OUR YOUNG FOLKS' COLUMN

Mataura Ensign, 28 February 1907, Page 1

OUR YOUNG FOLKS' COLUMN

OUR MOTTO : Whatever thy hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might. RULES. J. AH letters for the week's publication should reach the office not later than Monday afternoon. 2. Correspondents should write on only one side of tne paper. 3. All correspondents must send their real names,, not necessarily for publication. i. All letters should be addressed thus : Press M.SS. U.NCLE PHIL, Ensign Office, Gore.

.NOTICE TO CORRESPONDENT. Rogue 11.--Thank you lor private note 1 shall be glad to hear from you.

Dear Boys and Girls,—A correspondent has asked me how to press leaves and flowers. Having done very little work of this kind, I approached a friend (Mr C. Burrows, of the local nursery), who adlises the following mode of procedure--For leaves : (jet some clean white blotting paper; place the leaves between two sheets of the blotting material, taking cure to spread out the leaves in their natural form. Rut the blotting paper and leaves carefully into a letter press and tighten it gently. If the leaves are nek it is necessary to take thorn out of le press in about a couple of hours, put them into fresh blotting paper, and replace them in the press. The oi'tener hey are taken out and put into clean blotting paper during the following three or (our days will largoly determine the success of the effort to preserve the leaves. If there is no letter or similar press available, thou the best plan is to put the leaves and blotting paper between two smooth, flat boards, and placing them on a floor, lav weights on t.ie top . The blotting paper will need to be changed just as in the case of those put mto the letter press. Mr Burrows says (hat it is very hard to press flowers and yet to retain their symmetry. Especially is this so in the case of (lowers with thick petals and with thick centres He recommends the same method of pressing (or bolh (lowers and leaves. A gardener'* journal suggests the following as a good plan lor preserving flowers, but Mr Buriows doubts very much whether its use, (specially by amateurs, would end in anything but total failure. An airtight box is obtained, and on the inside of the lid he (lowers to be preserved are suspended by men us of pins or in any oilier suitable way. The box is (hen. placed on a flat smooth board, this board aetiii" as a bottom f„r the box. The edges of the bottomless ,'.i„x which rest on (he board are covered with felt to make them fit light on (he board. Any other method which makes the inside of the box airtMit would do. When the Ilowers are fixed in position „n the inside of the lid. some sulphur is bud on (he board on which the '"verted box is to rest, and the sulphur, is l't. Hie flowers are thus subjected to the l umes of sulphur within tlie box, but as tho burning sulphur soon uses up ah (lie oxygen in the air inside the box, the sulphur \pvy soon goes out. It is claimed that flowers may be thus .successfully preserved. Perhaps some of my correspondents may have tried it, or some other plan which they would (ell us about. Mv ndvice to young folic, beginning to press flowers, is not to try (he sulphur method UNCLE PHIL. NOT UNDERSTOOD. By Thomas Bracken. Not understood. We move alon- asunderOur paths grow wider as the seasons creep Along (.ho years; we marvel and we wonder M'hy life is lifer And then we fall asleep—--Not understood. Not understood. We gather false impressions. And hug them closer as the years "o liv Till virtues often seem to' us Transgressions; And thus men rise and fall, and live and dieNot understood. Not understood. Poor souls with slutited vision Oil- measure giants by (heir narrow gauge; The poisoned shafts of falsehood and derision Are oft impelled 'gainst (hose , v |„, mould (he ageNot understood. Not understood. The secret springs of action, Which lie beneath the surface and (he show, Are disregarded; Willi self-satisfaction We judge our neighbors, and (hey cl'fcn -Not understood. Not understood, flow trifles ulleu change us ! The thoughtless sentence or (he fancied slight Destroy long years of friendship, and estrange us, And on mil souls there falls a freezing blightNo! nmlorslooil.

