawn with the Croc." She rushed out to the lawn. There j was only the rug and the teddy. From J the goldfish pond came delighted gurgles. She ran over to it. Sitting in the water, holding a wriggling goldfish by the tail, was the Budget baby. "You naughty,. bad boy," cried Wendy, hugging, and kissing him. .You're sopping' wet. What will your mother say?" "'Ook at itny pitty fishy," said the baby, giving it a shake so that it wriggled more. "Oh," said Wendy, "put the poor little fishy back," It was half an hour before the baby stopped crying. In the afternoon the guests arrived. Ginger Meggs brought a rabbit's foot, but the Budget tried to eat it, which caused Mrs. Budget a great deal of anxiety. Towards • five' o'clock they all trooped into the dining room. There was a long table loaded with every good thing imaginable, but, in spite of that, a cry went up from everyone—the lost boys. ■ Fanny, Min, Horace, Tiggy, even Felix. "Where's the birthday cake?" The Croc was stretched in a corner. He looked rather sleepy and was licking his lips. "Oh, Croc, you haven't eaten it!" cried Wendy. "Do say you haven't." "Best I ever tasted," said the Croc, dreamily. Then there was a heavy knock at the door. Slowly Tink opened it. "Only another guest, I suppose," said Wendy, sadly. . But no. It was P.C. Riley, leading a hatless Tiger Kelly by the left ear. In his hand he carried a parcel—the Budget's birthday cake. "Thought something was up," he explained. "Tiger Kelly ■ running along with a parcel and without his hat." Everyone asked the worthy policeman to stay to the party. "Such a noble feat must not go unrecognised," cried Peter. "But what happened to Tiger's hat?" I "Best I ever tasted," eaM the Croc.