BIG BROTHER BILL and the BAIRNS

Evening Star, Issue 20996, 9 January 1932, Page 5

BIG BROTHER BILL and the BAIRNS

Hello Everybody!

The winner of the mixed market basket and changed word competitions is Mary Walsh, 27 Fitzroy street, Cav- . 'orsham. The competition for a smtable motto to head pur columns. for this year is continued for a lortnignt longer. You have still an opportunity to win the five shillings’ prize for this competition. Prize winners in other competitions will be announced next week. , ■ . 1 . , THE COMPETITION Here is a simple competition for ■ the. spare hours in your holidays, the ■prize will be two shillings and sixpence to the bairn who gives the correct answer written in the. neatest fashion. Send'your replies to Big Brother Bill, care ‘Evening Star,’ Stuart street, Dunedin, ~ and mark .. your envelopes ‘‘ Competition.” . ' buried trees. In the sentence the names of five trees are buried. What are they. “Taking his helmet and shield, to- ' gather with a map or plan, Edward set out, as pensive as though he were a poet: strange behaviour I am sure you will own.” , CHANGED WORD. Change the word “sand” into rock,” ‘altering only one letter at a time, making a. common, word at :each change, and‘ having only ■ three .intervening links. • ,

THE POSTIE'S BAG '■ 27 Fitzroy street, Cayersham. , Dear .Brother. Bill,—lt is a long time since I have written to you, but I have been working hard at school all the year. I go to St. Dominic’s College, where I am in Form 111. I am entering for the competition. 1 . worked the problem out by algebra, I won a prize at school for first algebra, first arithmetic, second geometry. -Wishing you a happy new year, I remain, your little friend, Mary Walsh. [Many thanks for your letter, Mary Wajsh. Brother Bill understands .that bairns who are busy at school cannot write to him as regularly as in holiday time, therefore, comes a small amount of, extra pleasure , when he fees; the ■y familiar writing after a long time. You • write very nicely: Mary, and i your answer to the competition was -also correct. The two things together have brought you the prize. You wilt ■have read in an answer tb one of tha . bairns the other week that Brother Bill- does not particularly like : geometry, but he admires the small person who could win the mathematics prize at school. May you win many more, and this year be a specially pros- : perous one in regard to school prizes ; for Mary Walsh. Write again soon.] 19 Passmore crescent, Maori Hill. Dear Big Brother Bill,—This is my first letter to you. My sister wrote to ' , you some time,ago, but she is down at ■ : Balelutha for her holidays, and as ■mother helped me to work out your Competitions I am writing myself this time. All our family have been down at Balelutha with grandma and granddad for the Christmas and New Year : holidays. They were not' half long enough. We had to come home on ;; Saturday because daddy wanted to go to work to-day. I sometimes wish daddies didn’t have tp work, especially ■ when-we have holidays. ;T heard the children’s session on the wireless all the time I was in Balelutha, I enjoyed it very much. ■ When I am ,at home I i, sometimes go into Mjrs Farquharaon's, and-she lets nie listen to the children’s ■ hour Did you have .a good holiday, Big Brother Bill? I hope everybody had a good holiday, as I did. Mother says everybody hasn’t a grandma like mine, but there is always somebody, who would lik© to mak© us <ul happy at Christmas time. I found two answers in the third hidden name sentence. Now I must stop writing and wish you and your big family a very happy new year.—From _ Mavis Ferguson. ! [Many thanks for your letter, Mavis Ferguson. It was a really interesting one, and your name is in the honour square; This -business of holidays is most important to lots of people, and it is really so simple after all. It is a splendid thing to have good folks, as you say, eager to make us happy, and . under those circumstances a holiday is the easiest thing; but it is better to, have the happy attitude of mmd that can make a holiday in the place where we are. Brother Bill knows a lady who ,cannot move in bed, nor can she move any part of her body excepting the arms from the elbows to the hands. But when holiday time comes she per- ; suades her husband to move the furniture in the bedroom, and, as she says, “ goes away for a change by bringing the change in her room.” That is just her jolly way of saying a very brave ' thing, but her brave attitude of mmd is wonderful. So if we can get the attitude of mind that is content with small things and make the most or - them we can always have', a holiday. Brother Bill knows Mrs Farquharson very well indeed, and hopes that you remember to thank her for sharing her pleasures. Write again soon.] , - • 90a Highgate, .Roslyn. Dear Big Brother Bill, —How are you getting on ? It seems such a long time since I last wrote' to you. It is nearly the end of another year, and I have just finished Standard 11. and am going into Standard 111. next year. I did not win any prizes, but I will try harder next time. I have been learning music,, and I won two prizes. I had two lovely books given to me. Did you hang your stocking up on Christmas Eve? I did, and it was filled with lots of lovely things. I also got a threepence out of the plum duff, and a!so'ate too much. lam sending in the answer to this week’s competition. I