Not understood. How many hearts are aching For lack of sympathy! Ah, day by day How many cheerless, lonely hearts are breaking! How many noble spirits pass nvay— Not understood. 0 God! that men would see a liftlo clearer. Or judge less harshly where they cannot see. 0 God! that men would draw a little nearer To one another; they'd be nearer Thee— And understood. fVu esteemed correspondent has asked me to insert the above.—U.P.] • Dear Uncle Phil,—] am going to write once again to let you know that 1 am still keeping up my correspondence with you. Did you go to C'olac Bay, Uncle f 1 did not go, but I was out all day with my sister, and we met the people coming home in the rain. My mother and my sister were up at. Queenstown last week; it was the first time they havo been up tor six years, and they said everything was just lovely. Queenstown is one of the places 1 should like to go to, hut I don't suppose I shall over get there. It has been a very dry summer; everything seems to he looking for water. There is a girl friend of mine who lives just above your place. When you see her will you please remember me to her, and tell her that 1 hope she is keeping well:- I think you will know whom 1 mean. In my last letter you asked mo what my favorite fruit was. I think pears are; they are so soft and juicy. I don't care for apples. I can't understand boys stealing them off the trees. Winter will soon be here again; it is the season that agrees best with me; the heat knocks me up. I think you will he tired of this now, so 1 will close with love and best wishes to all my cousins and yourself.—l am, your loving niece, G ">e- GLADYS. (A es, I know the young lady you refer to; and, when I see her, will not forget to deliver your kind message. Oil, yes, the day will come for you to go to Queenstown, and you will enjoy the trip all the more for patient waiting. Write again soon.—U. P.] Dear Unelo Phil,—After a long silence 1 once more take up my pen to write to you. The harvest is in full swing up here just now, and people are busy cutting while it is fine. Are you going to the Exhibition ? My father and mother have just come home. I was at the Balfour sports on Boxing Day. There were a good few people present, but the - sports were slow to what they generally are. The Waikaia ones again were very good. I entered for two things, but did not win. I ran in the boys' hundred yards race, and came fourth, as J had not enough of training. The other thing T entered for Mas the wrestling. There were two or ihree Gore competitors at the sports. I was also at the Weudonside picnic. I only won one race there, but I enjoyed myself very much. We got our harvest holidays last week. I think school will start again in four weeks. I was down at Gore show, f spent a very enjoyable day. I had two rides on the "Ocean Wave." I waited to see the circus that night, but there was no performance. You could get in to see the wild animals, but T did not bother. 1 went to a play in the Town Hall instead. This is not a very long letter, but 1 will try and write you a longer one next time. Hasn't the weather been very dvy ? Isn't it strange to think that they are selling cattle in Canterbury for five shillings a head ? Everybody about is calling for rain. 1 think this is all T have to say, so with love to all the TJ.P.N.'s, not forgetting yourself, —1 remain, yours truly, THE SHEPHERD. fl ain glad that you have broken the long silence. Bo sure to write regularly now. You had a good round of picnics and sports gatherings. It would be bad for our farmers if they had to sell their sheep at the low prices you mention. Don't you think theie are worse places to live iu than Southland ?—U.P.J

Dear Uncle Phil,—Seme time has now elapsed since last 1 wrote to your page. The holidays are now over, and we have again commenced our usual duties. I spent a very enjoyable holiday in Dunedin at New Year time. During my time there, 1 met several of my cousins that I had not seen for ten years, and what a difference .' They were only little boys going (o school when last 1 saw them, and now they are quite grown up. We had a nice talk about schooldays; it's wonderful, when old friends meet, how things come back to one's own meutory—things that you would think had vanished long ago. Some friends and 1 visited St. Clair also, and what a. lovely tim* ivo had walking along the beach and gathering ii]) shells. It was a perfect day too, and all that could be desired. We also tried to climb up a high cliff, and siicceeeded in getting fully half-way, but had to give up in despair, although patience and perseverance overeometh nil difficulties. But we could not manage,as our time was limited. Dear Uncle Phil, did you hear the Besses o' th' Barn Band-' 1 went to hear them, and enjoyed the music splendidly. It seemed to me just like a large organ playing. The weather is very changeable at present. The farmers "»r-> all busy harvesting. Some of the crops are very poor, owing to (he dry season. I think 1 will conclude, will, fond hive to all the cousins, not forgetting yourself, dear Uncle.—] remain, your loving niece, Wnikako Vall.'.v. ' MYSTERIA. [Yes, a lew years make a great change on young people. Boys and girls in that time become young men and women. Voung men and women begin to show signs of age and grey hairs intrude (hemselves. St. Clair is a very nice beach, und we from inland districts enjoy the sea. (hough I know a man whom the sea depresses rather than pleases. The music of its waves sounds to him like a sob. 1 I hope we shall soon hear from you.—U.P.]