Aunt Roberta’s Family

Manawatu Standard, Volume L, Issue 222, 15 August 1930, Page 10

Aunt Roberta’s Family

. AUNT ROBERTA'S LETTER. Dearest Children, Why do we use the expression—“ Before you can say ‘Jack-Robinson ?’ ” We all know the kind of restless individual who bursts in on us. shakes hands all round, asks after the baby’s teeth, and is off again in no time, “Can't stay more than a minute or two. Got a man to see about some roses. Bye-bye ! See you again Before long,” apd away he goes. “Heavens above!” we say. “He’s a funny chap. He’s here and gone before you can say “Jack Robinson!’.” -Now, Jack Robinson seems to have been a real person of just such lively habits. But information about when and where he lived is as elusive as he himself appears to have been. It was said of him that ho was out of the house again before the servant had had time to announce him! Funnily enough ,the “Jack Robinsons” of life are usually very popular fellows. Many people like their friends to be a little odd, and a man with this particular oddity is never a bore. He doesn’t stay long enough, as a rule, to tell a dull story or to borrow anything. The very liveliness of his disposition makes him a species of human tonic. Yours affectionately, & EXPLANATION OF THE ROLL CALL. Somewhere in “Aunt Roberta’s Family” Page will appear next to the words —ROLL CALL—each week the name of a member of the Family. If it is YOUR name that appears, cut out the slip, give the position in the page, the date of the paper, (also don’t forget to date your letter) and mail at once to “Aunt Roberta” c/o “Manawatu Evening Standard,” Palmerston North, when, in due course, a special prize of 2s 6d will reach you. ENROLMENT COUPON. Cut out this coupon, fill it in, and 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 1 CHATTERBOX. ALISON WINGATE says: “I think Fred Pycroft’s story about a little puppy wast Very good for a 10-years-old boy, and would like you to congratulate him for me!” “I am writing at last to you,” JESSIE BARLOW begins her letter. “I know I ought to be ashamed of myself for I haven’t written to you for nearly two years. I am wondering if my name has been taken off the roll, but I hope it hasn’t, because I’m still very interested in the page. I have missed one or two Friday nights, but I try. hard to get the paper. I think Nicodemus’s story was exceptionally good, don’t you?” In another letter Jessie claims the Roll Call Special Prize, her name having been “called” 11th July. NOEL HANNON has responded to the Roll Call of the following week. He says: “We all read the page in turn on Friday nights. I liked the stories told by the different pennies a few weeks ago.” These two half-crown prizes will bo posted from Wellington, with other prize money, about the first week in September. OUR MAIL BAG. JESSIE BARLOW : You are rather a naughty girl,, aren’t you? However, if you write to the page sometimes in the future, I shall forgive you ! Gordon’s name is on my roll. Yes, you have three h.c. and c. marks to your credit. NOEL HANNON: I am glad, nephew Noel, that you still take an interest in the page. How is Betty? I never hear from her now. Love to all. ALISON WINGATE: Thanks for the competition suggestion. The kisses and hugs were much enjoyed. Best love. PEGGY NEWLANDS: I was thinking of you the other day, and wondering what had become of you. Yes, you may have the nom-de-plume you mention. H.C. and C. marks are carried over from year-to-year; you have 16 to your credit. It is lucky that your name has not been “called” yet, or you would have missed a half-crown special prize. Love and = You are/very welcome, and your name has been put on my roll. The nom-de-plume you mention has not been taken. Love and best wishes to a new member. | OYA: I hope the concert was a great success. TOPPING: You have 13 h.c. and c. marks to your credit, gained since the special prize of 5s awarded you on 27th June. DICK DRUMMOND: Glad to hear that the chilblains are a little easier. Thanks for the nice kisses. MOEROA: Thanks for the offer—but cross-word puzzles are out of date these days. I did not miss the kissqp over the page 1 Best love. ROLL CALL: Frank Ritchie. , LITERARY CORNER. ' Favourite verses, short deecriptise passages out of well-known books, and opinions of various books will be published in this comer each week. Wherever possible iutlior’s name should be given. (More contributions are required). The/ following verses were sent by DOROTHR BAGNALL, judging by the handwriting; there is no name attached: Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of merry glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to mo. “Pipe a song about a lamb” : So I piped with pleasant cheer. “Piper, pipe that song again,” So I piped, he wept to hear. “Piper, sit thee down and write In a book that all may read”; So he vanished from my sight, And I plucked a hollow reed. And I made a rural pen. And I stained the water clear, And I wrote my happy song Every child may joy to hear. THINGS TO MAKE. Marks will be awarded for suitable

