Aunt Roberta’s Family

Manawatu Standard, Volume XLV, Issue 287, 7 November 1925, Page 12

Aunt Roberta’s Family

“AUNT ROBERTA’S LETTER.” My dearest Children, I am going to tell you something you did not know before. It is about the origin of the two minutes’ silence on Armistice Day, which, of course, as you all know, is on the 11th November. Over twenty years ago a young lad of eighteen years of age lived in Palmerston North. He was attached' to the staff of the New Zealand Times. Later he went to live in England and became a free-lance journalist to many of the large London dailies. In 1919 this journalist lay dying in a hospital near London, suffering from consumption. And it was then that he conceived a very wonderful thought. Ho realised what a splendid tribute it would bo to the great army of men, who had died in their country’s cause during the war, for the whole British nation to observe a few minutes’ silence at, the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. This very, very beautiful idea was so full of vitality that, when he wrote to the Press, they put the suggestion before the King, who passed it along to his Ministers. And eventually Lord Balfour arranged that the British Nation should observe a two minutes’ silence every Armistice Day. And so out of the thought of a broken and dying journalist—Edward George Honey—there grew the two minutes’ silence of a mighty nation for its glorious dead. Your loving “AUNT ROBERTA.” NEW SERIAL. “MADCAP BILLIE.” CHAPTER 2. Billy’s “Dreair, Billie with a great deal of unnecessary arranging of her scanty skirt, at lust managed to seat herself satisfactorily on the extreme edge of the table. Her skinny legs danglctt ’twixt table and lloor m a most uncomfortublo way. Her sister watched her. 1 Rose was huddled in a chair, with her short tat legs drawn up under her plump little bouy. Esther sat, bolt, upright, an anxious Irown creasing her forehead. She expected Pat to burst into the room any moment in search of the culprit, and scold them soundly all round. “I dreamt I was walking along a path like the bush track which leads to the falls,” Billie began to relate her “dream.” “On both sides lovely /lowers were growing—roses, big lilies, and those darling blue flowers we arc always trying to find in the grass —every sort of flower I’ve ever seen. They waved to me with their heads an’ called ‘Oh, stay with us’, and 1 wanted to play with them. But the wihd blew into my face, and I heard a deep voice say ‘\ on can’t stay with tho dowers, Billie, you must go on.’ Somehow after that I didn’t want to play with them very much. I ran along as fast as my legs would go, while the flowers grew more beautiful! I only wish you two could have seen them!” A pink colour, brighter than usual, was in the brown cheeks, and in the young face the restless spirit was replaced by a sweet tranquillity. _ “At last 1 reached a gate. It was made of saplings nailed together—and their tops were hidden in a big cloud away up in the sky. It opened; oh, so slowly—and, justi inside, was mummie dressed all in white, with such beautiful wings—like the angels in our holy picture book. She smiled at me as she used to before God took her away, and’ - and ,” Billio tried desperately to smother a sudden, unexpected sob, “t-t-t-hat’s all.” Esther stooped hurriedly to pick up the pencil that had fallen from her fingers beneath the table. Her soft blue eyes were full of tears. There was a DREADFUL ache inside her. She longed to feel her mother’s arms around her again, and to hear the dear voice say so lovingly: “My little Esther!” Rose gazed at Billie, wide-eyed. In her short life she had only seen Billie cry once. It had been that day (very lihzy in her baby memory) when they had all stood in tho tiny cemefftry, while her mummie had been put into a big hole in the ground. But even her daddy had cried than, and she had wept because she did not understand what it all meant—and she was very frightened. “Oo’so tryin’ 1 ” she gasped. “I’m not, you pig!” ' “I’Oo am a big tory, —me seed ’oor eyes all watenvy,” Rose returned, indignantly. “I’ll never tell you any of my dreams again as long as I live, you—you nasty creature 1” Billie cried, choking with a mixture of anger and of shame. Snatching up tho hated spelling-book, she flung herself into a chair.

