BIG BROTHER BILL and the BAIRNS

Evening Star, Issue 22514, 5 December 1936, Page 8

BIG BROTHER BILL and the BAIRNS

NOT FOR OURSELVES ALONE Winners of competitions published on Saturday, November 28, are as follow:—Under 10: Wynne Benton, 69 Norfolk street, St. Clair, Dunedin, S.W.I (hornbill). Over 10: Francis Gibbon, 44 Cronley street. Dunedin, S.W.I (fir, beech, palm, elm). Congratulation&i Prizes will be posted. THE COMPETITIONS This week the under-tens are asked to help the squirrel out of his difficulty, and the over-tens have an interesting little puzzle on the island. Send your answers to Big Brother Bill, care of ‘ Evening Star,’ Stuart street, Dunedin, 0.1. Be sure to mark the envelopes “ Competition.” THE SQUIRREL’S DIFFICULTY. (Under 10 years. Prize, Is.) As the picture shows, the squirrel is in great trouble. At the beginning he hid stores of nuts for winter, and because he is such an absent-minded l chap marked each place' with a label. But there, were other squirrels who might rifle his stores, so he mixed all the letters on each label. But, being absent-minded and forgetful, he has forgotten exactly which is which; neither can he remember what the mixed letters mean. The policeman, Mr Bulldog, will not let him touch them until he can prove they belong to him by remembering what is under each label. See whether you can help the squirrel by putting the letters in their proper place. You- will then have six kinds of nuts.

THE TROUBLE ON THE ISLAND. (Over 10 years. Prize, Is 6d.) Five quarrelsome families once lived oil the same island, each family with a boat-landing of its own. Here is a map of the island with each boat-landing ■marked with, the letter of the house to which it belongs. Because these people were so silly as to be always disagreeable they had to lay the paths to their boat-landings in such a way that no path crossed) another at any point. Draw the paths that were made by the islanders. No path must cross another, no path must leave the island, and each path must leave a house and end at the house’s boat-landing.

THE POSTIE'S BAB 40 Bay View road, South Dunedin, S.l, November 29, 1936. Dear Big Brother Bill,—Thank you very much for publishing my last letter. The name and address of the lady who will (Jbtain a pen friend for writers is Miss Florence E. Myers, Box 159, ■Luseland, Saskatchewan, Canada. Last Saturduv there was a hike for ■ Girl :Gpdes'-prq>aring for first class

badges, and I went as a helper for one of the girls doing this test. We left town at midday, and, along with several other Guides from our company, travelled on the Rattray street cable car to the terminus. Do you like going down that steep hill before you reach the terminus, Big Brother Bill? I do not. We walked to Fraser’s Gully. On the way we had a peep at the baths there. When we arrived at the gully we located the other Guides from different companies. Hazel, my leader, and Lorna, another leader, started to turf a fireplace, while -the helpers collected wood. We had a hard time collecting this, as it was either wet or as green as grass. Lorna managed to get her fire going, and soon had sausages and chops cooking; but Hazel, Dorothy,. and I could only get a flickering flame. Time after time we tried to get it going, but our efforts were in vain. In our struggles Hazel accidentally sat on, an uncooked sausage. In the end we decided not to bother about anything cooked and started to eat the sandwiches we had brought with us. We had nearly finished our lunch when a young lady came running down to us, exclaiming that her friend had hurt her ankle and was unable to walk. We all rushed up, regardless of our hunger. Lorna tore off her tie and told me to wet it. When we reached the spot the girl was holding her ankle and rocking to and fro. The two leaders hastily tied up the ankle with the tie. As soon as the leaders had made the patient comfortable the puzzle was how to get her down. To our amazement, we were then told that the accident was a fake. My, but we looked stupid! However, we were soon consoled when we were informed that it was done to test us in a real emergency. We then went hack to our little camp and_ busied ourselves tidying up and putting the

turf back into the hole we had made for the fire. Here a number of minor accidents occurred. Lorna losing her knife and her badge, besides getting her tie ruined with iodine. After that we went down to the big field where the ,rest of the Guides had assembled. We discussed all the wrong points in the. cooking we had done. A number of Guides then went off to lay a trail which was to be followed by several others. While the trailers were away the Guides remaining behind played games until the trailers returned. _We were all allowed to follow our desires. Some girls went farther up the gully and others returned home. The members of our party journeyed on for half

a mile or so. Have you ever been to Fraser’s Gully, Big Brother Bill? I thought it a very charming spot. On our way up Hazel and Lorna thought they would like to see how cold the water was. Shoes and all went in, and we others laughed when we saw the dripping feet pulled out of the water. We decided it was time to return. On the way back the sun shone and a picture of the group was taken. When we returned to town we visited the Queen’s Gardens and saw where the giijps were buried. The week before, the

