Aunt Roberta’s Family

Manawatu Standard, Volume XLIX, Issue 78, 1 March 1929, Page 10

Aunt Roberta’s Family

AUNT ROBERTA’S LETTER. Dear Children, —They say that boys are smarter than girls—but it is not so, in MY Family, at any rate! More girls’ names are “called” than boys (because I have ever so many more girls' names on my roll), and it is not often that a niece omits to respond; but the nephews are very remiss. Another half-crown this week for Lizzie! Sam Hodge, who lives at 12 Bourke Street, Palmerston North, according to my roll, failed to answer to the Roll Call of Bth February. Here’s an interesting item of news about niece Eula from Mildred Procter: “Euia Arthur was made a prefect the other day at school.” Heartiest congratulations, Eula! Read what “Heffalump” says about “Aunt Roberta’s Family” page: “Writing for the ‘Family’ has been a great help to me, and I’ll feel lost when I can’t do a little now and then for you.” I only wish others felt the same way, and would show their appreciation by either sending in entries to the competitions or writing to me occasionally. Even Aunt Roberta likes to know that she is appreciated! “Anemone” says she thinks there are some very clever children in the Family circle, especially Edith Cranton and little Ailcen Henderson. “Please congratulate Shylock on his or her ‘Longings’ entry. I think it was very good indeed.” These are the remarks of “Ego.” “Topping” says: “Will you please congratulate Audrey Drummond for me, and tell her I know I shall find it hard to compete against her.” Words of wisdom from little Aileen Henderson: “What a lot of silent nieces and nephews you must have. I see strange names in the Roll Call, but it is the same ones all the time in the competitions.” I am curious to know what is the attitude of these “silent” nieces and nephews towards “Aunt Roberta’s Family.” Do they read the page every week, I wonder ? And are they interested in and proud of the doings of the Family. I suppose it would be too much to ask ALL these “silent” ones to drop mo a line and say what they really think of the page—good, bad or indifferent. If they (and the “active” members as well) have any ideas regarding improving it, I 6hall be only too glad to hear them. It is my aim to enoourago and help young New Zealanders per medium cf “Aunt Roberta’s Family” page. I am sure there is no other paper in the whole of the Dominion that offers so many prizes through the year for effort, and 1 am often surprised and disappointed at the lack of response by the majority of members. Now, I won’t “scold” my children any more this week! Best wishes from, fxj&bxbOL “Aunt Roberta’s Family” Badgo costs Is (stamps or postal note). ENROLMENT COUPON. Cut out this coupon, fill it in, and post to “Aunt Roberta,” care “Standard.” 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 Sent in by 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 sends in the most names of NEW MEMBERS by the 31st March next THESE NEW MEMBERS MUST BE SIX YEARS OF AGE OR OVER. EACH ENROLMENT COUPON must be cut out of the paper, and MUST BEAR THE ENDORSEMENT of a parent, guardian or school teacher as to its being authentic. Tim winner of the prize must secure at least' twelve names. Enrolment coupons may bo sent in as they are collected, and MUST BE LEGIBLE. ENROLMENTS RECEIVED. George Burnby (sent in by Aileen Henderson). Doreen Jackson (sent in by Mabel Burgess). Jack and Molly Drain and Dick Sexton (sent in by Billy Collins). LITERARY CORNER. Favourite verses, opinions of various books and short descriptive passages out of well-known books will be published in this corner each week. “Topsy Turvy” writes: “I am sending you a poem by G. Cooper, which is sweet though very simple”:— Tell mo ; what’s the sweetest sound The world has ever heard ? Is it the lisp of a silver brook ? The note of a happy bird ? Is it the stir of the trembling leaves That whisper to themselves ? Is it the bleat of the pretty sheep? The laugh of the woodland elves? Is it the tinkle, soft and low, Of the rippling summer rain ? Is it the silken rustling heard In the fields of yellow grain? Can’t ytcit paesfi the sweetest sound ? At home it what you seek ? Why, it’s the first eweet loving word We hear the baby speak! “OUR MAIL BAG.” TOPPING: I am so pleased that you have written a story for