Aunt Amelia's ADVENTURE

Press, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22243, 6 November 1937, Page 4 (Supplement)

Aunt Amelia's ADVENTURE

S' Sunbeams .

•Mate Peter, Pilots Her to Italy

CHAPTER IV One morning Peter, Paul, and Pamela were awakened by Aunt Amelia.

“Wake up!” she cried excitedly, •'We’re off to Italy,” and without waiting for the children to answer she rose skywards, setting her course due south-west.

“It’s a good thing we were inside the aeroplane,” said Peter when he was properly awake. Paul and Pamela nodded in answer. Suddenly, without a word of warning Auntie swooped down towards a green patch that grew

larger and larger, until it “came UP and hit them,” as Peter said. Aunt Amelia could hardly wait for the children to climb out of the cockpit. Then they started briskly towards some beautiful buildings in the distance, Aunt Amelia running so fast that Peter and Paul begged her to go slower. 'When they reached the ancient city of Rome, there was a look of wild excitement on each adventurer’s face. As they stopped in front of a beautiful cathedral Aunt Amelia consulted her guide book. “This must be St, Peter’s Cathedral.*’ she exclaimed. “We must go inside.” Beneath a sky of blazing blue, the famous St. Peter’s reared its domed head. On tip-toe the children, and dear old Auntie, passed through the carved arched entrance into the cool interior. They stood Kiinlring for a few moments after entering, for the sudden darkness after the brilliant sunlight dazzled them. . , The air was heavy with incense, and through the smoky blue the candles on the beautiful altar glowed dimly. Dim figures of priests moved noiselessly among lie pews. “Isn't It peaceful?” sighed Pamela. .t- the four retraced their steps. One--' cur in the sun again they set eff towards a Ir.rsre square. In the

centre of this were the ruins of the Coliseum.

“Isn’t this where they had all the chariot races?" asked Peter. “And the bladiator fights, too,” put In Paul, “Isn’t it eerie looking? And do look at those funny little pigeonholes,” cried Pamela. Wise old Aunt Amelia smiled, “Those are the seats—at least what’s left of them,” she said, and added, “now let us go back to that paddock.” “We’re not going back yet, are we. Auntie?” wailed Pamela. "Indeed not! We’re going to Naples. Jump in!” And off they fldw again. More than 100 miles from Rome is the largest city in Italy. As our four friends circled over the most beautiful city in the world, Aunt Amelia drew their attention to Mount Vesuvius: Lava was being flung from the crater of this violetcoloured mountain, and Pamela shuddered as she watched it. “Isn’t it terrible to think of people bising buried under that?” she said. “Yes,” agreed Auntie, “Now, hold tight! We’re going to land.” When they climbed out the children found themselves on the gentle slope of a hill a few yards from some orange-trees. The four friends stood gazing down on the city. The stately buildings, the gay costumed Italians, the sea of shining blue, all made up a colourful picture. Pamela turned round, and there before a background of rosy pink, rose the snow-clad peaks of the Apennines, The sun was quickly setting, and the darkness gathering. The air on the hillside was laden with the intoxicating perfume of the waxen orange blossoms. Pamela yawned sleepily and Aunt Amelia sighed, “It’s lovely, isn’t it? But come, children. All aboard for home, you’re tired out.” A few minutes later Auntie took off and the aeroplane soared upwards towards the starry heavens, homeward bound.

This chapter was written by *Mate Peter , 583 Pages road , New Brighton. *Mate Peter will receive a souvenir which Aunt Amelia brought back from Italy.

If a black servant dropped the chief dish at Christmas, what countries would it affect?

It would be the breaking up of China, the overthrow of Turkey, the spilling of Greece, and the disappointment of Hungary.

—SHIRLEY RUSHBRIDGE (aged 10), 88 Woodham road, Avonside.