SNOWMAN'S LAND.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 1, 2 January 1937, Page 3 (Supplement)

SNOWMAN'S LAND.

(By AGNES L. WINSKELL.)

Although it was Christmas morning, and the first week of her holiday at the bay. Margaret felt far from "satisfied with herself. The beach was crowded with people, among them dozens of boys and girls, who were laughing and splashing about in the sea, or heaping the hot, white sand into castles and boring tunnels through from one side to the other. Margaret had been in swimming, and afterwards had made a huge castle with turrets, but Eric—you know what brothers are —had run up, laughing and teasing, and had put his foot in the middle of it. Margaret, of course, was very annoyed, and nearly cried, so she was feeling very discontented when she dropped down on the sand and began reading the new story-book she had founrid that morning in her stocking. It was called "Bobbie's Snowman," and was about a little boy's Christmas adventures in England. It had snowed very hard, and Bobbie was able to build a wonderful snowman, using buttons for its eyes, and completing it with an old hat of his father's. There was an exciting story of missing jewels—which were, all the time, hidden under Bobbie's snowman—and Margaret grew very interested. But after a while she threw down the book grumpily. "Why can't it snow here?" she asked herself. "I'd love to make a snowman. Who care* about silly old sand castles?" For, although in some parte of Xew Zealand it snowed, it never did in Auckland, and Margaret had always longed to see it. It was hot now, being nearly lunch time, so, covering her eyes with her sunhat, Margaret stretched out on the sand and thought dreamily of Bobbie and his snowmen. Even the thought seemed to make her feel much cooler. Then, suddenly, there was a husky voice at her elbow, and looking up, startled, she saw the double of the snowman in the story book st-.iiid-ing beside her. "Come on," the voice said. "Aie.i't you coining to the party? All ti.e in.;cream will be gone if we don"! i: try." Margaret felt very cold and neiaion of ice-cream made her shiver. However, she got to her feet and followed iu the wake of her strange companion. How surprised she was to find herself looking much like the snowman. Their only difference was that where he had I a long coat and trousers, she wore a thick, snowy dre*s that reached to her j ankles. Yet, this unusual clothing felt as natural as the red bathing suit she had been wearing at the beach. "For I was at the beach," Margaret told herself again. "I know I was." But, all the same, she found it hard to convince herself. Her present surroundings were the very opposite of the sunny bay, with the blue sea lapping j aently on the shore. Here, the sky was a dull, murky grey. Tndeed. the whole scene was grey, just like early morning liefore the sun is up. Margaret remembered one morning when she had awakened extra early, and outside everything had looked exactly like this. She was very anxious to know where she was. and she hurried to catch up with her companion. It was hard to hurry, for the path was slippery like ice, banked on the left-hand side" bv a huge hill of snow. On the right was a row of the quaintest places Margaret had ever seen, shaped "like half an orwnge," as she thought to herself, but white and smooth and shiny. "Mr. Snowman!" Margaret called breathlessly, after a moment of wondering how to address him. "Mr. Snowman!" He turned then and waited for her impatiently. i "You'll have to be quicker." he grumbled, "or w e may as well not go at all. Margaret would not have minded that in the least, but she did not say so. Instead, she asked timidly. "Will you tell me where I am, please?" The snowman stared at her. "Where you are?" he repeated. "Don't you know ?" "No." said Margaret, feeling she would cry at any moment. "I was on the beach—" "Beach!" snapped the other irritablv. "What beach? There's no beach in Snowman's Land!" Snowman's Land, thought Margaret. I know that's not in my atlas. After a moment she ventured, "Where is— Snowman's Land?" "My goodness," exclaimed the other, angrily. "What a lot of questions! I'm not an encyclopaedia!" Margaret was uncertain of the meaning of that big word, but she thought the snowman seemed annoyed, so she was silent for a while. "Our new Eskimo huts are fine," the snowman said suddenly, motioning to the right of him. "A great improvement on last year's.*' "Of course," Margaret remdmbered. ■'That's what they are —Eskimo huts!" They had had a lesson on Eskimos the last week at school. "Like half an orange," teacher had said, and had drawn one on the board. Then Margaret remembered something else teacher had said. "Are they made of ice, too!" she asked. "Of course they are! It's a pity," the snowman added, in a sad sort of voice that made Margaret feel quite sorry for him. "It's a pity we have to build them afresh every year." "Do you ?" asked Margaret. "Yes. When Hie thaw comes we have to hurry to Jack Frost's place—he lives under the biggest pinetree in the Fairy Forest, you know —and we stay with him till the snows come again."