am not going away for the holidays, but I am having a good time at home. We had a thrush with a broken wing m our garden for a week. My brother and I fed it, but I think a cat must have got it, because one day when 1 came home poor dickie was dead. Hoping that you enjoyed Christmas,— I am, yours sincerely, Pearl Jones. [Many thanks for your letter, Pearl Jones. Brother Bill is quite wellj and hopes that you are the same. It is too bad that you did not win any school prizes, but you did really, Pearl, when you finished school with the personal knowledge that you had done your very best. Indeed, there is no knowledge quite so well worth the gaining, and no prize to compare with it. As you grow toward .womanhood, Pearl, you will realise that to a conscientious person there is no taskmaster quite so hard as oneself, and no prize to compare with the feeling that, win or lose, one has put the best into the task. Of course Brother Bill hung_ up his stocking. There were gifts in them, too. Brother Bill is seriously thinking of wearing knee high stockings this year, beginning about .November, of course. Socks may be more manly, but they have a serious disadvantage at Christmas—they don’t hold enough. Brother Bill is also having a good time at home this year. You can, too, if. you keep your mind to the doing of it. Write again soon.] . 4Q Signal Hill road, Opoho. ’ Dear Big Brother Bill,—lt is quite a long time since I last wrote to you. Last time I wrote I told you that we had a day in Nelson called “Spud Monday,” and you asked what it was. It is the first Monday in August, when they hold the anniversary of the day when the first settlers planted potatoes. We have a holiday that day, and everyone plants potatoes. I passed Standard VI. this year, and shall be going to the Nelson Girls’ College. I am going into Form lII.c, which is commercial. You know the little boy you call Little Brother Bill? When I first heard you talking to Aunt Dot about him I thought he was a dog. Well, Big Brother Bill, I will close now. Wishing you and all the bairns a happy new y ear _Your loving sister, Rosie Heazlewood. [Many thanks for your letter, Rosie Heazlewood. Many_ thanks .also for answering Brother Bill’s question about Spud Monday in Nelson. It is a quaint idea. There is a day in England in connection with tulip growers somewhat similar in its meaning. The Lord Mayor’s Day in London is one of rather wonderful ceremonial, but it is also a most important day to all who love tulips. It is the orthodox day of planting the bulbs in readiness for the splendid beauties of these flowers in the next spring. _ Tim old-fashioned gardeners who believed in set days foi‘ doing certain important things always planted or began to plant their tulips On that day. But Big Brother Bill has not heard before that New Zealand had a day on which % the planting of spuds was' commemorated. Little Brother Bill is a. lovely baby boy, of whom Uncle Pete and Aunt Dot are the happy parents, and we are all glad td congratulate them, • especially as we have a wee share in making a fuss of him. Write again soon.] HOWS TO KILL A LION THE HORSE'S WAY Nurse had arrived at a little village in Nyasaland. It was part of her round; and she got there once a month, but never before had the visit been so full of excitement. . Instead of merely asking her to cure them ailments the people asked her to rid them of a lipn. It was a man-eater, and had been haunting them for some time. Already three people ihad been killed. The villagers possessed no firearms, and were in a state of terror. When Nurse volunteered to become a medical missionary she had been" prepared to risk much, but she was not prepared to attack a man-eating lion. So she suggested that an ox should be killed, that the carcase should be dosed with morphia, and that the bait should he put near the lion’s haunt. The deed was done. Although the lion devoured the bait ho was not killed by the morphia, but it made him so sleepy that he knew nothing about the spear thrusts that ended his career. Mr Cooke Yarborough, who vouches for the truth of this tale