Aunt Roberta's Family

Manawatu Standard, Volume XLV, Issue 58, 7 February 1925, Page 9

Aunt Roberta's Family

"AUNT ROBERTA'S" LETTER

My dear little people.—l am a very disap-1 pointed ''Aunt Roberta" this week. It hai been brought under ray notice that the win-' nine versea which appeared in this Corner on the 24th January, entitled "The Daisies," i was not an original ffeort. Anyone who sends in copied versos as their cwu is not domg the right thing. Also, it is not fair to' other children, who are wciking hard and using then? brains in ;.n enduivcur to get ii place in the com petitions. Jt might bo said that I should have known the verse in question was copied—but it ii impossible for m» to to as wn.e is Solomon. it did occur to rnc. v/l.en judging the entries, that "The l>nVes" showed remarkable merit for a g;rl of 11 yvars of age. On more than one occancn I have pointed out that all entries to tho competitions must be "YOUR OWN UNAIDED EFFORT" (with the exeepi'on of Jokes, Riddles or Catches), an i this has also appeared in the Competition Rules every week since this Corner started, 'ihtre is no excuse for anyone. Let this be a warning to all of you. Your sorrowful, "Aunt Rcbiita." "LITTLE BOO." TRAGEDY—CHAPTER V. "Hop in, and I'll take you for a ride." said Leslie —the Scotts' cousin—to the twins and Little 800, whom he happened to meet near the Devonport wharf. Jlo had just learned to drivo his father's | new "swell" motor car, and was glad of i tho opportunity to exhibit this accom-1 plishment to his relatives. With alacrity the trio accepted tho invitation. John sat by tho 'chaffeur,' while Joan and Beulah scrambled into the back portion of tho roomy car. "Been doing any dancing lately?" the boy nonchalantly asked Little 800 over his shoulder, hoping his cousins had noticed the dexterous way in which he had taken tho corner. Little 800 pouted her lips: "Auntie won't let me," she said petulantly. "All the same, 800 dances," John enlightened his cousin; and his twin added eagerly—" Down on tho beach, in her bathing costume, and sometimes lots of people stand round watching." "They liko the Catherine-wheels Btunt the best," John continued. "If Aunt Bobbettn knew sho'd have sixty-seven fits!" "Why?" asked their cousin, grinning at the latter remark. " 'Cause Auntio is afraid I'll go on the stage when I grow big," 800 -eplied. She tossed her head defiantly. "And so I will —whatever she says." "Hear hear," applauded Leslie, and tooted tho horn so loudly and so long that a decrepit dame, crossing the street, ran like a flightened rabbit. "Watch mo raco thi3 miserable car." With a whirr and a bang they passed the car that had called forth tho scorriful remark, and quickly climbed the steep the top of hor head. An expanse of sapphiro-bluo sea, scintillating under the sun's powerful rays, spread as far as eye could see. "Gee-whizz!" shouted John "Not a bad view," remarked cousin with a condescending air—as if he wero responsible for it. Little Boo'3 eyes glowed : "Oh, I could dance—an' danco I" She felt marvellously exhilarated by tho rushing through the air, and her artistic spirit responded to nature's beauties to the point of ecstasy. Sho stood up on the seat of the car, and kicked at Joan with her dainty foot —"Movo up, move up, I must dance 1" Her cousin turned his head, and watched her, laughing. "Look out, whero you'ro going!" John bellowed, for the car was heading in the direction of tho gutter. Leslie, flustered, applied the brakes ana brought tho car to a sudden standstill. bump, bump—and Little 800 fell out on the to pof hor head. The tlireo in tho car sat as if petrified for a few moments, their gaze upon the crumpled fi,juro lying so still in the street. Then Joan screamed, closing her eyes tightly. The boys, faces livid and limbs shaking, sprang out of tho car. How she moaned when they touched her ! "Go for a doctor, quick 1" gasped Leslie. John turned to obey, and brushed again a tall man, hatless, who grasped him by tho arm, saying: "I'll telephone, bring her into my house across there." He bent over tho child: "Help me to lift her, very gently, that's it." Shfl moaned again and John turned cold and sick. In fascinated fear ho riveted his goze upon the little, waxen face, streaked with tho dust of tho road. Joan crept after them, sobbing in an undertone, "Little Boo t oh, dear Little 800, Oh." Fifteen minutes later, Aunt Roberta, making jam in tho kitchen, was startled to.see a shrinking, white-faced John appear suddenly in the doorway. Ho had no hat on his head, his freckles seemed bigger and blacker than ever before, and his eyes were wild. "Aunt, it's —" he gulped, "It's —Little Boo — sho's " All things drew indistinct to Aunt Roberta's sight. Her body swayed backwards and forwards, and sho clung with both hands to the table for support. "Little Boo—she's —" sho repeated, woodenly. "No no Auntie, not that!" John exclaimed piteously. He explained in agitated