surgeon had said, and Mrs Hall had frantically seized the frail thread of hope thrown to her. At first, mother 'and daughter had hated the lorfeliness of Wattawarra’s hills, but they gradually grew to love their life there — and tho comfortable weather-board cottage, sot in a garden t ahtjoined hands with the bush. Never had they seen such gorgeous sunsets! The sinking sun—a lurid flame — turned the trees that enowned the ridges, red-golden. And in the night-time they rose in graceful shapes - against tho deep blue of the sky, like groups of ghostly maidens that stood with their heads slightly bowed and their arms pressed close to their sides. The early morn was more wonderful still, with its pale shades of mauve and blue and pink—its thousands of birds that twittered love and joy, and its scented bushy breath. It was not strange that mother and daughter lived contentedly in this haven year after year, away from their many friends in Sydney, and never missed the luxury of their city home, which overlooked the blue harbour-sea. " When at length the life, that had been guarded from birth with such lovingcare, passed away, Airs Hall sold tho house in Sydney. She realised that she would never leave Wattawarra; its tiny, peaceful cemetery held something very, very dear. “Do not take mo back to the sea, mother,” Betty had whispered once during tho closing hours. “Bury me under the trees on the hill—l shall be happy there.” And the poor body had been placed in the ground beside Mrs Weston’s grave, over which tho grass had by that time grown thickly. When the three children opened the garden gate Airs Hall was standing on the verandah steps ready to welcome them. “Doesn’t she look sad—and hasn’t her hair got white!” Billio whispered to Esther, as they walked up the paths between the flower-beds. It was the first time that they had seen their friend since Betty’s death, and even their childish minds realised tho change in tho face they knew so well. “I am very glad to see you, my dearest,” Airs Hall said, kissing them tenderly in turn. she held Esther’s Flowcr-faco between her hands and gazed searchingly into it. “AJy bonnic girlie,” she murmured, “so like your mother —and yet there is a lciok of my Betty in your eyes.” With a sigh she turned to tho eldest sister: “Hasn’t my Billie grown since I saw her last! While as for baby Rose —!” And she held up her hands in pretended astonishment. She took the little hot hand in hers. “Come along, my pets, you must be hungry,” and, leading the way into the dining-room, which overlooked the garden, she gave them lemonade and cake. (To be continued.) CRISPIES AND RIDDLES. Q. What is the difference between a watchmaker and a gaoler ? Ans. One sells watches and the other watches cells. (Dorothv Windsor, Tauwhare.) * it * * * The Irish drill-master was taking the boys for drill. “What’s the matter with you all ? Your line is as crooked as .a dog’s hind leg,” he said. “Just you all fall out and take a look at, it!” (Ruth Christensen, 48 Botanical road.) * >fs # * * * Q. Spell enemy in three letters. Ans. Foe. 'Teacher to Tommy: “What is grass?” Tommy: “Grass is whiskers growing on the face of the earth.” (T. Guy.) * * * * * Jimmy was sitting on the doorstep playing with his marbles. After a while a man approached and asked: “Is your mother at home?” “Yes,” was the reply. The man rang the bell, but no one came to the door. So lie rang it again, but, still without getting an answer. After a third unsuccessful attempt he returned to Jimmy and said: “I thought you said your mother was in?” “So she is,” answered the boy; “but she doesn’t live here.” (Dulcic Ingley.) *****

Q. What made the penny stamp ? Ans. Because the threepenny bit. (Lilian Wheeler, Glen Oroua.) ***** Small boy discovered by fond mother holding up the luckless family cat by the tail. “You mustn’t do that, my dear!” Small boy’s reply: “This is the onlywav I can hold it—it’s the only foot without thorns in.” Johnny (sniffling! : “Teacher licked me ’cause I was the only one who could answer a question.” Moth'er: “That docs not seem reasonable. What was the question?” Johnny: “Who put the bent pin on teacher’s chair ?” (Winston Boag, 27 Rainforth street.) Q. What gets wet with drying? A. A towel. Q. What insect docs a blacksmith make ? A. Firefly. Q. What has four feet, yet cannot run an inch ? A. A chair. Dub: I’m going to marry a girl who can take a joke.” Kay : “Don’t worry —that’s the only kind of a girl you’ll got.” (Ethel White, 40 Ferguson street.) .