Aunt Roberta’s Family

Manawatu Standard, Volume XLVII, Issue 237, 3 September 1927, Page 12

Aunt Roberta’s Family

AUNT ROBERTA’S LETTER. My dear Nieces and Nephews,— . 1 am sure you will enjoy reading the following “quaint facts” related by Ivy Miller: “There is a little fantail which sleeps on our vorandah. One morning I chanced to look out of my bedroom window; ‘Perky,’ as we call him, was flitting about, when he happened to fly over a pool of water. (It had rained during the nightV He saw his" reflection, and at once spread his tail and wings in a bewitching fashion and twittered to himself in a most ocncoited way. Another timo I was reading on tho verandah, and he was in a ' treo, preening his feathers. He began twittering to me (he wanted mo to notice how nice ho looked), and ho did not stop until I looked at him and spoke.” ~ Ivy has promised to toll us about her little fox terrier, “Pete,” who has very short legs and a long body. I knew a tiny girl who passionately adored all dogs and she used to imitate them. There was a big unused safe standing in a corner of the back verandah, and this she appropriated as a kennel, and would 'tie herself up with a real collar and chain, and imagine sho was a dog. In fact, I’m sure sho thought she w r as one! Sho would use her paws like a dog, when eating, growl and bark and sniff; it was a most wonderful imitation of the canine species. At last her mother began to get worried, as it seemed as if, sometimes, her little daughter really turned into a dog! So the “kennel,” and collar and chain were confiscated, and the child was broken of her “doggy” habits. I have read of two or three cases where children, lost in tho immense forests or jungles in other parts of the world, and subsequently discovered in the den. of a wild animal, have taken on the habits of their foster-parent wolf or panther or bear; all that remained to show that they were not animals was their resemblance to a human being. Strange, isn’t it? A small eight-years-old nephew, Mervyn Daleficld, sends “Aunt Roberta’s Family” the verses printed below. Mervyn says: “This little poem is taken from a ‘John OTiOndon.’ Perhaps some people who set traps for poor little rabbits will read tho verses and not bo so cruel to the bunnies again. They make such dear little pots.” Aunt, Roberta thinks Mervyn is a kind and thoughtful boy. “THE SNARE.” “I hear a sudden cry of pain! There is a rabbit in a snare. Now 7 I hear tho cry again, But I cannot tell from where. But I cannot tell from where Ho is crying out for aid, Crying on the frightened air; Making everything afraid. Making everything afraid, Wrinkling up his littlo face, And ho cries again for aid, And I cannot find tho place! And I cannot find the place Where his paw is in tho snare. Littlo one I Oh, little one ■' I am searching everywhere.” —J. Stephens. I was so pleased to hear (and I’m sure my big Family will bo pleased, too) from Phyllis Gillott that Grace Taylor went to a recent school ball as “Aunt Roberta and her Family”—and was awarded a special prize. Lots of grown-ups take an interest in “Aunt Roberta’s Family,” and it behoves each member, big and littlo to strive to keep the good name we havo got. If you always “play tho game” you will be happy—l’m sure of that. Whilst on the subject I would like tho “littlest ones” to know how glad and proud I am of my Junior Division. When Aunt Roberta first started t ocollect her Family, most of the talent came from the older girls and boys. But this year I have noticed a marvellous improvement in the efforts of the juniors. Heartiest congratulations to the smaller members of the Family. Laurence Bunn writes: “I congratulate Jailt Durham on his splendid work in the past competitions.” “Will you please congratulate for me all recent prize winners ? I think the juniors do as well as the seniors in some competitions,” are the remarks of niece Beryl Perry. Nory Bagnall thanks Nan Allison for the nice things sho said about her work for the page. A mistake was made in stating that Enid Ryan, Wairoa, “has now answered” to the Roll Call of 30th July. This should have read “has NOT answered.” JTust the difference of a letter—and yet it means so much! Mary Burrell, Omakere, has responded to the Roll Call of 20th August, and the special prize of 2s 6d has been mailed to her. Mary says: “It is a long time since I wrote to you but I still take a great interest in the page, and enjoy reading tho clever entries sent in. I wish ‘Aunt Roberta’s Family’ every success in the future. What & long letter this week! Yours lovingly,

rolling eye and tongue, was inviting Joy to a game round the gloomy walls of the cave.