the “wireless” competition. Best wishes. EGO; I “call” the names at random. Stories of real life are more interesting, I think. Miko is very well, indeed, and sends his love! Thanks for the nice kisses. ROSALEEN: I had forgotten that “Lavender” was already taken. Fluffykins must indeed be a beauty. I • think your handwriting is very good. ANEMONE: I thought of you—and you thought of me! It is indeed a long time since I heard from you. Perhaps you will write again soon. Best wishes. HEFFALUMP: Keep on, don’t get discouraged. MILDRED PROCTER: For quite a long time now there have been 28 c and h.c. marks standing to your credit. LILY MAXWELL: Lizzie i 3 disappointed because she has missed your entry to the “Three A’s” competition! I have marked the number of words on it. I am sorry to hear that Jack is too busy now to enter for the competitions. Why will my children grow up ? MISCHIEF: I have never been to Stewart Island. Your description makes me long to see the place. Perhaps I shall some day. Love and best wishes. BERYLL PASCOE: I am glad to hear you had such a nice holiday. Your name has not been “called” yeh. Do you like office life ? WEKA: The verses you hav<j 6ent for the Literary Corner are very pretty indeed. Thanks for the nice kieses. GEORGE BURNBY: Aileen told me you wanted to join. I am very glad, and your name has been put on my roll. Love and best wishes to a new nephew. IRENE FRANKLIN: I hope you will write to me again soon. ALLEN-A-DALE; Thanks for the nice long letter. You have wonderful powers of description. Don’t worry, I do all the work of the page myself. Thanks for the ooa-

tribution to our Literary Corner. It is rather long, but I expect I’ll find room for it one of these days. The competition suggestion will come in very handy. Love and best wishes. BUTTERCUP: I am sorry to hear you have difficulty in getting the paper. Alother is quite right—entering for the competitions must help one at 6chool. I suppose your mother writes articles for the two papers you mention ? How interesting. Lots of love. BARBARA WOODWARD: Yes, I thought you had quite, quite forgotten me. The story you mention —“Warned By Whom” —was very fine. So you’ve been to Stewart Island, too. Thanks for the jokes. SIXTH COMPETITIONS. CLOSING DATE, MONDAY, 18th March, 1929. Each entry must be on a separate sheet of paper (written in ink on one side only) bearing the name, age and address of the competitor. Each entry and envelopo must be marked “6th Competitions.” Senior Division. —15 years up to 19 years. Intermediate Division. —12, 13 and 14 years. Junior Division. —Under 12 years. SHORT STORY (any subject)— Must bo tho competitor’s OWN IDEA AND UNAIDED EFFORT. Maximum number of words 1000. Senior Division. —Prize 4s. Intermediate. —Prize 4s. Junior Division. —Prize 2s 6d. COMPRESSED CARS— In the sentences below there are no less than 8 cars compressed. How many ,can •you find ? If you find the eight you will have used every letter up. Sentences: ‘ Let Sal cover Lea up, Mabs. Oh, no, call Lill. At a hall lived a cock, ox, cub and kid.” Senior and Intermediate Division. —Prize 2s 6d. ... . „ c , Junior Division. —Prize 2s od. ROLL CALL: Gordon Patrick. RESULTS OF 3RD COMPETITIONS. (Continued from last week.) ESSAY ON SOLITUDE. SENIOR DIVISION. HIGHLY COMMENDED. (By Daphne Gutzewitz, 17 years.) When the blue sky opened to let pass through a wonderful God-like creature, Nature held her breath in wonder. When the beautiful creature smiled at her, her amazement changed to love. She called together all her sons and daughters; the tall, strong trees, the far-reaching ocean—oh, such a number of children she had! and told them her commands. . So, as tho setting sun gave a last wicked wink, the trees and the sea and all the other children sent forth their gifts for tho first man. There were gifts of beauty, of truth, of loyalty, dozens and dozens of gifts. Last of all the sea sent his message from the farthermost shore, and Mother Nature smilccFas sho read it. ... “I send the gift of Solitude. May it bring him happiness when all else fails.” And when all else fails, when loyalty hides its face, and happiness, like the elusive sprite it is, flits away to new fields, man flies to the one thing upon which he can depend. Under tho understanding hand of solitude his sorrows melt away, and happiness