** * * * One fine day two Americans, with a guide, .were walking down a street, when they cpied a shabby two-seater car. “I say,” one said, “a second-hand storekeeper wouldn’t be seen in that ear -in Now York.” Soon after a man came out and drove off. “Who is that man?” asked one. “Oh,” said the guide, with a smile, “that’s the American- Consul.” (W. Honey, 14fl Main street.) * « * * * An American and an Englishman were having an argument oil whoso town had the highest building. "Well,” said the American, “when we want the sun to shine we lake off a hundred storeys.” “That is nothing,” said the Englishman, “Once a child of two full off a top storey, and it died of old ago before it landed.” (Sydney Riddell. Pahiatua, Palmerston V North). • * • * • One day a little hoy was travelling ip a train. He had a very bad cold, and kept sniffling unpleasantly. An old lady, sitting opposite him, asked angrily: “Sonny, have you got a handkerchief?” IJtlle hoy, nervously: “Yes, man’am, but I don’t lend it to strangers. (Jean Scott, Bunnylhorpe.) * * * * * A little pronoun mot a lad and said : “I wish you’d run to hire a thing that carries twelve To miles for picnic fun. And then I want a garden tool, W’hich nowhere can I find; Go, take Inis shilling, boy for one Exactly to my mind. The pronoun, carriage, tool, will then, Approving what you’vo done, Present a favourite book to you, Now guess tlio name of one.’ Ans. : I-van-hoo. * (Nettie Clare, Carnarvon.) Roll Call: Dorothy Armstrong.

‘•Don’t 'oo want to kno.v my scek-et ?” Rose asked, after a minute’s stiormy silence had elapsed. She rubber her body against the back of Lillie’s chair in the manner of a kitten. But Billie began singing in a loud, rude voice—“Up in a bal-f) —oo oo— —ooon, bioys, Bailin’ round the moo —oo —ciohoon, Me father Kicked me out of bed, An’ said there wasn’t roo oo oom.” Rose, undaunted, skipped across the room to Esther, and whispered in her ear. “How lovely!” Esther cried, hugging her baby sister. “But you must gio out and play now, sweetie.” As Rose obediently trotted away, Esther flew across to Billie in a state of great delight. “Mrs Hall has asked us to tea this evening ! Oh, WON’T it bo simply Jovely ! The —the garden, the sweet little cakes, • the piano-Oh, EVERYTHING! Wo haven’t been to see Mrs Hall for ever so Jo;ig. 1&t says we can go.” At the news Billie sprang to her feet, eyes shining, and all her anger vanished. “Hurrah! Hurrah 1” she cried, and violently pounded the table until tlio pens flews up and the ink was spilled. This she sopped up with a piece of blotting paper, wiping her wet, inky fingers on the skirt of her dark-blue print frock. “Do you think she will play the piano for us after tea?” she said eagerly. “I don’t know—poor Betty hasn’t been dead very long, an’ p’r’aps Mrs Hall will be too sad, but,” hopefully, “wo can ask her, and .” “Ess, don’t speak another word!” • cut ill Billie. “I can see dad, like a long thin tree, coming up the orchard. It would kill me dead if I didn’t know my spelling —and lie made mo stay in.” CHAPTER 3. Mrs. Hall. ' Billie knew her spelling perfectly, for she had a very clever brain when she liked to use it, arid early in the afternoon the three sisters started for Mrs Hall’s place. “Mind you’re good, an’ don’t dirty ycr white frocks,” were I’at’s parting instructions, delivered from the wooden verandah steps of the cottage. She watched them tio the sliprails, her face banning with pride. “Couldn’t find three sweeter little girls unywerc —although, to he sure, that Billie is a hit of a devil at times —not in w’itcr, nor better ironed frocks,” sho murmured to herself with satisfaction, as she turned kitchenwards. Mrs Hall was one of the oldest residents of Wattawarra. After the death of her husband, eight years before, she had settled in the little bush town—just widowed —with her only child, a girl of fourteen years. Betty possessed a spiritual face and a body that had been crooked from birth. “Find your daughter a quiet spot in the bush, and she may live for years,” a great

■‘STRIVE HARD. AIM HIGH AND PLAY THE GAME.”