“Wow-wow.. Jer-ee,”' crooned Joy, delightedly. The childish gurgle had scarcely died away when the father’s voice, flat and lifeless, said: “Well, I’ll be blest! There are no nuggets here—only stones!” “There MUST bo! Let me look!” Boy insisted, almost beside himself with disappointment. The light of'the three candles showed not gleaming jumps of gold, as tho children had pictured the nuggets but rough, plain, hard pieces of stone. Tho poor thing must have been not not quite responsible,” Mrs/Meredith whispered. She could have wept, in her bitter disappoinmont. Her son was fighting with his tears, blinking them away fiercely. “The nug-nug-nugGETS will be in the other caves,” ho muttered obstinately. His father, still with a curious dazed expression Hu his face, pressed his arm sympathetically: “No, my. son. I don’t want you to be disappointed again. There won’t nuggets in the other caves. I was a fool to havo. believed in their existence in the first place. It is what I thought—that poor creature was subject to delusions no doubt the result of the fever she had years ago.” Girl broke in, in a high whisper: • “P’r’aps the GOBLINS stole the nuggets!” “Perhaps,” her father said drily. Ho surveyed their dejected faces, his eyes suffused with love. “We must all bo valiant soldiers and face our disappointment bravely,” ho said. “Can’t we just go and look in the other caves, father,” Boy begged, his lips trembling. “Yes, if you wish it. We’ll go together. First, we will have luncheon on tho grass outside, and then mother and Girl can return home. It would bo too fatiguing for them to trapse the country on a wild goose chase.” The only two untroubled members of what, had promised, earlier in the morning, to be a blithesome picnic party, were Joy and Jerry. Moy and his father found the three other caves marked on the chart, one of which was the small, inner cave of tho big cavern where they had sheltered from the flood. In each was a wooden box whioli, on being opened, was found to be fillod with stones. • CHAPTER 24. The Last Mystery is Solved. It is very seldom that emotions last long with children. Their lives are made up of a quick succession of little griefs and joys. It naturally followed that a few weeks later Girl and Boy Meredith had almost completely forgotten their disappoinmtent when they found the nuggets were stones. The mine, upon being tested by an expert, proved to be nothing but a black, winding hole in the ground, which their father set the Chinaman to fill in. After tea one evening, yhen the dishes had been cleared away and washed up, and Joy had been put to bod, their mother completely surprised them by 6aying: “Your father and I are expecting a visitor to arrive the day after to-morrow, who may slay a week or longer. I’ll put a stretcher on the back verandah for you, Boy, as she will have to occupy your room. The weather is nice_ and warm so you ought to enjoy sleeping out.” “Scrumptious!” Boy agreed, while his 6ister asked: “Couldn’t I sleep out too, mother?” “No, my dear, not just yet perhaps later on when the summer is properly here.” “Who is the visitor?” Boy enquired! “An autie or .” . “An- uncle !” Girl burst in, and then bit her lip, looking foolish, as her parents and brother laughed. ( “D-d-d-don’t you know that an uncle is a man?” Boy cried decisively. “’Course I do. I only forgot for a second. You often make mistakes yourself.” “Oh, you story-teller, I don’t!” her brother retorted with heat. Their mother intervened: “The expected visitor is not a relation. As you both know, neither your father nor I havo relatives living in New Zealand. Mrs Foster is the name of the lady. Isn’t that correct, dad?” Their father lowered his paper and glanced at their mother. Boy intercepted the meaning look that passed between them. “Yes, Foster is tho name.” “What’s she coming to 6ee us for?” Boy asked, narrowing his eyes shrewdly. Before his mother could reply, his father said, putting the newspaper down on the table, “You ask to many questions my son. You would make a good lawyer.” “But he’s going to be a detective,” Girl said. Boy was suddenly seized with a feeling of indecision, as usual. Ho puckered up his forehead and mouth'querulously. “I I don’t know ! I though I’d like' to be a d-d-d'dctectivo, .but,” he halted, and then furst forth, “What pro-profession would you follow'if you were me, dad?” His father suppressed a 6mile. “When you are eighteen it will be time enough to decide. As soon as you go to college you will get quite different ideas.” . “I’m going too, aren’t I?” Girl asked anxiously. “Yes. You will both have to make a start next year. Mother says you are getting quite out of hand; you know too much for her.” Kind-hearted Girl suddenly remembered their lonely playmate. “What will poor little Polly do without us?” she asked in dismayed accents, “Perhaps,” said mother. “Perhaps,” echoed father. Then they both looked hard at each other, and Boy was sure he saw his father’s left eye half close in an almost imperceptible wink. Girl’s face grew radiant. “P’r’aps you mean she’ll go to college, too?” Her father twisted his lips in a funny way, while he nodded at mother.. “Perhaps,” was all he said. He went on; “We’vo wandered from the point. We want to make Mrs Foster’s visit as pleasant as possible. Now, I suggest that we invite Polly to tea the evening of her arrival.” Girl clutched him round the neck in delight. “That will be nice! Polly would just love it!” But Boy was watching his father with suspicion. Polly was only a poor little girl, and he could not see how her presence would help to make the visitor enjoy herself any the more. His father continued: “If you tell your friend Polly that we expect a visitor sho might feel too shy to come. So mother and I yant you to be sure not to mention Mrs Foster’s name —just run to the fence and invite Polly in the ordinary way.” “Her Aunt might not let her come,” Girl said, with an ominous shake of tho head. “Well then we’ll have to ask her some other time,” her father replied.' He raised a forefinger and shook it at them impressively: “You both understand that you are not to mention our expected visitor to Polly—or to anyone—until after she lias arrived?” “Yes,” they said in chorus. Boy wanted to get away by himself and think things over. Ho lad a hazy impression that the mysterious Airs Foster’s visit was somehow connected with Polly. He did not protest that it was “too early,” as he usually did, when, later on, mother said : “Time for bed, children.” He could tell by the creaking of the bed, heard quite plainly through the thin partition, that his sister was in bed quite ten minutes before he was. (To be continued.) “OUR MAIL BAG.” , J. ELLWOOD: The enrolment coupon is bo hand,'and your name has been entered on my roll. Please let me have your

