CHILDREN’S CORNER'

Gisborne Times, Volume LV, Issue 6274, 30 December 1921, Page 3

CHILDREN’S CORNER'

By Joyce

Very Bright and Happy Ne\v Year to All Readers! The New Year is popularly supposed to be. tlio time to make good resolutions and turn over new leaves; but it is doubtful if this is very often done. It is a good idea, however, and can certainly do- no harm —and who- knows to what it may dead? Let us all, then, make up our minds to do our very best and nothing but our best in work and play, pleasure and duty. Let us remember Solomon’s advice: “Whatsoever thy hand findet'h to do, do it with thy might.” HILLS ’OF HOME. Oh! you hills are filled with sunlight* and the green leaves paled to gold, And the smoking mists of autumn hanging faintly o’er the world. I dream of hills of other days, whose sides I loved to roam, When Spring was'dancing through the lanes of those distant hills- of home. The winds of heaven gathered there as pure and cold as dew;' Wood-sorrel and wild violets along the hedgerows grew. The blossom on the,pear trees was white as Hakes of foam, In the orchard ’neath the shadow of those- distant hills of home. The first white frost in the meadow will be shining there to-day, And the furrowed upland glinting warm beside the woodland way. There, a bright face and -a clear hearth will be waiting when I come And my heart is throbbing wildly for those distant bills of home. TONY NAMES HIS DOG. Tony was ever so glad to get h'is little dog home. “Do you know how to feed him?” asked Mr Mason. “No,” said Tony; “but Phil will.” Phil ordered biscuits and pieces from the kitchen; and what was more, ho was very firm about the puppy's bedmom. Tony wanted him to sleep in the nursery, but Phil wouldu t hear of it. “He must go in the stable,” be said. “He’ll be warm and comfortable there, and it’s the kind of bed lie’s used to.” “ He helped Phil make up a bed or straw beside the pony’s stall, and then they said good-night to them and went off. It was a long time before Tony could get to sleep that night. For hours lie lay awake, thinking of his pet, and when at last his tired eyes shut and he sailed away to dreamland, it was still the puppy he was dreaming of. He was awakened, not long after, by the sound of a strange cry. He sat up in bed and listened. It came from the stable, and Tony knew it must be the puppy. The little thing was crying piteously. “Crying for his mother —or for me,” Tony said to himself The sounds went on, and at last, when Tony’s tender little heart could bear it no longer, he threw back the bed-clothes and crept down the stairs. He had some difficulty in opening the liall-door, but he managed it after a n-oc-d deal of tugging, and rail out. The little clog must have heard him coming, for lie left off crying, and becran barking in quick, joyful barks. “You poor old thing!” Tony said. “You shan’t stay out here another minute. You shall come into the house and sleep in the kitchen?.” So Tony went back to the house and watched the puppy curl up on the kitchen hearth-rug. In five minutes he was asleep. Then Tony got up and went back to bed. The next thing he remembered was cook’s voice. She was very angry. “Just look at the rug!” she was saying indignantly. “The little wretch lias torn it to shreds!” “And the tablecloth, too!” cried his mother. “Oh! dear, oh dear'! IVhat a naughty dog he is to be sure.” . Tony dressed and ran downstairs. There was the puppy looking- ever so pleased with himself, standing like a King of the Castle on a little heap of rags’ before the kitchen fire. “Whatever made him do it? asked Just then Daddy came in. Daddy knew. „ , “To make a bed, of he sai-cl. “Who let him out of the stable ” ~ “I did,” answered Tony. I. could not bear to hear him crying.” Daddy laughed and said ' Bosk When Phil heard about it he laughed too. “You had better have left him in the stable,” lie said. “Yes,” agreed . Tony. “But I didn’t think he’d be such a young scamp.” -. „,, ~ “What a.re you going to call him asked Phil. “That!” said Tony, bubbling over with laughter. “Scamp! That s just what he is—a young scamp. And so Scamp he was called.

