BIG BROTHER BILL AND THE BAIRNS

Evening Star, Issue 20256, 17 August 1929, Page 9

BIG BROTHER BILL AND THE BAIRNS

A WEEKLY TALK Hello, everybody! The winner of the last competition was George Napier, 16 Mitchell avenue, Mornington. This competition was that of word-changing, and, although a good many of the family made an attempt, George Napier set his answers out in the neatest manner. The answers would take too much space to print complete, so Big Brother BUI does not do so this week. Examinations—then term holidays; that’s the order just now, isn’t it? Hard work, then a nice long rest. When Brother Bill went to school 'some boys used cribs at examination time. It was cheating, of course, and, although they did pretty well at examination rime, “ cheats never prosper.” That’s a good old proverb, and a very true one, too. Every fellow who uses a crib ought to bo found out and properly spanked. And that usually happens sooner or later. It may not happen at school, to bo sure, but the chap who uses cribs at school gets into the way «f cheating as am easy escape from hard problems. The wretched'" business eats into bis character like acid into iron, and sooner or later folk see that ho can’t be relied on, which is about the time that he begins to receive his punishment. If you can’t get credit by successfully doing a hard thing, don’t cheat to get what you can’t earn. Men and women like an honest dunce better than a clever scamp; you’ll find that to be true of everybody always. Brother Bill is writing this little notebecause one of he family has asked bira whether winning by cheating is right. Of course it isn’t. If a sixpence earned is better than a shilling stolen, then a few marks won honestly prove you a better fellow than the chap who gets to the top of the class by secret cheating That’s all there is to that. Big Brother Bill wishes all the family a successful and happy examination at school, and a .rollicking tjine during the term holidays. Your always affectionate, BIG BROTHER BILL. MANY HAPPY RETURNS OF THE DAY Big Brother Bill regrets to say that so many birthdays have accumulated, and there is so little space in which to put them all, that some of the bairns may be disappointed because their names are not in this list. It is too bad, of course, but you will have to forgive him if your name is not limited here. It was called over the air, at any rate, which is one consolation. He can only print a list of the most recent, but will try to keep birthdays up to date in future. Archie Jelley, Mosgiel, was seven years old on August 13. The radio postie left a parcel in the radio cabinet. Thomas Campbell. 32 Ross street, Roslyn, rvas seven y*us on August 13. The radio postie called and left a parcel (a football) on the front door mat. Thelma Thompson, 10 Waverley street, Dunedin, was three years on August 13. The radio postie called and left a parcel in the hail. Johnny Rogers, Start street, Ivaitnngatn, was five years on August 13. The radio postie called and left a parcel on top of iho piano. .•’here is a party to come later, with a spleud.d cake

Eric Brown, Fitzroy street, Dunedin, was four years on August U. The radio postio called and left two parcels. One in the piano stool and another in the gramophone cabinet Edna Brown. Eric’s sister, had a hirthdav on June 29. The postic called on Eric’s hirthdav and left two parcels for her, also in the places. Bona Bingham, 127 Queen street, Dunedin, was seven years on August 14. The postie called and leit a parcel on the hall seat. Eddie Renwick, Outram, was live years on August 14. The radio-postio called and left a parcel in his bedroom. Basil Marshall, Winton, was live years on August 14. The radio postie called and left a parcel from mother and dad, under the radio. Jimmy Mathesdh, 44 Elliot street, Anderson’s Bay, was live years on August; 14. The radio postio called and left a parcel in the radio cabinet. Jean Dunn, 67 Opoho road, Dunedin, was four years on August 14. The radio postie called and left a parcel on the hall table. Joyce Throp, .Lynwood avenue, Dunottar, was twelve on August 14. Iho radio. ..postio called with a parcel and left in in the log box in the living room. Lyla Tosh. -Kaitangata. was twelve on August 14. The radio postie left Lvla a. parcel behind the piano in the front room. Adeline Marctt. Macandrews Lay, was eight years on August 14. The radio postie called and left a parcel in the duchess in mother’s room. Bill Hudson was a lucky fellow the other night. It wasn’t, his birthday, but the radio postie left a. box in the garage; and in the bos were three perfectly stunning bantams. Splendid lor little brother Bill. THE POSTIE’S BAG V ’ -310 King ■; street. Dear Big Brother Bill, —How are you keeping? "I hope you have not got the ’flu, as most people seem to have. When you were speaking over the air about pets I remembered reading about two dogs who were very great fiends. One day the fox terrier fell into a canal, and when the other dog saw that none of the men were coming to the terrier’s aid he hurried over to help his playmate. Ho found that his iriend could not climb the bank, ho stretched himself out full length and caught his plavmate by the collar and pulled him out. Don’t you think the dog must hove known about his playmate’s peril? Well, Brother Bill, I must close now. With heaps of Jove to you and Aunt Sheila.—l remain, yours lovingly, Betty -Monson. , [Thank you for your little letter, Betty Monson. It so happens that Big Brother Bill did get the ’flu or somethin" very like it. The effects were the same, anyway, but like the French gentleman who cured people by telling them to believe they were really oetter,- “ cverv day in every way I’m getting better and better.” That is a delightful little story. Betty, about those, two dogs. , Certainly it seems as though one of them could reason. You know ot course that reasoning means being able to think things out, which the hero clog seemed very well able to do. Did you ever see the Horse-Guards at London? 'They are fine-looking men, rather wonderfully dressed in glittering uniforms, and they keep guard at the King’s palace. They ride coal-black horses that are remarkably intelligent. - The horses know exactly' what to do when the officer similes orders; and when they wait mss the pauid' ground, four in a lifter filhS IQux: ks.cnv quite well

