BIG BROTHER BILL AND THE BAIRNS

Evening Star, Issue 19924, 21 July 1928, Page 17

BIG BROTHER BILL AND THE BAIRNS

A WEEKLY TALK Hollo Everybody 1 This week’? successful competitor is Geoffrey L. Eastgate, 43 Driver’s road, Maori Hill. The correct answers are: Legion of angels; covey of partridges; flight of pigeons; rookery of rooks; nursery of plants; bouquet of flowers; brood of chickens: squad of recruits; posse of police; cluster of raisins; bunch of grapes; tribe of goats; constellation of stars; litter of pigs; mute of hounds; team of horses; pencil of light rays; mob of cattle; bench of magistrates; board of directors; panel of jurymen; bevy of larks; skein of ducks. Someone has sent Big Brother Bill the following letter, and it is printed, not because it is important, but because he wishes to tell his family what an absurd business the letter is. THE FLANDERS CHAIN OF GOOD LUCK. “This letter was sent to mo by a friend, and I am sending it on to you so as not to break the chain. Copy this out before twenty-four hours have passed. Send it to four persons to whom you wish good luck to follow. The chain was started on the battlefield of Flanders by an American officer. Tt will go round the world threo times. If you break the chain bad luck will follow. It is wonderful how tho predictions have been fulfilled since it was started, so send it away and see what happens on the fourth day. Pass this on with three other copies, so ns not to keep this in the house. Good luck.” Of course, tho tiling is a lot of nonsense; tho kind of thing that poor ignorant blackfullows in the Australian bush believe in. They have lucky boomerangs and lucky stones to wear round their necks and lucky places in which to build their gunyahs or houses. They have also lucky bones in their noses and ears, but. since tho bones arc mostly human, the man who wears them had better luck than the man who was perhaps killed and eaten. Certainly none of Brother Bill’s family need take notice of such a tissue of nonsense. You may make up your mind that tho only benefit obtained goes to tho Post Office, which gets revenue from tho number ol stamps sold. Lucky letters will do nothing for anybody, but hard work and perseverance get yon through yonr_ examinations or anywhere else every time. The letter sent to Brother 'Bill went into the fire. Instead of a motto this week I am printing a beautiful little poem. It is a motto, really, and was written to ho snob, but it is also a small piece of tho world’s beautiful literature;

So ho died for Ills faith. That is fine: More than most of ns do. But,, say, can yon add to that lino That he lived for it, too? In his death he boro witness at last As a martyr to truth. Did his life do the same in the past. From the da vs of his youth P It is easy to die. Aten have died For a wish or a whim— From bravado or passion or pride. Was it. harder for hlmP But lo live—every day In live out Al] the truth that he dreamt, While Ms friends met his conduct with donht And the world with enntemnt. Was it thus that he plodded ahead, Never turning aside? Then we’ll talk of the life that ho lived— Never mind how ho died. Tours always affectionate. BIG BROTHER 8188, BIRTHDAYS Juno Ross, Horiut row, Duficiiin, had a birthday on Wednesday, July 18. Sho was three years old. Many happy days lo weo June. The radio postio called with a parcel and loft it behind the bedroom door. Willio Blackwood, 171 Alum South road, Cavcrshain, was livo on Alonday July 10. Willio had a little party at his grandma’s place on Tuesday night, and the radio postie called and left a pared on the hall-stand. And ....uuier parcel was-left under Willie’s pillow, ne found it when he got home. Many happy returns to Willie Blackwood. And I mustn’t forget wco Keith Blackwood. Keith is a dear wee chappie, about four years old, but ho is paralysed, and can neither walk nor talk. Keith enjoyed his brother’s party for all that and all the radio family join in wishing for Keith many happy years in which to grow strong and well; we wish that with all our hearts, don't, we?