things to make —recipes, toys, fancy articles, etc. TO LOOSEN GLASS STOPPERS (FUZZ BUZZ, 1 mark). When the glass stopepr of a perfume bottle refuses to come out, try the following method to loosen it: — 1. Tap the stopper all round with a piece of hard wood or another piece of glass. 2. Let hot water run on to the neck of the bottle to expand it. 3. Heat the neck of the bottle by rubbing to and fro in a string passed round it once or twice and tied to a firm support. ROCK CAKES. (DOROTHY McISAAC —1 mark.) ilb flour; 2ozs sugar; 1 oz candied peel; 2 level teaspoons baking powder; 2ozs currants; 2ozs butter; 1 teacup milk; 1 well beaten egg. Rub the butter into the flour. Add currants, baking powder, sugar, peel. Then add egg and sufficient milk to make a stiff paste. Place in rocky bumps on greasy tray. Bake in moderate oven for about 15 minutes. These cakes can be varied by using dates, nuts, cocoa, etc., in place of currants. GINGER BISCUITS. (MERLE COLLIER—I mark.) Cream 1 cup clarified dripping and 1£ cups sugar, add i cup black treacle, i cup milk or water, 1 dessertspoon powdered cinnamon, 1 heaped dessertspoon ginger, a little spice, and vanilla essence, 1 tablespoon vinegar, and enough flour to make a stiff dough. (To the flour add 1 heaped teaspoon bicarb. 6oda). Roll out on floured board, cut into shapes and bake in a quick oven. GAMES. Marks will bo awarded for suitable indoor or outdoor games. Contributions are required. HOP, STEP AND JUMP STATUES. (TOPPING—I mark.) All players except one stand in a line. The leader orders them to “Start.” They must take a hop, step and a jump, and repeat it till they are suddenly told to “Stop.” They must remain in the position in which they happen to be until the leader slowly counts IU. If they move they are “out.” The .process is repeated till only one is left. RESULTS OF 14TH COMPETITIONS. (Continued from last week.) HIGHLY COMMENDED ENTRIES. MAORI STORIES. “IN MOARILAND LONG YEARS AGO.” (By TOPPING, 13 years.) “Oh, how I wish, I wish I were a boy 1” cried a dusky, dark-eyed maiden to her father, the proud chief of tho Ngateawas. < . „ “But you are not, my little Ngaire, ho replied, as he stroked the dark thick curls. “And the wahine must stay and cook for tho warriors. If you were a boy, my Ngaire, I would be a .proud father to see you show your skill in battle; but I know you will bo good and keep foolish ideas out of your little head.” Ngaire pouted as she turned her dark eyes on her father,' but her petulant expression vanished suddenly, and she said wistfully: “You must bo sorry, too, that I am not a boy to keep up our name and bo chief of your people when you’re gone.” They were interrupted suddenly by a Maori lad who told excitedly his story. “The Ruamais coming quick, massacred the pakehas up river 1” The Chief’s face betrayed no sign of what- he was thinking, but Ngaire knew that their small tribe would not stand much chance against the Ruamais tribe, and she paled. But the Ngatewas were not cowards, and they swiftly armed, and set off, singing their song of war. Ngaire watched them go wistfully, and wished that she were among them. She turned and walked back to the pa by a roundabbut route which led through her favourite bush. Sho was startled suddenly by a rustling of the bushes, and, not far away, between the trees, she saw tho form of a man. At first she thought it was one of tho enemy and quailed a little. Sho braced herself, and advanced towards the figure. Then, to her surprise she saw that it was Hongi, a youth of her own tribe. “Hongi 1” she gasped. “Why are you hero ? Did you not go with the other warriors ?” The lad turned his sullen brown eyes upon her with a guilty start. He was a good lad, but weak. He adored Ngaire — “Princess Ngaire” as he called her. On her part Ngaire was fond of him, and she was amazed to see him there. “You haven’t run away?” she gasped. “Oh, Hongi, tell me, tell me 1” I “As you say,” the youth replied, wearily. “I have run away. I’m sick of war. What good does it do ? I want to be with you, my Princdss 1” he burst out fiercely. Ngaire gazed horror stricken at him. “Oh, Hongi,” was all she could say with great reproach in her tones. “Do you nob see you are letting the tribe down? They need every man. War is terrible —everybody knows —but war has to settle this time with the Ruamais. Go, Hongi, and do your bit. Do you think I want you to go? But you must go all tho same.” Tho chief’s beautiful daughter spoke thus to the runaway with pleading in her voice. “When tho Princess commands I must obey,” said Hongi, in a resigned tone of voice. They made their way back to the pa together, for Hongi decided that it wus not safe for Ngaire to bo alone. On arriving at the oa she was told somo alarming news. She listened as if in a trance. Tho tribes had met and already tho men of tho Ngateawas numbered many less than had set out. Only old warriors, women and children remained at the pa. The old warriors were eager to go to battle, but there were the women and children to be looked after. Ngaire made up her mind that the old men should go, and she and Hongi would be tho sole guarders of tho pa. The people were doubtful at first of tho wisdom of tho l plan, but when Ngaire pointed out that if. the men went there would be much less chance of the pa being attacked, they hesitated no longer. All night the battle raged, and a message was brought at dawn. The Ruamais were advancing steadily, and Ngaire waited eagerly, but with apprehension, for further news. At noon she was preparing to take the occupants of the pa down stream to a pakeha settlement. Her father hated everything in connection with the white people, and part of this pride was in his daughter, but she knew it was the right thing to do. There were some canoes in good order on the river, and these she filled with women • and wailing children. The paddles of one she gave to Hongi, and of another to a sturdy young girl

