CHILDREN'S CORNER

Evening Star, Issue 15478, 28 April 1914, Page 3

CHILDREN'S CORNER

SO-MK CHILDREN'S SAVINGS. Zoe, a fat child of four, loved looking after other people’s babies. She said to a girl friend: “ Harrie, when you get married you are to hove 20 children. I’ll look after thgni for you.” We teased her, saying she .would never be able to keep them all clean. “Why, yes, I could,” she maintained. “I should put 19 in soak while I washed the other.” A friend who made much of our daughter Kathleen during babyhood left England swm after she was two years old, returning after seven months' absence. She was soon on Tim knee, dimpling and smiling up at his face. “You don’t remember me,” he said. “I do; you are Goodam”— wing the childjjjen’s abbreviation of his name. “ And you still have your dimple!” “Oh, yes,” with a nod of assurance that made him smilingly say; “Why, you don’t know what a dimple is!” “I do,” said she; “a dimple sticks in and a pimple sticks out.”

Though my son Oily was only three years of age, he had a great love for music, could sing little- songs and hymns, and often caught up a taking air played by the' 1 regimental band, and sang it about the house. One day, as lie sat with us at a meal, we. didn't notice that his plate was empty. We were so busy talking that his plaintive appeal “ I want something to eat ” was not attended to. Suddenly we were startled to hear a very high treble voice singing a child's hymn. The words he sang were: Oh, supply my every want; Feed the young and. tender plant.

So we fed the young and tender plant without more ado.—From the Christmas nuihber of the * Strand Magazine.’

OH, TO BE A BAGGAGE TAG. The boys of the Californian George Junior Republic at Chino (U.S.) have Issued from their printing shop a bon voyage tag bearing this engaging jingle: • I'd like to be a baggage tag. With nothing else to do But dangle from a steamer trunk. And tag along with vou. -- ■ ~ ... » : TEACHING THE TEACHER. Mrs F. I. Robinson, an infant school head mistress, speaking at the Teachers’ Conference in London, emphasised the importance of making children think and act for themselves, bhe was telling a class that every bird had two legs only. A little child disagreed, and said he knew one that had more—the ladybird. Another teacher was laying it down that the letter “u ” invariably followed “ q.” On© child said he knew a case where it did not—in the alphabet. One little girl confided to her mother : “ I shall not be a teacher, for they have too much to do. I shall be like yon. mother, with nothing to do.”

AN AMERICAS’ PLAS WORTH NOTING. Every baby born in Bamegat, New Jer--1 sey, receives a financial start in life in the shape of a savings bank account of one ' dollar (4s 2d), intereet on which is compounded semi-annually at 3 per cent. The girls are treated as well as the boys, and the child of the hod-carrier is given just the same chance as that of the millionaire. This idea has been carried out by Mr Ezra Parker, president of the First National Bant in that. city. Being a banker, he is naturally a firm believer in thrift, and is willing to back his belief with hard, round dollars. His theory is that more money is wasted on trifles than would suffice to keep a person from the poorhouse when old age comes on, and his starting of his youthful fellow-citizens with a dollar account is designed to impress them early in life with the idea that a penny dropped in the savings bonk will give more lasting pleasure than several spent in the lolly shop. . On the arrival of the little stranger in the town the mail brings this letter to its father:

AVs understand that you have added another member to your family. Will you be =o kind as to - let us know the name and sex of the baby? We have placed one dollar to its credit, and have opened an account which will be compounded semi-annually, witji interest at 3 per cent., as the account is increased. Kindly call at the bank, and a home safe

will he given to you for the baby. The idea is to eventually deposit the original dollar, and whatever sums are added to it, to be kept in trust for the child until it becomes of age, when the boys will find a nice little capital to help them get into business, and the girls a nice nest egg to helr> them to furnish the home. Here is a neat bit of figuring by Mr Parker that indicates the value of small savings. Save every day for 20 years the price”of a package of chewing gum, a cheap cigar, or a glass of beer, and place it in a savings bank to be compounded at 5 per cent, every six months, and you have £IOO. Many a man has built up a fortune on a capital of that size. The investment of this dollar, from the point of view of the bank, is an excellent one. The concern secures a double hold on the “depositor.” Naturally, dollars will follow after the first one is in keeping. Then there is a certain amount of sentiment about the whole scheme. Even when, with the passage of years, the child attains man’s estate, it will be the natural thing to look with a feeling of semi-owner-ship on the barking institution. Many a person will realise that here it was that he began his financial start in the world.— ‘ Evervbodv’s Journal.’

NOT A CENTIPEDE, I'm very, very glad indeed That I'am not a centipede; For think of walking in the street Or garden with a hundred feet! For how they would get in my way Whenever I went out to play. And, oh, how cross my nurse would get If all my hundred feet got wet! Suppose, when I began to run, That half my feet should stop for fun, While fifty more went rushing past — What would become of me at last? And, oh, what pain if someone chose To tread on my five hundred toes! Oh, yes, Tm sure I’m quite agreed, I would not be a centipede. THE SPOON GAME. When there are visitors to lunch I mustn't talk that day. And so I make the spoons and forks A kind of game to play. Of course, I play it in my head, But still it’s rather fuu; It Is a sort of story game That lasts till lunch is done. The tablespoons are grandmammas (And sometimes nurses, too); They all wear bonnets large and high Like grandmas used to do. The mothers are dessertspoons, then. You see how that would be; And all the teaspoons little girls, About as big as roe. The saltspoons all are baby things, And they must always stay Inside their cellar cradles, ’ccs They’re far too small to playThe gravy ladle drives about, Much wander than the rest; And all the forks are men, of course—

I like.the ladies best. But when the grandmammas look, stern, The mothers rather sweet, I often think how rude it is To use them when I eat. From ‘Rosycheeks and Goltlenhead,’ bj Ruth M- Bedford (Alston Rivers).

The London correspondent of the ‘ Manchester Guardian ’ tells a good story about one of the King’s younger sons. It appears that the governess of Prince John is a strong “ anti,” and she had occasion to reprove lilm more than once during an early morning walk in St. James’s Park. Growing restive under continuous correction, the Royal youngster mounted a bench, • and attracted a small crowd round him by calling out at the top of his voice; “ Votes for women!’? History does not relate -what means were taken to meet so unexpected an outburst.