Peggy Griffiths, 12 Gladstone road. North-east Valley, was ten years old cn Wednesday, July IS. Many happy returns to Peggie.' Tho radio jxwtie called wxtn a parcel and loft it under tho silting room settee. Peggie had a real old English Christmas party a •tco of a birthday partj, and there was Christmas holly and mince pics. What a stunning idea. Lena King, Waitati, was tnin n years old on Tuesday, July 17. Many happy returns to Lena. Grade, and wee Joyce King, joined in the happy time. Tho radio postie loft a parcel on the kitchen table for Lena, and one on tho kitchen dresser for Grade. They listened to bna.iday greetings in Mrs Hosting's house, and Jack Hosking found a parcel under his pillow, whilst Elsie Hosking found one on the front door step. The radio postie certainly had a busy time in Waitati. Douglas Lockhart, Sunnyvale, Green Island, was nine years old on Thursday, July 19. Many iiappy returns to Douglas. Tho radio postie left a parcel on the window seat in tho spare bedroom. Douglas has a broth©. - named Edgar, and Brother Bill remembers them both because they sent him flowers for tho hospital. Lorraine Gordon, 45 Kircaldy street, South Dunedin, had a birthday on Wednesday, July 18. Many happy returns to Lorraine. There seems to nave been .wonderful doings at Lorraine's birthday. She found a parcel on tho front door step, and her sister Iris discovered she hadn’t been forgotten. ' And Jacky Hay - , who was at the party, got a parcel to share with Nonio Hay and Willie Hussey, who wore also there. Alma Wilson, Luggate, Otago Central, had a birthday on Wednesday, July IS. Many happy returns to Alma. Brother Jack and sister Noeline have to bo remembered too. Tiro vacuo postie left a parcel in tho radio cabinet for Alma, and a box of chocolates for Jack and Noeline. Brother Bill remembers with affectionate greetings all members of the family whose names do not appear in this birthday list; many happy days to you all. THE POSTIE'S BAG G 1 Carrington road, Maori Hill, Dunedin. Dear Brother Bill, —May I join your happy family circle? I am in Standard 111., and go to the Maori Hill School. I will be ten years old on July _ 14. I very often read your letters in the ‘ Star,’ and so thought .1. would like to become a member. I went on Tuesday to the Capping procession* and on-

joyed it very much. Wo have a very pretty tortoise-shell cat, which ia a Manx one. Well, Brother Bill, I will close now, with heaps of love and hoping you will take me as one of your members.—-Yours truly, Owen Roberts. [Well, Owen, there u nothing the matter with a letter like that one. We shall be glad to make a seat for you in the family circle. Yes, 1 saw the Capping procession, and, through the microphone, told tho family what 1 saw. Were you listening? A Manx cat always looks quaint to me because it has no tail, but 1 should think that a tor-toise-shell cat would look very handsome. Glad you like tho Bairn’s page. Write again soon,] 87 Queen’s Drive, Musselburgh. Dear Brother Bill, —How are you getting on? I suppose that I should ask after the family, too; well, I hope they are all well and happy. Our exams are finished now with tho exception of one which does not matter, as it is only a drawing exam. 1 am trying your competition this week, and have got quite a lot of the names out. We wont for a long walk into town last Sunday, and then along tho wharf, but it was too wet to go out to-day. My brother and mum wont to the pictures on Friday to see “Miss New Zealand,” and they thought it very interesting. My little sister, who is two, is going to be a great bookworm; she looks at dad’s books for quite a long time and pretends to read them. We have a nice black cat called “Dutchy,” which followed us home one night last year, when wo had been to seo the Duke who had just arrived; don’t you think she is very romantic? She certainly has brought luck with her anyway. Well, I think I had better write your competition now, so good-bye until next week, with lots of love to all. — Nancy Harris.