'GLuujJz i^&bxbjL

- ENROLMENT COUPON. Cut out this Coupon, fill it in, *nd post to “Aunt Roberta,” c/o “Mana.watu Evening Standard." Palmeriton North. My Namo ia My Age 1* My Addresa is Aly Birthday is I read,.“Aunt Roberta’* Family.” “Aunt Roberta’s Family” Badges are obtainable at a cost of Is each (stamps or postal note). “THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF HAPPY VALLEY.” THE SEARCH. Chapter 23 (Continued). “My goodness! It’s a fact —then,” Mrs Meredith exclaimed, and the voices echoed her words indistinctly. Air Meredith, who had been bending over the box, straightened himself. “Yes, it looks like it, mother. The box is very heavy. I can scarcely move .it.” His voice was curiously strained and in the candle-light his face looked white. “Hurrah!” cried Boy. His feet clattered loudly ae he executed a wild dance. The 1 candle was propelled dangerously from side to side, the grease falling in big spots onto the stone floor.

“What are they like —let’s see?” Girl said with feverish eagerness. The goblins had disappeared, into thin air. “My dear little girl, I’ve got to open the box first.”

With the united help of all present, with the exception, of course, of Joy and Jerry, the box was pushed to the entrance of the cavern. Their father dived his hand into the basket aftd drew out a hanSluer and chisel. There was a sound of wrenching and tearing—and half the lid was off. Boy and Girl swarmed almost on top of their father as he' bent over the box of nuggets. Their mother craned her neck, mechanically holding a little hand that tugged to get away, . for Jerry, with a

OUR MOTTO: " CHARACTER AND PERSEVERANCE”

Christian name. Love and best wishes to a new member of the Family. LIONEL FUNNELL: Is your nickname “Barney” ? Your namo has been entered on my roll, and I am very pleased to welcome you as a member of the Family. I think the “Japanese Lantern” fancy dress was a very clever idea, and I’m not surprised that you won a prize. Love and best wishes to a little new nephew. RUTH CHRISTENSEN: Thanks for the competition suggestions. I like the first very much, and think it would mako a very interesting competition for the seniors. Do you mean for No. 3 “An Essay on School Days” ? Please let me know. ARNOLD DALEFIELD: Yes, your names are on my roll. Thanks for the quaint story about the calf which will be printed as soon ns space permits. LAURENCE BUNN: The drawings will be returned in due course. They are very nice.