and says that it happened quite lately, adds that Nurse thus accounted for the morphia: “ Medicine for one out-patient 7s 6d.” HELEN KELLER Miss Helen Keller, the wonderful blind and deaf woman who has burst the bonds of one of her three prisons and learned to speak, although she has no memory of ever having heard a single sound, has spent the summer in England and on the Continent. She makes sopm interesting comparisons between the provisions made for the blind in the various countries she has visited, in which, we are glad to say, we come off not too badly. She speaks in terms of high praise of the London Library for the * Blind, which contains five miles of books in Braille. Hero she was able to find translations of French authors such as Victor Hugo. She looked forward to reading these in the original in Franco, the home of Louis Braille, who invented the touch alphabet commonly used for books for the blind,- which bears his name. These books she could not find in France. / She also speaks in glowing terms of the provision made by the British Government for sending books for the blind without charge through the, post. The practice, still followed in France, of charging full tariff for these bulky volumes often works a real hardship on the blind, for their earning power is already reduced by their handicap. It is good to have the w’ord from time to time of those whom we attempt to serve that our efforts are effective and that they are appreciated. Miss Keller’s teacher, Mrs John Macy, who has devoted her life to freeing her pupil from her two prisons of blindness and deafness, and liberating the powers of her mind, travels with' her. They will return shortly to, America. , .

AUTUMN COMES TO THE ZOO The Zoo’s busy season is over and the gardens are wearing their usual autumn mantle of gloom. . 1 The mammals are changing their coats, so some of them look shabby and bedraggled; the birds are growing silent, and many are depressed because they can no longer flaunt gaily-hued plumes. All hibernates are growing sluggish, ready for a long sleep, for although menagerie conditions make it easy for such creatures as dormice and marmots to wake up and feed during the winter months, they invariably indulge their instinct to hibernate as soon as the autumn season arrives. To the penguins, wolves, baby walruses, and other lovers of chilly weather, the prospect of winter is not disturbing, but the majority of_ the inmates of the Zoo are not feeling their happiest at this time of the year. However, the menagerie has its bright even in the autumn. The deer are in high spirits, ready to fight any creature who crosses their path, for the moss has peeled off their antlers, leaving them very formidable weapons. As they, stand in an alert, war-like attitude, uttering their battlechallenges, they make a striking picture. But while they are in this mood, no one should attempt to j make friends with them.' The autumn is their mating , time, and as soon as their antlers are bare of moss, the animals become dangerous. The birds of Paradise differ from the other brilliant avians in the menagerie because they do not come into full plumage to welcome the spring, but to be prepared for the rainy season; so they look their best in the autumn. Just now these glorious feathered creatures are showing off their lovely plumes, and the Zoo visitor who watches patiently may be fortunate enough to see the cock birds displaying so effectively that their feathers vibrate. This is one of Nature’s most beautiful sights, and it is difficult to believe that the magnificent bird of Paradise is a near ally of the crqw, and so greedy that the Zoo frequently has trouble to prevent him from' eating until he falls in a fit! There should be some interesting additions in the gardens next year, for the Zoo -has commissioned a naturalist to visit Australia to collect rare specimens. It is hoped that he will bring back examples of the duck-billed platypus, the kiwi, and,the koala, or tree-bear. BLACK BABOONS AND BIRDS OF PARADISE A number of interesting creatures collected in Java have been added to the menagerie. _ ' The consignment consists of four examples of the babirussa, or deer-hog (a wild hog with curved, horn-like tusks), a pair of black baboons from the Celebes Islands, a marbled cat from Borneo, a giant squirrel and two smooth-pawed _ otters from Java, and a variety of birds of Paradise. All the newcomers are worth seeing, especially as they happen to be tame enough to be handled by strangers, but the most important _of them are the baboons and the babirussa's. The black baboons _ are the first of their kind to be exhibited at the Zoo for many years, for these simians are almost extinct, and are to be found only in one particular area. The