"THE CHRISTMAS ANGEL"

Evening Post, Volume CXXIII, Issue 1, 2 January 1937, Page 8

"THE CHRISTMAS ANGEL"

(Original.) Many long years ago there lived in the city oi Nazareth a little boy named Simon. Simon's parents had died -when he was six years old, and he had/ lived with his old grandfather ever since. Although Simon had very few friends, he was never lonely, for his grandfather was a toymaker, and he made wonderful toys for his grandchild. One day when his grandfather was busy in his workshop, Simon wandered out into the fields. It was a hot, sultry day, and he sat down every now and then in the shade of a tree, to play with his toys, or pick the tender dra-gon-wort growing around him. Not a single sound disturbed the air except the chirping of happy birds or occasional bleatings from the direction of the sheep pastured near. It was drawing toward dusk when Simon at length decided to return home; but alas—he was lost! The enchantment of the afternoon had carried him far away over the fields and hills. Simon flung himself to the ground and wept bitterly; but only for ■ short time. He could hear voicesmen's voices: and then he saw several shepherds coming over the fields towards him. Simon started to his feet, and running over to them—not forgetting to take his precious toys with him—he told the men his trouble. The shepnerds were astonished at seeing so small a boy among the hills, and at so late an hour; but seeing that it was too late to take him back to his grandfather, they took him with them into a paddock to tend the sheep with them. By this time the dusk had deepened into night, and the moon had risen, shedding its silvery radiance over the countryside. Peace and silence reigned everywhere. Suddenly a bright light flooded from the sky. The shepherds started back, covering their eyes from the bright ness; but Simon was not afraid; he turned his little face to the heavens. There, shining down on him, hung a big, brilliant star; so big and beautiful that its beams seemed brighter

TOMORROW. Ifs no us* tearing your beard, O'd Year, Ifß time for you to go; The little New Year is almost here, •Your steps are tired and slow. It's no use waiting to play the game Of trying to catch Tomorrow, For she, elusive, mischievous thing. May only tie caught In a Fairy Rlno. Yw never e»uld sated her old. Bearded One. Nor Little New Year, though fast he should run.

than the sun. Then he heard the shepherds crying among themselves:— The King has cornel" "We must go to the city, for He has come!" Simon felt himself lifted up in a shepherd's strong arms, and carried over the hills until they reached the city. There tney saw the Babe laid in a m: linger. It was a very beautiful Baby, Simon thought, as he tiptoed forward to look at Him. Then he noticed that the shepherds were kneeling. Simon knelt by the manger, his little toys clasped beneath his arm; he fingered them lovingly. He could see many gifts that had been given to the Baby —but they all seemed so rich and costly; his toys were so poor and battered. For a moment he hesitated; and then, rising to his feet, he shyly approached the sweet-faced lady who looked so tenderly down at her Baby. She looked up as Simon approached. "I want to give these to the Baby," Simon whispered. The toys were gently lrid by the Biby, who at that moment opened His blue eyes and smiled at Simon as if to thank him. Outside the stable the shepherds were waiting to take him back to his grandfather. Simon knelt once more, and then departed into the night with tie shepherds; but he was sure that the Baby would like his gifts. "It was the Christmas Angel/* he breathed. "LILAC (13). Island Bay.

JANIS unfolded her little canvas stool, placed her ° n *e grass beside her, put up the rather rickety easel that Dick had made for her birthday, opened her bag, which contained a splendid array ot well-sharpened pencils, and settled herself in a good position from which she could view the looming heights of the Devil's Ridge. The picture must be finished by tomorrow, as it was New Year s lJay, and she had really left it rather late. She looked severely at the clean sieet of drawing paper on her board, then deftly started her outlines. I; was exciting, the way the mountain swept up and up, long clean lines cutting the clear sky. , She sat back to view her initial effort. It was somehow . . . sort of queer. Not a bit like Devil's Ridge. No. Now that peak. . . . She was sure she'd drawn that. She remembered distinctly following tie queer jutting ledge, yet it was not on the paper! Jams stared. She must be mistaken. Once you drew a thing, it didn't alter like that. A worried frown appeared on her brow, whilst she grovelled in her bag for a rubber. It was so strange. ... ~._.,, She was rubbing rather fiercely at the paper when she heard Dicks whistle, far back along the track. She whistled in reply, felt a quick relief that he was coming. Sometimes brothers are quite handy people to have about. She supposed he'd laugh when she told him about the Dick came up, laughing. "How busy we are, and how important." He sat on the grass. "Doing the old Ridge?" She nodded. "Yes. Trying to. For Mother. I haven't got her anything for New Year. I'll frame it in passe partout." She frowned. "?he picture was so terribly wrong. Dick looked up at her. "What's the matter?" "I don't know. It's so funny. Have a. look at it." He looked critically at the picture. Then he laughed rather boisterously. "That Ridge? The Devil's?" She nodded. "Yes. Why?" For a moment Dick was silent. "Then why on earth have you drawn (he Peak of the Patu-paiarehe?" Janis's mouth opened in surprise. "I haven't. At least. . . ," !she glanced at her work. "O-oh, Dick! How queer! What ever made me?" They stared blankly at one another, then Dick said, in rather a queer voice. "It's New Year's Eve!" Janis did not answer. "It was on New Year's Eve that Great-Aunt Lettice was lost on the Peak of the Patu-paiarehe!" Janis nodded dumbly. Dick's eyes shone. "I think she must be here now," he whispered. "Sort of influencing you." Janis shivered. "Oh don't. I don't like ghosts. Not creepy ones, like Marley, with chains and things." "She's supposed to haunt this pla ce at New Year. It was just about here that the old homestead was, before it got burned." "How long ago?" Janis said in a small voice. She was glad the sun was shining, and a lark sang far, far overhead. It reassured one. Dick's voice sounded hollow. "Ninety years ago! Aunt Lettice went to gather greenery for a party. Several of them went up into the bush on the slopes of Patu-paiarehe, and somehow she left the others and they couldn't find her. They searched for days, but the bush was awfully dense then. Some people thought she had been murdered by hostile Maoris, but the general idea was that the Little People had lured her away." Janis looked scared. "And what does she do when she haunts?"