TALE FOR SMALL ONE

Evening Post, Volume CXV, Issue 65, 18 March 1933, Page 19

TALE FOR SMALL ONE

(Original.)

Joan awoke. She rolied Brenda over and over and called in a loud voice, ""Wake- up! Wake up, lazybones! Mother has promised us that we may go to the seaside today!" At these words Brenda sat up in bed. "Of course," she said, "I'd forgotten." The two then began dressing as quickly as they could. When they had had breakfast, and were all ready, they set off joyfully with a lunch basket between them. Then catching a train, they, soon arrived at Sunshine Beach, where the waves were gently lapping the golden beach. With a shout both children kicked off their shoes and socks and dashed off into the co6l water. "Come on, Joan," said Brenda. "It is time now for lunch.' ' So picking a delightful spot between two brown shiny rocks, they enjoyed a nice lunch of cool lettuce, bread, and cake. When lunch was finished and everything was packed away, they set off along the beach to hunt for shells and seaweed. They had not gone far when Joan said, "Brenda, look!" And they both did look, for there sitting on a rock far out at sea was a lovely maiden with a comb in one hand and a mirror in the other, combing her lovely long golden hair, which was shimmering in the sun. Then with a beautiful laugh and a wave of her lovely hand, ■ she disappeared from sight. Joan and Bvenda then turned slowly homewards, with, nothing in their minds but the lovely maiden they had seen. "STJNKISS" (14). Brooklyn. "AN EXCITEMENT" ♦ "Guess who I had a letter from the other day? L. M. Montgomery. She's the author of the 'Anne' books and all those other delightful books. I wrote to her some time ago, and she wrote such an interesting reply. Here's a bit of it: 'I am very glad my books have given you so much pleasure. Emily is a purely fictitious character, but her literary ambitions and stumblings were very like my own. I have just finished a new story, 'Pat of Silver Bush,' which will be out next autumn. I hope you will like it. The 'Silver Bush' of Pat's is a grove of birches.' Wasn't it splendid of her to answer my letter personaljy?" POLLYANNA. Kelburn.