OUR MOTTO: " CHARACTER AND PERSEVERANCE ”

and her mother. Then she stepped into the remaining canoe, and plied her young arms till she thought she must give way, but she clenched her teethj and rowed swiftly on. A young girl took the paddle after a while, and she rested her aching arms, singing a lullaby. Then she told stories to soothe the frightened childron. Soon she was back again at the paddle, working as hard, as she could. It was at dawn on the following day wheq three canoes arrived at the white man’s settlement. Their story was told, and they were given shelter and food, while a rescue party set off to help the Ngateawas, with Hongi among them. Some days later tfie Maoris at the pakeha settlement returned to tho pa. The combined Ngateawas and pakehas had won the battle 1

Ngaire ran to her father. “Where is Hongi?” she cried anxiously. “Hongi is among the wounded, my dear,” was the reply, “but it will not be long before he is well.” A week later Ngaire and Hongi sat together in the twilight. Hongi was crooning an old Maori love song to his Princess. And the old Chief of the Ngateawas smiled contentedly in tho background.

“THE LEGEND OF THE MOREPORK.” (By RALPH HOLMES, 14 years). . The broad sun rained down its pitiless beams on the string of men and women struggling up the hill on the summit ot which stood the pa of the groat demon, Tipo-te-Kira. Each person bore a large bundle of treasure, despoiled by the neighbouring tribes by their dread master the owner of the pa on the hill. Tipo-te-Kira was the curse of all the Southern Pacific. It was his wont to set forth from his stronghold on bloody raids. He would destroy whole villages, and whenever he passed through the forest a path of broken vegetation was left. As his slaves carried in his spoils, he laughed in evil glee at the thought of tho damage he had caused on his latest outing. Suddenly his laughter turned to a cry of pain, for one of the Maoris, a young man of noble appearance, had tripped, and his heavy pack of greenstone and whalebone had fallen on the foot of Tipo-te-Kira. With a cry of rage, he pointed at the unfortunate who had dropped the load and shrieked a dreadful curse. Now an ordinary mortal would have died a horrible death if this spell had been put upon him. But Mauapoko was no ordinary mortal. His grandfather had been a great tohunga, and had taught Mauapoke many things which were known only to a few. Consequently, when the demon commenced to put a spell on him, he merely muttered a few magical words to counteract it. Tipo-te-Kira, perceiving that his black arts had no effect, immediately flung himself at the youth in a frenzy of rage, inflicting a terrible wound in his breast. Mauapoke felt that he was dying, so, firmly taking hold of his adversary, he leapt into a neighbouring cooking-fire. That was the last ever heard of the two, but, as you walk through tho bush at night, you may notice a scurry at your feet, and see a grey shadow flitting through the trees. You will perhaps hear a sound something like “Mauapoke,” and you will know that it is the demon, Tipo-te-Kira, being pursued by his relentless fo'e, the Maori slave whom he so unjustly destroyed.' “HOW IT HAPPENED.” (By ROSALIE, 17 years.) Long ago there lived on an island in the Pacific a race of people who were just as fair and fine featured as we are. One half of the