pair are youngsters , only six months old, but already they have an air of distinction. They look like young drills;, but while these large African baboons are a _ sooty-grey, the black baboons, as their name suggests are entirely and definitely black., When they grow up their fur will be a glossy, jet black, their faces will be deeply furrowed, and their stature and gait will be those of a, drill. The bqdirussas are just as rare a sight in the menagerie. They are not beautiful creatures,. for their grey bodies are practically naked, but they, too, look interesting. The Zoo has also acquired two rhea chicks, born in this country four, months ago. They are diminutive of the South American, or three-toed ostrich and should prove attractive additions to the menagerie, for they are inquisitive enough to want to approach visitors, and tame enough to respond to friendly overtures. The adult rhea is not usually a satisfactory pet, for he is liable to take sudden_ dislikes, when he will charge the object of his displeasure. Other newcomers are two baby coypus, which are to be seen swimming about the pond with their parents. At one time these amphibious South American rodents bred ’ regularly, but for the last two or- three years the coypus have had no young, and so these babies are getting a considerable amount of attention. GOLDFISH I suppose it has never occurred to many of iis to wonder' where the pretty little gold fishes come from. We see them swimming round and round in the glass bowls in our greenhouses or brightening the dull waters of the quiet pools in our parks, and there our interest stops. Gold fishes are reared-in proper farms which exist for the purpose in various parts of the world. Perhaps the largest of such farms is situated in' Indiana, in the United States. Here there are breeding and rearing pools covering twenty acres or more, and usually there are close upon a quarter of a million fishes in the various stages of growth. The ponds are all out in the open, and are not protected from either heat or cold, save that the breeding ponds have high embankments to keep off the bitterest winds. As soon as the fishes are hatched in one pool they pass on to the next, where they grow to a certain size; then they move to the next station, and so the process goes on. Feeding is a comparatively simple matter, for at practically all stages the fishes receive the same kind of food—toasted breadcrumbs. These are only administered twice a week; for the rest the creatures must find what they can in the water.

A FAMOUS SCHOOLBOY FRIENDSHIP Most of us remember our first day at the new school. There is burned into our minds the unforgettable picture of a boy or a girl, quite alone and very unhappy, stranger within the gates, the only sign of recognition by the other scholars a vacant stare which served to convey, the idea that we were not wanted. And some of us, too, remember equally well the first boy or girl who spoke to us, relieving the strangeness, and who later became our greatest companion. School friendships are splendid things. We suddenly realise that So-and-So is quite a fine fellow or nice girl; we grow more and more intimate; and eventually we feel that it would break our hearts to part with him or her. Perhaps the comradeship lasts right on through our school lives, and then, school days over, we both go our ways, with many promises and much, swearing of eternal friendship. For a year max be we write regularly to, each other. Then • other folks drift into our days; new friendships are'formed; we get new mteiesfc in life. Somehow or other we think less and less about So-and-So. The letters come and go with not quite the same frequency, until in time they cease altogether; and before long we lose touch altogether with the inseparable comrade of our childhood’s days. Sometimes, however, a school comradeship lasts, and is carried down through life. Such an one was that which existed between two little fellows who found themselves scholars of the famous Christ’s Hospital, or Blue Coat School, of London, in the year 1782. These two boys were Charles Lamb and Samuel Taylor Coleridge. In many ways Lamb was the luckier of the two. Coleridge lived away at Ottery St. Mary, in Devon, but Lamb’s home was at no great distance from the school, and he was allowed to go and see his friends almost as often as he wished. Day after day good food was brought to him. which he enjoyed while Ins fellow scholars half-starved on the nusfrabl diet of the school. In his own delightful essay on ‘ Christ’s Hospital ’ in the famous ‘ Essays of Elia,’ Charles Lamb has told us about the school and himself and the scholars, just as he imagined his friend Cole-' ridge must have seen things. He says: “ In lieu of our scanty mutton scrags on Fridays—and rather more savoury, but grudging, portions of the same flesh, rotten-roasted or rare, on the Tuesdays (the only dish which excited our appetites and disappointed our stomaens, in almost equal proportion) he had his hot plate of roast veal, or the more tempting griskin (exotics unknown to our palates),’ cooked in the paternal kitchen (a great thing), and brought him daily by his maid or aunt!