returns in tho hands of cool winds. Wise indeed was tho one who murmured “Solitude is man’s best friend.” Wandering, well pleased with himself, he suddenly comes to one of the quiet, hidden places of tho world, and in that secret hour ho sees the vision of himself as ho might have been, and as he is. Solitude has that uncanny power of probing the soul to unknown depths, and of making man determine, with a queer little wistful pang, to be worthier of tho beauty around him. But like so many precious gifts, this gift is often abused. Men must make judicious tise of it or like a gift that has been used too often it will wear out. Alexander Selkirk, with a little world of his own, and able to say; “I am monarch of all I survey,” yet longed for companionship. At first it was delightful to be wrapped round with Solitude, with no one to say him nay, and tho birds eager to greet him. But gradually tho silence seemed to hang heavily in the air. If there was only someone to talk to, someone with whom to admire a gay little fluffy singer, to laugh at a busy rushing stream. “A Jug of wine, a book of verse —and thou. And the wilderness were paradise enow!” That “thou” 1 .... For a month, a year, two years, man will live in solitude —then back to winking lights and gay laughter ho goes, and solitude, with an understanding smile, lets him go; she knows that at odd minutes in his life he will return to her. So endless, eternal, the Spirit of Solitude lives on, and perhaps only the one who gave it knows just how precious is the gift given “at the gateway of a day of long ago.” HIGHLY COMMENDED. (By Judy, 16 years.) Who is there amongst us who lias not spent an hour or so in jolitude, and enjoyed those few quiet minutes, during which one may dream contentedly and undisturbed of half-forgotten jpys or of coming events? However frivolous, however gay one may be, there is always enjoyment in a quiet hour, away from busy city streets, away from friends, away from everything except those thoughts which gently traverse the mind and help to soothe the being. Of course, to live in solitude would be by no means desirable to the average person. There are those who prefer to live a lonely life out in the back-blocks, away from the crowded towns, and away, one might almost say, from the civilised world. Even though they may have a homo and a family, this life, though it would have its advantages, would not be suited to many, as most people cannot do without friends and a gay time. It is often said of a thing that it is best appreciated when one lias little of it, and this is perfectly true, as one would learn to appreciate the good things of lifo in a far deeper sense of the word by having first tasted what it is to go without them. A few years iout in the back country would certainly teach one this, and perhaps do one world of good. When a person is lonely there is no better cure than to read a good book. Even if one has lived a life of solitude away from all human beings, there is everything in books, that is, really good books, to make up for those lonely feelings which inevitably creep over one. Newspapers, if they could be procured, would also enable a person to keep up ah intercourse with the outside world in mind, if not in actual being. Great authors 6pend hours in solitude with no company but books. Quietness is absolutely essential to writers, ns tho mind cannot concentrate with noise and confusion around. If one can get away from everything, and hear no noise but the gurgling of the brook or the happy twittering of the birds overhead, then it is the time that one can write to advantage. As wo wander amongst tho transient things of life, we realise that we have a great deal to learn. Lot us, therefore, during the few times that wo are alone, ponder on and consider, all things, so that we may learn to distinguish between the right and tho wrong, the passing and the lasting, and altogether gain confidence in ourselves and live a life of happiness. HIGHLY COMMENDED. (By May Swain, 14 years.) Far up in tho azure heavens three larks trilled joyously. Down on earth, in'a cool tree fringed, grassy dell, a little stream

OUR MOTTO: " CHARACTER AND PERSEVERANCE ”