LILLY SUZANNE., j She was called Suzanne, though she j was English, after a. very beautiiul j French, girl who had been a school j friend of her mother's. She was an , only Child, and perhaps that was why all her life she had been petted a spoilt. Unfortunately she was inclined to he vain. She liked to wear pretty frocks and big hats, with long feathers curling round them. She had a ciueer fancy, too, for carrying an umbrella. -Why she liked to be bothered ; with a lumpy thing like an umbiella nobody knew. She hardly knew her- . Se -You don't need an umbrella today " her mother said one afternoon were starting out. lut JJ®* ridiculous thing away and come a.lo g. They were going to see a lady who lived in . Ms When ■**, ** there they found she ,vns Tvirtv Suzanne followed hex motnei into the drawing-room and sat down. No one spoke much to h< F’ , st sently thinking how dull she mu v find it her mother whispered, You MV run into the garden if you. lito. Take care," she added, as Suzann , nr, "Don't fall over that sunshade. Just then someone called to tornther, and she turned away looked at the sunshade and bei cys sparkled. What aloy el ythingitwa« And what a quaint shapel She looked round— nobody was notion D . caught it up and ran out into tli ß den with it. Near a lake she found ■a lovely spot. She pu u l> ... i oof rlown under it, smHin o l appii; to h«S She thought She must make a very pretty picture sitting there. She wished she W a mirror to see herself in. , might do. She sat up and went to the ecUe and leaned over. As 6ho could not see very well she leaned over further. What happened next youm y not ghees. Over she toppled with a splash— Suzanne and the sunshade t . Of course she screamed and of cours they all came running, to pull he out. But the sunshade was ruined, ,and Suzanne felt very sidy when they questioned her. She didn’t explain. How could she? SAFETY FIRST. Little Miss Muffett, instead of a buffet, Sat on a kerb one day ; Along came a lorry, and now she is ■sorry, Her feet having got in the way. Why is coffee like a blunt .knife. Because it must be ground before it is used. k .

®ffl© JEST, STORY AND VERSE

THE CHANGES OF TIME

Spoke Chicher the immortal, the ever

young; I passed by a city., a man stood near, Plucking fruit, that in a fair garden I askelff “How long has the city been

here?’* He said, as the clustering fruit he

caught, “There was always a city on the spot, And so there will be till Time is not. Five hundred years rolled by before I was standing upon that spot once more.

Not a’ trace of the city could be- seen; A shepherd boy, piping liis song alone; Hi® flocks were browsing the herbage green. I asked, “How long has the city been gone?” He said, while still on his pipe he played: "Fresh floweis spring up as the others fade; Here I and my Hocks have ever strayed.” Five hundred years rolled by, as before; I was- standing upon that spot once , more.

I found there a sea with billows crested. A man was shooting, his fishing-year, And as from the heavy draught he rested, I asked: “How long has the sea been

here ?” He smiled at my question, and thus he spake: “As long as the waves in foam have

broke, It lias been the haunt of us fisher folk.’ Five hundred years rolled by, as before; I was standing upon that spot once more.

A fall spreading forest there I found, And a woodman old in its shadows

drear. The strokes of liis axe broke the silence

round. 1 asked: “How old is the forest here?” He said: “All the days of my life I’ve

known This forest a forest and dwelt alone ’Mong trees thh.fi ever were growing or

grown.” Five hundred years rolled by, as before, I was standing upon that spot once more.

’Twas a city now, where the humresounded Of,crowds on a festive holiday. I asked: “What time was the city founded? The forest, apd sea, and pipe, where are they ?’* They cried, of my question taking no thought, . “’Twas always the same as now, tins spot, And so it will be till Time is not. And when five hundred years have rolled by, as before, I’ll be standing upon that spot once more. , . —Ruckert (a translation). SAFETY FIRS' I '- Little Jack Horner Stood at the corner .Watching the traffic go by; And when, it had passed He crossed over at last, And said “What a good boy am I. When does a silver cup run? When it’s chased! ‘When is a bill like a pistol. When it is presented and discharged.