Aunt Roberta’s Family

Manawatu Standard, Volume XLVIII, Issue 45, 21 January 1928, Page 12

Aunt Roberta’s Family

AUNT ROBERTA'S LETTER. Dear Girls and Boys, There are such a number of nice comments this week by members of the Family that I don’t know if I shall be able to find spaco for them all, but I’ll try. I feel very happy because it is plain that my children are taking a great interest in “Aunt Roberta’s Family.” Arnold Dalefield writes: “Can you find room on Our Page for this Rud.vard Kipling poem? All lovers of the garden will appreciate it, I’m sure: — . THE GLORY OF THE GARDEN.

saw “Daddy Long Legs” on the screen once; it was tho nicest picture I have ever seen, I think. " I hope you have a lovely holiday among tho mermaids. “JUDY”: Such a nice long letter. I’ve only had my hair cut during the last 18 months —and have been sorry ever since. You aro a regular Sherlock Holmes I You have puzzled out tho nom-de-plumes correctly. But I don’t think you will ever discover who “Huia” is. Lots of love to you all.

HAZEL ROWLAND: You are very welcome, Hazel. Your name has been entered pn my roll. I liko swimming very much.,, Yes, the weather has been perfect lately, I think. Love and best wishes to a new member of the Family. “CHEERIO”: I am very pleased to welcome you as a member of tho Family, and your name has been entered on my roll. Always- remember to sign your own name as well as your nom-de-plumo, as I do not keep a record of the nom-de-plumes. The good wishes are heartily reciprocated. Your handwriting is like an old member’s of the Family.—Helen Shaw. HELEN CORMACK: I was only thinking of you the other day and wondering what had become of you. So pleased to hear you have not deserted us. You did very well indeed at High School. Love and best wishes. , MARAGARET HENRY: I am so sorry to hear you will not be able to send m any more nice stories. However, there is somo comfort in knowing that you will write to me sometimes. The little card and original poem are very sweet. Best love. BRUCE CARSWELL: So pleased to hear from you again. I thought quite lost interest in the Family. Best wishes. RITA WALKER: As you are now 12 years of age you are in the Senipr Division, and are not, therefore, eligiblo to compete in the “Best Letter” competition. Your entry has been handed over to Lizzie who sends you her best thanks! NELLIE O’BRIEN: I’d like to see you, too, little Nellie. Perhaps I shall someday. I saw the circus and thought it was great fun. Lots of love. . ANNETTE THOMPSON: Ena has just gained another prize of ss. You have 23 H.C. and C. marks, so it will not be long before you also will be a lucky little girl. Lots of love. PHYLLIS WINN: I’m glad you were not disappointed in my photo. One could scarcely term drink a “pest;” the correct definition is “an evil.” However, I see by the entries that others have made the same mistake. Since receipt Of your kisses “Charlie” has not ceased to wag his crocodile tail! Much love to a most faithful "'nESSIE SCOTT: Nory Bngnall tells me that she has lost your address which I am passing on to her, as you will see. No doubt any letters will be forwarded on to Waipiata, where I hope you will soon got strong and well. Thanks for the pretty card. Much love and sympathy, dear. WINNIE CORMACK: Ypu are very welcome, my dear, and your name has been ente r ed on my roll. You write like your sister Helen. Always sign your own name as well as your nom-de-plume when sending in entries to the competitibn. Love and best wishes to a little now meinbei. “MAUREEN” : Your name has been on my "roll for quite a long time; you were onlv 11 years of age then. Thanks so much for the pretty little card. Lots of love and best wishes. NORY BAGNALL: I know New Plymouth and think it is a very pretty town. Tho mark has been transferred to Dorothy. That must be a marvellous little book von have. My ambition for many years has been to have a book published, but so far I confess I have failed. Sto few enter for the drawing competitions that it is scarcely worth while having one, except once in a while. Nessie Scott’s address is 49 George Street, Invercargill South. See my remarks to her, as above. Best love, Nory. ETHEL PROCTER: No, if you haven t any Indian ink it does not matter, I like the name of “Diana” for the little black kitten. I agree with your mother and father that parents cannot be too careful in these days of so many accidents. Lots of I! °LILLY MONTGOMERY: Oh, you poor things! How on earth did you all manage to get the measles at Christmas time. How unfortunate! However, I m glad you are quite well again by this. Yes, I do indeed think Vic ought to write me a _big, fat letter to make up for so much lost time. The kisses were very sweet. Lizzie and Miko send their best love 1 MARJORIE ROWLAND: Is Hazel the cousin you mention in your letter < You must bo enjoying tho swimming these days. I hope you have a lovely holiday. Lots of IO E°bITH FRASER: I am delighted to welcome you as a member of the Family, little nine-year-old,. and your name has been entered on my roll.

Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made By singing, “Oh, how beautiful,” and sitting in the shade, While better men than we go out and start their working lives At grubbing weeds from gravel paths with broken dinner knives.

There’s not a pair of legs so thin, there’s notf a head so thick, There’s not a hand so weak and white, n,or yet a heart so sick, But it can find some needful job that’s crying to be done, For the Glory of the Garden glorifieth everyone.

Then seek your job with thankfulness, and 1 work till further orders, If it’s only netting strawberries or killing slugs on borders; And when your back stops aching, and your hands begin to harden, You’ll Jind yourself a partner in the Glory of the Garden.

Oh, Adam was a gardener, and God who made him sees That half a pnoper gardener’s work is done upon his knees; And when your work is finished, you can wash your hands and pray For the Glory of the Garden that it may

not pass away; And the Glory of the Garden it shall never pass away.”. <

Here is an extract from a letter received from an old-member, Bruce Carswell: “Altluough I have not written to you I have rarely missed seeing tho Page. This coming year I hope to take a more active interest in tho Competitions, as I will not have to sit for so many exam's. I wish to congratulate all tho prize winners, also you. Aunt Roberta, fpr the splendid way in which you have kept the Page.” , ~ •You will all be sorry to hear that Margaret Henry will be unable to delight us with any more stories in the future.. She wishes members of the Family a ‘ joyous New Year.” . • „ “I liked Daphne Gutzcwitz s Xmas story very much. Although I have not had time to compete in the competitions lately I have never missed reading the Page once are the remarks of Catherine Ferns. Congratulations for the year s (1927) prize winners from “Mayflower” who thinks their work was splendid. Another old member Helen Cormack says: “Never once have I lost even a tiny scrap of interest in Aunt Roberta s Family page. I admire the work done by thq clever members.” A new 17-year-old member writes: 1 have often read your Page and enjoyed it. Some of the essays have been very good. Ruth Christensen’s essays are always well worth reading.” Hazel Rowland, also a new member, says: “I think Aunt Roberta’s Family is the nicest page in the paper, and a week seems quite a long timo to wait for the next page. 1 liko Eula Arthur’s stones very much. 1 lease congratulate her for me. I used to go to High School with her.” “Judy” writes: “There has been some really excellent work in Aunt Roberta s Family page lately, and I think we are all very lucky to have such a splendid page. The medal winners and also the book prize winners did splendidly, in my opinion. “Thank ‘Porthos’ for saying those complimentary things about my story. I thought his poem about the bells was distinctly absolute.” These are the remarks of Lula Arthur. .. , , . ■ ... “Huia” apologises for not having written to Phyllis Winn yet, but what with .“exams, and one thing and another,’ Hum had not found time. He says: If she will pardon me I will bo only too glad to correspond with her.” , Annie Blondell, Oreti Plains, has responded to the Roll Call of the 31st December, and the half-crown special prize has been mailed to her. yOUR OWN,

'QajujJc

ROLL CALL: Harry Howl.

MEMBERSHIP PRIZE OF 10s. A prize of 10s will be given to the girl or boy (whose name is on “Aunt Roberta’s Family” Roll) who sonds in the most names of NEW MEMBERS by the 31st March next Those new members must be six v£rs of age or over. Each ENROLMENT COUPON MUST BEAR THE ENDORSEMENT of a parent, guardian or a school teacher as to its being authentic. The winner of tho prize must secure at least ten names. ENROLMENT COUPON. Cut out this Coupon, fill it in, and post to “Aunt Roberta,” C/o Standard” Office. My name is My Age is My Address is My Birthday is I read “Aunt Roberta’s Family” Page. Signature" of Parent, Guardian, or School Teacher - “Aunt Roberta’s Family” Badges cost Is each (stamps or postal note). CORRESPONDENCE CLUB. CATHERINE FERNS (14 yars), 9 Ayr Street, Invercargill, would like to correspond with someone about her own age, preferably someone who lives in the country. OUR MAIL BAG. “MAYFLOWER”: So pleased to hear from you again. I will try to make use of the competition suggestions, but I have a lot on hand. You have 26 H.C. and C. marks. Miko and Lizzie were so pleased with the kisses. Lots of love. CATHERINE FERNS: I hope you won’t break your promise to send, in at least one entry to each competition during this year. You have 14 H.C. and C. marks. Best wishes.