sang gaily as it danced along on its jouiney further into tho woods. A. gentle breeze played softly through the flower6tarred gra<*se.s, and out of tho wxxDd.s a shy rabbit ciimo leaping merrily, rejoicing in the untramclle.d freedom of tho bush. On every gently swaying bough and twig the feather songsters melodiously poured forth their joyous praises of the Creator. A little distanco from the dell a tomtit jealously guarded her treasures —four little babes. Now a lordly stag bounded out into the glade, with seven dainty hinds following him. He paused to drink of tho crystal waters of tho brook, and then, raising his magnificently antlered head, made the woods vibrato with his mighty challenge. Then ho glanced round at his hinds, and bounded back into the bush. Next a weasel stole cautiously along in search of prey. His brown body could hardly bo seen, and his bright eyes glanced craftily around as ho disappeared in the undergrowth. Now the afternoon was drawing to a close, and the sun, travelling slowly towards the west, touched the glorious flowers with his warm beams, bringing out their brilliant colours so that they gleamed with dazzling light against their green and brown surroundings. Now the sun was sinking into its bed, and tho Divine Artists spilt with lavish profusion beautiful tints of pink and gold, transforming the fleecy clouds into a halo of glory. In the rosy (lush of light tho sun sank out of sight and the clouds gradually merged into dark grey. Over the bush brooded the spirit of peace. One by one the stars appeared, and the solemn hush of night lay over the land. WHAT I WOULD LIKE TO BE WHEN I GROW UP AND WHY. Junior Division. HIGHLY COMMENDED. A WIRELESS OPERATOR? (By. Baby Buzz, 8 years.) When I grow up I would like to study wireless. I would like to learn all I could about it, and then experiment, and do my best to improve it. If I was only good enough, I think it would be just lovely to be in charge of some big radio station. It would also be very interesting to be a wireless operator on soino big boat or like Mr McWilliams on the Southern Cross. HIGHLY COMMENDED.. A NURSE. (By Thelma Cranton, 8 years.) When I grow up I would like to be a nurse, because nursing is interesting, and nurses look so nice in their uniforms with big white aprons and white caps. They don’t seem to got dirty or work very hard either, and I would like that. They have plenty of fun, too. Mother says I ought to make a good nurse, for when anyone gets a thorn or splinter in their finger I always want to get it out. I love rubbing bruises and wrapping up cuts or bathing tired feet and combing hair. It will bo eight or nine years before I will be ablo to go to a hospital to start nursing, and I am longing for the time to come.” HIGHLY COMMENDED. A MODEL SCHOOL TEACHER. (By Aileen Henderson, 8 years.) When I grow up I would like to be a school teacher. I would have a model school. When the children got tired and restless in school I would 6ay, “Go out for a while and enjoy yourselves playing.” I would not be too hard on them when they were naughty, as I would always remember that I was just as bad myself when I was small. When I think I am well enough educated I will try and get a position as a journalist on a good paper. HIGHLY COMMENDED. ANOTHER NURSE. . (By Betty Thompson, 11 years.) When I grow up I am going to be a nurse. I want to help the sick people' to get. better. I think it is nice to help the sick and to know you are helping them to get well again. When I used to go and see my sick sister in tho hospital, who died, I often wished I was a nurse so that I could 6top with her and all the other little children in the ward. When I go to Technical School I am going to take homo nursing as one of my subjects. HIGHLY COMMENDED. TO MAKE PRETTY CLOTHES. (By Baby Peggy, 6 years.) When I grow up I would liko to be a dressmaker. I think it would be nice to make pretty clothes for myself and for other people. I could earn a lot of money, too. Perhaps when I grow up I might change my mind and bo a shop-girl. I am not sure. WHY’ THE COW JUMPED OVER THE MOON. HIGHLY COMMENDED. (By Ralph Holmes, 12 years.) There are many reasons why the cow may have jumped over the moon, logical and otherwise. From whafc I can gather, most people seem to think that the cow who jumped over the moon was “potty”—that is, insane. One joker told mo that it wanted a bite of green cheese! And yet another explanation is that the cow