CHILDREN’S CORNER

Gisborne Times, Volume LV, Issue 6203, 7 October 1921, Page 3

CHILDREN’S CORNER

By Joyce

THE LATHING OF CAPTAIN COOK. One hundred and fifty-two years ago to-day, Captain Cook landed for the first time in New Zealand at the sppt on Kaiti Beach where stands the Cook Memorial. He was one of the greatest. explorers who ever lived, and it is a stirring thought that it was on our beach that he first stepped ashore. There is no need to repeat any of his life here, it is too well known to all New Zealand children. One historian, concluding his story, writes-. ' lew more noble and useful lives aie lecorded in the whole of British history than that of James vCook. He had all the best qualities which we like to think of as belonging to our race, lie was brave, just and merciful. He was honest and true; his word, once given, was sacred. He seldom failed m doing what he had undertaken,, and all through his life he followed the advice of the wise Solomon: Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might/'’ A large number of children were piesent at the ceremony yesterday after- i noon, when the citizens of Gisborne assembled at the Captain Cook Memorial to pay tribute to the memory of a good and great man. who was also a very gallant gentleman. HOW SLEEP THE BRAVE. How sleep the brave who sink to rest By all their country’s wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mold, She there shall dress a sweeter sod. Than Fancy’s feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung, By forms unseen their dirge is sung; Then Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps thenclay; And freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there! —William Collins. THE RUNAWAY. Peter was brave enough over most things. But, like the rest of us, there was just puc thing that made even a brave boy turn coward and run away. In Peter’s case the thing he most dreaded was a storm. The crash of the thunder was terrible enough, hut. the startling flash of the lightning that follows it was worse still. One morning it happened that leter’s mother had to go to see the lav - yer. Peter went too, and sat on a high stool and dangled his legs while Mum mi e and the old gentleman] talked. Presently they stopped talking, and Mummie turned to Peter and said, "I am going to run home for a papei I have forgotten. You had better wait here till I come back. I shall not he -'So* Peter waited. The old lawyer talked politely to him and asked him a lot of tiresome questions, as old gentlemen will. And presently, to Peter s relief, he got up and went out, leaving Peter all alone in the room. It was a small room and rather dark. Peter fancied it was growing darker—as indeed it was. It was very hot, too. But the windows were shut. “I wonder why he doesn’t open them,” thought Peter. “Perhaps he always feels cold. Grandpa does; he told me so.”

Crash! What was that? Peter sat up straight and listened. There it was again. Thunder! There was no mistaking it that time. Petei s heart began to beat rapidly. It was coming nearer. Another crash and a vivid flash of lightning. And Peter was all alone. Trembling all over, lie jumped down and ran, to the door “Mr Lawyer!” he called. “ Where are you, please?” But there was no answer. Peter ran to the foot of the stairs and shouted. Surely there was somebody in the house. But if there was they were Terribly deaf for not a sound came back to him. Only the noise of the thunder. And that was terrible. The next clap shook the house. Peter shrieked and rushed to the door and ran out—out into the storm and the rain, that came down heavily and fell in great splashes on the i>avement. . When his mother found him, after a Ion" search, he was standing huddled up “under a great, tree. He had no coat on, and the rain was running off him in little streams. “Oh,- Peter!” cried his mother. “What a dangerous place to take sliolter in V* “I know,” answered Peter with a funny smile. “But, you see, she wouldn’t come away, and I oouldn t leave her.” “She! Who?” “The little girl,” said Peter; and, stepping into the road, he called, “You can come out now. It’s all over. And from behind Peter’s coat came a tiny village child. “She was much! more afraid th?n I was,” explained Peter; “so I put my coat round her and hid her eyes so that she shouldn t see the flashes, ’i shall never be afraid of a storm again,” ho whispered, as they went along home. “Boys shouldn t be, should they?”

Teacher: “Yes, children,, when the war broke out, all. the able-bodied men ’ who could leave their families enlisted in the army. Now can any of you tell me what motives took them to the Front?” T Bright. Boy (triumphantly): Locomotives.” LANTERNS. Their little orange lanterns sway On living poles of green, • And though they seem just plants by day, At night they light the scene Of-parties that the fairies hold Down: by the lawn’s edge, near the stream. Some time I shall be very'old And join them really, not just dream That I’ve been with them all the night. I'll take their hands and dance about, .Unless they’ll let me guard one light And, when the dawn comes—blow it out!' THE GOLDFISH. (From the French'.) Someone had given Mary a, goldfish. She was very fond of it, and bought it a beautiful bowl. M-ary looked after her fish well. She gave it all sorts of good things to eat, and every other day she changed the water in the bowl. But one evening a dreadful accident happened. Leaning oyer the sink, she was emptying the howl, when the thing slipped from her hands: and was smashed into a thousand pieces, and the poof fish disappeared like lightning down the drain. That evening Mary went to bed with a heavy heart. Scarcely had she fallen asleep, however, when there sounded above her head a terrible noise. She opened her eyes and saw an enormous goldfish, large as & shark, looking down at her with a ferocious eye, and growling like a dog. "if ho put mo down the drain ? asked the goldfish. Scared to' death, Mary knelt on her bed and asked the goldfish, to forgive her. The fish was swimming about in space very fiercely, thrashing the furniture with its enormous; tail.

••• JEST, STORY AND VERSE

At last it disappeared lip the clnmWhen Mary woke she understood, it was a dream, hat she made up her mind that she would he more car tin in future. TUBAL CAIN. Old Tubal Cain was a man of might In the days when .earth was young; By the firce red light of his furnace bright The strokes of his hammer rung; „ And he lifted high his brawny hand On the iron glowing clear, Till the sparks rushed out in scarlet showers, As he fashioned the sword and spear. And lie sang-"Hurrah for my handiwork ! , ~ Hurrah for the spear and sword 1 Hurrah for the hand that shall wield them well, , ' For he shall be king and lord I To Tubal Cain came many a one, As he wrought by bis roaring fire,, And each one prayed for a strongsteel blade As the crown of his desire; And he made them weapons sharp and strong, Till they shouted loud for glee And gave him gifts of pearls and gold, And spoils of the forest free And they sang— 'Hurrah for Lubal Cain, , . Who hath given us strength anew! Hurrah for the smith, hurrah for the fire. And hurrah for the metal true. But a sudden change came o'er his heart, Ere the setting of the sun, And Tubal Cain was filled with pain For the evil he had done; He saw that men, with rage and hate. Made war upon their kind. That " the land was red with the blood they shed In their lust for carnage blind. And he said— "Alas', that ever I made. Or that skill of mine should plan, The spear and the sword for men whose joy Is to slay their fellow-man! And for many a day old Tubal CainSat brooding o’er his woe; And his hand forbore to smite the ore. And his furnace low. But he rose at last with a cheerful

face. And a bright, courageous eye. And bared his strong right arm for work, While the quick flames mounted high. And he sang— “Hurrah for my handiwork !" And the red sparks lit the all; Not alone for the blade was the bright steel made; And he fashioned the first ploughshare! And men, taught wisdom from the past In friendship joined their hands. Hung the sivord in the hall, the spear on the wall, And ploughed the willing lands; And sang—“Hurrah for Tribal Cain! Our staunch good friend is he; And for the ploughshare and the plough, v To him our praise shall be. But while oppression lifts its head. Or a tyrant would be lord, Though we may thank him for the plough, We'll not forget the sword!” ‘ (Tubal Cain is said to have been the first worker in metals.) —Charles Mackay.