THIRD COMPETITIONS. CLOSING DATE-MONDAY. 6th FEBRUARY, 1928. Each entry must be on a separate sheet of paper (written on one side only) bearing the name, age and address of tho entry and envelope must bo marked “Third Competitions.” Senior Division: 12 years and up to 19 years. __ , Junior Division: Under 12 years Address all entries, letters, etc., to “Aunt Roberta.” , , , Novel Verse Competition (suggested by Jack Durham) : Choose any nursery rhyme you like, and mako it more poetical. Jack Durham gives the following example: “ROCK-A-BYE BABY.” Ah 1 slumber, sweetest babe, who liest now Far up in yonder fir whose branches As they ’are smitten by the cruel breeze. And lo 1 thy humble cradle gently sways With each successive breezo that comes its way. , , . , . But ah ! when finally tho gnarled bough, Weakened and rotted by the elements, Shall 'hurst asunder, then unto the earth Shall fall thee and thy crafllo intertwined With leases and twigs a-gathered in thy fall. . r . Senior Division: Ist prize ss; 2nd prize 2s 6d. FURNISHING. Take a sheet of paper, about half tho size of this page. Now from catalogues and advertisements cut out articles of furniture and paste them on, arranging them as prettily as possible. Do ONE ROOM ONLY— Kitchen, nursery, drawingroom—anything you like. . Junior Division: Ist prize 4s; 2nd prize 2s. CAN YOU FIND THEM (sent by Olive O’Donnell) : In the following verse the missing words are all formed of the same six letters: A walked across the green, No saw he there; He . . . . around as though he’d been In his own fair. Senior and Junior Division and a prize each of 2s 6d. RESULTS OF PREVIOUS COMPETITIONS. ... SPECIALLY MENTIONED. "THE DUST OF DISILLUSIONMENT.” ( By Rita Puddle, 14 years.) The azure of the wido heaven, the blue haze of the distant hills, and tho green meadows wore the same as ever. Tho broad highway, like a white ribbon, wound its way through the fair countryside, and the

“HUIA”: The drawing is in order and your entries were received in time, I m glad to say. Thanks for the suggested competition. Phyllis \Vinn’s address is Rose Hill,” Wyndham. Best wishes to an appreciative member of the Family. “EULA ARTHUR”: Wound your letter aSout “nothing at all” most interesting, bo sorry that I am not to get my snap. The “Os’s” of the Family are not all related; by this I mean that two are brothers. I

OUR MOTTO: " CHARACTER AND PERSEVERANCE ”