people, Hore’s tribe, were very clever at music and sports, while Ranu’s tribe wore clever at nothing. Of course Ranu and his people were jealous of tho others, and they were always thinking how they might do Hore and his tribe harm. This, in due time, they succeeded in doing, for one night they invited Hore’s tribe to a feast. Hore’s tribe, thinking that Ranu wished to make friends with them, prompttly accepted the invitation, but, when they arrived at tho. hut where tho feast was to be held, no feast was to be seen, but round the walls w(?Te barrels of oil. When all the visitors were inside, the doors were closed, and the barrels of oil were sot alight. There was a terrible ex-' plosion—the fumes of tho oil discoloured the unfortunate people’s skin, flying pieces of wood flattened their noses, and broke their bones. Many were killed, and tho few who escaped made off in canoes to find another land. For weeks they were buffeted about on a rough sea, and at last they found this country—New Zealand. Although their noses are flat, their lips are thick, and their skin is dusky, these people, whom we know as Maoris, have not lost their love of music and sport. "MAUI AND THE SOW THISTLE ’ (RARIKI).” (By HAZEL COLLINS, 7 years). Long ago when Maui whom the Maoris loved lived’ with the fairies, there grew in Maoriland a tall tree named lanuka. Its leaves touched the clouds, and its trunk was straight and strong. -It was tho tallest tree in the land, and was king of the forest. But tho Tanuka was unhappy for he wished to be useful as well as strong, and the tree knew he was useless to man and beast. His branches grew - only at the top of the tree and gavo shade to none, and no birds nested there. The timber was as hard as iron and unsuitod to man. So the Tanuka wept and told his woes to Maui. “I will tell the fairies what you wish,’ said Maui, and away ho went. Next day he came riding on a cloud. “Hark, Tanuka!” he said. The fairies will grant your wish, but you must be changed. No longer will your head reach the clouds, but you will grow in tho fields, small, but beloved by man and beast. Is it well?” “Lot me be useful,” said the tree. And so the great Tanuka became the lowly Rariki or Sow Thistle, prized so highly by the Maoris. “PAMA.” (By RONNIE DALEFIEI.D, 8 years.) A long time ago there lived in Taranaki a little Maori boy called Pama. Ho was very happy, and never had to wear clotheß like a pakeha boy does. Pama loved to go catching pigeons in the beautiful forests, and enjoyed eating them, too ! He had a flute made of bono from tho leg of an onomy, and ho played music on it all day long. Sometimes Pama’s father would go fishing, and take his little boy. On the gunnel of the canoe would bo fastened the dried head of an old enemy of their tribe, with the fishing line tied to one ear. • When the fish was hooked, the dried head always began nodding, and Pama would say: “Old Dried Head has caught a fish!” The hooks they used were made from tho bones of enemies, too, and the little Maori boy was proud and happy when ho and his father sailed home with the fine fish they had caught. There would bo a. great pot of kumaras cooking at the pa, to eat with the fish, and everyone would feast; and afterwards little Pama would go off to his bed of fern leaves, and dream of the great warrior that ho meant to be when he grew up.