[That’s quite a letter, Nancy. And I have to thank your brother Eric, who also sent a nice long one. The first Miss New Zealand is a friend of mine, Nancy, and a very charming friend she >s, too; but tho second Miss New Zealand I don’t know, although I expect she is quite as nice as she looks. Surely, Nancy dear, you don’t believe blact cats bring good luck? It is one of those queer ideas that belong to tho days when folk believed that witches could givo bad luck. Cats, like other animals, have an ’instinct for kind people, which explains why “ Dutchy ” followed you home, and also tells mo the sort of little sister you arc. If your little two-year-old sister —she is mine now, isn’t she, too?—shows signs of being a book-worm, why, encourage her, Nancy. Folk who like reading get more enjoyment out of life than any others. Thank you for your interesting letter.] ‘ • 78a Highgate, Roslyn. Dear Big Brother Bill, —Mother lias boon reading your bed-time stories every Saturday night, and I would like to join your happy family. I will bo eight years old on August 10. 1 have two sisters, Lorraine and Betty. We go to tho Kaikorai School, and wo like our teachers very much We arc all waiting for the summer to como again so that wo may go to tho beach and play in tho sand. Well, dear Brother Bill, I must get ready for bed now, and, hoping you will let me join your happy family.—Yours sincerely, Ramsay Armstrong. '[Splendid, Ramsay. You will soon he able to read tho stories for yourself; there wasn’t one word wrongly spelled in your letter, and it was very nicely written too. Afternoons on tho bench are stunning, but tho sand will get into the sandwiches, which isn’t nice at all. It would bo a stunning idea to have a sand-castlo building competition ono summer Saturday afternoon, wouldn’t it? I must write that down in _my “notion” hook for future consideration. And a very kind person _ with a lovely little farm at Wakari has already suggested a Radio Family picnic there, when tho summer comes again. Thank you for youi letter, and lie sure to write again coon.] 147 King Edward street, South Dunedin. Dear Big Brother Bill,—l wrote to you before, and I was wondering it you_had got my letter or not, because I did not seo it in the paper. I am twelve years old, and my birthday is oa April 23. Wo have not got a wireloss sot, but would like to get one. Wo have a piano, and my sister can play, hut I cannot. My brother lias a book called ‘ Big Brother ’; it should ho called ‘Big Brother Bill.’ Well, that is all, with heaps of love to you and your big family.—Your truly, Patricia Patton (Pat). [Well Pat., there is your letter, large and fine in black and white, it doesn’t look too bad either, docs it? If tho book is a nice one, by all moans call it ‘ Big Brother Bill,’ and I shall feel quite proud. The other day ono of tho family wrote to say ho had a little pig given to him, and ho had called ifc Big Brother Bill. Ho _ asked did I mind? What do you think of that now? I have cats, dogs, parrots, kitten—black ones—rabbits, bantams, a little pig, and now a book called after mo; but I don’t feel very happy about tho pig. How would you like someone to write and say that every timo they looked at their pet pig they thought of you; perhaps, however, tho pig will soon die, and he made into bacon. I don’t mind tho book having my name, Pat, but I shall not givo my name to any more pigs. ‘ Thank you for your nico littlo letter.]

T 0 BE WRITTEN IN THE TITLE PAGE OF ANY BOOK GIVEN TO A GUILD

Child, do not throw this book about, Refrain from tho unholy pleasure Of cutting ail the pictures out; Preserve it as your chiefest treasure. Child, have you never heard it said That you are heir of all the ages? Why, then, your hands were never made To tear these beautiful thick pages. Your little hands wore made to take Tho better things and leave tho worse ones; They also may bo used to shako The Massive Paws of Elder Perseus And when your prayers complete tho d«y> Darling, your little tiny hands Were also made, J. think, to pray For men that Jose their fairy lands. —H. Belloc. GIHtIOOS FACTS What is it that drives octopus every year to commit suicide in the little inlet of Anderson’s Bay? A small boy asked Big Brother Bill this question as we were passing round the said inlet the other day. I don’t know, if I did I should be able to explain other curious happenings of the same kind. Many shellfish, of course, are washed ashore by wild storms, but why is tho frost ILh found on the shore in calm weather? When frost comes the air is still, and so is the ocean. Perhaps tho reason is that tho frost fish is- a deep-sea fish, and when it rises to shallow waters it becomes helpless, drifting about until it is washed ashore by tho tide. But I don’t know. The ribbon fish is the same, though this lovely, shining thing only comes ashore at rare intervals. They are sometimes 20ft _ long, shining lik* silvered mother-of-pearl. lof people believe that the legendf «nr the sea serpent have arisen because someone with a vivid imagination happened to see * ribbon fish. Perhaps its long length