—l remember the good old relative (in whom love forbade pride), squatting down upon some odd stones in a by-nook of the cloisters, disclosing the viands; and the contending passions of L. at the unfolding. There was love for the bringer; shame for the thing brought, and the manner of its bringing; sympathy for those who were too many to share in it, and, at the top of all, hunger (eldest, strongest of the passidns!) predominant, breaking down the stony fences of shame, and awkwardness, and a troubling overconsciousness.” Though he does not say so, we can well imagine that young Coleridge shared in some of these welcome repasts. On holidays the boys made their way, if it was warm, to the New River, where they bathed. “How merrily we would sally forth into the fields; and strip under the first warmth of the sun; and wanton like young dace in the streams; getting us appetites for noon, which tliose of us that were penniless (our scanty morning crust long since exhausted) had not the pieans of allaying—while the cattle, and the birds, and the fishes, were at feed about us, and we had nothing to satisfy our cravings.” Or else they wandered “prowling about the streets objectless—shivering at cold windows of print shops, to extract a little' amusement; or haply, as a last resort, in the hopes of a little novelty, paying a fifty-times repeated visit to the Lions in the Tower. I am afraid life in Christ’s Hospital was not a very pleasant thing for any of the scholars, as you will understand when you' read the ‘ Essays of Elia ’ (as I hope you will after you have perused this article), for the masters were severe, and the monitors were “ young brutes.” Yet the two friends found consolation in each other. Writing thirty-five years after about his friend Lamb says: “How have I seen the casual passer through the Cloisters stand ( still, entranced with admiration to hear thee unfold in thy deep and sweet intonations, the mysteries ofJamblichus, or Platinus (for even in those years thou waxedst not pale at such philosophic draughts), or reciting Homer in his Creek, or Pindar—while the walls of the old Grey Friars reechoed to the accents of the inspired charity boy.” . ’ The friendship thus formed continued unbroken for half a century, and was only brought to an end by the death of Coleridge in 1834. Strangely enough, both lads as they grew, became writers of books, and both rose to the pinnacle of success in literature. Coleridge we shall always remember for his ‘ Ancient Mariner,’ if for nothing else, and Lamb’s 1 Essays of Elia ’ have won for their writer undying fame. As they grew up they became members of a wonderful circle of literary friends, which included Wordsworth, Southey, Leigh Hunt, and Hazlitt; but the two were always something apart from the ordinary friends. They loved to tease each other to the great delight of the remainder of the circle. When Coleridge died in 1834. Lamb was heart-broken. Ho spent half his days wandering about, repeating constantly to his friends and to himself, “Coleridge" is dead! Coleridge is dejul! ” A broken old man, he walked aimlessly about the Christ’s Hospital, looking for the companion of his lifetime. However, relief from his pain was not long in coming, for in six months he, too, passed away and journeyed heavenwards to rejoin his great companion. A PRINCE OF DOGS The more I see of some men the better I like my dog.—Old saying. Prince, the dog hero of Niagara, who rescued another dog from going over the Falls last February, might have lived for many a long day to wag a responsive tail at his admirers but for an act of human carelessness. The Juggernaut is no respecter of dogs, even if they are heroes, and the other day this Belgian shepherd dog,! fanfous throughout Canada, was knocked down and killed by a reckless motorist, who refused to stop. We wonder what the cowardly driver' would have done if lie had been in Prince’s place when the dog Prince rescued was making for the Falls.. Prince and three canine friends wore enjoying a game on the ice when the ice broke away from the shore. Three of the dogs were able to scamper to safety, but the fourth was left on a cake. of ice howling with terror, and floating straight for destruction. Prince leaped into the river, grasped hold of the other dog by the scruff of the neck, and pulled it to safety.