had just awakened from a slumber troubled with bad dreams. Perhaps it was desirous of having a chat with the man in the moon. However, the theory that I am most inclined to favour is that the cow had been taking an overdose of salts. Tho others, I think, are too improbable. But hold! The cow may have jumped over the moon for joy because its master had won a prize in “Aunt Roberta’s Family.” HIGHLY COMMENDED. (By Remus, 14 years.) One day an old witch met a cow on the road, and wishing to play a trick on it asked for some milk. “Certainly,” said the cow, “ylou may milk me until that bucket is full.” The old witch sat under the cow, and commenced to milk. Tho rich creamy milk began to flow into the bucket, but as fast as the milk flowed Into it, it ran out through the bottom, as it was full !of holes. At last the cow could give no more milk, and, with a wicked laugh, the witch walked away. “What shall I do?” moaned the cow. “The children will have no new milk tonight, and thero will be no cream for butter.” A fairy heard her and kindly said: “If you jump over the moon and como down the Milky Way you will never run short of milk again.” That night, when the moon was sailing low down in tho sky, the cow jumped clean over the moon, and found herself gliding down tho milky way to land gently back in her own paddock. Ever since that time the Jersey cows have been famous for their splendid supply of milk. HIGHLY COMMENDED. (By Heffalump, 17 years.) “Hey, diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the cow. jumped over the moon.” Then Jimmy ceased his singing and asked: “Why did the oow jump over the moon?” , His mother sighed. Really, Jimmy asked the most absurd questions. “I’ll tell you about the cow,” she said, “but not about the cat or the dog. And,” sho added, “it will bo your bedtime story.” Prince Bullarina had a wonderful red, red- ruby. Besides being wonderful to look upon, it had marvellous powers. Whoever possessed it could cure whomever they wished of any illness or pain. Npw Polly was only, a mortal cow.. She

belonged to a farmer, hut, owing to her mother having heen a fairy cow, had been banished from Ilulldun. Polly was allowed to attend the nightly meetings She was at the meeting, when Prince Bullarina announced that ho would give his ruby to the one who performed the most miraculous deed. The performance would take place three nights later. Polly decided to bo there, not as a performer, but as an observer. She didn’t need the ruby, and, besides, what wonderful things could she do ? The day before the performance, Nancy Blake, the little girl whom Polly lovedyes, cows can love —became very, very ill. Polly heard Jane telling Maria about it, and she was so sorry. Then she remembered the ruby. It would cure human beings, but only once would the charm work. After being used the first time, the ruby became useless. So Polly decided to win it. How ? Ah, have patience! Polly had thought of a wonderful idea. It was very risky, but wonderful! She spent all that night with Fairy Bovine, and on the night of the performance she attended with a cloak over her. Her turn came last, and Princo Bullarina was so sure a mortal ' cow couldn’t do anything that ho nearly left, but Fairy Bovine persuaded him to stay. Polly threw off her cloak- and disclosed two wings. Of course, the fairy cows didn’t know what they were, but Fairy Bovine did, and so did Polly. She spread her wings and leapt high into the air. Higher and higher she flew, towards the silver moon. Now she was above it, now over it, and then flying back. She landed safely, and quickly threw off her wings. Then she bowed down before Princo Bullarina. “Hurrah!” everyone cried. “Polly has jumped over the moon! Hurrah! The cow has jumped over the moon!” Jimmy’s mother stopped thero. “Go on,” said Jimmy. “There’s no more, except that Polly cured the sick girl.” “Is that all? How rotten!” “There’s a little more, but it.’e sad. Polly wished Nancy to be better, and the next afternoon poked her head in at the window to see if she was. Nancy wus better, but Polly gave her a great fright. Her father was angry and ” “Oh, did he kill poor old Polly?” “Yes, tho-fcow that jumped over the moon. Polly couldn’t save herself, because she had used the ruby on a mortal. Now go to sleep and dream you have jumped over the moon!”