gasps, "Leslie asked us to go for a drive in uncle's new car —Boo—fell out. A man took her into his house—Lcs and I came for you—John is with Boo." Aunt Roberta, still dazed by shock, mechanically removed the apron from her person. "Get my hat," she said to the trembling bov, and then corrected tho order with a sharp "No." Sho ran out of tho kitchen door, down the passage, to the waiting car, John panting after her. "How did it happen?" sho questioned, as the car Bped along tho stroots. John stole a glance at his aunt's stony counten. ance, and remained silent. He could not bear to speak blajno of Little 800, when even at that moment she might be dead. Dreadful thought! But his cousin did not share this feeling, and replied— , "Little 800 stood up on the seat-whero you are now sitting—and began to dance I turned my head to see the car swerved I brought it to a standstill and Little 800 earned''the aunt, sharply. "She said you had forbidden hor to dance, and she must." *»,-_„ Aunt Roberta moved uneasily;. there was an expression of deep pain in her '""Poor little soul," she said softly "I had no idea it meant so much to her! (To be Continued). CRISPIES' CORNER. Amelia Currin, Linton, Manawatu, *When~l was a little girl of six years of aee my mother asked me one day to peel the' potatoes for dinner and I was quite nleased to, do so. However, when the job was done, mother had to inspect them lot lurset She noticed that I had left the eyes in' the potatoes, and said: "Why, dear, you have left all the oy« in." "Well mother, I thought the poor potatoes would like to see where they are going/' ; . . Two Irishmen, whose boat had capsized, were hanging on to a log of wood. Pat who could swim, eaid: "You bang

on, Mike, till Oi go ashore and save myself. Thou Oi'll come back and save you." (Rita Cinpham, Palmerston North.) • '* * * A man who was boarding at the home of an Irishman, complained of the rain coming through a holo in his bedroom roof. Naturally tho man asked tho landlord why ho did not mend the roof. Pat replied that it was too wet to think of going out of doors. Tho boarder said: "Why not do it then in fine weather?" "Shute there's no use then, man," replied Pat. (Josephine Morgan, Ashhuist.) ***** Officer, to Irish recruit, who has missed every shot: "Great Scott, man, whero are your shots going to?" Irish recruit: "Begorra, and I durnnour, sir, but shure they left here orlright." (Ralph Holmes, Palmerston North). » r * '* * * A brawny Irishman leaned over the big glass case in tho chemist's shop, and eventually managed to locate tho diminutive proprietor. "Wud ye plaizo give mo somethin' to kill moths?" he asked; and was promptly supplied with a packet of camphor balls. "Good day. sir!" said the business-like chemist briskly. "I hope I shall soon have the pleasure of seeing you again." Ho saw him again quite soon, but, as it happened, it was with no particular pleasure. "Ar-re you th' monkey-faced little foot that sowled me these balls?" shouted the Irishman, rushing in later on in the day. In his nervousness the man of pills said he was. "Well, thin," .howled the Brishmar, "just you come homo wid me, an' if ye can hit a single moth wid ono of these haythen pellets, I'll spare ye the thrashin' ye'll git otherwise, and say nothin' about tho' lookin' glass an' ornaments meself an' tho missis broke." (Claudo Hurst, Rongotea.) ***** Mr O'Malvey, whose hands and stationery were not as immaculate as they might have been, was laboriously writing u business letter of some importance. "There," exclaimed the scribe, mopping his brow, after an hour's hard work. " 'Tis finished, it is. Jooat be handin' me an invilope. Nora." "Shure," said Nora, critically inspecting tho only envelope the house afforded, " 'tis none too clane." "Oi'll fix that," said O'Falvey, seizing his pen. "Oi'll joost add a wee postcript." And he did. It read: "Kindly excuse the dirt. This envelope was perfectly clean when it left; my hands !" (Sheila Casey, Palmerston North.) An Englishman was travelling in Ireland when' he came to a bog. "Has this bog a good sound bottom?" he asked an Irishman who was standing nenr by. "It has that, sorr," responded the man. The Saxon then stepped into the bog, but soon, found himself sinking rapidly. "You villain!" he roared. "You said this bog had a good hard bottom !" "So it has, sorr," replied Pat, "but you haven't reached it yet! (Eula Arthur, Palmerston North.) "OUR MAIL BAG." Kathleen O'Reilly: Very glad to have you as a member of my happy family. You marked your entries "6th competitions." Joke is right for these competitions, but Riddles only asked for sth competitions, so it was put among the other entries. —hut. missed this time. Bessie Trollope: Good girl, Bessie, keep on trying. I might use your suggestion for a competition later on. Clifton Duncan: I appreciate, your interest. The competitions at present close every 11 days, and so far, oceording to letters from children, they are in favour of this. Yours is the only negative vote. When arranging tho competitions for each week. I try to cater (in a small way) for all tastes, and, therefore, it would be hardly fair to have two story competitions running at tho same time. I might be able to use your suggestion to have a "big story competition"—under, say, 2000 words —and alter the closing date of that particular competition in order to allow plenty of time. But, judging from entries 1 have received to elate, only very few would be capable of writing a worth while story of that length. F. Sheriff: Delighted to hear from you. Later on I have hopes of starting senior division competitions, but cannot think of it at present. 