that their duty is to remain on sentry for an how before the great gates o! tho palace,' When Brother Bill used to watch them lie was sure they could reason quite as well as tho soldiers on their backs. There will bo some other talks about this subject; you must listen! ami let Brother Bill know what you think about them.]

Dear Brother Bill, —May I join your largo family? 1 como Irom a, small family. I have only ono sister, two years younger than 1 am, and wo olten think What fun it would be if we had a lot of sisters and brothers. 1 bad another sister, Brother Bill, but she died when she was eight and. a-half years old. Jt would be i lovely if she was hero now. It is. only two years since ] came to live in Dunedin. Bel ore that I.used to live in Otago Central. I Uko it better than the town, Brother Bill. The country is lovely, 1 think. AVhat lovely times w© all used to have together! I think ono can bo moro lonely Ain, a town than the country, but, however, wo must be content, as ono cannot expect to have everything one’s own way and to one’s own liking. .1 am thirteen years old. Brother Bill, hut only in Standard IV. I did not go to school until I was seven years old, and then I had to stay away two years on account of illness, and' then for one year I was only allowed to go for ono hour a day. Did you like the snow, Brother Bill? 1 think most children like the snow, and delight to' make snow ineu. 1 do not think if lasts long enough in Dunedin. In Qtago Central it'usually, lasts much longer; I think, perhaps, on account of if freezing at night. I suppose you have been up there in the winter 'and summer. Isn’t it lovely in tho summer. Brother Bill, to go through some of tho orchards just when the trees are in blossom." It is a perfect picture, rows and rows of lovely pink and white blossoms. No artist could do that picture justice, Brother. Bill. Mother says I must not make _ my letter too long,, or you may get tired of reading it. My father' went to Southland last Monday. He left Dunedin about 4 o’clock, and did not reach Drummond until Tuesday at half-past 5. It was a long journey, owing to the roads being in such a state. We expect him homo to-night. It is always exciting-expect-ing clad homo. Have!you any little girls to get excited when it is time for you to he getting home, Brother Bill. Our cousin, Frank, has been staying with us since dad went away. Wo really call him our big brother, as most of girls seem to have a brother and wo have not. Wo thought we would adopt our cousin for one. 1 am trying tho competition this week; it is very interesting., Brother Bill, don’t you think little girls work very bard nowadays when school is over. Now, Brother Bill, I most stop and go to bed, as my mother believes in girls going to bed early. My sister is going to write to yon soon to see if she can join /your family, too. With kind regards to Brother Bill.; —From Audrey Cameron, 71 Malvern street, Woodha ugh. [Yours is quite a delightful letter, Audrey, and I am sure the family will bo very interested in reading it. Your name is in the honour square because you write in such an interesting fashion. You sound to he a lonely little sister, Audrey Cameron, and rather thoughtful for your years. You know, little girl, our loved ones who go down the Valley of the Shadow are not lost to us. A very wise and good man once said “we are surrounded by a_ great cloud of witnesses.” He was thinking of the old Roman amphitheatre, where the folk sat ono tier above another, dressed in their lovely holiday robes, looking in the sunlight like some wonderfully tinted cloud. In tho sandy centre of the- ampithentre the gladiators and athletes did their best to please them, for ibis wise and good man, whoso name was Paul, said that life was just Uko that picture. Wewho live are acting our parts on the stage of life, and those who have, passed “ are tho great cloud of witnesses.” Big Brother Bill thinks that your sister may bo nearer to you than you dream, Audrey, even though you think she has passed away. You know, Brother Bill gets so many letters telling about tho beauty of Otago Central that he feels he- will have to go there one clay. And your description of the orchards in spring time is quite charming. Yes, I like tho country much better than the city. And snow, nico and crispy, not wet and slushy, makes even the winter to be delightful. If (Cousin Frank has the makings of a good brother, then by all moans adopt him, and do it quickly. It might be a wise things to put him on, say. six months’ probation, Audrey, thou if be behaves himself properly you can hay© an adoption