Guides held a dog show at our captain’s home in Caversham. Well, Brother Bill, you will be tired reading this long letter, so I will close, with love to the aunts and yourself.—From one of the bairns, Joyce Donaldson. [I thank you, Joyce Donaldson, for your interesting letter. Your name is on the Honour Post, and you are the winner of this week’s best letter prize. It will be posted to you. Brother Bill is sure that the bairns will enjoy reading the account of your trip to Fraser’s Gully. Guiding is serious business, of course, because it makes girls so capable in the doing of many useful things. But what fun you can mix with serious business sometimes 1 The fake accident was an excellent idea, because now you know exactly how you would act if a real one came along. Your picnic was both happy and useful. Write again soon.] 38 Evans street, Opoho, N.E.T. November 29, 1936. Dear Big Brother Bill, —I wrote to you some time ago and asked to join your family. May I ? I also sent in the competition, but I think I was too late. However, I am entering for November 28 competition, and hope to be successful. I am 11 years of age, and I am in Standard V. at the Northeast Valley School. We_ have justfinished our term examinations. Arc you going away for Christmas? We are not, but we hope to go next year. I often listen to your children’s hour, and I enjoy them very much.—l remain, Rona Williams. [Thank you for your letter, Rona Williams. Brother Bill is glad to welcome you to the family. Your name is on the Honour Post for neat writing. No, Brother Bill will not be away at Christmas, He usually waits until Easter before taking a real holiday. But he hopes to he happy at home, just as does Rona AVilliams. Write again soon.] Mount Cargill, Dunedin. Dear Big Brother Bill, —What a rainy day it is to-day! There is no sun, no birds are singing their lovely, sweet songs, and nobody is dressed! in light, cool clothes. Everybody has gumboots, raincoats, rain hats, and umbrellas. To-day there are heavy rains, mists, wind, and light showers. The hedges and trees are blowing lightly about, the sky is a dark grey colour, and one cannot see the moon. People have thick jerseys on, thick warm coats, and good woollen stockings. To-day is far different from yesterday, when the sun was shining brightly, the birds were singing sweetly, the flowers put on their best clothes, and everybody puts on light clothes. To-day makes me shiver when I think of it. I cannot go out to play, and if I go outside in my slippers I am sure to get my feet wet. I do not like rainy days. We are having our examinations now, and I hope I pass into Standard V. I will close now.—l remain, yours truly, Olive Ross.

[Thank you for your letter, Olive Ross. Your letter sounds quite cheerless, Olive, but rainy days do make one feel that way. But they are beautiful in their own way, and necessary, too. _ It would be a sad world without rain and mist to make grass green and food grow in the fields. Did you ever think, Olive, that if the days were all sunshine we should weary of them very quickly? Once Brother Bill lived in a place where there was only one shower of rain in 13 months. It was a terrible place, dry, dusty, and everybody shrivelled with the heat. Of course, a cold rainy day makes you appreciate a warm sunny one when it comes. So there are two ways of looking at bad weather, as in everything else. Write again soon. Brother Bill hopes that you were successful in your examinations.] 17 M'Bride street, Dunedin S.l, November 28, 1936. Dear Big Brother Bill,—May I join your happily family of bairns? I am eight years of age, and am in Standard I. at the Kensington School. I am entering for the under-ten competition. When I went for my Christmas holidays to Mokoreta Valley I had such a lot of fun. I had to get the cow*, and feed the hens, and get the eggs, and feed the calves, and I had rides on the horse. I will close now.—Yours truly, Thelma Sexton. [Thank you for your letter, Thelma Sexton. You are very welcome to the family. Will you be going to Mokoreta Valley this Christmas, too? Brother Bill hopes that you will have a lot of fun whatever happens. Your letter was printed very neatly for an eight-year-old bairn. Write again soon.] Clinton, South Otago. Dear Big Brother Bill, —I saw in Saturday night’s ‘ Star ’ that you are giving a prize to the child who has the best letter. Well, I am going to tell you about cats, which I think might interest the children. Many people prefer cats to dogs, and say that they are, infinitely more intelligent and make better companions. There is certainly something more primitive about a cat. It comes when it wills, and when it is bored with one it regards one with inscrutable eyes, from which the jungle light still shines. But, however one feels about cats, one cannot resist kittens, for they are so delightfully soft and helpless. As for a kitten arriving in a basket, it is one of the most (.'harming presents i know. I am afraid a* kitten is often treated with as much ignorance as a puppy- Their owners seem to think that all a kitten needs is a saucerful of milk and later on some fish, if they do not believe, as I am informed quite solemnly, that cats only need mice. Well, one might as well say that all a person needs is a slice of dry, burnt bread. It is pathetic to see the little five-weeks’ old things which are often offered for sale. When a kitten is born it should have four meals a day. All young things need their mother's care till they are old enough to look after themselves. The majority of peop^.