PHYLLIS GILLOTT: Your entry is quite in order. I think the drawing is very wol done, indeed; the apples are perhaps rather paler in colour than real apples. You can always have any of your drawings returned if you send a stamped and addressed envelope. I was interested to hear'about the school ball. I note the funny saying was original. Please wish your brother “Many Happy Returns” for mo. Miko and Lizzie send theid love. MERVYN DALEFIELD: Thanks ever so much, Mervyn, for sending me tho verses. BETTY HANNON: I think the “quaint fact” about the canary is most interesting, and it will bo printed when there is space. The big kisses were sweet, Betty. PHYLLIS WINN: Now, Phyllis, what makes you think I’m a man ? Wouldn’t I be “Uncle Robert” in that case? Miko said to tell you he is turning over a new leaf! Much love. DULCIE JOHNSTON: The “exciting ’ serial will finish next week. Then there will be more space for competitors’ own efforts. Lizzie says she doesn’t mind what sort of kisses she gets—as long as they are kisses 1 BERYL PERRY: Iwa beginning to think you had quite forgotten mo. I’m glad you like the idea of short stories instead of a serial. The. sentiment of “Little Things” is indeed beautiful. I will find a corner for the verses in “Aunt Roberta’s Family.” They are well-known. You have 17 highly commended and commended marks. Lovg and best wishes. D. GOODALL: I am very pleased to welcome you as a member of the Family. Please fill in and sond me the enrolment coupon, so that I can enter your name on my noil. I want your Christian name. In the “Girls’ Names” the letters forming' the names follow ono after the other. AUDREY DRUMMOND: Many happy returns of the 19th, Audrey. You are indeed a lucky girl to have so many lovely present. I have not read any of mother’s serials —but all the same I am most interested. , , , , , MARY BURRELL: I am glad to hear you still take an interest in “Aunt Roberta’s Family” page. Your good wishes are much appreciated. Did you know that you have 22 highly commended and commended marks to your credit for a long time now ? Love and best wishes. . NORY BAGNALL: Dorothy’s entry was in time; it is very nice—and I compliment you on your sketch, which is excellent. Lots of love to all. “A SUNBEAM”: Poor little girl, it must be very hard to.be bright and cheerful when suffering from the mumps. Mother has my deepest sympathy in having to Look after four stricken ones—and one a baby. i 62nd COMPETITIONS. . . I CLOSING DATE .WEDNESDAY, 21st SEPTEMBER, 1927. EACH ENTRY must lie on a SEPARATE sheet of paper (written on one side only), bearing the name, ago and address of competitor. ’ Each entry and envelope' must be marked “62nd Competitions.” Senior Division: ' 12 years and up to 19 years. Junior Division: Under 12 years. Address i entries, letters, etc., to “Aunt Roberta.” SHORT STORY. A prize of 5s will be awarded to the member who writes the best short story. _ The work must be tho competitor’s OWN UNAIDED EFFORT, and tho story MUST NOT EXCEED 750 words. Tho Juniors are invited to compete, as ago will be taken into consideration. Good stories will be highly commended (2 marks) and published if space permits. LIST OF AUTHORS (suggested by James Bell.) See who can make tho longest list, ot authors. Names are to be counted and the total shown at the top of the first sheet, beneath the name, age and address of competitor. , , Senior and Junior Division and a prize each of 2s 6d. BEST HANDWRITING. (Suggested by Marion McLean). Write in your best and neatest handwriting the four verses entitled “The Snare,” which appear in Aunt Roberta’s letter this week. Junior Division: First prize 4s; second prize 2s. MAP OF NEW ZEALAND. (Suggested by Ethel Procter and Florence Baxter). Draw and colour the North and South Islands, putting in chief towns, rivers, mountains, etc. Senior Division: First prize 6s; second prize 4s. RESULTS OF 59th COMPETITIONS (Continued from, last week.) MY FAVOURITE SPORT. GIVE ME AN EXCITING GAME OF HOCKEY. My favourite sport has been condemned as too rough and strenuous for a ladies’ game but. it is the sport which gives me tho preatest pleasure. Tennis is enjoyable in the warm days of summer: basket-ball and golf are mildly exhilarating, but give me an exciting game of hockey on a keen winter’6 day. > Hockey helps to make a player hardy, to take a beating like a true “sport,” and to accept unquestioningly tho decisions of the referee. These help to discipline the wayward spirit, and make the Gamo of Life easier, I think.