is helpless when near the ocean bup* face, and the tide throws it on tho sand. But I don’t know. Mackerel very often come ashore m thousands, so that their silvery bodies make the sand look like shining snow. There are people who say that this is because tho mackerel are trying to escape from the savage jaws of bigger fish p but one wouldn’t think that in trying to escape one kind of death they willingly committed suicide. Here, again, we don’t know. Whales and blackfish—a smaller kind of whale—often come ashore in shoals. They do it so determinedly that, even when the silly things have been pushed back into deep water they still come back to become- stranded, and die on the sand or rocks. Smaller members of my family will know, of course, that whales and blackfish come near shore to scrape the barnacles off their bodies by scratching on the rocks; in doing this they may become stranded and die. But does that explain why fifty-three whales once came ashore and died in Duck River, Tasmania? Or why, on a later occasion. 120 large whales cams ashore to die on Bruny Beach, south of Tasmania? When one rabbit is trapped all tho others run and hide from danger, which seems quite natural; but when one whale or blackfish becomes trapped on the land, all the others rush in to be trapped and die, too. which seems extraordinary to say the least. We really don’t know why, because we have no means of discerning the queer instincts and motives that guide the fish that swim in the deep. Perhaps the octopus, which is one of the horrible things hidden in the deep waters, is moved by some queer instinct, and rises like some cloud of slime from the sea bottom, to be cast in hundreds to die on the coast. Which is all to the good. The less horrible monsters in the sea, the safer it is for bathing, but the wretched things might really choose some other place than the pretty inlet at Anderson’s Bay. AT THE ZOO There are Hons and roaring tigers, and enormous camels and things, There are biffalo-buffalo-bisons, and a great big bear with wings, There’s a sort of tiny potamus, and a tiny nosserus, too— But I gave buns to the elephant when I went down to tho Zoo. There are badgers and bidgers and hedgers, and a, super-in-tondent’s house, There are masses of goats, and a Polar, and different kinds of mouse, And I think there’s a sort of something which is called a wallaboo — But I gave buns to tho elephant when I wont down to the Zoo. If you try to talk to tho bison, ho never quite understands; You can’t snake hands with a mingo—ho doesn’t like shaking hands, And lions and roaring tigers hato saying “How do you do?— So I give buns to the elephant when I go down to the Zoo. THE COMPETITION ; This competition may be called “Hidden things to eat.” You_ must read the 'sentence carefully, and it will suggest some single article of food, or article related to food. The first sentence will explain. This competition will close on Saturday, July 28. Nature’s contribution to tho food wo eat—water. \What Susan said when she saw a njousc. What women (knead) most. At the beginning of time. A carriage and a period of time. What the patient has and tho doctor gets. Made of grass mostly. Cub a letter off and you have a pain. The goat gets even with the girl. A Bible woman comes to a sad ending. Jewels. Scorned by the Jews. An easy promoter of many tears. A delicious emblem of stupidity. Something lovers are fond of. Fifth of November celebrations. The moon is said to be made of this. Found under the Rhine. What an American mother calls her child. Things which keep their mouths shut. Fruit and a girl’s name. A little green berry and a half-wit.

