BIG BROTHER BILL AND THE BAIRNS

Evening Star, Issue 19764, 14 January 1928, Page 17

BIG BROTHER BILL AND THE BAIRNS

A WEEKLY TALK Hello, everybody! Quite a large number of letters this week, for, which very many thinks to all who wrote them. Tho “palindrome” was not so hard after all, because a great number tried, with very creditable results. Master lan Shaw, 38 Eskvale street, Musselburgh, won tho prize. This is what he sent in; “ Snug and raw was I ere 1 saw war and guns.” You will see that it reads the same backwards as forwards, and agree it is a capital attempt. Congratulations, lan. The little unfinished verse of poetry was quite easy. Everybody succeeded in doing it. Once upon a morning bright, Johnny flew his little kite. Lined blue, with stripes of......white, It was quite a pretty......sight. When it reached a certain......height Johnny had an awful..... .fright, _ For though he tugged with all hi 5...... might, It 'went forever out of sight. By the way, I ought to thank the many folk who sent me Christmas cards, Now Year wishes, and little gifts. Thank you all, very much indeed. Especially for the many “hankies” sent to mo. Talking about handkerchiefs, do you know why all handkerchiefs are square? Why shouldn’t they be round, or oblpng, or like a triangle? Tho answer is: Because Marie Antoinette of France, the Queen who was beheaded during the French Revolution, though that shapes was most convenient. And so she got tho King to make a law saying: “The length of handkerchiefs shall equal their width in all my kingdom.” He did this on June 2, 1785, and they have been square ever since. There is a little history, you see, even in _ your pocket handkerchief, and history is the most interesting thing in the world. Yours affectionately always, BIG BROTHER BILL. A NONSENSE RHYIiiE There was once a wonderful king, Who wore in his nose a gold ring, He’d a grand silver crown. With long chains hanging down, _ And his clothes were embroidered with string.

He married a beautiful queen, Whose hair was a delicate green, She would dress in bright hues, Purples, yellows, and blues (She was really not fit to he seen). They lived in a wonderful land, Where the fruit grew on trees, ready canned, Where the raspberry jam Was not marrows and sham, And the sugar was not mixed with sand. They would frequently sail in a boat, Winch never could keep long afloat; It with water would fill _ And would frequently spill The king and the queen in the moat. They had forty-nine uncles and aunts, Who wore always composing new chants, They would sit in a row. And their trumpets would blow Till they blew all the leaves off tho plants. One day when the pepper was ripe, And the king was refilling his pipe, An albatross flew To the tree-tops so blue, Ang began eating treacle and tripe.

At that the poor queen exclaimed: “Chccso!” And the king could not keep hack a sneeze, So the pepper took lire, And they all did expire, While the castle blew up by degrees. FISHES THAT BUILD NESTS Did anybody ever tell you about fishes that build nests? Which will provoke some smart laddie to say: “My word, Brother Bill, but that’s a big one.” Well, why shouldn’t a fish build a nest if it feels like it? In India there are fishes that climb trees, and there is a queer, goblin-faced fish that occasionally, on fine days, leaves the river and goes for a walk on the land. The stickleback builds a nest. In the spring, on the bottom of a shallow brook or pond, tho lather fish builds himself a neat like a barrel, open at each eftd. He builds it of weeds and grass and pieces of floating straw; and he sticks it together with cement that he manufa Rures for himself. And when the nest is full of little baby sticklebacks lie pulls the top off, plugs up the ends, and tho nest becomes a dandy cradle. There is a fish in North America, called the “ bowfin,” that builds a capital nest in the lakes and rivers. First of all ho chooses a place where the water weeds are thick. Then, in tlie centre of the thick weeds, he beats down a circular space. If some of the weeds are too thick to beat down ho bites them off. Tho broken weeds fall To tho bottom and make a soft floor for the nest. Then he makes a little tunnel through the weeds to the clear water. Which makes his nest both comfy and safe. There is a pretty-colored fish in Chinese waters, called the “ paradise fish,” that builds the funniest nest. The father fish puts his mouth near the top of the water and blows a heap of bubbles. Like a little mound on the water, the heap of bubbles floats along the surface. Then tho father fish takes the eggs in his mouth, one at a time, and fixes one to each bubble. Which isn’t the sort of nest one would care to bo born in at all. And, of course, there are the “lampreys,” the little eels that some_ of you will remember were responsible for the death of a king. The father and mother fish, being very tidy sort of folk, first move all the stones away from a certain part of the river-bot-tom, Then they scoop out a little hollow in the sand. The eggs are laid in this little hollow nest. Then the father and mother fish swim a little way up stream, clearing tho stones as they go. Which allows the flowing water to gently sweep loose sand into the little hollow nest and cover up the eggs. So, you see, old Mother Nature teaches the least of her children how to take care of their families.