JUNIOR DIVISION. HIGHLY COMMENDED. (By Ronnie Dalefield, 7 years.) A long timo ago, some little elves in a forest gave a party. Such funny things they did there. “Pansy,” a oow, was invited, and a cat with a fiddle, and a little dog called “Spot.” On a table was a big dish with legs, and a ' spoon. The elves said that if the dish 6aw anything very funny it always ran away and took the spoon with it. But no one believed them, because the dish kept still all the time. The moon came to the party, too, and he told the cow that she couldn’t jump over him. The cat was playing the fiddle, and that made the cow so excited that she believed she could jump over the moon —big as he was. She gave a great leap, and was over, and the little dog laughed —he’d never seen a cow jump over the moon before! And that dish could run after all, for it just ran off with the spoon, as the elves had said it would if it saw something funny. And now you know why the cow jumped over the moon—it was because the moon said she couldn’t! HIGHLY COMMENDED. (By Lightning, 9 years.) , As a little boy lay dying he said to Gin, his pet cat, “Take my fiddle and use it to bring happiness to those around you.” With tears in his eyes, Gin took the fiddle, and promised to obey his master. He practised until his music was perfect and brought laughter to all who heard it. Now Gin was a cat who loved all manner of tricks, so he said: “I will play only for those who will do some trick. If you want my music to make you happy, .you must do a trick that will amuse me.” So everyone did as Gin said. The dish and the 6poon ran around together, and the little dog laughed at the fun till he nearly cried. One day a cow camo to Gin, and said: “Please play me a tune.” “All right,” said Gin, but first you must do a trick.” “I am full of tricks,” said the cow. “You watch me, I will jump over the branch of that tree.” But in her excitement the cow mistook the moon, which had just risen, for the tree, and she went flying through the air, and over the moon, and from that day to this she has never been seen again. HIGHLY COMMENDED. (By Lily Maxwell, 9 years.) I have often watched cows out in the fields. If you put them in a fresh paddock they run and-sniff around, and, if they are pleased, they jump, wheel round and push their sisters about. Sometimes they dig their horns into the earth and send the dirt flying into the air. It is great fun watching them. Now, I remember one cow that was ill, and it was put in a shed for a whole week. After she was better the farmer let her out one fine day, and, I declare, 6he nearly jumped over the .house, she was so glad to bo out again. So that’s why the cow jumped over the moon —she was in such good spirits. HIGHLY COMMENDED—PREVIOUS COMPETITIONS. “THE PLAY’.” (By Toge, 17 years.) There were three of them in the play—the Clown, Columbine and Harlequin. The Clown loved Columbine, not with the ambitious love of happiness, but with the miserable love of despair, for she could never marry him—he was a hunchbacked, True she did love him, but Only as a father. Her heart was given to Harlequin, for ho was young like herself, and in the theatre romance blossoms quickly. Soon they were wed. So the play went on. And none noticed the Clown’s tears, shed in secret behind a pile of scenery. Who would ? Who would ever imagine a clown being sad ? A clown ? Why, he has a funny face and says funny things! How could he be sad ? Rubbish ! But the Clown was sad. One day Columbine taxed him with his s.orrow. “You’re sad,” she said. He protested. “Yee, you are; you’re really sad. I know it.” “Well, I’ve got Ho stopped abruptly. “You’ve got what?” she demanded. “I’ve got nobody to love,” he concluded with a sigh. Sho glanced at him out of the comers of her eyes. “If you’re very good, you can love me,” she said coquettishly. The Clown shrugged his shoulders. “What’s the use, my dear, if you don’t love mo?” he asked pathetically. Columbine protested, “Oh, I do! I love you a lot,” she cried. “A lot ?” echoed the Clown. Then, after a pause, “As much as Harlequin?” She held up a deprecating finger. “Oh I No. no.” “Then how much do you love mo,” said the Clown. She stretched out her two arms sideways. “This much,” she whispered roguishly. And the Clown was comforted a little. So the play went on. The story of it was almost a parallel to their own lives; Harlequin married Columbine, beloved of the Clown. She died soon, and, to counteract the sadness of the death scene, the Clown had to do VERY funny things. As she lay dead, he would say: “Ah, woe is me! I will e’en weep.” And, throwing himself at her feet, would burst into a paroxysm of hideous sounds, meant