party, and Brother Bill will come and help eat the lovely cake that mother will 'make to celebrate. Six months’ probation is necessary, because boys are such “kittle cattle” as a nile. ' Of course, you won’t toll Cousin Frank what Brother Bill is saying, or he will be seeking me with a big gun.] 79 Prince Albert road, St.'Hilda. Dear Brother Bill,—Would you mind having another little sister in your family? I am just seven years old, and am in Standard I. at school. I often read the letters of the other sisters and brothers, and wished I could join. I’Ve have two canaries at Home. They live in a lovely big cage, and one is a good | whistler. I have such a, darling little j niece. Sho is only a few weeks old. i I am going to stay with her next week, as mv mother is going to Australia for a holiday. I do -not mind her going away when I have tho baby to play with." It is pfisfc my bedtime, so I will have to say 'goodnight to you and to tbc rest of tho family.—With love to all, from Rosio Waldron. , [Thank you for your letter, Rosie Waldren. 'To be sure, there is room for another little sister in the family. There is room for the little baby niece as well, but yon don’t tell her name. Brother Bill thinks that canaries are tho loveliest little birds, Rosie, especially the little fellows that whistle. When they stand on their perch, put their wee heads back, and whistle thenjoy you wonder where all the lovely sound comes from. I suppose the canary that doesn’t whistle, Rosie, is Cuthbert Canary’s wife, because mother canaries don’t whist© as a rule, so I’m told. It may be that, like mothers in a home, they have too many things to think about to have time to whistle and sing; but they’re happy in their own way, I’ll be bound. When dees your mother return from Australia, Rosie? You will be counting the days, and so will mother. We must all hope that tho sea will bo calm, tho -weather right, and the ship safe and sound to bring her home again. Write again soon.] 153 Bay View road, St. Hilda. Dear Big Brother Bill,—May I become one of,your family of little folk? 1 am twelve years of age and am in Standard VI. at the Macamlrew Road School. I went to your children’s party, and enjoyed myself very much. I enjoy reading your column in the ‘ Evening Star,’ and on Saturday I always wait impatiently for it to come. I think that your page is the best, and my two sisters and 1 have some fun trying to solve the mysteries of your competitions. I have a little, Iriendj Laura Roberts, and. when I go

to her place to play 1 listen in to the wireless, too. I went to an entertainment at tho Cargill Road Church, and bked it very-much. I am going away with my mother during tho term holi.iftvs to Christchurch and Mothvcn, We will bo starting our term exam, tomorrow, and I hope to gain my pronciency certificate this year. Well, as 1 have no more news L will close.— With love from Sadie Syder.

[Well, Sadie Syder, your writing is quite good, anyway; sufliciently good to put you in tho Honour Square for neatness. You are very welcome to tho family, and there is a scat in the Circle for you. Thank you for the kind that you say i>jboub the bairns’ columns, i’ou are going to have "a perfectly stunning holiday—Christchurch and Mcthvcn. You must write arid tell me exactly what you did whilst away from Dunedin. Keep a little diary, Sadie, and write tho most/ interesting things in it. Then you can tell Brother Bill all about it when you return. X hope that you have stunning weather and tho happiest possible time.] Metropole Flats, St. Clair. Dear Big Brother Bill, —May 1 join vour happy band? I have for a long time been going to write to you. 1 enjoy reading your columns m the • Star.’ 1 am nine and a-half years of age, and my birthday is ou December 20. I hope you all had a happy time at the radio party.—l remain, yours truly, Pat Hill. [Your letter is very short, Pat Hill, but quite nice for ail that. Most certainly you can join the family, and I hope you will be happy among us. Ton know, Pat, that being a member of Brother Bill’s family means that you must do certain things. Tho most important of these is that you must help all that you can in your own home. And what you do there must be done graciously. That’s a long word, but it means that you must help mother and dad, doing all they ask—with a smile. Brother Bill does not like grumpy bairns; but he does like the company of happy-hearted, helpful youngsters, and fortunately the family is made up of this. kind. So there you are, Pat. Yon must write again about your birthday when the date comes nearer; the radio postie might do something- for you.]