keep an ordinary tabby cat, and, of course, they are delightful as pets, as the prize winning varieties, but I sometimes wonder why they do not get a good cat, as well-bred kittens are a definite source of income in a small way. Well, love to all the bairns and yourself.—l am, yours truly, Ettie Hansen. [Thank you for your letter, Ettie Hansen. Brother Bill is sure that you know something about keeping cats, and the bairns will think so, too. You will not be angry with him if he says that a dog is his preference. Your letter explains the reason. Cats are usually so independent in the way they regard you, and very aristocratic in their manners. A dog soon becomes a good pal, but a cat is never more than a rather distant acquaintance. The sort of acquaintance who sometimes remembers to speak to you, but most times regards you as not there at all. Kittens are delightful, as you say, but the pity is that they grow into cats. Does that .sound like high treason? You must write again and say.] 432 George Street, Dunedin, N. 1., October 31, 1936. Dear Big Brother Bill, —I am already a member of your big family,_ but it is a long time since I have written to vou. I am 14 years old, and in Form 111. a.l. at Otago Girls’ High School. I am very proud of my school because it was the first girls’ high school in New Zealand. I have two important hobbies—stamp collecting, and writing to pen pals. I have pen pals in England Australia, and New Zealand. I also collect autographed photographs of famous film stars. I have agrey-and-white Petsian cat, and, although I have had him for well over six months, I have not succeeded in naming him yet. Could I ]om the 4YA Stamp Ciub please, as 1 am very interested in stamps? I Went to the fishing marine station at Labour weekend and I saw many interesting things down there. In a tank there are two octopuses, and they live on the crabs round the shore. A light » hung over the jetty at night, and this light attracts the fish around, and they arc then caught in a big net Garfish and mullet are very plentiful, and sometimes a red cod is caught. Flounders are placed on different coloured pieces of linoleum, and it is wonderful to see them change colour, I could tell you lots more but I think I shall leave the rest for another letter. With best love to all the aunts .and uncles and yourself,—l am, a loving bairn, Amsiie E. Howes. [Thank yon for your letter, Ainslie Howes. Brother Bill was glad to receive it. You must write a long letter and tel the family more about the Marine Station. They will certainly be most interested. You are welcome to the Stamp Club. . Brother. Bill agrees with you that it is a most interesting hobby. Quite frequently Brother Bill receives letters asking for pen friends ” in other countries. Suppose you write a letter explaining what must be done to obtain them. Write again soon.]

A PLAGE FOR BIRO LOVERS The Pledge.—“ I promise to care for all wild birds, especially New Zealand native birds, to feed them in winter, and to protect them at aill times. I promise also to protect our native trees and bush, and at no time to assist in their damage or destruction, since they are the natural home of our native birds.

If you wish to join the Bird Club it is necessary to send Is in stamps or postal note, and a badge and l bird book will be posted to you. Address your letter to Big Brother Bill, care of ‘ Evening Star,’ Stuart street, Dunedin, C.l. Be sure to mark your envelope “ Bird Club.” SUNDOWN. The day descends, and I behold The beauty of gulls’ wings over mo. The wild light spreads, the wind grows cold And slants the headland’s lonely tree. In clouds of amethyst and gold, The evening lies npdh the sea ; On salty wind, the sea-birds fold Their slow-cut arcs in ecstasy.