1 shall be able to uso the suggestions for competitions which you sent me, and thank you very much for your help. They are splendid suggestions. You are correct in your reading of the jumbled verse. Perhaps you may writo me again in the future. Betty Whitehead, Margery Whitehead, Den (jroucett, Irene Oliver, Ralph Holmes, Mary Needham, drawings very nice, but not called for, so they cannot compete. Sorry. 6th competitions called for "Silhouette Drawings," and 6th competition for tho reproduction of "On his native heath" to bo cut out and coloured. There was a senior and junior division for this, latter. 11. Watt: Drawings are not "Silhouette." "The Flatiefer." Someone sent in a drawing so entitled—no name or address on it. It is not a "Silhouette." W. Clare. Carnarvon: You evidently omitted to include in the answer to your riddle tho answer to "two small fruits." L. Borroson: "Nip and the' Pigeons" well written—but tame. D. Humphreys: "Just in time" shows promise, although it is far-fetched. The second par is involved, and there were one or two flight errors in grammar and spelling. Raymond P. Morgan : "Thunder-Cloud s Vengeance" far-fetched. Why not write a story of the present day—theme probable ? Alary Diederich: Not a bad little story —but nothing to it. R. L. Knight: "Riohard Collins." Although a good story, it is impossible to credit that a cliff could part, disclosing a circular passage, and that a man. falling down the passage could perceive a signalling apparatus and ammunition. Clifton Duncan, Constance Lamerton, James Lamerton, Agnes Jackson: Miss this time. Weak. Nory Bagnall: "Trouble in a pencil-box" has already appeared. See issue of January 1 17th. NINTH COMPETITIONS. Closing date. Wednesday, 18th February, 1925. Each envelope nnd entry mu6t bo marked "Ninth Competitions." Which of the Nursery Talcs did you liko best when you w<-ro litiin— and v.liy Ist prize, ss, 2nd r.rizo £* Cd. Pretty httlo Bunny Rabbits! For tho best sketch : Ist prize ss, 2nd prize 2s 6d. See who can make tho most words out of "Aunt Robert's Family"—of not less than FOUR letters: 2s 6d. A farmer had 99 fowls in five enclosures. In tho first and second enclosures there were altogether 52 fowls; in the 1 second and third 42; in the third and fourth 34; and in tho fourta »nd lifih 28. How many fowls had he in ocen enclosure ? 23 6d. PRIZES. Cash prizes will be awarded each week. Boys and girls up to 17 yearß of age may compete. Tho work will be judged according to quality. Due consideration will be given to the question of age of the competitor. Marks will be awarded as'follow: To the winner of any competition, in-1 for the one who sends in the !>est joke, riddle, catch, etc ■■ 4 To the boy or girl who gains second place 3 Highly commended 2 Commended ... I

A ueord will be kept of the marks gained, a: id at the end of the year the following p'izes will bo given: A 1 andsome gold medal to tho one who gains tho highest number of marks. A silver medal to the one who gains tho » cond highest number of marks. The se medals will be in addition to the cash >rizes awarded each week of the year. COMPETITION RULES. Wr te in ink on one sido of paper only. Neat less, good writing and punctuation will i ount. Eai h entry must bo on a separate sheet, with name, age, date of birth, and address undo neath it. All entries must bo your own unaided effort, except jokes, riddles, catches, etc. Dr; .wings must bo done in black ink, unless < therwise 6tated. Ad Iress all entries, letters, etc., to — "Aunt Roberta," C/( f "Manawatu Evening Standard." Palmerston North. "BRED IN THE BONE." A STORY OF FOOTBALL— AND OTHER THINGS. It was a raw winter afternoon, soon after the comenccment of the July term at \\ estleigh College. In the private study that was his own particular sanctum. Dr. Will] field, the principal of the great school, sat n earnest consultation with Ilaydon, the botball coach. Fo: more than 25 years, Dr. Wingfield had been the guiding spirit in Westleigh's prog 'ess; his personality had been the mail, factor in raising the college from its mod' st beginning to a leading place among the rreat public schools. Like all similar insti' utions, Westleigh prided itself upon the truditions of a past rich in