When a team joins in an association competition, it travels to districts which until then, eprhaps. were comparatively strange to the players. Thus they beeomo well acquainted with the surrounding country, besides meeting the players of the various teams, which allow them an interesting few minutes of studying new faces and personalities, and making new. friends. Hockey has its amusing side, too. (This from a spectator’s „point of view). Sometimes a heated but heroic player will raise her stick to give the ball a mighty hit, and bringing it down with force to hit the ball will miss it and merely mutilate the atmosphere. This proceeding will give the unlucky one’s “barrackers” a feeling of exaeperation, the opposing side’s supporters enjoyment. Occasionally, a will get struck by a soaring ball and sit down and havo hysterics despite her side’s assurances that “it’s all right.” The spectators think it all wrong till she hops up ill a few seconds and resumes, the game with all her former zest; and then a reaction sets in! Again, a player, slightly more courageous, will get a hit on the ankle, and will stand on one foot like a. stork, twine the injured one round it, lean on her stick, and give vent to fascinating (?) facial contortions and uncontrollable gasps to ease the pain. When the competition matches are over, friendly matches are often indulged in,

tho most popular, perhaps, beinga game with the young men of tho district, who, clad in spectacular feminine apparel, tear after the ball like greyhounds after a rabbit, with their sticks waving in the air on a line with their shoulders from which unlawful elevation they bring down with ungeritlemanly disregard for any fairankles that might be hovering in the •vicinity. I regard hockey as a first class winter sport. It develops the muscles of the arms and legs and strengths the respiratory organs ; it inspires one with the ambition to do one’s best and be on the winning side, and, last but not least, it tends to creaio a friendly and sporting spirit among its devotees. (Isabel Egerton, 17 years.) CRICKET. My favourite sport is cricket. It is a fine healthy sport, good for ono mentally as well as physically. It is not such a rough' and tumble game as football, but ,a clean open game. Wlion playing it one has all the advantages of football \ or any other games, and a bit more. A person has to. have a quick and clear brain to be ready for any sort of ball which is sent down by tho bowler. The player also has to notice where he can place most suitably. Then cricket also includes running, either when batting or fielding. It is for these reasons that cricket is my favourite sport-. " (Keith Harris, 13 years.) SWIMMING. Tho sport I love best is swimming and bathing, because in the summer wo can go down to the river and cool ourselves in the water. It is good for one and makes one clean and healthy. . , One day I went down to the river for a swim. The river is only about half a mile away. I got on to a big poplar tree that was lying in the water. One of my friends told me to jump into the water and learn to dive. „ I like to swim races with my brothers. Sometimes we put a log into the river and throw stones at it. We wade up some littlo streams and find their sources. I like to feel myself going through the water. (Ronald Bunn, 9 years.) - RIDING. Of all sports riding is my favourite. We have a Shetland pony each and we like riding them. Prince, my pony, is only half broken in, so I ride Dinah, my brother Alan’s pony who is the quietest. I really cannot ride'well, but I get on the ponies all the same. Grandfather says a few falls make ono careful, and I agree with him. One day I came off six times, but I was hurt only once, when I shot over the pony’s head and it stepped on me. However, I was not hurt much and got on the pony again as soon as it became less excited. Riding is a splendid exercise. Mother says I have been more healthy since I started to ride, and I feel better myself. I like ponies and they like me. Sometimes I give them apples and sugar. I never ill-treat them because it make them stubborn and unfit to ride. I am going to learn to ride well, and it will not take long, becauso I am quite accustomed to the saddle now. (Laurence Bunn, 10. years.) ROUNDERS. My favourite sport is rounders. We havo a team at our school, of which we are very, proud. Three times they have won the banner. How we love to play rounders on a cold wintry afternoon, and how muddy we get sometimes! But it’s ull in the game 1 I prefer • rounders to any other school sport because it is played outside in the fresh air and because it is such good exercise after being in school at lessons all day. ’ (Betty' Hannon, T 1 years.) ■ FOOTBALL; I like football best because you have to run about and kick the ball. ■ We play football at school, and.find.it great fun. We only have four boys on each side because there are only a-few boys at our school. We play Rugby because wo cannot play any other kind. (Vic Montgomery, 9 years.) ORIGINAL VERSE. HIGHLY COMMENDED. “The Wind.” The wind is a roaring, blustering fellow — A gay scamp wild and freo, A creature of many caprices ■ Oh, a mischievious fellow is he. He puffs and blows o’er hills and dales, And scatters' the leaves far and wide, Whilst with his shrieks and noises He rouses the whole country-side. And then becoming tired of his play, He settles for a while to rest, And people wonder if he’ll blow next day Or if he’ll go a-scurrying to the west, 1 (Margaret Forsyth, 13 years.) “The Wind.” Tho wind in gentle mood is softly sighing . A sweet and dreamy song; My heart keeps tunc with its music, All the day long. The wind in angry mood is wildly rushing Moaning through the trees, Filling the air with a wild, loud song, Like the sound of tempest seas. (Evelyn Bentley, 12 years) “The Wind.” Have you ever heard the wina Rush and roar ? Have you ever heard it moan On the shore ? Don’t you sometimes wonder Where it goes? Have you ever seen it Blowing people'6 clothes? But sometimes it is quiet, As if at rest, And sometimes it- is rowdy It likes that best. _ . (Annette Bristow, 11 years.) “The Wind.” Oh the wind is blowing. While we are mowing; The grass is quivering, While we are shivering; It is cold under the trees In tho blustering breeze. (Eight-year-old Audrey Baiker.j ROLL CALL: Keith Harris. HIGHLY COMMENUnI.—PREVIOUS COMPETITION. “THE PROMOTION OF O’SHEA,P.C.” (By Jack Durham, 15 years.) “Really, Mr O’Shea, it’s most annoying, especially as I take up poultry farming on a large scale. And I should be much obliged if you in your capacity of policeman, would help me to discover” —with a fierce contraction of the brows —-this audacious egg-thief.” “Quite so; quite so,” said P.C. O’Shea hastii3 - . “But if I might venture to ask,” he added hesitatingly, “er —inn—why do you solicit my services, since you and I nave never been—well—um—what might be called amicable?” “Yes, yes, but surely you can accept my apologies for my past behaviour and let bygones be bygones.” “Certainly, Mr Harris, certainly.” Thus arose the incident which P.C. O’Shea was long to remember to his sorrow. The same day as the ' event recorded above took place, Mr Harris interviewed