THE TRICK OF REYNARD, THE FOX A BED-TIME TALE Once upon a time, as you know very well, tho animals could all talk plainly one to another, in those days, Reynard, tho fox, was playing on a line summer day with Lrmelyn Ids wife, and his two sous, Reynardme and Rose!. He was also keeping one eye wide open for tho expected visit of his uncle Bruin, the bear. Ho needed to, because, in his usual slim and tricky fashion, ho had played a very nasty joke on his aunt, Dam© Bruin, which had resulted in that good lady pitching head first down a deep and slimy well; only the presence of a farm boy, who got tho shock of his young life when the bucket ho drew from the well was seen to be full of exceedingly angry bear instead of well water, prevented Reynard’s aunt being drowned. His uncle Bruin was therefore quite likely to be in a very bad mood, as he certainly was when he arrived. . . “If I do nob receive adequate satisfaction from you for the injury to your aunt’s dignity,” he bellowed in a frightful rage. “I shall most certainly carry my complaint to the king.” But his scamp of a nephew only made a long nose at Bruin. “Pray do not excite yourself, he said soothingly, “and you shall have balm for your wounded pride. What would you say to a load of honeycomb as compensation? It is nasty sticky stuff. 1 know, but unfortunately there is little else to offer you.” Bruin tho bear’s eyes opened wide, then began to glitter with greed. “ Honeycomb,” he said as he ran his long tongue round his thick lips. “My dear nephew, did I hear you speak slightingly of honeycomb, or am I just dreaming? . Dear fellow, there is nothing in tho world tastes so good as far as l"am concerned.” “ Say but the word and my whole stock shall be yours. You may eat all you can and carry the remainder away,” promised Reynard glibly. So, completely soothed by this toothsome offer, Bruin the bear permitted his graceless scamp of a nephew to lead him to a garden on the brink of a stream some distance away. The garden belonged to a woodsman, and a newly-felled tree lay there. The trunk had been split,- and the cleft was held open by two strong wedges. “The store of honey is in there, dear uncle,” Reynard whispered, “ and you need but put your head in the crack to obtain it.” Without a word Brum the bear thrust in his head and forefeet and began to hunt for the honey; he was so busy that he quite failed to see Reynard the fox pulling out the wedges. Like the jaws of a trap the tree suddenly sprang together, and the bear was trapped with head, forepaws, and ears held fast. With dismal howls ho tried to free himself, making so_ great a noise that the woodsman seized a great cudgel and ran to see what was causing the row. But Reynard the fox slipped quietly away, feeling, as he explained to his wife Lrmelyn, that tins was no place for him. “Really, my dear,” he said to her, “ uncle’s "language was not fit for «. gentleman to hear*’!

But the woodsman didn’t run away. “ Como, quick,” ho shouted. “ There’s a bear caught in tho tree.” And tho people were not at all slow to accept his invitation. Armed with hammers, iron bars, dubs of wood, anything they could lay thenhands on, they rushed into tho garden, followed by several «omen with fireirons, brooms, and And all together they played on poor Bruin’s defenceless back as though it was a big drum. Maddened by the pain, he tore himself free at last, leaving his ears, claws, and a good deal of skin still in the cleft.

Furious with pain and covered with blond, Bruin tho Bear made such a wild rush at his tormentors that one of the women screamed with fright and fell backwards in tho stream. Since she was no swimmer the men left tormenting Bruin and ran to her rescue, which allowed Bruin to crawl into the water unobserved and swim down the stream.

Ho reached home in a dreadful condition and lay upon his bed moaning with pain, while his wife dressed his hurts with bandages and salvo. “ Wait till I am better,” he moaned. “ and that nephew of mine shall know the weight of my paw.” “But, my dear,” said his wife unpleasantly, the catastrophe could not have happened if your own greed, had not blinded you to tho danger. In my judgment greedy people deserve all they get. Now turn over and let mo bandage your other ear.” Which, come to think about the matwasn’t bed, for a beae-