notable achi( vements, both on the field of sport and in tho less picturesque realm of study. In f istering these traditions, no man had figur ;d more prominently than the genial head.naster, whose sterling qualities were knovn and appreciated wherever the term "sportsman" was understood. "1 don't like being pessimistic, Doctor," Hay lon was saying in a serious tone, "but, fran :ly, I'm up against it this time, it seen s. Next Saturday—less than a week alien d—the boys are drawn to meet Blackwood Grammar School in a match that will go a long way towards deciding this year s premiership. Our team is sound and fit c nough, and were it not for one thing, 1 would have no fears legarding their chat ce. Blackwood's are a fine side —like ours ;lves they have not yet been defeated — and the team that beats them eventually will need to work hard. If I could only find a reliable scrum-half who was dependable I wouldn't worry. But that's tho trouble. I can't find tho one man who is esse itial for our success." "It is unfortunate that Morris left us befc re the season closed,"' replied the Headmaster. "His placo is a very difficult one to fill, though 1 had hopes that young Mc> hane, tho now boy, would prove a succ 3ss. Seeing him at practice, it seemed to no that the right material was there. Has he shown you any cause to think that ho night ariso to tho occasion?" F >r a moment or two ilaydon was sileit; then—"l don't understand that lad at 111 sir," he said. "He has the physique and what is of even greater importance, he has a football brain. Unfortunately, he woi 't take the game seriously—plays as thoi.gh heartily disgusted with the whole tliir g. If he could only bo shocked into real sing that football demands the best a n an can give—then I believe Westleigh woi Id go through the remainder of the matches unbeaten." " 'll come down to the ground to-mor-row and see the team in action." Dr. Wii gtield rose-and conducted the coach to the door. "I'm just as keen on winning the pennant as anyone living, Ilaydon, and it i: possible that I may decide upon soinethil g useful, after all. Good afternoon. With the departure of ilaydon the prinoioi 1 lighted a cigar, and, resuming his char, appl'ed his mind to the problem at har d. Tho study walls were hung with por raits of celebrities from the past histor • of the great school. Tho subjects of tho io photographs were no ordinary men —e ich had left a definite mark in some par.icular walk of life: Surveying each wel -remembered face through tho smoko of lis cigar, the Doctor found his eyes at len rth resting ujxm one which, in a frame draped with the school colours, occupied the place of honour above tho mantelshe f. From its setting a boyish face sm led beneath the Rugby honour cap, wh le an inscription below set out the me eorie record of "Jimmy" McShane—mo it brilliant of Westleigh's football talent of all times. Lower down still—the Doctor s eyes clouded as ho saw it —a bronze tallet paid homage to the memory of "Lent. James McShane, V.C., D.C.M.— kil ed in action at Lone Pine, 6th August, 1915." Looking up into those smiling eyes, Dr. W ngfield'a thoughts went back to the day —i early twenty years before —when Jimmy bale farewell to college life and set out to mako his way in the outside world. Tl ree years later tho news of his marriage co ncided with his retirement from active jp. irt, nnd shortly afterwards tho former he '0 paid a hurried visit to his old school wi:h tho news that his employers were sending him to Papua for twelve months on oil-exploration duties. So far, life had sn iled kindly on "Jimmy" McShane, but «rr m tragedy lurked in the background. Tl ree months after leaving a cablegram brought his world of hopes crashing down in ruins about him. His wife was dead; th-re had been a child, too—the message to d him—but it had only survived a few h< urs ! Jimmy had remained in Papua to hi le the bitterness of his sorrow; he was st 11 the-e when war broke out towards the ei d of 1914. Hurrying back, he was ai long the first to embark for Bervice al road, and as all the world knows, the (I illipoli adventuro provided him with a h< ro's grave. ' 'Twas a glorious finish, Jimmy ! the D >ctor muttered, as ho pushed his chair bi ck and rose to his feet. "I doubt whetbst we'll ever see your equal among us ai ain. If only the child had lived the lo.s would have been less. The world has n<ed of men of your breed, my lad!" Punctually to time on the following afternoon, Ilaydon had the team in hand dewn at the college oval. "Now, lads," In was saying, "this will be your last run bi fore the match to-morrow. Don't run a- ;ay with the idea that this gamo is going tc bo u 'soft snap,' like some of your other siccesses were. It isn't. Blackwood is c ory bit as good as Westleigh. and you'll h .ve to play for your lives. In case your ii emories need refreshing, just forget the d nner-bell for a moment and pay attentiin. I've already spoken to tho "forw lrds," so there is no need to repeat what I said to them. But tho "backs" must r< member three things—always run straight a load, never wait for the ball to bounce, aid above overylhing, don't pass the ball U another man unless ho is better placed tl an yourself. In defence thero is only o 10 rule —get the man with the ball, and >\ hen you got him, let there bo no misti ke about it—tackle him hard and low. The man who remembers those few things, e r en in tho hottest corners, is entitled to c .11 himself a footballer. That will bo all. G et into your positions—are you all ready ? light!" and with a shrill blast from the v histle tho practice had commenced. From his seat in the pavilion. Dr. Wingfi ;ld kept his gaze riveted to the darkh tired figure of young McShane behind the first fifteen's pack. From time to t me the headmaster's eyes sparkled in a iticipation of some clever move by the y 3ung "half-back," only to cloud over v ith disappointment as the chance was a lowed to pass. So it was throughout tho F ractice game. Football ability was uni cDubtedly there—the boy could catch, run, dodge, and tackle right enough, but a fital and inexplicable hesitation characteri ed McShane's play at the most critical noments. It seemed as though the boy r layed machanieally and with no regard to tie necessity of applying his whole mind tj the game. Certainly it was strange. "Well, McShane, I suppose your par-

ents will boat the Cricket Ground this afternoon?" said Dr. Wingfield, as he intercepted the boy near the classrooms next morning. "They will naturally bo proud to see their son" in the thick of the fight." McShane smiled wistfully. . "I cannot say whether they would be proud or not, sir," he said. "You see, I'm an orphan. My only relative—an aunt—is in Queensland," ho went on, "so there won't be any relations to see me play." There was a moment's silence, . during which the boy's eyes filled with tears; then —"lt seems hard never to have known my parents, sir," he went on huskily. "I sometimes think it would have made all the difference if I could have known my father. Judging hy his photograph ( We would have been great pals, I reckon." "I should liko to see that photo, my boy," said the Doctor, kindly. "Bring it to me in my study. I sha'l be disengaged during the remainder of the morning. Just call in before you leave for the ground." _ Seated once more in his "holy of holies, the Doctor listened amusedly to the excited bustle, and hum of conversation in tho square outside his window. The "drags" were duo at any moment now, and very soon tho be-ribboned throng would be on their way to the Cricket Ground to • see the long-expected struggle for football supremacy. "Come in, McShane," the Doctor called in response to a timid knock on tho door. "Have you brought the photo?" he inquired, as the boy nervously made his way into the room. "Yes, sir, here it is," was the reply. "It has become a bit faded, but, you see, it is the only one I have." Holding the well-thumbed piece of pasteboard up towards the light. Doctor WingHeld gave a violent start. It was a photograph of Jimmy McShane, Westleigh s hero of heroes. After all. the child had not died—he was hero ! "Jimmy's" son ! Rising to his feet, the Doctor approached young McShane, and taking him by the arm, led him to the mantel-shelf. Pointing to tho picture above, he turned to the boy and said, "There is your father my lad. Read for yourself, and see what a name vou have been, given to uphold." In that manner did young McShane first meet his father. , • Wherever schoolboys gather, their talk: will always go back to tho BlackwoodWestleigh football classic of 1923. Old players agree that the scene when Westleigh won the game by eight points to five was one of the most remarkable in their experience. The game opened uneventfully, and throughout the first half Blackwood got the ball from almost every scrum, and had the College team defending desperately. At the interval the score was five to iiil in favour of the Grammar School team which had enjoyed the help of a strong breeze. When the teams fanned out for the second term a remarkable change came over he scene. Westleigh began to "rake" the ball, and from being a comparatively dull exhibition, the game rose to the highest pinnacle of excellence. 