“It look like rain to-day,” said tho talkative milkman, preparing to fill a jug with chalky bluish fluid. “It docs,” said tho house-wife. “I wish it looked a bit more like milk. Blinks: “Your brother is a dentist, isn’t he ?” Jinks: ‘Wes, and he is so absentminded, too. The other day I saw him go up to his car, with a spanner, and he said:—“Now, don’t be afraid I’m not going to hurt you.’ ” An auctioneer was trying to sell a broken-winded horse. Tho animal was trotted round for inspection, then tho auctioneer said :—“Hasn’t ho a lovely coat.” Tho buyer looked at tho heaving flanks of the animal, then, said:—“Yep, his coat is all right, but I don’t like his pants.” (Ettie Rush, 314 Park road.) * * * * v Q. What flower should be in the Zoo? Ans. The Tiger Lily, of course. Q. How many sides has a perfectly round tin can? A. Two sides —the inside and the outside. (Olivo O’Donnell, 53 Bourko st., P.N.) * * * * * A'lother: “You haven’t washed your cars again this morning, Johnny.” Johnny: “You only told me to wash my face, and I didn’t know which my cars belonged tio—my face or my neck. (Alarjorio Knowles, 36 Bourko street.) * * * * * A small boy got himself into difficulties the other day through smoking. He was ut a railway station, and, going up to the ticket office, asked for a “half rrturn” to a town a little distance up the, line. “What! A small chap like you smoking?” said the clerk, noticing tho cigarette. “Whom aro you calling a small chapp I’m fourteen!” replied the hoy indignantly. “Very' well —full fare, please,” was the clerk’s answer. (Norma Wells, Whakarongo.) * * * * * Although I’ve neither legs nor feet, I’m only useful when I go. I have no tongue but vet I tell What hundreds want to know. Answer: A watch. (Alay Bowden, 31 Grey street.) * * * * * A lover and his lass sought a secluded lane, but to their disgust a small boy arrived there too. Said the lover: “Here’s a penny —go and get some sweets.” ”1 don’t want any sweets,” replied the boy. “Well, here’s a shilling.’ “I don’t want a shilling.” Then here’s half-a-crown.” “I don’t want half-a-crown.” “Well, what do you want ?” “I want to watch.”

What is the difference between a lion with toothache, and a burst cloud ? Answer: One roars with pain and the other pours with rain. Why is a coal miner like a canary ? Answer: Because ho is brought up in a cage and has to pick for living. What is the difference between a hill and a pill ? Answer: One is hard to get up and the other is hard to get down. (Dorothy Windsor, Tauwhare.) * * * * Diner: Hang it all, waiter! This is a bit hot! Here’s a bally caterpillar among the cabbage!” Waiter: “Your mistake, sir. That’s the pork sausage.” (Helen Shaw, Slack’s road.) "OUR MAIL BAG.” Len Philp: Well, I am surpised that you failed to see your name under the Roll Call two or three weeks ago. You have lost tfio chance of winning 2s 6d —for quite a long time, until your name is "called” again. Thanks for the riddles, Len. Reg Knight: I don’t think you quite grasp what I mean. Generally your entries are of a fairly suitable length for publication, but the sentences are not concise, and clear as regards meaning; they are involved and roundabout and too "wordy.” With care you would eradicate this fault —and then soar to the top of the ladder of success. Thanks very much for the competition suggestion, which I shall be able to use. You will see that I have adopted your previous one in this week’s competitions. Nory L. Bagnall: Yes, I expect you were delighted when you saw your drawing reproduced. Much love to you all. Ralph Holmes: Don’t tell me that you won’t have much time next year ior the competitions, as I shall be heartbroken! Thunks for sending along a Kcwpie—l am sure it will please some poor little sick child. You must be far above the average to be able to read Hamlet at your age. Best wishes for your success, which you deserve —and love to Rac and little brother. Arthur Pearce: So you and Ralph Holmes are great chums. I expect you have grand times together—sometimes. Thanks for the Is worth of stamps for a badge. You are ninth on my new list — which must total 30 before I can ask the badge-maker to proceed with another lot of badges. It will be some time, therefore, before you will get your badge, I am afraid. I hope you will try hard in the competitions and soon win another prize. Edith Cranton: I am delighted that you wish to become a member of the family—and have entered your name, etc., on my roll. Best wishes, Edith. 