A TRUE DOG STORY Not long ago an Englishman and his wife were driving their car along a very narrow road cut in the side of a mountain in France. Suddenly something went wrong with the steering gear, and the car swung to one side. Down the side of the mountain it fell. But some way down the mountainside the car caught against a tree, and there it hung. Neither of the travellers could get out, and, indeed, they dared not, for they were afraid of sending the car plunging further down the mountain. What was to be done? How could they get help? In the car was a big Alsatian dog. He' saw that his master and mistress were in danger, and he made up his mind to get help. One of the windows was broken, and the dog climbed out. Up the steep mountain-side he rushed, barking loudly. Soon he came to the road on which the car had been travelling before it fell down the ravine. There was no one there. The excited animal did not know what to do. He rah up the road to find someone, and then ran back again to where he could see the fallen car. Then down the road he ran and back again. Still no one came. The dog tore up the road once more, and this time he saw a car coming. He barked madly, and tore backwards and forwards, trying his hardest to show the people in the car that he wanted help. The driver wondered what was the matter with the dog. He stopped and looked out. He could see nothing but the excited animal running backwards and forwards. “Let us get out and see what is wrong with this dog,” said the driver to his companion. So they opened the door and jumped down to the road. The dog barked and ran in front of them, looking back to see if they were following. He took the two men to the , spot where the car had left the road and fallen down the mountainside. The men looked and saw, to their great surprise and horror, a car caught by a tree a long way down. Then they knew why the dog wanted them. Quickly they climbed down to the car, and saw the man and woman inside. Carefully they helped them out, and took them up to the road again, safe and sound. The dog went almost mad with delight when he saw that his master and mistress were safe. He did not know why such a fuss was made of him—all he wanted to do was to make a fuss of them! Don’t you think he deserves a medal? OLD SAM IS SAFE • All’s well that ends well. Old Sam, the war horse, is to end his days in peace.. But if, in the comfort of the stable at Pwllheli, he could understand what a narrow shave he had had of being sold to Belgium for slaughter, he might give a neigh of protest at men’s ingratitude. . When he came back from doing his bit in a war that was none of his business the Corporation of Pwllheli, in a hot burst of enthusiasm, bought the injured warrior for £47. He was a worthy memento of the Great War. The hot fit passed, and was succeeded recently .by a cold fit of economy in which the Town Council, in the face of the merciful recommendation of its Sanitary Committee that the old horse should be pensioned off and cared for, decided to sell him to Belgium for £4. They would thus save the money for his keep, and make £4 into the bargain. The fact that Old Sam was lame, and would probably be worked while he could stand before being led to the slaughter, ■ did not weigh with them against this tempting offer. But the people of Pwllheli, . more merciful than their council, raised a storm of protest, and when the news was noised abroad letters from everywhere poured in on the mayor. Mr R. B, Cunningham Grahame sent a subscription to the fund which the townspeople were raising, remarking with grim irony that at the. present rate of exchange £4 seemed to be the equivalent of the thirty pieces of silver obtained at another historic sale. The Duchess of Portland offered Sam a home. Finally the mayor, in whose absence the council had reached’ their decision, took the matter in hand, and Sam will end his days'in the land that bred him. Yet, while all ends well, we cannot but marvel that such an act of cruel ingratitude should have been meditated, and reflect how necessary it is in this world to be vigilant in well-doing. HONEYCOMB I wonder how many of us know what honeycomb is and how it is formed! Of course, it is made of beeswax, some of you say; but that does not help us very much. In the first place, where do the bees get the wax, and, secondly, how do they build it into the wonderful structure which we call honeycomb? As most boys and girls know, each hive has both workers and drones, in addition to the queen. Now the workers are of two sorts, large and small, and it is the former which possess the power of ’wax-making. If you take up a dead worker bee and examine its underside withi a magnifying glass, you will see half a doz’en little pockets, three on each side; and it is in these that the wax is formed. When wax-making is to be carried out the worker bees—the large ones, that is—make their way to the honey pots, affd they eat as much nectar or money from the flowers, as they can consume; then they hang themselves in festoons from the roof of the hive, each bee gripping firmly the feet of the one in front of her; The living loops cross and recross, making a compact cluster, which remains perfectly still for a day and a night. Then one by one the creatures detach themselves from the mass, and go off to the place where building ,is to be carried out. Now, at one of the knee joints of the hind leg each worker has a kind of pair of pincers; and with these she draws out one by one the little plates of wax which have been formed in the pocket during the twenty-four hours’ rest in the warm of the. cluster. Each little wax plate she bites into tiny fragments which she chews and mixes with saliva to form a new and plastic material. This she adds to the dump of prepared wax which is collected on the scene of action. Her work is now done for the moment, and the small workers commence their task. They are the- waxbuilders, and, seizing the solid stuff, they construct the foundation of the two sets of six-sided cells which, placed back, to back, make up a section of comb. Then they build up the walls with the thin plates of wax—each no more than a - hundred 'and eightieth part of an inch in thickness—altering the size of the cell acordingly as it is destined to contain young workers or young drones. When we consider that the cells are constructed absolutely accurately both in regard to dimensions and angles, and that each single cell is connected with and forms a part of nine other cells, we are amazed at the ingenuity of such tiny creatures.