'Throughout that memorable half-hour one figure outshone every other man on the field Young McShane, filled with the spirit of his brilliant father, played an inspired game. With the scores level, and time drawing near, the excitement was almost unbearable. Then came the bombshell! l'rom a "scn.m" near half-way the ball wa? heeled to the Blackwood half-back, who fumbled it in his eagerness. Like a flash McShane darted around the "pack" and toed the ball away from his opponent. J le .ding it like a champion, he sped away iato the open .with only tho "full-back" ahead Could he get through? Thousandi asked themselves the question and doubted the possibility. Approaching the last line of defence McShane swerved awaj ironi him ai':d jumping- iuto-his; Jap. speed, flow straight for the corner flag. Amid a thunderous roar from the well-nigh frantic spectators, the Westleigh boy beat ins pursuers to the touch-line, across which he grounded the ball and collapsed exhausted on the ground. ' Hysterical supporters shouldered the victors off the field ard besieged the dressing-room, hoarsely chanting the Lotlego anthem. It was tho greatest day in voung McShane's life, but he wished to be alone with hi? thoughts. Now that his task was over he felt strangely tired, and wanted to bo left in peace. Later that evening, Dr. Wingfield looked up at the picture of that gallant pupil ot other days. "He's a grand boy, Jimmy. the old Headmaster murmured in trembling tones. "It is strange I never noticed the resemblance before. Such football talent is not accident," he went on. it s bred in tho bone." And to the failing eyes of tho Old Doctor it seemed as though tho boyish face m the frame above was smiling more happily than ever. Perhaps it was! RESULTS OF FIFTH COMPETITIONS. SHORT STORY. Tho entries received were disappointing. Many of the stories were improbable and others lacked incident. Why not write of the present day and of local happenings? Use your imagination—but don't 1 >t it bolt with you I A worth-while short story should lead up to a climax, unless it is a fairy story or one of the "fanciful" tjpe. If you do not understand what I mean by "farciful," read the highly commended stories by Helen Shaw and Eula Arthur, published below. Doris Perkins, Browns (aged 12.} years), wim, the Ist prize af 7s 6d with "Prince Charming." Doris has sent in four or five little stories since this Page started, which show merit, and although she is only 12 yearß of age, I believe they aro her own unaided effort. If such were not the case, i am sure sho would write and tell me. The second prize of 2s 6d goes to Marjorie Forrest, 44 Grey street, Palmerston .North (14A years). Highly Commended: Helen Shaw, Slack's road, Palmerston North (14 years); Eula Arthur, 277 Main street W., Palmerston North (11 years); Aisla Varcoe, 24 Union street, Palmerston North (14 years); Verna Wright, 59 Waldegrave street, Palmerston North (11 years). Commended: H. Watt, 29 Carroll street, Palmerston North (15 years); C. Devereux, Round Hill, Southland (IS years); Catherine Snore, 78 Chelmsford street, Invercargill (15 years); Ethel Perkins, Browns (12 years); Mary Barker, Hunua Hills, Tauniarunui (10 years); .'Juris Gray, Glen Oroua (10 years). FIRST PRIZE STORY. "PRINCE CHARMING." Whenever Prince Charming stood by the sea shore ho was certain he heard a sweet voice sadly singing: "Time flies fast. 'Twill bo late, And helpless I! Oh, cruel fate!" At last the Prince could stan.l it no longer, and rushed away to consult the old wizard, Greybeard. "Oh, yes," grunted Greybeard; "I know all about her. Sho is imprisoned for refusing to marry the Sea King, and if not rescued' to-day it will be too late." "Then give me a charm which will enable me to stay under water till I rescue her," urged the Prince. "Umph!" said Greybeard. Will you give mo the. oak chest that tho Princess has with her? It[s full of gold." "Of course I will." "Suppose she won't lot you givo it away ?" suggested Greybeard, beginning to mix a charm in a crystal glass. "Sho will, I am sure she will. She would rather be free with no gold than married to the Sea King if she does not like him. Be quick! Be quick I" The old man mixed the draught eagerly enough now, and the Prince hastily swallowed the charm uud was off to his littla

sailing vessel. Quickly his men let him down over the side of the fillip, socurcly swinging from iron chains. There was no sweot singing to guide him. ■ . ' "Surely I am not too late," muttered the Prince, ns his feet touched the firm sand. Just then s ho noticed two little fishes swimming in front of him, and he followed them for want of a bettor guide. Sure enough, they swam straight on to where a pretty maiden sat weeping' by the side of a brown oak chest. ? "No dainties to-day, little fish," she said sadly, showing her empty hands. "All the magio food is gone I" "Don't cry," said Prince Charming gently. "Hasten with me; let us get away quickly." Princess Crystal sprang to her feet. Yes, yes, hasten—tho Sea King may come any minute to claim mo I'.', and she helped the Prince to fasten the chains securely round herself and tho oaken chest. Then tho Prince gave the signal and his men pulled thein all up. Crystal clapped her hands joyfully, as she drew in a long breath of fresh air. "Here comes old Greybeard for the treasure chest," laughed the men. "He is welcomo to it," said the grateful Princess, "if he helped to free me." "He did," tho Prince told her, "and I promised him the oak chest as- a reward." "Then come and take it," said Princess Crystal to Greybeard, who tugged it away