A FRIEND OF WILD CREATURES. One of the first acts denoting the arousing of a desire to sympathise with wild creatures, is to cage birds or animals. That is the main idea which occurs to the novice bird-lover. This person therefore captures or buys a wild creature, and perhaps without realising the cruelty of his act, condemns it to life imprisonment, denying it all of those joys which make a wild creature’s life worth living. The novice has still to learn that there is no need to use cages, but that with the aid of that indescribable sympathy and understanding possessed by some nature lovers, co-called wild creatures can be tamed without robbing them of their freedom for one moment.

The following Canadian story by W. J. Banks, culled from ' United Empire,’ the journal of the Royal Empire Society, tells how a, half-breed Indian, “ Grey Owl,” tamed wild beavers, some of the most timid yet intelligent of wild creatures:— Nearly a half-century ago Grey Owl was born on the western plains. His mother, was a full-blooded Apache;.his father, Scots frontiersman who, tired of the constant Indian wars that had engaged him as a Government scout, had left that calling to join the famous Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show.

So the blood of two proud and fighting peoples flows in the veins of the man who is to-day one of the most outstanding wild-game conservationists. Grey Owl has travelled a varied and a romantic road since he left the tepees of the war-like Apaches, still far from reconciled to the loss of their last hunting grounds. It has brought'him, at last, to contentment in a log cabin in Northern Saskatchewan, where he lives in closest communion with his little brothers of the stream and woodland.

Following his father’s death. Grey Owl, as a youth, joined the Wild West show and accompanied it to Europe. But the lad’s imagination had always been stirred by tales of his father’s early days in Northern Canada, and it was the Cohalt silver rush of 1905 that served as the immediate cause of his crossing the sea again. As guide, hunter, and trapper be spent eight years as an adopted member of the Ojibway tribe of Northern Ontario. Serving as a sniper with the Canadian forces in France, lie was twice wounded, and subsequently returned to the trap lines. For some years there had been close restriction on the taking ol beaver pelts, and those busy builders of the northern streams had been making a come-back throughout a large area. But the lifting of the long “closed season ” resulted in shameful slaughter. Greed for easy money brought a borde of trappers, with dynamite and poisoned bait, to threaten Canada’s national animal with extinction and decimate the numbers of other woodland dwellers.

As Grey Owl wandered farther and farther afield in search of unspoiled hunting grounds, the gravity of tho situation began to dawn upon him. It did not take him long to decide to forsake the ranks of the destroyers and start a one-man movement of conservation. What had started out as a hunting journey ended in a search for jl small colony of beavers which he could protect, allow to multiply, and study in their daily life so that data might be gathered to help in the fight which he saw must be waged at once to save the beaver people from total extinction.

(To be continued.)

A WINDMILL WITH A MOVING COWBOY FIGURE Here is a jolly little windmill, for which you do not need other materials than a little three-ply, two thin pieces of wood, a length of bamboo stick, a remnant of thin linoleum, and a little wire. A little handiness is required besides, but I take it for granted that most of you are handy. The cowboy must be drawn in full size on a piece of three-ply; it will be much easier to draw him if you first draw squares in proportion to the model given here. Cut double forelegs and hindlegs, and

cut out the little oval marked X in thin linoleum; the latter is the brim of the cowboy’s hat, which we shall put on later. On having cut out tbe figure, neatly with a fretsaw, finish it oft with sandpaper, and attach the horse’s legs to its body by small lengths of wire inserted in the boles bored in the wood at the places marked with black spots in the drawing. Then colour the cowboy brightly and put a lasso and reins made of copper wire in his hands. It is hardly necessary to say that the horse’s legs must move freely. The windmill is made from a piece of thin linoleum, the length of tbe sides being 15in if the figure is made in the dimensions indicated here. Make holes in each corner and one in the middle,

