OUR RING TO-NIGHT

Evening Post, Volume CIX, Issue 15, 18 January 1930, Page 18

OUR RING TO-NIGHT

Muriel Wood, Wellington.—But I'll wager that the elephants did not look small to you, darling, whatever olse did. Aren't they the nicest chaps? I hato to see them pulling heavy, heavy, loads. . . Yes, I did like- It,, ever so. "'Princess Elizabeth," Petone. —Nobody is ever too old, sweet eyes—not If thoy are young inside. Butterfly-Gold (a precious name, mat) must write to me ... soon. Betty Blow, Kelburn.—A dainty tiling, to come from a small girl's pen. . . Not quito, but what doe 3 it matter if it Isn't fearfully exact? You havo lightness and a real fairy sotting to your little picture, and that Is the chief thing. Eileen Jorgenten, Wellington.—Of course you may, girleen; only not with that Ring-name. Nearly every Blossom that blooms belongs to . some little person already. Think of , a new Dame, will you?—something that noi body 'else will have chosen. "Kingfisher Blue," Wellington.—A faithful small bird you are, bird of the swift, beautiful flight. Very seldom does the- postman arrive without your letter tucked away in his bag. . . But in the coal shed I What a queer, queer place to choose, wasn't It? It must have been a starling, I should think. Gladys Avery, Trentham.—l saw tho photo— a very good one, too. So sorry I could not come. . . Yes, a Captain, for a year. Thero's nothing Jollier, Is there? "Meadow Lark," Petone.—Such a whirligig of a time you have been having I Circuses, and visits, and picnics—why, there Is no end to them. Our little brown bird Jias lost its shyness, and is becoming as guy as a city sparrow, I think. "Tommy," Kelburn.—l do like your drawings, Flve-Ycars-Old, specially the steamer and tho spiky sun just coming up—or Just going down. . . That bunny of yours hopped right into tho Ring this week. Ho Is wuffling his wet nose somewhoreon tho pago. "Lady Roweni," Wellington.—Felldlng—and pigs! 1 can almost imagine our Peter Pan doing her riding astrldo one of the grunting - brethren, can't you? She'd find it huge fun, whatever tho pig might think! .. . Tho very Spirit, of Summer in your second weo note, dear heart, She Is lovely, and we must find room for her. "Annie Laurie," Wadestown.—But that is the ■ kind of concert which is really successful, isn't it? Heaps of fun, and kindly pooplc lo help, and a nice feeling afterwards. . . . It Is worth all the work and tho toil beforehand, when everything goes well. . . . You'll find Wainul-o-mata a precious place, given a fow sunny days, lisslo. "Daddy's Rosebud," Kilbirnie.—Corao straight in.-weo thing. We love to havo you. . Dliffyou find that name atl by your small self'/ .. . But eight of them I A wonderful family: only surely you won't bo able lo keep them all, will you? "Dana," Lower Hutt.—With those wet, wet days, I wonder if you had your visit to the Zoo? Jf you didn't, you had a bit of the Zoo with you, dear one, because lust Monday I saw two really truly elephants on the Hutt main road I Such queer big wrinkled fellows they were—did you see them Noo? "Yellow King," Lower Hutt That's a splendid one, youngster, and nobody has even imagined that one before. That garden of yours—did you do the planting, or do you just look after them for somebody else? Somehow, It's extra-speclally your very own garden if you plant them too. 'Goldilocks," Island Bay.—l am afraid—l am so very, very afraid—that you aro right, Kolden child. A lugging, tired summer this year; slow in coming, slow In coming; when sho should have boon hero long ago. Perhaps our special paw next week will hurry her up. It simply must! "Goldwins," To Horo,—l have not had timo to try it yet, dear, but It sounds delicious. . . . Do you make them? And do you like your new name? You really had not seen it when you wrote, but you will have by now.

Pauline Parkin, Petone,—That's dainty, chickadee—but why no letter? I haven't heard about your holidays yet. "Edward Boosie." Seateun.—You have every one right, youngstor. Our "Think Twice" is far too easy for you, I'm afraid. How come ■Hint you did not paint this week? Do you like them bigger and more different?

"Silvermlst," Wellington.—A quaint, darling name, Doris child. Did you think it your- , self, or did it just happen from someone elso? . . . Lovely, lucked, given flno weather. Whcro do you swim? "Jack Tar," Upper Hutt—-Your rlvcp Is tho loveliest place on a hot day, Isn't It? Singing water, and tiny, sleeping pools, and tall, sleeping willows. If only some of the stones were sand . . . but then, stones arc half tho delight of the river, aren't they?— tho little flat skipping ones, anyway. Isn't it fun when you can make them dance over the water? "Weloome," Brooklyn.—But you mustn't be ill In holiday time, childle—that Is the (line to become as brown and merry as a cicada, boforo school begins again, . . So you are looking forward to It? Lovely; but make good use of the free weeks too. "Rippling Water," Lower Hutt.—o, I am so sorry that I missed it! Next time, write lust on one side, darling, and then nothing can get lost, You sco, I pasted your riddles on to paper, and then, of course, the letter was underneath. Was there anything very special in it? "House in the Wood" is sweet. Is It your own? "Sunset Mist," Lower Hutt.—Then you havo not been to it yet, dear one? It's a grand • sweep of a bay. with exciting, slippery rocks, and all kinds of treasures lv the rock-pools. But it Is the breakers—real deep-sea breakers—that I like best, I think. You will 100, when you sco them. "Flying Fox," Upper Hutt.—l like that one, Immensely. . . But aren't you afraid that you mlghUjget a funny wizened one In return, with straight hair, and spectacles, and a droopy mouth? Somo fairies havo those things, you know! "Hinemoa," . Khandallah.—Little one, "Love-iu-a-Mlsl" Is tho only name for them that I know. I suppose thero Is a queer Latiny name that, belongs, but I've never seen It. . . . Some arc yellow, and some, are pink or jiurnlo. Yes, the scrap-boolt surely, a little later. "Smiler," Petone.—That seemed written for your own self, happy one—tho poet must havo seen you dancing in the distance. . . . Tho first verso I liked best of all. "Sailor-Boy," Upper Hutt.—Darling, tho cats truly weren't rmite good enough. They would not havb come out clearly. , . New paints —how lovely I You'll llko ono or tho stories this week, then: tho ono or tho nngcl and his now paint-box. He had a marvellous time.

"Topsy-Turvy," Ohau.—And thcro must bo a school too, somewhere near . . . else a small person could not do such clear printing. . . Havo you a river to swim in, in the summer days? "Fiddlesticks!" Ohau.—No manners have the monkeys, havo they? But they are queer and quaint creatures, all the same—and how amusing! Did you see tho old sea-lion, Fiddlesticks? "Saucy Sally," Jitahl Bay.—A pet of a calendar, child, and so carefully made. I like it. . . And your letter, too. More like my own Saucy Sally, again! "Princess Fatima," Khindallah.—So you were the .small unknown, were you? A warm, cosy welcome to you, little friend . . . and the painting ■ was good. . . Who named your liouso? It sounds the nicest sort of a house with a narao .like.that. Hazel White, Johnsonvillo.—Yes. isn't Saturday night fun?—for everybody except the poor fathers, aud they havo dreadful trouble to read their paper at all! It eats so lost and mixed up. . . But I haven't welcomed yon jet, Hazel-girl. I'll do it now. lira great imrry, for fear you'll think I've forgotten