with him, grunting with delight. That same night a great storm arose, and huge waves raced inland, and seemed as if they would beat the castle to pieces. At last camo one so high that it seemed to tower over tho building, and on its crest rode tho angry Sea King. But his fury was to no purpose; the rescue had been made within the stated time, and even he could not undo a charm when once it had been uttered. "Bo as angry as you like," the Prince cried gaily. "I have won my bride, and I mean to keep her." (Doris Perkins.) SECOND PRIZE STORY. "AUTUMN." ' It was Autumn. The fairies were at work helping tho trees make their garments, and under their clever fingersthe dresses were fashioned. Beautiful they were of a golden brown colour, sober in patches, but here and there bright with (lashes of scarlet, as if the trees " were loth to let Summer go. Perhaps : they were, for though Autumn is a beautiful season, yet there is always the sad realisation that after Autumn, Winter quickly follows. She is always trying to make Autumn hasten, so tllat she' can do lier work, and have her fling, for one grows tired of sleeping all the while. The fairies dressing Autumn were cunning folk, who believed in working at sunset,, scorning the proverb "Make hay while the sun shines," for they knew the Setting Sun helped them in their work, putting the finishing touches to it, and making it glorious. We mortals viewing the scene, call it beautiful, and that is but slight praise for it. The tall trues swaying to and fro in the breeze, the dazzling sun catching the colour in their leaves and making the tree-tops a blazo of light, while hiding, nevertheless, the gaunt trunks. On the ground are the fallen leaves, huddled into heaps by the breeze, there now to stay until they aro wafted away. Autumn does not always givo a promise of Winter, but in a way announces that Spring is at hand, thus deluding one into a false impression. Towards the end of Autumn, however, tho idea of Spring passes away. Colder winds spring up, the Sun no longer smiles cheerily, but hides its face under a veil, sending forth only a sickly radiance. Tho fairies, too, have vanished. No longer do they dress the trees, but are resting now for tho Winter. The trees stand forlorn and desolate on the mountain tops, stripped of their leaves; tho nights close in, and, without actually noticing it —behold, Autumn has gone, aud submerged in Winter. (Marjorie Forrest.) ' - HIGHLY-COMMENDED' STORY. ■ "How tho Snails were Punished." Over the old, sunny garden a large and velvety bumble bee was busily droning his way. Every now and then he would stop and pay his respects to some sweet-scented or gayly-ooloured blossom, and then fly on again. At last ho reached a beuutiful pansy patch and stopped to call on the queen of the pansy fairies. "Have you any messages for me?" asked the dainty little flower, for the big bee was the garden postman. "Oh, yes," answered he, delivering them. "But I came to tell you that last night I overheard those wicked snail brothers— Creep and Crawl —planning to bring all their tribe, tonight when the moon rises, to this pansy plot and eat you all!" "Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" wailed the pansy. "What can wo do P. Creep and Crawl are such great big monsters and we shall all bo eaien!" All the pansies then began to cry and soon the wholo garden was Ailed with the fragrant lamentation of the flowers, for all loved tho pansies. Then the bumble beo spoke, and at the sound of his pleasant, droning voice all the blossoms ceased to lament and listened to what he had to say. "I think it is about time those prize villains were well punished for all their misdeeds," said he; "so don't worry, little pansies. I will see that they do. not harm you. Forget all about thorn and enjoy yourselves this beautiful day." So saying lie buzzed away, and the flowers, taking his excellent advice, dried their tears. Meanwhile the bee was calling a great meeting of all his people in a far-off bluebell dell. He told them all about the snails' plot, and as they listened the bees began to buzz and hum in great anger. "They shall not escape this time. We will punish them as they deserve 1" And they formod themselves into a great army and. started for the old garden. If you had gone out into the garden that night you would have seen a queer sight. Every flower was awake and their soft whispers were all about. When at last the moon rose a great hush reigned, and then towards tho pansy plot an innumerable host of snails began to move. Just then a droning as of hundreds of wings was heard in the distance and it rapidly grew louder. Then dpwn upon the hapless snails there descended tho vast buzzing army. The fight did not last long. The snails were vanquished utterly, and they had been well punished. The victorious bees' wero soon winging their way someward again, and tho garden with a great sign of relief went to sleep. (Helen Shaw.)

