BIG BROTHER BILL and the BAIRNS

Evening Star, Issue 23527, 16 March 1940, Page 6

BIG BROTHER BILL and the BAIRNS

LIKE THE SUNDIAL. I RECORD ONLY THE SUNNY HOURS THE POSTIE'S BAG 118 Victoria road, St. Kilda. Dear Big Brother Bill,—As it is a long fimn since I have written to you 1 thought I would do so to-day. We went xm to Wellington in the holidays, and had a very nice time. We thought the Exhibition was lovely. I climbed to the top of the tower, and the view from there was wonderful. We enjoyed walking through the courts, and it would be impossible to see everything iq on© visit* Of course, I enjoyed the outside attractions. They were very numerous and at times very noisy. I went on the scenic railway once, and the Crazy House was very good, so I went in it twice. Well, Big Brother Bill, I must close, now, with love from your bairn, Pat Harris. [Thank you for your letter, Pat Harris. Your name is _on the Honour Post, and you. are winner of the best letter prize. ■ You appear to have had a good time'at the Exhibition, which is what you went,' up to do, of course. Brother Bill has heard about that,marvellous view from the tower. You must write and tell us all what your experience of the Crazy House was like; Write again soon.] ■2O Cooper street, Mornington. Dear, .Big Brother Bill, —This is the first time I have written to you, and I to join your happy bairns. I go to the High'Street School, and like itV.yery, much. I have a little kitten, Which I call Charlie. ' It has a

THE COMPETITION

The-winner of the competition published>3 February ■2, was Neville Booth, Athol Place; Ravens bourne. Congratulations. Prize will be posted. The names of the four animals are to be found among the letters given in

very uncommon grey fur. I also have a little ginger dog, which is a _ very good watchdog. We have a crib at Lower Portobello, where I always spend my holidays. At the back of our crib there is a farm where they keep cows and sheep. Last time 1 was down there,'there was a little pet lamb which had to he fed with a bottle. It looked •o funny butting the bottle and frisking its tail. I am in Standard 11. at school.—l remain, Reina Poulter. [Thank you for your letter, Reina Poulter. Your name is on the Honour Post for neat writing. Charlie and .Ginger, sound a pair of good pets. Charlie may be a Chinese cat; they have luncommon mole-coloured fur. You are a very lucky girl to have a crib at Lower Portobello, and must spend a good many happy hours there. The next-door farm wfll make it all the more interesting, too. a Also,, the more convenient, it will not be far to get the morning’s’milk. Write again soon.]

Oaraaru. Dear Big Brother Bill, —1 read ypur colums each Saturday, and think they are quite interesting. I am writing to ask if you think a cat could make friends with a mouse? Some animals do make friends with one another, I have read about it. But I do not think a cat would be friendly with a mouse, do : you? 1 have been to the Exhibition-at Wellington, and was very tired walking round the different places. I had a ride on the little motor cars, and a good time in the Amusement Park, The crazy railway is very frightening, but nobody seems to have had ah accident, which "is a good thing. Tt rained terribly hard while I was in Wellington.—Your loving bairn, Walter Crawshaw.

■ [Thank you for your letter, Walter Crawshaw. It is not very likely that a cat would make friends with a mouse became the mouse would be too wise to allow it. .That kind of friendship would put too big a strain on the smaller animal. There have been strange friendships < between animals strongly antagonistic to one another; but Brother Bill has not heard or read of one such as you mention. Brother Bill has not been to the Exhibition, nor is likely to go, but he has heard and read of it being a very big place. He does not wonder that you became tired. He thinks it a splendid thing there has been no accident; it would spoil all the fun in the amusement park. Write again soon. The next time you write, please write on one side of the paper only.] Alain North, road, N.E.V. Dear Big Brother Bill,—l have just come back from a long holiday with

the diagram. Take a pencil, and begin at a letter nearest the animal then, without going over the same letter twice, and following the lines, trace the exact name of each animal. Send your copy in with letter of entry. Send all letters to Big Brother Bill, care of ‘ Evening Star,’ Stuart street, Dunedin, C.l. Mark the envelope “ Competition.”

my uncle and aunt in Central Otago. I had chicken pox, and the doctor said I was to have a long rest before I .went back to school again. 1 was away during the fruit harvest, and had a jolly good time in the. orchard. There was also the haymaking and the sheep shearing. I am 10 years of age, arid this is the first time I have written to you. I should-like to join your family of bairns.—Your loving friend, Ettie Melrose.