32 Eglingtou road

Dear Big Brother Bill, —I would like to be in your happy family. I am nearly eight years old, and . I am in Standard I. I went to Waikawa. We wont in tho train to Invercargill then we had to take the bus to Waikawa. Then we had to take the launch across the river to Whitehead, where wo were going to stay. I got some Maori curios and starfish, and some flint and other things. We stayed nearly three weeks there.—Love from Winston Cooper, i [Thank you for your letter, Winston Cooper. You are very welcome to the happy family. What a delightful time you must have had on - your holiday trip. I have an id< here Waikawa is located. Brother used to have some very dear frit. m Invercargill and lie remembers smiie very happy hours spent in their home. But he hasn’t been whore you spent your holidays. What kjnd of Maori curios did you get, Winston ? Axe heads ? Brother Bill knows where there aro some old battlefields in the North Island, and almost anywhere you dig there are remnants of the fighting days ,to be found. One place is an old earth 7 fort by the Waikato River; wonderfully constructed by the Maori warriors of the old days. It was one of tho forts that oven the clever British soldiers wore unable to capture. Brother Bill kicked a piece of the earth and found a broken axe head. It was somewhere near this old fort where that brave bugler boy was roused in the early dawn by whispering among tho long grass as a -Maori warrior crept towards tho sleeping soldiers. He sprang to attention, bugle at his lips, to blow the alarm. But tho warrior chopped once, and the bugler’s right arm fell helpless at his side, gashed and broken at tho shoulder. Swiftly he changed the bugle to his left hand, and, as the alarm blared out, wakening the sleeping British soldiers, tho warrior chopped again and tho brave bugler joined tho long, long roll of England’s heroic dead. Wo can’t all be this sort of hero, Winston, but we don’t need to wait for war to try; wo can be splendidly bravo about right things just where we live, and that is the sort of courage that is just as valuable as that of .this boy who died in tho dawn long ago. Write to me again soon.]

THE COMPETITION

Hero is a guessing, competition that ought to be very easy' indeed. All you have to do is look round tho things in the kitchen* and scullery, and find those suggested l in the questions. Write your answers very neatly-, because the writing counts,, of course. The prize is the usual hall-crown. THINGS FOUND IN THE KITCHEN AND SCULLERY. A chain of mountains. A. part of Asia, A blossom. A metal. Worn round the waist. A sudden bump. To hurry. To go down slowly. A. draughtsman. What-the goat does. Another name for the policeman. A dandy. The Gulf Stream. Given by a cheeky boy. A noxious weed. Down in the dumps. She lin'd a little lamb. A very wige man. A quick temper. A very famous club uses it, A well-whipped boy does this. Necessary, but not always on floors. A slight knock! ' ■ TO-MORROW He was going to bo all that a mortal v could be To-morrow; No one should be kinder or braver than ho To-morrow; A friend who was troubled and weary ■ he knew Who’d be glad of a lift, and who .needed it, too; On him he would call and see what he could do To-morrow*