wild flowers bloomed in shady spots as of old. And down by the old pool, ’neath the weeping willows, the bullfrogs sang as of yore, and the water-lilies, in all thoir glory, were still spreading their green leaves to shelter their froggy friends. There was a little child in the picture too, a brown-legged, 1 sturdy youngster with tumbled curls and laughing eyes, who played and dabbled her toes in tho cool waters. Looking at tho child, Mara Delaney could see herself again as she had been in the days when she had played by the willows. ■ But now her curls were streaked with grey and the laughing eye 3 were dimmed with the sorrows of tho passing years. Thpre was regret in their sad' depths as she gazed at tho rosy, dimpled child. , ~ ~ ,1, < ‘Little girl,” she said, “can you tell me why you like to sit by that pool and play with the water-lilies, and dabble your pink toes in tho water ?” Tho child looked up. Something in tho face of the stately lady won her confidence for she dimpled in April smiles. “Oo come too,” sho said, gurgling laughter breaking from her rosy lips. “Oo take off ’our an’ play in ze water. No' fishios here to bite an’ yere s a meremaid way. down ze bottom, zat lives wiz a frooggy.” “Why, dear,” said Mara, I would look ridiculous!” , ~ “What’s ‘diclus ? demanded the mite. “Never mind him. Turn an’ play wiz\ me in ze water.” A sudden impulse made Mara stoop down and pull off her shoes and stockings. Her hat and sunshade sho tossed aside, and down by tho pool she sat and dabbled her bare feet in tho fresh, clear water. Tho child laughed gleefully. “Can ’oo see zc mermaid?” she asked. Mara looked down into tho water, and for a moment sho fancied sho could see a rr.Limaid. She had scon one when slid was a child. Then a blittorncss came over her. “No, dear,” she said, sorrowfully, “I cannot seo a mermaid now.” “Why?” questioned the little girl. “Is it a story. Tell me. “Yes, it is a story,” sighed Mara, “an old, old story. There is somewhere, no one knows whore, an old hag called Fate. She watches over little children, but she is powerless to harm them. But as soon as they start to leave childhood behind she takes from a silver pot a powder, made from serpents’ tails. It is called the Dust of Disillusionment, and she throws it in their eyes. And ever after they can only see the ordinary, the commonplace and the sordid things life has to offer. Only once in forty yearn can they again take a glimpse of what is behiad the curtain.” She sighed sadly; then jumping up, cried, “I will draw aside tho curtain for just a little while. Come dear, and we will go to the fields and gather wild flowers to make a wreath to crown the mermaid.” And, hand-in-hand, they wandered off. The golden sun in all its splendour smiled upon the fair green landscape. By a clear crystal pool, like the mirror of hope and faith, a child played with the water-lilies. She was not lonely, although so alone, for the cool water and tho waterlilies and little green frogs were her friends. Tho birds and tho flowers were her companions, too, and tho wind that swept through the tree-tops watched over her with loving care. And when night fell, to motherly arms she went, and soon in her little white bed was sleeping, while the queen of the .night hovered round to make sure that her dreams wore as pure and happy as her laughing eyes. But in a crowded ballroom a woman dressed in costly jewels and richest attire, with the despair of bitterness in her - eyes and in her heart, looked past the glittering throng of dancers, and saw only a white wreath of daisies that had crowned her head for a short while, and a small child playing by a pond where waterlilies floated. And it seemed to her that the old hag Fate laughed to herself and cried, “Yes, yes, you thought to escape from the Dust of Disillusionment, but the spell holds you fast, and you : can never escape, never !”

SPECIALLY MENTIONED,

“THE PRINCE AND BOODLE.”

jßy “Roronga,” 17 years). Evervono was puzzled by the conduct of Piince Anadell. He simply would not behave like a properly brought-up prince. He would never go out seeking adventure, but much preferred playing golf with tho head waiter at the palace. He said that was quite adventurous enough for him. Ills father at length arranged a mar- 1 riago for him with tho daughter of a mighli iuring king, who was all that eouid be desired in the matter of orthodoxy. She was good and clever and beautiful, and she had not ehingled her golden locks. Everything was arranged—even the other two suitors were procured (an orthodox princess always ha 3 three suitors) and the only thing left to be done was for Prince Anadell to fight a dragon. The princess’s father was having one of his dragons fed on wild oats (the ones ho had sown in his youth) in order to make it frisky enough for the fight.' But, unfortunately, Prince Anadell refused to fight the dragon. It was not because he was not brave, because lie was quite brave —he had never been frightened of the dark when he was a little goy. But he said he thought it would be very cruel to kill the poor old dragon when ho could quite easily marry the princess without doing it. “But that’s just what you can’t do I” wailed his exasperated father. “It’s a custom and it must be kept up.” "Well, it’s a very silly custom, and it •ught to be allowed to die,” said Anadoll, and went off to play golf with the head waiter, who was waiting for him on the front door-mat. Notohing could persuade Anadell to fight tho dragon, and to prevent being pestered he joined the S.P.C.A. The princess, who was called Serina, was very annoyed at this refusal, naturally, boeauso she thought it insulting, so sho determined to punish this laggard lover. One line morning, therefore, sho tied a pink ribbon round tho dragon’s neck, and went for a walk with it. Bcforo long sho came to the golf course, where Anadell was playing with the headwaiter as usual. She sat down in the shade, not far from the thirteenth hole. Thirteen was her lucky number. Soon the prince came into sight. He had lost his ball and was hunting for it so diligently that he did not see the princess until he tripped over the dragon’s tail, lie had never seen her before, although ho had her picture at home, but he had nover looked at that. He was quite startled, therefore, to see a beautiful girl sowing demurely under the trees. Of course, ho fell in love at once, which was about the first really orthodox thing ho had ever done. Ho was just about to say, “Good morning,” when tho princess whispered to the dragon, “Loolum, Boodle,” at the same time adding point to this remark by driving her golden needle into its flank. Sho had seen Anadell’s picture. Booodle “loolumed.” The prince was naturally a bit surprised at this onslaught, but thinking it must be owing to his having tripped over the dragon’s tail, he set to work right lustily with his mashee, and forgot all about the S.P.C.A.