[Thank you for your letter, Ettie Melrose. Welcome to the bairns’ club. Brother Bill is always glad to receive letters from the bairns—but he likes them to write on one side of the paper only. Chicken pox was a big price to pay for the holiday, but, reading your letter, it seems as though Ettie Melrose thought it was worth it. Brother Bill is glad to know you are better. Fruit .eating and farm life ought to have made a strong girl out of the sickly one that went away. Brother Bill hopes you will keep well all tMe coming winter. Write again soon.] LEAVE THE REST The world is wide In time and tide, And God is guide, Then—do not hurry. That man is blest Who does his best And leaves the rest, Then—do not worry. DAISY'S TANGLED TAIL From Australia comes this delightful tale of plain horse sense. Dick, a shaggy old horse, shared a paddock near the little town of Homebush with Daisy, a cow. Piled high near a fence was a heap of rusted hoop iron, and one day Daisy’s tail became caught in the tangled mass. The more she pulled the faster her tail seemed to be gripped. Poor Daisy became frantic as she swayed from side to side in an effort to get free—so frantic, in fact, that men who wished to help could not get near her. Then Dick, the horse, appeared on the scene. He, too. was willing to lend a hand, or, rather, a hoof. .

Cautiously he approached step by step, whinnying quietly as he came close to his friend. Gently but firmly Dick edged Daisy into a corner, placed a hoof on the hoop iron to hold it to the ground, and thus enabled Daisy to release her tail, slowly, perhaps painfully, but none the less with certainty.

THE BULL AND THE BLACKOUT QUEER TRUE STORY Ferdinand, a bull on a farm near Berkhamstead, is even better tempered and more peace loving than his namesake in fiction. He loves peace and hates war, or at least all that he knows of war, which is the blackout, and he has found a way to mitigate its nuisance. With Ferdinand and the cows all in their stalls, milking done, and food distributed, the cowman turns off the switch and leaves the animals in their blacked-out barn. But Ferdinand feels in his bones that it is not yet bedtime; he wants more light. Two or three times lately the farmer, going to the barn to seo that all was right, has found the light on. Each time the cowman assured him he had left the place in darkness when his work was done. Finally a watch was set to find the culprit, and this is what happened. Ferdinand put his hooves on his manger, reared himself up on his hind , legs, stretched his huge body and neck to their fullest extent, and stretched out his tongue. In this way he was just able to lick the electric switch on the wall over the door outside his pen and on came the light! THE MAJOR There once was a fiery major Who tossed with a bull for a wager, When he woke in the ward. There was none to applaud; Now that major I’ll wager is sager. THE TWO-WAY GOPHER To the United States Museum of Natural History have lately been added some rare pocket gophers, which are among the strangest of small creatures. They dwell in underground tunnels and have the valuable accomplishment of being able to run backward as fast as forward. Their hind legs are the same length as their front ones, and they have sensitive tails which serve them as well as if they had eyes in the back of their heads. When an intruder appears at the mouth of their underground tunnel the .gopher draws back as if pulled by a string. It is no wonder that they are so rarely seen. THE PEEWIT OF FERRYHILL One day in the spring a man at Ferryhill found a young peewit which seemed to have been deserted. Taking compassion on the poor creature, he picked it up, carried it to two friends, and asked if they would take care of it till it was able to fly. They said they would, and the half-starved and neglected bird was cared for. It grew up to be a fine bird, and the time came to set it free. They took it into a field, opened its cage, and let it fly away, expecting to see it no more. But that evening the peewit was back. The next morning it flew off to the green fields and the woods, and again it returned in the evening, anxious to be fussed over. So it has gone on ever since. The peewit has his liberty, flying where he pleases all day, but every night sleeping under the' roof of the people who have been kind to him.