48th COMPETITIONS CLOSING DATE, WEDNESDAY, 18th NOVEMBER, 1925. EACH ENTRY AND ENVELOPE MUST BE MARKED, 48th COMPETITIONS. A separate sheet of paper must be used for each entry, bearing the name, address and age of the competitor. GENERAL POST. Such fun, children! Let's have a general post. Aunt Roberta will be the General Post Office and you can all post to her a Xmas Greeting, which she will pass on to one of her family, who, in turn, must write a very nice little letter to the sender. And if you wish to keep up a correspondence one with the other afterwards, well there is no reason why you should not do so, and by this interchange we can get to know each other better. And this is how we will do it. And to do it we must have a Competition. And the Competition is this: — Senior division (12 years and up to 18 years) : Set of three postcards, not larger than 5 inches by 3 inches. DRAWN AND COLOURED by the competitor, Ist prize ss; 2nd prize 2s 6d. Junior division (under 12 years) : Set of three postcards. Cut out coloured pictures and paste them on to drawing paper —same dimensions as above. Ist prize 4s; 2nd prize 2s. EACH COMPETITOR must put on the BACK of EACH CARD name, address and age. FUNNY SAYINGS OF CHILDREN. You must all have a “funny saying” of a little sister, brother, friend or relation to relate. MIND IT MUST BE ORIGINAL. 1 know of one tiny girlie, who, after her first drawing lesson at school, arrived home in a great state of excitement. She burst out with: “Oh, mummic, what do you think: I ‘writ’ a cut to-day at school!” . * Senior and Junior Divisions and two prizes each of 2s.

ONE LETTER DECIPHER PUZZLE. The following letters, inscribed on a stone tablet placed immediately above the Ten Commandments in the Tower of London, arc decipherable with only one letter : f PRSVRYPRFCTAIN VRKPTHSPRCPTSTN Senior and Junior division and 2 prizes each of Is 6d. COAIPETITION RULES. Cash prizes will be awarded each week. Boys and girls up to 18 years of age may compete’. Tho work will bo judged according. to quality. Due consideration will be given to the question of age of the competitor. Alarks will be awarded as follow:— To the winner of any competition, and for the one who sends in tho best joke, riddle, catch, etc 4 To the boy or girl who gains second place 3 Highly commended 2 Commended 1 A record will bo kept of the marks gained, and at tho end of tho year the following prizes will be given:— A handsome gold medal to the one who gains the highest number of marks. A silver medal to tho one who gains the second highest number of marks. These medals will be in addition to the cash prizes awarded each week of the year. Write in ink on one side of paper only. Neatness, good writing and punctuation will oount. Each entry must bo on a separate sheet, with name, age, date of birth, and address underneath it. All entries must bo your own unaided effort, except jokes, riddles, catches, etc. Drawings must be done in black ink, unless otherwise stated. Address all entries, letters, etc., to—- “ Aunt Roberta,” C/of “Alanawatu Evening Standard,” Palmerston North. . RESULTS OF 44th COAIPETITIOXS. Entries to the “BEST DRESSED KEWPIE” COAfPETITION (closing date 31st October) will be judged in a week or so, when the results will be published. VERSE. (Special competition for those who have never won a prize in the “Aunt Roberta’s Family” Competitions.) Verses were poor, but, of course, it is .difficult to write poetry. Bill Robjohns, Junior Division, who sent in an entry, has already won a couple of prizes in “Aunt Roberta’s Family” Competitions, so his entry was not in order. Jiohn Christensen, Senior Division, who was also a competitor, won a prize last week. SENIOR DIVISION: Ist prize (4s) : Patricia Hannan, 18 To Awe Awe street, Palmerston North (14). 2nd prize (2s) : Florence Robertson, Awarua Plains P. 0., Woodcnd (15j). FIRST PRIZE. “Night.” Tho twilight is fleeing fast, And pnoud night is come at, last. Now all things liave gone to rest, And a birdling in its nest. Cheeps a dreamy soft “Goodnight.” But from whence comes yonder light P Is it day returned so soon ? No, ’tis but the rising moon ! Queen of Night! Shining stars come out on high, Spangled gold across the sky. Whispering in poplar trees, Sighs the dying cv’ning breeze; And tho nightingale doth pour Sweet sad songs from out its store, Which lie yet upon the air— A sad note of myst’ry there,— Soul of Night! (Patricia Harman.) SECOND PRIZE. “The Daisy.” They might not miss the daffodil, In her golden glow; Nor yet, perchance, the hawthorn, In robes of speckled snow; They might forget the primrose, And violet blooming low; But the children would be weeping If the daisy did not grow.