A POPULAR TOY OF GREAT VALUE Four centuries before Christ’ there was invented in a far-off land of China a wonderful little appliance, which, though heavier than air, could yet remain afloat at some considerable height from the ground. This was the kite; a toy which has served to amuse millions and millions of boys and girls down the age ; and still does amuso them in practically every part of the world. East 'and west, north and south, wherever we find children we shall be almost certain to see this little flying machine soaring gaily at the end, of its long string.’ But the' kite has been something more than a toy, and has interested folk other than children. Some of our wisest scientists have, seen much to occupy their attention in the kite; and, without doubt, this simple little plaything has led men on to the discovery of yet more wonderful things. In fact, one might almost certainly say that, had there been no kite there would have been no aeroplane. Perhaps it has proved itself most valuable in assisting men to study the weather conditions. Folk, have always liked to try and foretell the kind of weather; but, of course, for centuries they had to be content with just odd little things—the look of the clouds, the behaviour of birds and beasts, and so on—to give them their ideas. Then one day it occurred to someone that, if by some means or other they could find out what it was like in the upper regions of the atmosphere, how hot it was, and so on, they might-have more to go on for their propnecies. So in the year 1749 the first kite was sent up to take its share in meteorological observation, as it is called. It was sent up from Glasgow and carried a thermometer. From that time onwards kites steadily proved themselves invaluable for weather study; and kiteflying stations were set up. in various parts of Europe and America. It was found that the form of kite known as the box kite (boys will understand readily enough what is meant) was the most reliable; and this in time was fitted with a remarkable little instrument called a meteorograph. Inside a, little aluminium box were three scientific instruments—a barometer, a thermometer, and a hygrometer. These respectively measured the pressure of the atmosphere, the temperature, and the degree of moisture in the air; and, wonderful to relate, these three instruments actually wrote down their own measurements. To each of them was attached a thin arm, fitted at the end with a tiny pen; and these three pens traced three lines on a cylinder which was kept revolving slowly by clock-work. In this way those down on the ground could tell' just what had happened in the upper air during the time the kite had been afloat. It was a remarkable little invention, and for years ,it gave our scientists invaluable information. These.weather chart kites were quite big. affairs, sometimes as much as ten or twelve feet high, and, as in their flight they sometimes encountered tremendous gales of wind, they were well made and attached to very strong wire. On occasions the kites went as high as four miles up into the atmosphere, so you can guess that a tremendous length of wire was needed—over six miles, in fact, . This wire, made of thin steel, was like piano wire, and was wound on and off a large drum, which was made to revolve by a small steam engine. Less than twenty years ago some of the highest officials of our War Department found an interest in the kite. Some of them thought that if a kite could be invented, sufficiently strong and reliable to carry a man up into the air, the information obtained by such an observer from such a height would be very valuable in war time; and so many experiments were carried out, and at last a successful man-lifting kite was invented, one possessing vertical and horizontal rudders so that the passenger could control the kite while in the air. Soon after another kite was constructed with a small motor to drive it against the wind. Naturally the coming of the aeroplane shortly afterwards did- away with the necessity for man-lifting kites; but wo must not forget how this one-time child’s toy was for years a great help to scientists. THESE TWO Among men, as among beasts, what is there lovelier than friendship? Sultan has passed his twenty-second year, which makes him, as dogs go, a second. Methuselah. He is a mongrel of mongrels, large, black haired, unwieldy, and very plain, but he has a heart of gold and the most scrupulous conscience a dog ever had. Ahhough racked by rheumatism he insists on accompanying the various members of the family on their walks, and limps- to the gate, barking furiously, whenever he hears a