Each morning ho stacked up tho letters he’d write To-morrow; ‘ And thought of tho folks he would fill \idth delight ' To-morrow; It was too bad, indeed, ho was busy to-day, , , , , And hadn’t a minute to stop on ins way; ; More time I will have, to give others, ; he’d say, , ' To-morrow. Tho greatest of workers this■ man would have been , To-morrow. Tho world would have known him had ho ever seen To-morrow; But the fact is ho died, and he faded from view, And all that he left hero-when living was through Was a mountain of things he intended to do ■To-morrow; A VERY GOOD LITTLE BOY Onco there was a hoy who never Tore his clothes," or hardly ever; Never mad© his sister mad, Never whipped for bein’ bad. Never scolded by his Ma, Never frowned at by his Pa; Always fit for folks to see, , Always good as good could ho. This good little boy from Heaven, So I’m told was only seven, Yet ho never shed real tears When his mother scrubbed his ears; And at times when ho was dressed For a party, in his best, He was careful of his shirt Not to get it smeared with dirt. Used to study late at night, Learning how to read and write: When he played a football game. Right away he always came When his mother called him in:, And he never made a din, But was auiet as a mouse, When they’d company In the house. Liked to wash his hands and face. Inked to work around the place; Never, when he’d tired of play. Left his wagon in the way, Or his bat and ball around— Put them where they could be found; And that good boy married Ma, And to-day he is my Pa. HATUPATU AND THE WiTCH A BED-TIME TALE Once upon a time three brothers lived near Rotorua, Two, grown up, wore known as Hauui and iiaroa. The third, a boy, was named Hatupatu. Tlie two elder brothers were very unkind to Hatu, For one thing, they did not give him propel- food. " When they had cooked the birds they speared they themselves ate tho fat, tender ones, but gaye Hatu nothing but the lean, tough ones. The poor little fellow was so sad at the neglect and ill-treatment he suffered that when his brothers were away hunting and he was left alone he spent most of his time weeping by the fire At last lie made up his mind to got his fair share of good food, whether Ids brothers liked it or not He went to tho storehouse where the birds were kept preserved in fat in calabashes, and had a good meal there.

But ho know his brothers would miss tho food he hud stolen, so he set to work to make it appear that the theft was the work of a number of robbers. He trampled the moist earth all round tho storehouse, leaving many footprints all running -into one another. Then he ran a spehr into himself in two or three places, making tho blood How without hurting himself.overmuch, gave himself a good bruise or two on the head, and lay- down on the ground near the wharc.

When his brothers came back they found him there, to all appearance badly wounded. They saw that birds had been stolen from the food house, and they asked him what had happened. lie replied; “A war party has been here.” They went to look again, saw the footmarks and believed his story. They melted some fat and poured the oil on his wounds. Hatn said ho felt much better. The next day the brothers went off again to spear birds, and once more Hatu helped himself to food, and this he did so often that the others began to suspect him, and hid among the trees to watch him. As he made his way to the storehouse they suddenly pounced upon him, saying “Ha, ha! we’ve caught you now, you little rogue!” and they beat him severely. Hatu determined to run away and seek Jiis fortune. He set off through the bush, but there bo met a great tall witch with wings on her arms, who was spearing birds. Her name was Kura. She caught him and took him to her cave, where she kept him as her slave, fastening him in every morning before she went away to hunt. Every evening she brought home the birds she had speared, and gave some of the flesh to Hatu. She ate the bird flesh raw, but Hatu only pretended to eat his share. While she was away during the day he would light a fire and cook his food There were some things in the cavo Hatu much admired—a two-handed wooden sword, a beautiful cloak made of red feathers, and a mat, of woven flax. Kept in the cave, too, were a number of tame lizards and birds. Hatu grew tired of bis imprisonment, and determined to escape and carry off Kura’s valuable things. So one day, when the witch, who had forgotten to fasten the door, was far away, he took down the sword and with it killed the lizards and _ all the birds save one, which, escaping, flew to the witch, and said to her: “ 0 Kura, our home is ruined; ail our things arc destroyed!” “Who has done this?” asked Kura. “Hatu,” replied the bird. So Kura set off with long strides to catch Hatu. but he managed to keep ahead of her until they came to Rotorua. There Hatu, who knew the place, jumped over a spot where there was but a thin crust of earth,,, over hot rock. Kura, following him, did not know the danger, and. nuining right on the soft crust, fell through, and was burned to death. Hatu had now reached his real home, where he lived happily with his father' and mother. THE LOUIE RECIPE Here) is a recipe which will tell how to make treacle cream bonbons. Take one cup of golden syrup or treacle, and cook it in a small saucepan until the syrup just threads. This means until a little dropped into cold water makes twirly threads. Now take from the fire and add two tablespoons of cream. Now beat until thick and creamy, when you can add mils as you desire. If you haven’t cream, condensed milk will do in its place. This is the sort of.lollie that will not do anybody the slightest bit of .harm—will do good, in fact. Cheerio, everybody. BIG BROTHER BILL.