They would sorely miss the bluebell, Wind-tossed to and fro; And from the emerald meadow The buttercups they know; And yet they would forgive them If they forgot to grow,— But the children would be weeping If the daisy did not- grow. (Florence Robertson.) JUNIOR DIVISION: Ist prize (4s) : Ray Puddle, Tangoio, Napier (9 years). 2nd prize (2s) : Brenda Hansen, Surprise Downs, Kapuka (11 years). FIRST PRIZE. “Mouse, Ben and Fluff.” There once was a mouse who lived in a barn, As no ono saw him lie came to no harm. Then one day while be was quiet on the floor A black cat named Ben strolled in at the door. Said Mousie to Ben: “I Won’t be YOUR tea!” As be whisked out quickly-—‘‘Goodbye,” called lie. Said Ben to himself: "That Was a fat v . mouse! I’ll tell my sister who’s down at tho house.” Then down the yard ran the black nigger Ben, When ho saw sister Fluff chasing a lien, “Dear Fluff in the barn a mouse I did see, — Be a good sister and' catch it for mo,” Said Fluff: lazy! I'm chasing this lion; Catch Mousio yourself or go without, Ben.” (Ray Puddle, 9 years.) SECOND PRIZE. “Queen Flora’s Picnic.” Queen Flora gave a picnic The first warm day in Spring, And all her guests came wearing The very latest thing. Miss Snowdrop came quite early— Her frock was white, you know, With green embroidered petticoat Just peeping out below. Sir Crocus wore gold sal in, But lie was hoard to say He’d cloaks of white and purple For later in the day. Miss Daisy, she came tripping, Afraid she might be late. Her dress of rose-edged chiffon, Very clearly up-to-date. Miss Violet joined the party; Her suit of softest blue Was freshly, sweetly scented And flecked with diamond dew. Sir Jonquil clad in yellow, His sister all in white, Tripping gaily through tho grass, With step so free and light. When Snow upon tho mountain A carpet whito had spread, Queen Flora and her Maidens Advanced with dainty tread. (Brenda Hansen, II years.)