Before long Boodle was no more. “You know,” said Anadell, “you ought not to have such an animal about. It might have hurt you seriously, one of those days, if I hadn’t killed it!" The princess smiled. She thought he was really rather amusing, and sho quite forgave him Iris delinquencies. She decided that she wouldn’t mind marrying him a bit. “Won’t you come and have some lunch at the palacd?” asked Anadell. Serina consented, and so everybody was pleased, except the head-waiter, whose golf was spoilt. Of course, Anadell married Serina, as there was no obstacle now that he had killed poor Booodle.

HIGHLY COMMENDED.

“THE PIONEER'S CHRISTMAS.”

(By “Mayflower,” 13 years.) , Dawn was breaking when Eric Smith stepped out his lonely hut to gather fuel for his camp fire. Suddenly he paused in his work, and exclaimed in sur'prise, “Gee! it’s Christmas Day!” His last Christmas had been spent in a crowded city with the roar of traffic in his ears. What a contrast to the little hut in the New Zealand bush. The pioneer, as ho ate his breakfast, thought of the great contrast between the silent bush life and the roar and rush of the city. Having finished his meal ho strode into the bush to shoot a turkey for dinner. Soon the turkey, stripped of his feathers, ‘was hanging over tho fire, and an appetising odour was wafted over the camp. Ah inquisitive weka approached and cautiously took a fork from the table. Wishing to discover what it would do with tho fork the pioneer followed. The bird carefully dropped the bright articlo into the grass and returned for more. As the man sat in solitary state eating his Christmas dinner, the notes of the bollbirds burst sweetly on his ear. After all, the Christmas of that lonely pioneer was happier than that of many city people.

HIGHLY COMMENDED. “THE DONALDS’ VISITOR.” (By Lucy Fraser, 12 years.) “Mother, don’t you think that someone ought to have answered our advertisement?” asked fair-haired Keith Donald. “It has boen in for three days now.” “Yes, sonny, I thought someone would have replied, but I don’t think anyone will now, for it is Christmas Eve.” Mr and Mrs Donald had advertised for sonic lonely person to spend Christmas Day with them, but as yet there had been no reply, and Keith and Ena, their two children, had been, sorely disappointed. “Well, checks, it is time you were in bed,” said Mr Donald. “Don’t you think so, Mum ?” “Certainly,” replied Mrs Donald: ‘ early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.” It was exactly twelve o’clock on Christmas Day. The table was set for four, and Mrs Donald was just bringing in the turkey when there was a loud knock at the door and Mr Donald jumped up to answer it. There stood a tall, well-dressed man with a broad smile on his face. “I believe you are Mr Donald, the man who has had an advertisement in tho paper for a lonely person to spend Christmas Day with you.” “Quito right,” replied Mr Donald. “Well, what do you say to me? I can assure you that I am really lonely, and if I had not seen your kind*advertisement I should have had to have my Christmas dinner all alone in a huge dining-room.” “Come in, sir,” cried Mr Donald, “and Welcome”; and he led the visitor to the dining-room where winner awaited. Here tho answerer to the advertisement w-as made welcome, and soon the entire family were enjoying a grand feast. Ena and Keith were silting as quiet as mice, for once, while the visitor and their father talked, but suddenly Ena got off her chair and walked round'to the stranger, and said abruptly : “Would you tell me your name, please?” “Why, certainly, little one,” replied the man! “my name is Dennis Denbigh.” “What!” cried 'Mr Donald, forgetting his manners. “Surely not Lord Denbigh of the Hall?” “Yes,” said Dennis Denbigh, simply. “Arid I wonder if you would allow Ena and' Keith to stay with me for a week or so? Perhaps they would cure my loneliness.

Ena and Keith were simply dumfounded. But their mother said: “Why, certainly, Lord Denbigh.” Ena recovered, and cried “Oh, your darling!”. While Keith gave a whoop of delight. Ena and Keith always declared that those Christmas holidays . were the best they ever had.

