From the Kiwi’s Nest

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XVI, Issue 221, 4 September 1926, Page 12

From the Kiwi’s Nest

competitions for our young folks

JEREMY DIDDLER. Jeremy Diddler, The one-eyed fiddler, He was such a quaint little man; He called “A”, “au,” And his bow his “baw,” And his wife “Poor Mary Ann.’ Digsy Doddler, The wooden-legged cobbler, A singular sole had he; He never seemed to care That his feet Went bare, And he didn’t know A from B. Jeremy Diddler, The one-eyed fiddler, Went to a dance one night; He tuned his “lyre’’ From the telegraph wire—'And found his A was right. But Digsy Diddler, The wooden-legged cobbler Declared that Jeree-my Had caught the “Au” From an old Jackdaw Singing on the old oak tree. Dear Kiwis, —Instead of writing you a letter this week I am going to tell you a story, which is intended especially for my junior Kiwis, though I hope that many of the senior members of the tribe will also enjoy it. It is called “Adventures in Mer-land,” and goes like this:— ADVENTURES IN MER-LAND. (By GWYNNETH E. WILLIAMS.) BOBBIE, a little boy of about six years, lived in a big house by the sea-shore. He had a great many books, but the one he liked the best was the one with the story of the mermaids in it. One day, he was gathering pretty pebbles on the beach, when, suddenly

he heard a soft voice calling: “Bobbie—come with me.” Where could the sound have oome from ? Bobbie looked around in astonishment. Once again the voice called: “Bobbie— Bobbie.” At last he glanced towards a huge wave rolling toward him, and seated on its foamy crest was a mermaid with long flowing hair and radiant eyes that reflected the beauty of the deep blue sea, and a silvery tail. Bobbie gazed at her speechless. She beckoned him; but he cast a tearful glance at the deep water. “But,” he said, “1 can’t swim.” But the isea maid still beckoned. He could not resist the temptation, and so he boldly stepped into the water. The moment the water tipped his little toe, he felt himself growing smaller, and then he felt a tickling sensation in hi s legs. He looked down, and 10l he had a tail just like that of the mermaid. After seating himself on the crest of the wave by the mermaid, he felt himself floating out to sea. Then the wave went down-down-down, until he landed with a bump on the back of a crab. Imagine his surprise when the crab indignantly protested. “That is a nice thing to do when I am all dressed to go to Queen BrightEye’s party.” Then the mermaid explained his visit. “My name is Silver-Tail, and to-day a s it is Queen Bright-Eye’s birthday she sent her daughters up into the land of mortals to bring back any little boy or girl who believes in mermaids. As you picked up shells, I could see by your eyes that you loved us. So I called, and here you are.” Just then, he heard a noise behind him, and, turning around, saw Betty, his playmate, with a tail just like his.

Silver-Tail then called them to come into the carriage, which, on getting in. they found to be a giant mother-of-pearl shell, drawn by four sea-horses.

Soon they arrived at the amber gates of the palace. The children were speechless with wonder, for the palace was perfect. They walked on a floor of polished pearl, and over their heads was a ceiling, which was of a mosaic design, made in rubies, emeralds, sapphires and diamonds.

Bobbie glanced towards the throne and, 10l there was his mother sitting amid splendour. He rushed frantically toward her, and suddenly she laughed, and all was changed. There was his mother in a print apron shaking Bobbie and Betty and scolding them for sleeping on the beach. But Bobbie and Betty knew it wasn’t a dream, though grown-ups said it was. But as Bettv said, “Grown-ups don’t know.” I hope you have liked my little story, and before saying Good-night 1 want you to join me in welcoming some new Kiwis—Joyce and Florence Walther, who are writing from Woodville ,and Gilbert and Barbara Natusch, who hail from even further afield—Lower Hutt. Barbara some time ago introduced herself to us ns a Kiwi, and I am so pleased that her brother has also decided to join up.

1 have beside me a nice little note of acknowledgment from Dinah Redpath, and one from Laura Beale. 1 hope, Laura, that your accusation is not well founded, for 1 should indeed be sorry to find that one Kiwi copied from another’s essay. I shall keep a careful watch, and Laura, please do not write riddle and joke on one page. Many thanks to Mavis Johnstone for riddles, but they are useless without their accompanying answers, and even then, only one may be accepted. Gordon .Sweetman posted his essay minus a rtarnp, so we were, of course, taxed by the postal officials. Love to you all. CHIEF KIWI.