back-dead, ino the a pp ause, and STAS®*#? * saults. Oh, he was a funny clown. S&fW! z \ °°S bi . n ° X .“.a °o persons’ parts m the pl a >» , absence of nicr! h Tho W mer.e°act L of"throwing himself at s msAWi; = £ a 'trx K l a Day by day Columbine pmed and wasted awav Of course a new Harlequin came but “he did not interest her. Now tt vvas . v pinwri who did the comfoitin o . Tendefiy he reproached her for her sorr°“You’ve got me to love,” he would say, “and I love you THAT much ” stretching his arms out' as far as his deformity pei mitted Then she would nestle her head upon his shoulder and lie would console her with tender words. So the play went on. Columbine died —of a broken heart. T Clown was the lone mourner at t.ic gra\e. side. Two lines of tears trickled down the furrows in his face on to the newly-dug soil. Ho was heavy of heart. But the play called; he had to go back and be funny, more witty than over, on account of the new Columbine, who was a fat unimaginative little thing. An the antics he cut! Really they were astounding! He was a wit. . , „ , . The end of the play drew nigh. Columbine lay dead. The Clown entered with many a ridiculous word and gesture. Catching sight of the still form, he ran over to it, wailing as loud as he could. \v oe is me! I will e’en weep.” His unnatural sobs rent the air, but two real tears left their shining track upon his cheeks. The playgoers saw it not; all they could see was a very funnv clown cutting the queerest antics. “Alas!” he cried, “I have nothing more to live for.” He threw himself across the body of Columbine. The audience applauded. What a funny clown he was! But he did not rise to acknowledge the acclamation. The curtain rattled its way down. The Clown lav very still. The play was done. HIGHLY COMMENDED PREVIOUS COMPETITIONS. SHORT STORY. “THE BROWNIES’ PARTY.” (By Mcrvyn Dalefield, 9 years.) Oneo upon a timo thero stood a huge tree in a forest. The trunk was hollowed

out and divided into four four flats were all complete with thing a Brownie could wish lor. Soon some families come to live in i . tree, and it was called Big free Mansion. At first all the Brownies were very hap]’ Each family above stairs had a ak outside their window. Ihen who lived on the second floor complain . to tho landlord that when they had “ lr washing out to dry on their balcony ,:, family up above them would watei thn geraniums; so the landlord suggestedlt ha. the two families should exchange flat. and this was done. Tho Brownie children on the top floor used to play with the little Brown.es the ground floor. At first they had groin fun, and were good friends. then th.w began quarrelling, and made so much noi-, that tho other families told the landlord, and he said ho would raise tho rent of tinnaughty Brownies’ homo sixpence a week This frightened them, and they becamei very quiet and good. So everyone was hap,,-, once more in Big Tree Mansions. And now thero was to be a midnight party thero. and all the fairies with their Queen were coining. Great preparations wcro going on, ami the little Brownies wore busy shining every thing from top to bottom m Big Tree Alan sioni. The- gardens round their h0i,,,. wcro weeded, tho lawn cut and the pat!,swept. It was summer time and was very warm. so tho feast was spread on a long la placed on the lawn. . There were sir,,«berries and blackberries in tiny bask,., made from marshmallow leaves, nuts, ch.-r----ries, and everything that fairies and Brownies love to cat. Tho cups and saucers were very pruty ; some were pink, sonic pale blue, and others Wh ‘‘oh what dear little cups and saucers." said the Fairy Queen when she saw them. “Wo picked them off our Cup and Saucer Canterbury Bells’,” said the Brown.es, and t:, 3 Queen and the fairies were so surprThen they saw the little blue finger bowls, and the Brownies told them that they were picked from tho “Campanulas in thengarden. They promised to send some -eeds to the Fairy Queen, so that the fauncould grow some dear little cups and saucciand finger bowls themsel\cs. Each K fairy was presented with a tm> bouquet, pink or red or yellow t being a single flowor picked from the tall double Vinilvhocks) and a present of a lovely little .£kcd by the. Brownies from their plants called Honesty. Such a merry party they had and u was kept up till near dawn. Then the Queen s P aid: P “Good-bye, Brownies wo h enjoyed ourselves so much. Don t forget to come to our party to-morrow night at twelve o’clock.”