stranger approaching. He is a widower, for his wife died twelve months ago, hue he has a friend, | Bonifacia is young; glossy, and snowy-plumed, the prettiest little duck imaginable. She was won by one of the junior members of > the family at a ring-throwing competition, and was promptly christened Boniface, under the impression that she was a he. When, some months later, she started, laying eggs, the situation had naturally to bo revised, and Boniface was changed to Bonifacia. , While Sultan’s wife Deborah lived* Bonifacia kept herself to herself, 'and seemed rather lonely and mepy, but no sooner had Deborah departed this lice than she attached herself to the old dog, and was observed to follow him, wherever he went. * At first he seemed rather annoyed by her importunities, especially when, having watched him stretch himself out for a comfortable snooze, shp calmly settled down by his side and Started a voluble conversation. But after a while he got used to her company, and now she is as necessary to him as he to her. They have all their meals together. When dinner time approaches Bonifacia waddles round to the kitchen window and loudly demands two dinners; and when dinner is brought out they eat it from the same plat© in perfect harmony and friendliness. When Sultan |limps to the gate, barking to defend the homestead from, intruders Bonifacia rushes after him and adds her voice to the hullabaloo. They even sleep together in Sultan’s kennel, and neither will retire for the night without the other. Bonifacia’s bedtime comes rather sooner than Sultan’s, and it may happen that he is still engaged his human friends when she is Being shooed off to the kennel. Then she will resolutely march up to the terrace and loudly demand that he comes with her; and he will cast one regretful glance at. the remains of the tea table; and resignedly trot off in her wake. Anyone looking into the kennel ten minutes later will see Sultan lying peacefully on. his side, and Bonifacia nestling against his breast, her bill embedded in his shaggy fur, both of them as happy as kings.

TORTOISE DOINGS A writer in a natural history magazine tells some interesting facts about tortoises, especially one brought from Morocco, which he had ten years. This tortoise was of active habits, and did not seem to want a winter sleep. Still, he liked to have some quiet repose by the fireside when possible. He would lie close to the cat in front of the fire, puss not minding her odd companion, though his moving about: annoyed her. When restless the tortoise tried to burrow into her fur, more than once' succeeding in clambering upon her back. This was more than puss could bear, and, getting up with a jerk, she would throw. the tortoise over; he usually fell on his back, throwing his legs in the air and appearing a very helpless and comical object. A younger cat brought to the house was puzzled by the tortoise. She sat and watched him, and if he put out his head she gave it a sharp pat, which made it vanish, to her great astonishment. When a young terrier was introduced to the tortoise he sat watching it, with fore-legs extended and hind legs doubled up, all ready to spring. After a time the terrier got up and powed the seemingly lifeless creature. One day this dog was caught in the act of shaking the tortoise vigorously by one leg, as if he, were trying to make the head appear. Ho had. to be corrected, and soon the two lived together in quite a friendly way.' >• ' w If a tortoise -kills insects like worms or slugs it is also capable' of doing mis-‘ chief in a garden. They have a'fancy for nice tender seedlings, and this' Moroccan tortoise was once caught in the very act of revelling in a, bed of young stocks; . little sunflower! plants also pleased him, and tender; lettuces.. Nor did he reject fruit; strawberries being his specialty, though; slices of : apple, banana, tomato, arid orance also proved acceptable. Green gooseberries he liked; but their hardness arid roundness were a trouble to him. Having made a fairly good dinner, he would retire on a summer afternoon to a hole, he made between a paling arid a shrub. One winter this tortoise spent in p. basket under the kitchen table, though he did not sleep very soundly, for if there was a larger fire than usual he, put out his head, thinking perhaps that, summer had returned, ( ■ During the winter months it is a good thing to give a tortoise a little warm milk as a restorative. ■

THE HONOUR SQUARE

Mavis Ferguson, 19 Passmore crescent, Maori Hill,' is < awarded five marks for an interesting letter. Mary Walsh, 27 Fitzroy street, Cavershani, is awarded five marks for neat writing.