Sergeant Williams and made the same request of him. “Then it’s settled. You 11 be along at twelve to-morrow night. Good afternoon.” And Mr Harris took his way home, feeling very pleased with his s strategy, his plan and himself. The next morning he called O bhea to the fence and, after _ bidding him good mornirfg, and commenting on the weather, said: “About the stealing, Mr O’Shea, are you free this evening?” Having received an affirmative reply, ho proceeded, Then, could you come over at half-past eleven. Go quietly to the fowl-house, the gate of which will be unlocked. You can hide anywhere in the shadows—the electric light will bo on; I always leave it on at night, for Mr Harris was nothing if not thorough. “Better results are obtained, ’ he explained. So everything wae arranged. The clock had just chimed the half-hour past eleven when a shadowy figure crept along the shadow thrown by the fence, bounding Mr Harris’s property and opening the gate of a large out-building, crept insido and closed it carefully. Once inside, Constable O’Shea looked around the up-to-date fowl-house in which he stood, and spying a recess in the shadows wormed his way into it. A little after twelve the same evening, another dim form, belonging to Sergeant Williams, stole furtively up to the fowlhouse, and with equal caution let himself in. Strange events! '. ' ' Having closed the door, he straightened himself and looked round as though expecting a man to spring , up through the floor. Then, keeping in the shadow, he tiptoed down the long avenue between the hundreds of nests. Suddenly he was seized, a sack was thrown over his head, and as he fell to the ground' a bifrly forhi fell on top of him and manacled his wrists neatly. Then, breathing heavily, .Constable O’Shea who, you may guest was the assailant, hoisted his burden on his shoulder and made his way -with difficulty towards the house wherein a light still burned. He deposited his prey on the verandah, and knocked at the door. No reply. Neither did anyone answer his further and more urgent knock. So, making his way to a telephone box, he ’phoned for a taxi, which, arriving in due course, bore victor and vanquished to, the police station. “I’ve got Mr Harris’s thief,” he replied to the other policemen whom ho mot. “Come an’ help us with him; ho might be troublesome.” . Thus, at last, after a great deal' of untying and cutting the sack "was lifted from the body of the thief—to disclose the halfsuffocated, purple, infuriated visage of Sergeant Williams, O’Shea’s, arch-enemy, ho who had a score of times used his influence to prevent O’Shea’s promotion (for even policemen are human and have human vices). With a dismayed, “Oh, Lor!” O’Shea, the ambitious, he who had expected promotion for the capture of the thief, turned and fled. Mr Harris was about, to go to bed. He rubbed his hands meditatively. “That’s one for O’Shea,” he soliloquised. Next morning Mr Harris received two black eyes, the Commissioner of Police revived O’Shea’s resignation, and O’Shea received a letter informing him that his resignation had been accepted. ‘How are the mighty fallen.’ CRiSPIES AND RIDDLES. ’ “Fred said he talked to. your brother till he was blue in the face.” “Oh no, just aiound one eye.” * * * * * * A Scotchman was leaving on a business trip, and .he called back as ho was leaving: “Goodbye all; and dinna forget to tak