ON THE BACK OF A LIVE ALLIGATOR

A well-known English explorer recounts an experience he had in Guiana. He had determined to capture an ..alligator alive, and when we know what an exceedingly dangerous and cunning creature it is, we must admit it was a very foolhardy thins to undertake. He had already been long waiting an opportunity when one of his native

servants woke him early one morning and breathlessly told him that at last an alligator had .been caught down by the river. The creature had bitten the hook on the end of the long rope which was firmly secured to an enormous tree trunk. The alligator was now lying a helpless prisoner but very dangerous to approach. The natives definitely wished to shoot it, but the Englishman’s plan was, as stated, to capture it alive. He told them to go to his canoe and fetch a small mast and a sail which he rolled round the mast. If the alii-

THE IVY CURTAIN

A GOOD-NIGHT STORY “ I’ll go and explore behind the ivy curtain,” said Doris. She was staying in the country with her aunt, whose house was in a lane which had been cut out of the side of a hill. In .some places you could see the bare rock, in others long trails of ivy grew so close together that they really did look something like a surtain. Doris parted the Jong stems with her hands and slipped behind them, letting her curtain fall into place again. “ Whyl There is a tiny path here,” she said. “ I will walk along it as far as I can.” She was not frightened at the dim light, or by the rustling noises which she made as she pushed her wav along. And how delighted she was when she came to a little cave. “ What a lovely place! ” she cried. “ I’ll hide here. No one will guess where 1 am.” She sat down on the sandy floor and parted the ivy before her, so that she could peep into the lane. Her mother and auntie had just turned the corner. “ I’ll jump out and surprise theml ” thought Doris. As they got nearer she heard her auntie say. “It must be a secret, of course. Doris must not guess that we are going to have a long day at the seaside to-morrow.” Before Doris had got over the surprise of hearing this they had walked past her hiding place. When they were out of sight she came out of the cave and did a little jig in the lane. “ Now I’ve got a secret, too,” she said. “ Mummie and auntie mustn’t guess that I know their secret.” So when Mother said, as soon as Doris went indoors, that bedtime was going to be early because country air

PAINT BOX BRUSHES can bo made from hen or goose feathers, (a) is an ordinary feather. Strip the feather with the exception of half an inch as shown in (b). Cut off the thick end of the at the dotted lines. Clean this piece with a needle or piece of iron wire Glue the rest of the stem well and draw the little piece down over the feather. You will then...have a nice little brush (c). '' l

made little folk tired, Doris smiled, but did not say that she knew she must go to bed early to be ready for a long day’s pleasure to-morrow. She did not tell about her cave, either. That must wait until another day. The clock struck six as Mother came to call her the next morning. “ Wake upl We are going to the seaside to-day, Doris! ” “ Hurrah!’’ cried Doris. “What a lovely surprise! Some people know how to keep secrets, don’t they?” ORIGINAL POETRY I’ve wished I were so many things, So many odd and funny things, But still I’m. glad that I’m just me, And that I’m only just turned three. I wish I were a hug-me-tight, I’d keep me warm all through the night. I wouldn’t care if clothes were thin And let the little breezes in. I’d wrap myself up ever so, And have such fun among the snow. I wouldn’t be the red wool jacket That came to Mummy in a packet. I’d rather be a hug-me-tight, It’s name is just so awf’ly right.

Kathleen M. Kerr, Dunedin

gator should start to attack he would jab the mast down its throat and in that way keep the animal at bay. Not until he had placed himself with this weapon between the animal and the natives, could the latter be persuaded to haul the alligator on land. It resisted furiously to begin with, but gradually as it became exhausted it grew quieter. The Englishman took advantage of this. Like lightning he jumped astride the savage creature’s back. Beside itself with rage and fear the alligator swished its mailed tail but the Englishman was sitting

far forward, out of its reach. He clutched hold of its legs and lifted them up over its back where he held on to them as if they were reins. His position was highly dangerous. If the rope should break the alligator would roll over in the river and its rider would soon fall a victim to the gigantic jaws. At length, when the animal’s strength was ebbing, the natives took courage and bound it securely. and the daring rider, in spite of all they predicted, came safely through an cscapadc*such as very few crocodile hunters have experienced,.