A STORY FOR LITTLE PEOPLE.

"How nice," Margaret said, not knowing quite the right thing to say. "We're expecting the thaw anv dav, now. This is the last partv of the vear. I do hope we haven't missed it." Margaret wondered how much further on this party was. She was awfully cold, and hoped there would be something hot to drink. Suddenly the snowman, turned from the icy path and said, -Here we are!" There was a big ice building like the Eskimo huts they had passed, only much bigger. Margaret followed the snowman, and found herself in the midst <rf a noisy crowd of snowmen and women, who, between them were eating ice-cream and jellies and lemonade. Margaret felt very uncomfortable among all these strange people, none of whom spoke to her. and although she wandered round for a long while, she could net find anything hot to drink anywhere. At last she sought out her old friend, and asked him if there was any hot milk. He stared at her in the same way he had when she'd inquired where she was. "Do you want to melt?" he asked, quite rudely, Margaret thought, and wished she'd not said anything. "If you had hot milk you'd melt, and if you melted you'd die!" Margaret had very vague ideas on the subject, but she had once had a dog that had died, and she remembered she had cried all day . afterwards. Sba replied, almost fearfully, that she did not want to die. "Well then," said the snowman, mora gently, perhaps repenting of his harshness, "don't ask for hot milk! Here, have some lemonade." He handed a bottle to her, and Margaret took it eagerly. She, in common with most boys and girls, was very fond of lemonade. But it was very cold. She took a sip of it and l»egan shivering at once. The snowman saw her and demanded: "What's the matter?" "I—l'm cold," Margaret stammered. "I'm aw-fully c-eold." She could see that the snowman was petting angry again and asked herself in fright was she never going to get home again? But before the snowman could speak there was a great commotion at the door, and another snowman burst in txcitedly. "A thaw!" he cried. "The sun is rising." He sounded very frightened, and at his words there was a murmur of horror from the snowpeople, and they thronged to the door, carrying Margaret in their midst. There was a wild cry from a dozen throats as they saw the sun rising quickly behind the snow mountain in the distance. "The sun! Look, the sun! The thaw is here already!" Margaret's snowman was forcing her along beside him. "We must hurry to Jack Frost's," ha said, "or the sun will melt us!" "7s it far?" Margaret asked nerronslT, in the excitement forgetting how cold she was. She was terribly scared, and understood now just what the word "homesick" meant. If only she were back on the beach. 'Tar enough," the snowman answered between puffs, for they were walking very quickly. "Hurry, hurry!" For an age, it seemed, they hurried and hurried. As they passed the ica huts Margaret saw that they were melting slowly. "Are we nearly there?" she asked at last, breathlessly. "Nearly," nodded the snowman, and sure enough not so far away loomed the cool, inviting shadow of the Fairy Forest. Then, at the same moment, they both felt the warmth of the sun. "The sun! It's melting us!" cried tha snowman. "Quickly, run!" But Margaret was too tired and frightened and puffed to run very fast, although, usually, she was a very good runner indeed. Then she felt something wet trickling down her face and neck. She was melting! "Oh!" she cried. "Well!" exclaimed Erie, standing above her with the empty bucket in his hand. "Awake at last! I had to tip the whole jolly bucket over you!" Margaret sat up and said absentmindedly, "What's the matter. Eric?" while she thought to herself, "T am at the beach and how lovely and hot the sun is." "The matter!" Eric echoed. "It's lunch time! I'm hungry." Margaret realised that she was hungry, too, and got up. wiping herself dry with her towel. Eric picked up her book and looked through it while he waited for her. ""Wish I could build a snowman," he said longingly. "You can read that to-day. if you like," Margaret offered hastily. "I'm going to build a sand castle after lunch." "Sand castle!" Eric scoffed. "Come on, baby!" For, of course, Eric was not to know of Margaret's adventures in Snowman's Land, was he?