little Donal’s glasses off when he isna lookin’ at anything.” * * * .* * “‘Say, Cecil, what would , you do if you were in my shoes.” ; “Get # # -“Hasn’t Miss Oldun got searching eyes?” “Well, I don’t wonder shes been looking for a hundred for twenty , years.” ; « • * ' • » • ■ Joe: “Why did Coris break' off her engagement with that poet chap who wnoto such lovely blank verses?” Flo: “Because she met another man who writes- still more lovely blank cheques.” .- ’ *.** * * * “Well, John, did you take the note I gave you to Mr Smith?” , “Yes, sir, I took the note; but I don t think he can read it.” “Cannot tfead it! Why so John, “Because he is so blind, sir. While I were in the room, he axed me twice where my hat was, and it wero on my head all the time.” - ' **** - * * Although he was nearly eighty, it was the first time he had been to the seaside. It was night-time, and, sitting on the verandah of his hotel, he saw the winking beam of the light-house. He watched it for some time and then, “How patient sailors are !” he exclaimed. “Why?. - How do you mean?” asked, his son. “They must bo my boy, for the wind has blown that light put eighteen times—and they have again every time !” •School Teacher: “I am quite put out with your boy. He couldn’t tell mo tho date of the death of George IV.” -The Mother: • “Don’t bo too- hard on him; wo never read the newspapers.” ****** This is a good trick to try on your friend when he comes oyer for a game. Tell him you can take him into a room, .and place his finger on his nose in such a way that he cannot walk out without removing his finger. Ho will think this impossible, a'nd a6k you to try it. Take him in and put his arm around the table leg, then put his finger on his nose. He is now in a position that he can’t leave the room w : thout taking his finger off his nose. •*-* * * * Stage Manager: “Why do you always say ‘Bah!’ in your part?” Villain: "Well, I’m supposed to be the black sheep, aren’t I?” * .■ ;•- . * ' * ' * * Mrs M. Banter (to pawnbroker): “Oh, Mr Popps, Avould you mind sprinkling this moth-powder now and again on that furcoat of mine I left with you?” * * * *' * * “A man is known by his works,” declared the irrespressible reformer, who was addressing a large and enthusiastic audience. “Your’s must bo a gas works !” shouted a rude, uncultured person, who occupied a back seat. . > *’** * . * * Light Horse Sergeant (losing patience with trooper who is washing a horse): “Never approach horses from behind without speaking to ’em. If you do they’ll kick yer in yer thick ’ead, and in the end we’ll have nothing but lame ’orees in the squadron.” An Irishman was asked to play for a village Soccer team. The first shot at the goal he allowed to pass him. The captain of the team running up to him, said: “You are there to stop the ball not to look at it.”

Tho Irishman replied, “Begorra, then what’s the net for?” -•« >. •