and slit from the corners towards the middle, as shown in figure I. Mount tho mill on a round stick—o.g., a piece of bamboo—about Isin long and provided with a wire cross about 4iu from one end (see figure II.). Press the hooks at the ends of the cross into the back of the wings until they are firmly fixed. Double over the corners with the holes and fasten them by a screw in one of the sticks. If this has been done properly the wings will be shaped like those in the illustration. As you can see, the mill is mounted on two screw eyes screwed in the holder. Then place the figure on the horizontal board, pressing the two tendons on the horse’s forelegs into two slots mads in the board. A little glue in

the slots will fix the legs more firmly. Attach a little crank made of galvanised wire to the other end of the stick, and connect it to the horse’s hindlegs in the manner depicted in figure 111. Note the small metal tubes spacing the legs correctly; they are made from thin tin which can he hammered into shape around the ware. When all this is done, the mill is ready to be fixed to a post in the garden. The design of the wings will cause the mill to spin round merrily, no matter from what quarter the wind is coming. Attach a little weight to a length of thin copper wire tied to the horse’s head, and apply some vaseline to the moving parts, then you will see I how your cowboy can gallop.

SIXPENCE AND A SOUP-PLATE

The notices written on hoards attached to palm trees declaring islands of the Phoenix Group in the South Pacific to be the property of our King are laughably primitive in character, and recall the title-deeds to Empire set up'in the great days when men in strange seas used to stumble on new lands by accident. Two of the most remarkable were written while Shakespeare was alive, one in the Arctic, the other claiming Australia, both by gallant Dutchmen. The first was the Dutch equivalent of a sixpence nailed up by William Barents, a coin showing the head of his king, for whom he claimed Nova Zembla, where he had been frozen in for the winter with the first white crew_ to survive such a period in the Arctic. He was seeking an Arctic way to China, and, sailing 1,700 miles in his tiny ship, tried 81 directions, during which he saw Spitzbergen—and ignored it in the belief that it was part of

Gi’eenland. He was icebound at the Nova Zembla of his discovery> and, though it contains over 35,000 square miles, thought it but 850. When spring came in 1597 he nailed up his sixpence, sailed for home, and died as galmntly as he had lived, in the open boat to which the wreck of his ship had forced him. His hut, his diary, and all the belongings be had left were found nearly three centuries later. The Dutch claim to Australia was even quainter than that of Barents in the Arctic. • It was set up by Dirk Hartog, another Dutch sea rover, in the year Shakespeare died, on the west coast of the island continent at a spot still called after him, an island close by Shark’s Bay, famous as the scene or the earlier exploration by our own William Dampier. Dirk had to continue bis travels, but he was minded to claim the land he had seen for his native Holland; so, there being nothing better available, he had recourse to his tin soup plate. On this he scratched this message; “On the 25th of October, 1616, arrived here in the ship Eendraght of

Amsterdam; the first merchant, Giles Mibais Luyck; Captain Dirk Hartog, of Amsterdam; under-nierchant, Jan Stoyn; upper steersman, Pieter Dockes, from Bil. Ao. 1616." It was Australia's very first document. Toward the close of the sevententh century another Dutch captain, named Vleeming, arrived, threw down Dirk's post with its title deed, and set up one bearing his own name. The year before Trafalgar a French* man, Captain Hamelin, came on the scene, found Dirk's soup plate proclamation in the sand where it had fallen, and carried it back to Europe, where, transferred by whose hand we know not, it was found in. 1902 among the treasures of the Amsterdam. Museum, brought to light after an age of neglect. There it is now, still bright and readable, in a place of honour. Will the manuscript proclamations set up to-day in the Phoenix Islands have as long and strange a history, we wonder. A MODERN BURGLAR ALARM The light cell is a small, unimposing apparatus, but it forms the basis of many technical inventions of to-day. The most important part of it is a substance called "selenium," which hag the peculiar property of varying its resistance to an electric current according to the intensity of the light shining upon it. It reacts to ultra-violet rays—which are invisible to the human eye—in just the same way, and this property has been utilised in designing the modern alarms for the protect tion of offices, banks, and private residences against unwelcome nocturnal guests. The illustration shows the working of such an appliance. Thai

source of light A is arranged so only; a ray of ultra-violet light is emitted,' which is focussed on the selenium cell B. , Consequently _ an invisible ray, passes across the window. Now, if this ray is broken by an intruder the alarm he'll will ring, and if the 'alarm is in direct communication with, the police station the intruder is very likely to be caught red-handed.