HIGHLY COMMENDED STORY. "Bursting Pods." It was dawn. Away in tho east showed the deep red rim of the sun, tipping the hilta with liquid fire and turning the sky, to crimson and gold. Round the trellises in the garden hung a fonm of exquisite sweet peas, peeping shyly out of the pearly morning mist. Pink and blue and lavender they were, tipped with pale gold and sparkling with dewdrops. The long brown pods, gleaming like copper, hung full of ripe seeds, only waiting for the sun to burst them open. The morning passed. Early afternoon came, when life in' the garden was at its height, and the heat was greatest. A moment of tension, when all was still —then on every side could be heard the crackle of bursting pods, and the faint hiss of little brown seeds leaping through tho air. In a certain' pod lay seven wee fat babies. "Now be careful," said the mother, "and land where 'the soil is soft and damp and not too much exposed." Then the pod burst, and the seeds went flying through the air. Oh, the joy of the clear, sparkling air, and the warm, friendly sunbeams! The joy of sailing through space, even though it was only for a moment! Only four of the seeds fell on soft, damp soil. The last to fall was Fuzzy, the biggest of the seven. As soon as he landed he was picked up by the Brownies, and along with hundreds of other seeds was carried underground. At last he was lain on a bed of thistledown in a tiny round room, wßere he was to stay

all the winter. Suddenly he saw a tiny bug crawling over the floor. "Who aro you';" he asked. "My name is Slatey," replied the bug. "I am Fuzzy," said the little seed. From then onwards a firm friendship grew between Fuzzy and Slatey; with each other for company the long days passed very quickly. "Is it time for me to grow yet?"- asked Fuzzy anxiously one day. 'M- will go and see/' said Slatey. Soon he came back shivering. "The Snow is everywhere !" he said. So Fuzzy stayed underground. Several weeks later he sent Slatey up agaili, and this time lie returned joyous. "Spring is here !" he cried. "It is time for you to grow !" i It was autumn. The garden, mellow in the golden sunlight, hummed with life. Everywhere were sweet peas. Great clusters clung about the trellises, glowing with delicate loveliness. Up a bush covered with pink flowers a little grey bug was crawling up, up to the topmost flower. "So you have come, Slatey," said the flower. "Yes, I have come to see the pods burst." The garden was still; then the air filled with the sound of bursting pods, as another family of little brown se'?d» fared forth into the great world," (Eula Arthur). SILHOUETTE DRAWING. I am afraid that most of my childrf,n_ do not know what is a "silhouoUe" drawing. In not a few instances "profile" was confused with "silhouette." However, watch for tho reproduction of the winning drawing in this corner, and you will know next time. Ist prize of ss: "An Indian" by' Raymond P. Morgan. 451 Main stroet, Terrace End, Palmerston North (Hi years). 2nd prize of 2s 6d : Madeleine Borreson, 60 Alexandra street, Palmerston North (14i years). Highly commended: "Confidences' by Eula Arthur, 277 Main street, Palmerston North (11 years). "Five Graceful Figures" by Rita Clapham, 11 Snelson street, Palmerston North (14 years). L. Borreson, 60 Alexandra street, Palmerston North (15 years). • Commended: Zena King, 19 Church street, Palmerston North (13 years); "Kamerad," by Bob Pasley, 47 Linton street, Palmerston North (14 years). RIDDLE OR CATCH: Evidently some of you do not know the difference between a Joke and a Riddle or Catch, as I received "Crwpio" entries marked sth competitions. Please do not send in any more Riddlei or Catches, except when a competition calls for them. This week a iimall maiden wins the 2s 6d-Myra Baty (8 years "4 months), t*J Earn st., Invereargill, with ui» following: I am seen at night, behead me and 1 am as black us night, behead me again awf give me a tail and I am part of you. Aim. : Star, Tar Arm. * * * * * "A RIDDLE." (Sent in by Victor Sinclair, Pohangina (9 years). Four stiff standers; Four down hangers; Two look ups, ■ Two crook ups; And a gatherer. * ¥ * * * Other Riddles contributed were: — . ~ My first a needle has no doubt. Although it cannot see; - • My next upon a whip is found, With knots quite plain to see; My totid when you fall asleep Does cover up your eye. I' think I've told you quite enough. Can you tho answer spy Aus.: Eyelash. (Catherine Shore, Invereargill.) What word is that of four letters which, if you take away two, there will still romai.i four; take away throe and them w.i!l B remain .fi.v.oX.. . 'Au's. :* Five—take away'F and E you have IV; take'away I and) you have V again. (Mary Joyce, Palmerston North). • • • • Speaking of persons who' haVe educated themselves, I onoe knew a man who educated himself, and guess how the fellow spelt "Cat." J "Kat." ."No" "Catt." "No." "Kalt." "No." ..... "Give it up?" "Yes." "Cat." (Rona Perry, Glen Oroua.) What is the difference between a slapped child and a cloud? One pours with rain and the other roar» with pain.. (Ralph Holmes, Palmerston North.) What the poor man has, What the rich man wants. What tho deaf man hears. What the blind man sees. - Ans. : Nothing. (Ruth Christensen, PalmerEton North.)