HIGHLY COMMENDED. “SINGING!” .(By eight-years-old Mervyn Dalefield). Three-years-old Stanley Brown tyas stroking the yellow cat, which was sitting by the fire, purring. “Mummie,” called Stanley, “come and hear pussy singing 1” “Oh, I’m too busy,” said Mrs Brown. "What is he singing!” • “I think it is ‘Bird of my native wilds’,” said the little boy. t His mother, much amused by her son’s reply, was soon afterwards telling the story of pussy’s selection of a song to Dr. Young, who had called to see the baby. The doctor laughed heartily, and said: “Why, that reminds me of a young Maori soldior at the war, who had been wounded and taken to the hospital, but was almost well enough to go back to the firing line. , great home-sickness had taken hold of the poor fellow, and when I asked if he was not feeling quite fit now, he said: ‘Oh, doctor! there’s such a singing going on in myt head!’ ‘Singing?’ said I. “What song is it?’ ‘Home Sweet Home!’ replied the young Maori. “ Til listen and see if I can hear it too,’ I 6aid; and holding my head by the Maori’s, I listened intently for a few moments. ‘Why, that’s not ‘Home Sweet Home’ it’s the Marseillaise, “To arms ! To arms ! Ye Brave !’ ”

HIGHLY COMMENDED. “A FAITHFUL SHEEP-DOG.” (By Willie Maxwell, 12 years). One Christmas Eve everyone was revelling in a joyous evening with games, dancing and singing. It was in the middle of all this gaiety that a 1 loud roar of thunder was heard, and then came a heavy downpour of rain. In a few hours tho river had changed the dry land into a deep swamp. And over on an island the sheep were hemmed in—-in imminent danger of being drowned. There was no possibility of reaching them. In this dilemma the faithful collie was sent to their aid. The hardy beast soon breasted tho billows, and reached the island. Tearing down a portion of the enclosure that penned in the flock, ho drove them to a safe spot. He kept watch round them for two days until the river subsided low enough to make tho ford passable. The faithful animal did justice to tho Christmas dinner ho richly deserved.

HIGHLY COMMENDED. “CHRISTMAS AT GRANPA’S.” (By Enid Palmer, 11 years.) '■“Daisy! Daisy! Where are yiou ?” Ken came running out into the garden, calling to his little seven-years-old sister." “I’m here! What do you want ?” asked Daisy, as she pushed her way through the trees and shrubs. “Oh, I’ve got something lovely to tell you.” Ken danced round in his excitement. “Guess what it is.” "I hate guessing. Tell me what it is,” Daisy said sulkily. We’re going to stay at Granpa’s for Christmas! Come on, let’s go and pack some toys to take with us.” Then followed a regular stampede for the house. “What are you children going tio do?” asked their mother. “We’re going to pack some things to take with us to-morrow,” Ken said. “You won’t need to take any tioys,” said

Mrs Harrington. “You’ll get quite enough for Christmas.” Next day the excited children were conveyed to the station in a taxi, and were then carried away north in the big express train. They reached their destination at six o’clock that evening, and after having a little tea (they were too .excited to eat much) they witnessed a display of fireworks, and then went to bed quite tired out. Next morning Daisy awakened early, and, sitting up in bed, she looked at the bulging stocking hanging on the bedpost. “Ken! Ken! Are you awake ? she whispered. . ' ~ “Yes,” came a sleepy voice from the bed-clothes. Ken sat up and rubbed his eyes “Oh! I’ve got a mechanical set! Its just what I wanted.” " , “Yes, and look, I’ve got a doll, and Daisy proudly displayed her doll. “Daisy, we’ll get up now, eh? “Yes," alright.” , , , ’ , They scrambled out of bed, dressed hurriedly and ran down-stair 3. “You seem to be in a great hurry. . The children looked round and saw their uncle standing in ihe doorway of the sit-ting-room. . - “Merry Christmas, uncle, . they cried toee “Merr.v Christmas,” returned their uncle, smiling broadly. The children then ran on into the nursery which had been prepared for them. Here,to their astonishment and delight, they found a large Christmas tree laden with every toy imaginable. u ~ Htow pleased they were! They could hard y wait for the time to conic when they would help to relieve the tree of its many parWhen time did come Santa Claus walked into the room. (Santa Claus was really their uncle). The children gasped at this strange person. Then the parcels were distributed amongst the little crowd. As the children declared afterwards, it was the most enjoyable Christmas they had spent. They stayed at their Grandfather’s home for three weeks, and then regretfully returned home.