THE LAND OF BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS. "THE MOTHER MOON.” ’“Mother,” asked Polly, as she was being tucked up in her little white bed one night, “what are stars?” ‘'They are Mother Moon’s babies; shall I sing you a litlc song about them ?’’ “Oh, please do!” And Polly snuggled her little black cropped head against the frilly pillows and closed her eyes. “A fairy brought a new-born slur To Mother Moon on high, Who said, ‘Mv babies soon will be Too many for the sky ! Their starry eyes they wink at me Like little spangles bright, I love them all, yet cannot count My babies, silver-white. I try to count them, every one, I’ve tried all thro’ the night, And yet, before I’ve scarce begun, Bright grows the morning light. I wonder shall I ever know How many jewel-eyes (All mine, and oh, how dear to me!) Are winking from the skies?” As (he last note of the song died away, sounding very faint and far-off to Polly’s ears, Mother disappeared, and Polly heard something bump on the bed beside her, •startling her so that she sat up suddenly, with very round eyes. And then Polly saw a tiny glittering star-baby at the foot of her bed, gazing solemnly and sucking its thumb —just like a real baby! It was so bright that Polly had to blink her eyes, as she managed to gasp “Who are you ?” “I’m one of Mother Boon’s babies,” the little creature replied. "I’m quite newly made by the fairies.” "But you can talk!” exclaimed Polly. “New babies can’t talk!” “Star-babies can.” "How did you get hern?” asked Polly. “The fairy who takes the neW-born stars to Mother Moon was carrying me,” explained the little star, “and she very carelessly dropped me down into your garden, amongst a bed of little pansy-faces, which all smiled at me, and a . tall Madonno lily bent down and whispered to me: “My little mistress is a sweet child, who never forgets to water us every day with a wee red water-ing-can ; I’m sure she will help you, if you are lost! Ho I climbed up on the window-sill and jumped across to your bed. Did I frighten you very much?” “A bit,” admitted Polly. “But what can I do to help you? Now, if I were a fairy, and had wings, I could fly with you to the sky. About a mile from here there is a very high hill, quite bare of trees and scrub; perhaps if we climbed to the tippest-top ot the hill, and stood on the tippest-top of the toppest rock, the fairy who dropped you might see you shining there, if she is still searching for you. What is your name, dear little star?”

“Why I haven’t been named at all yet!” * “Well, I mean to call you Spangles, ’cos you’re so glittery. So, Spangles, come into my arms and wo will climb over the window-sill into the garden. S-s-s-sh! Let us creep gently to wake no one !” It was so dark in the garden, with such mysterious shadows, that Polly’s heart went pil-a-pat, as she clutched Spangles tightly in her arms. Part of their way led them amongst tall gum-trees and through tangled purpled vines of flowering sarsaparilla, until at length they arrived at the foot of the tall bare hill, and commenced their climb. Little startled rabbits, their white furry tails showing plainly in the darkness, scuttled past them, and an old owl flew so near to Polly that she trembled all over. But she still kept on. till the tippest-top of the hill was reached, and they mounted the toppest rock. f "Seeing Mother Moon, a slendi-. and beautiful crescent in the sky, Polly held Spangles high up in her arms, as she stood on tip-toe on the high rock, crying “Oh, Lady Moon ! This is your newest baby—can’t you see her?” But the Moon was so busy trying to count her millions and billions of babies in the sky that she had no time to notice what had happened on the Earth. Presently a great stork flew down on to the rock beside Polly. ; “Whatever are you doing out of bed at this time o’ night?” he asked severely. “You should be asleep and dreaming?” '“I feel as if 1 am dreaming,” said Polly. “What have you in that bundle, Mr Stork.” “Twins!” said Mr Stork, lifting the bundle from his back and opening it. “A boy and a girl. I’m trying to find a suitable home for them, but it’s hard, I can tell you. I’ve made enough mistakes lately, and 1 don’t intend to make another with these children. They are quite the loveliest in my time ! Yes, and found homes for them. Fat babies, thin babies, cross babies, sunny babies, dark babies, fair babies, white babies, black babies-7-every kind of baby imaginable.” “How have you made mistakes, Mr Stork ?” "Well, last week I dropped a baby down the chimney of a house where there were twelve children already and a worried mother, wondering how she could feed them properly, while next door a childless mother and father with empty arms were longing for a baby to cuddle. I mistook the houses —I’m always making that mistake. Oh, dear ! Oh, dear ! I’m sure I’m going bald with worcry ! I must find a good home for these dear weo things; see their dimpled limbs and the yellow down on their heads, like a new-born chicken !” “Why, 1 will take you to the place with the bestest mother in the world!” cried Polly eagerly, “if only you will first take this star-baby to her mother !” “I never interfere with the star-babies,” said Mr Stork, shaking his head. “But 1 know the fairy who carries the newborn stars quite well. I met her only a short time ago weeping because she had lost .a baby star. “Shall I fetch her? Mind the twins!” and he flew off, while Polly kissed and cuddled the two pink babies, and talked to Spangles. “You have millions and millions of sisters and brothers,'”.she said, “and I have none at all. I’d bo so happy if Oh, here are Mr Stork and the fairy!” The fairy flew down and clasped Spangles joyfully in her arms. “Oh, you dear, dear little star ! What an adventure you have had ! Gome, 1 will tako you to Mother Moon!” i Spangles kissed the eyes of the sleeping twins to make them bright, thanked Mr Stork for his help, and turned to Polly, saying: "I shall smile at you every night, as you lie in bed. You will know me, for I will be the whitest star you can see from your bedroom window. Goodbye, goodbye!” And she and the fairy disappeared into the night sky. Tho Stork turned to Polly. “Now, child,” ho said, “it’s late, and I’m anxious to see you in bed. Where is this ‘bestest mother in the world?’ Climb on to my back and (ell me the way to fly.” Polly obeyed, and Mr Stork picked up the bundle of babies with his beak and spread his wings, and Polly hud a breathlessly lovely ride through the night air, as she directed him to her own home. “This is where the bestest mother in tho world lives,” she said, and then everything faded away and she knownothing .more till the sun streamed in through the window and she sat up, rubbing her eyes. She could not believe.it had been only a dream, though nurse laughed at her, as she dressed Polly in her little frock of pink smocked linen. But thero were no babies'! “I'm sure Mr Stork will put them down our chimney some day, mummy,” she said to her mother that day. “I will wait.” And suro enough when Polly had almost persuaded herself that it was a droam, two little pink, wriggling bundles found their way down into'tho house one night, with hair like the yellow down on a chicken’s back ! A girl and a l>oy ! And that night, as sho lay in bed. Polly noticed a very white, very bright star through her window, which seemed to smile at her and- say: “It wasn’t a dream, Polly !” Polly smiled happily and biew a kiss to Spangles.

“THE DOOR OF DREAMS.” Tho key lay glittering on the ground among tho lillics. In the distance a curved sicklo of new- moon swung over a line of dark young firs, outlining them against the soft sky, and flooding 1 tho beautiful garden with silver radiance. And among tho tall lily-stalks shone the golden key, and the little green door in the 3\ all, of Sleep was shut fast. The Dream Fjtiry sobbed beside it. her long hair of spun gold covering her face. Further along, and just outside the Garden of Twilight, a grinning, hideous gnome unlocked a little black door in tho wall and a troupe of ugly dreams sped out. No Beautiful dreams could pass that door, and the green door was closed fast. "Oh! Oh!” cried the Dream Fairy. “My key, my beautiful golden key. The children will have no beautiful dreams tonight, Oh, where have I lost it? Do you know- where my key is ?” she asked tho Roses. But the Roses whispered sadly, “No, not hero.” And “Do you know where my key is?” sho asked tho Poppies. No, no, not here,” wept the Violets. No, no, not here,” wept the violets. Then the Dream Fairy thought of tho Moon Goddess, and spreading her gossamer wings, she sped up, up until she saw her. “Dear Goddess,” sho pleaded, “you love tho dear little children on earth. Let them have beautiful dreams to-night. Help mo to find my key !” And the Goddess answered : “Bring mo a sheaf of lillies, Dream Fairy.” And the Dream Fairy flow down, down until she reached the Garden again and hurried to the distant lilies. One by ono she plucked them until at last the leaves of tho last one parted, and tho key lay revealed. With a glad cry she stooped and reached for it, and sped with light feet across the Garden to the little Green Door of Dreams. The hosts of beautiful dreams flocked out, and soon the Moon shone on the flying hair of the Dream Fairy as she danced joyously on the grass. BABY. Baby kisses soft and sweet, Clutching bands and kicking feet; Curving lips, so moist and red. Wide blue eyes and downy head. Rosy flesh with radiant glow. Dimpling smiles that come and go; - Roguish glances, swift embrace. Clinging arms and laughing face. Just a baby, soft and warm, Just a tiny, helpless form: ’Tis a wand’ring, wayward sprite. Dropped from heaven in the night!