810 BROTHER BILL'S NATURAL HISTORY MOLES VIII.-FERDISAHD, THE FLOUNDER Ferdinand, the Flounder, flapped his little tail, He muddied the water so clear. “I’ll talk for a while,” he told the sea snail, “ Unless somebody comes with a spear.” He lay flat on his tummy on the wet brown sand That lies at the bottom of the sea. “My hack changes color,” he boasted to the snail; “ It’s a trick that yon don’t often see.”

“When I lay myself down on this sandy bed, No matter what its color may be, I make my back the same,” Ferdinand said. “ I’m a pretty clever laddie, you see.”

“And please will you notice my two little eyes, . Close together on my quaint little nose ? When I snuggle in the sandj on stalks, they rise; You wish you were me, I suppose? Said the little sea_ snail: “Shocking grammar, Ferdinand, And you’re marvellous, without any doubt, But 1 expect you think a sea snail something grand When a sharp spear yanks you out.” HOW WUNAUM GAVE GOGH TO HIS PEOPLE A RED INDIAN FAIRY STORY Once upon a time Hiawatha was made very happy by the birth of a little son, whom he called Wunaumon. Now, Wunaumon grew up to be a mighty hunter, so much so that the great strong beasts of the forest slunk into their holes and dens when they saw his shadow falling on the earth. Wunaumon used to tramp through the forest and across the plains. One day he saw in the distance a little strip of bush growing out on the plain. “ I am Wunaumon the mighty ; 1 will know what is there,” he said. And with great strides he soon came up to tho bush. As he stood under the trees a strange man came to him. A little man with a hard, shiny coat, green pants, and long red hair. He wasn t the sort of man to be able to fight Wunaumon; and he didn’t seem to want to, because after a while he began to smoko, and offered Wuuanraou a whiff or two of his pipe. But Wuuaumon was always anxious to try his strength, so he looked down at the strange little man, “ I am Wunaumon the mighty, who are you?” he said. “ 1 am as strong as a man,” said tho little chap. “What is your name?” “ I will not tell unless you beat me in wrestling. Put me on the ground, and you shall find out. And, if you win, you shall gain more than the knowing of my name.” “Come on, then,” cried Wunaumon, stripping off his clothes. The little man laughed loudly. “I have no need to prepare,” he said. “Remember, if you conquer me, it shall bo for the' good of all your people.” They struggled, broke _ away to breathe, went at it again, without either beating the other for hours. Wunaumon looked at the little man with astonishment. At last, as the sun went down, Wunaumon braced himself for a mighty effort. He planted his big feet far apart, and threw his long arms around the little man with a hug like a great bear’s. Something seemed to hurst in tho little man. and he collapsed. “Ho, ho, little man, I have beaten you; now tell me your name,” cried Wunaumon. “I am Mondalnn’n. I give my body as food for your people. Where I have fallen cover me with fine earthy then come back to mo often. You will see me again every year, and from me you will gather gilts for all your people.” Wunauraoii laid the little _ man’s body in the earth, covered it with dust, and when he came back in a month saw two green stalks topped with flowing feathers waving on tho grave. And a voice like a singing fairy’s came from among the waving plumes; “This is Indian corn, the gift of Mondahrain. Gather it and take the seed to your people. It will give strength to the men, loveliness to the women, and happiness to the babes. Tell them all to think of Mondahmin when they make a feast o! the corn.” And that is how the fairy people gave Indian corn to the' earth people.

THE WEEKLY COMPETITION Here is a queer competition, hut quite exciting, it is a “ code letter.” Your task is to find the “ key” to tho code. It is quite simple, but the first clue can be found at the end of the letter. Now I have given you a hint how to sot about tho competition. What tho prize will be is stated in the letter. Send all your solutions to Big Brother Bill, c/o the ‘Evening Star,’ Dunedin. Ym pkra vzajx rfp temx;— Z qcdk bqzx dwiijk ucf’b tk bee qrap nca mew. Zn mew xwookkp zf yrezfv zb cwb mew ywxb feb cfjm xklp zt bqk xcjwbzcf twb mew ywzb uazbk cwb rf rooewfb cn qcu xkb be ucao be nzfp bqk ekm be bqzx “ vzltkazxq.” Z uzjj xkip r dazik cn qrjn-r-oacuf be bqk vzaj ca tem uqc xkf)« bqk tkxb rfxuka. mewa rnnkobzcfrbk Tzv Tambqka Tzjj. D.X. Xkfp rjj mewa Ikbhkax be Tzv Tambqka, Tzjj, Pwfkpxf Kvkfzfv Xhra, Pwlkpzl. LMV Jv EC 11*1 J BQK NRYZJM. T.T.T.

THE LOUIE RECIFE Hero is a recipe for fig rock that will be delicious to cat, and it is made as easy as anything ever was made. One cupful of sugar, three-quarters cup of water; boil until it is an amber color, hut do not stir during the boiling. Add a quarter of a teaspoonful of cream of tartar just before taking off the lire. Wash the figs,_ dry them with a clean tea towel, split them in halves, and lay thorn flat on a dish. Pour tho syrup over them, and let stand until cold. Cheerio, everybody, BIG BROTHER BILL.