HIGHLY COMMENDED.

< ‘THE YOUNG' CAST AW AY. ”

(By “Ralph the Rover, 11 years.)

Lieutenant Woodrove, second lieutenant of the Empress of India, a barque in the East India Trade Company,’ came down fnom tho deck and said, “Jack Bevan, you’ve got to go on shore with the rest of the lads to get fresh food.” Jack Bevan, the cabin boy, got up from the table, where he was making a model ship “Hey!” said Alciott, the mate of the mess, “you can’t leave your muck lying about. Clear it up at once.” Jack did so, putting the axe in his belt, his pocket-knife, a couple of feet of copperwire, and several yards of cord in his pocket and the unfinished ship in a cupboard. He then got into one of the boats and the sailors rowed to the island, and began their search for fruit and vegetables. Jack filled his sack, and took it to the boat where he emptied it. This he did three times. The fourth time he half-filled the bag, and, being tired, he lay down under a large mango tree. Soon he was fast asleep. When he awakened two hours later not a sign of the ship was to be seen. He looked at the sky; it was dull and threatening. In as few minutes the wind began to blow hard and rain came hissing down. Jack crept under a large bush and stayed there. For three days tho storm raged and then it grew fine again. By this time he had finished the contents of the sack.

Jack gave himself up for lost, but he still kept up his spirits. He found a nice

spot in a grove of palm trees, and built o hut. He spent a day in making a strong bow, and another in making thirty arrows, with the points of sharpened ironwood. Having read that Robinson Crusoe made pots of clay, he made a sort of a pot on a stand. In this he cooked his meat and taro, a kind of root. Mo made crockery out of seashells and put wire handles on them. He had many adventures on the island. One morning he awakened and saw a large venomous snake coiled inside his door. Jack seized his .bow and quiver of arrows, and fired three, killing the snake. He did not wipe the venom off the arrows and this saved his life. As he was standing on a mud bank by a large river, ho heard a a noise behind him. He looked round and saw a huge alligator bearing down upon him. He fired one of the arrows ho had used to kill the snake. It entered the monster’s mouth and stuck there. In a minute tho venom had done its deadly work and the alligator was dead. Ho had many more adventures, and more than once he was in dire peril, but he always escaped. One evening he saw a light out at sea. Nearer and nearer it came and the outline of a cruiser came into view. Jacked grabbed his flint, steal and tinder, and rushed on to the beach. Whack! Whack! Whack! Down came his steel on the flint; the sparks thus caused ignited the heap of fuel and tinder. In half a minutes, a fire was blazing and tho cruiser lowered a boat. Jack was taken on board tho H.M.S. Kempenfelt, as the cruiser was named. Here he learned that the Empress of India had been driven back to Singapore during the storm. The cruiser had been sent out to look for him and had succeeded after four months’ search.

CRISPIES. Tho schoolmistress was about to dismiss tho class for the holidays. “Now, children,” she 6aid, I hope that you will have a very pleasant time, and, what is more important, that you will all come back with a bit of sense in your heads.” ~ , , Promptly, came the chorus of voices, “Same to you, Miss.” * * * * * * Visitor: “Do you like to recite, dear?” .Child: .“No, but Mummy always asks me, because it makes people go.” (Sent by Daisy Rae). ***** Wife: “I saw the doctor to-day, dear, about my loss of memory.” Husband: “What did he do? ■ Wife: “Made me pay in advance. *** * . An"ry Customer: “Look here, waiter, what’s this button doing in my salad? Waiter: “That will be part of tho dressing, sir.” Mrs Jones* ‘.‘Well* Mrs Brown, you are getting on quickly with your knitting. Mrs Brown: ‘Wes; you see I wants to get it finished before the wool gives out. A small boy wa*s writing a composition on Quakers. He wound up by saying that Quakers never quarrelled, never got excited never talked about each other, and never answered back, adding. Pa 16 a quaker, but I don’t think Ma is^ Bobby: “Mum, are we faking the cat with us to Jones’ ?” Fond Mother: “No, dear, why? Bobby: “Oh, I heard dad tell Mr Green that the mice would have a high old time when the cat was away.” Small child (to man at door): "Me mother’s not in—Mum, it’s not the man you thought it was !”