“KAWAW, THE SLAVE BOY:” (By MERVYN DALEFIELD, 11 years). Many years ago, in the early days of pioneer settlement in New Zealand, tie was a little Maori village called Waiomu on the shores of the Hauraki Lull. There, beautiful Pohutakawa trees grew, and from the water’s edge to the mountain top was to be seen rich foliage ot every colour. Towering above all stooct the king of the forest—the giant Kauri. The tribo of Maoris who lived at this place were called Ngatitamatcras, and their chief was Te Kanini. Great fields of maize and potatoes were planted in the clearings. Everyone was very ousy and worked hard, for- were not the crops to be sold to tho Pakeha to enable the Maori to buy the guns and powder that he loved to possess? Now, the Ngatitamateras owned a little slave boy called Kawaw. They were not very unkind" to him, but they made him work hard, and never allowed him forget that he was only a poor slave boy, who might be cooked and eaten at any time. This little Maori boy could remember tho time when ho had been free and living with his own people. How happy he had been, roaming the forests and picking the bright scarlet berries 1 He had gone fishing too, with his father and mother, and caught and cooked tho Tuna. then how sweet was. the feast eaten off the freshly made platters of flax ! And now poor Kawaw wandered on the shore in the summer evening, and felt very sad. If only he had a boat he would sail away and find his tribe, lie thought. It was now getting late, and tho slave boy found that he had strayed from tho village, and must hurry back or lie would be punished. The Taniwha of the Haurika might come out of the water, too, and cat him up 1 Then he heard a cry, and, thinking it was the Taniwha, he was going to run away, when he saw that the cry came from a drowning man —a Pakeha. Now Kawaw, like other Maori boys, was a good swimmer, and, forgetting his fears of the Taniwha, he swam out and brought tho man to shore. He was very grateful, and said that his name was Wilson, and he understood the Maori language. Kawaw told him about his longing to find his own tribe. ‘‘l will help you,” said Mr Wilson, and he took the little Maori boy home in liis boat, which was close by. He was made very welcome by Mrs Wilson and her children, and next day he sailed away with Mr Wilson to find his people. On ancV on went the boat, and, just as the sun was going down in a golden sky, Kawaw cried with joy that he remembered tho village they were nearing—it was his home ! When the boat landed, there among the Maoris on the shore who cried “Haeremai 1 Haeremai 1” were his parents. They knew their boy again, and cried over him, and rubbed noses, as if they never wanted to stop. Mr Wilson was made very welcome, too, and he stayed in the village that night, and next day left for Auckland. On his return he made tho little Maori' boy proud and happy with a present of a gold watch. Engraved on it was —

“Kawaw-Kia Ora. From J. Wilson.” And now, no longer a slave, but > Kawaw roamed his native forests, > ts ho listened to the sweet songs ° £ Bcllbird and the Tui, there was .no saa ness, only joy, in the heart of the utuo Maori boy. “A MAORI MAIDEN’S SACRIFICE.” (By MOEROA, 14 years). It happened many years ago during a war botwoen the tribes. The fi ® r< i® N £ 0 hues had been storming the pah for t days, and the equally fierce, but weak 0 £ Tamah’as, had gradually grown s “ or j; provisions, and specially that vital nece sity—water* A council of war was he d. Chief Rewa presiding, but nothing coul be decided upon, for every man - w needed for fighting; not only .were they short of provisions but also warriors. In a corner of the pah a maiden, about the age of seventeen, was sobbing bitterly for was it not true that her llt j, brother had died of thirst? But ah! she has ceased. She sat thinking for a while, and then, with a great effort, walked up to Chief Rewa and spoke to him in earnest tones for some time. And why is another council being held so soon? . Chief Rewa commanded his warriors to be silent, and then, with many gestures, he related the following to them : “This Maori maiden, Pohutakawa, has suggested that she go to the Arakas, our I neighbouring friends, and ask them if they will send aid to us, as we will all die (of thirst if we don’t get help within two days; so after her pleading to go I have decided that this brave maiden shall do as she wishes.” A great clapping and cheering went up at this, and when it had subsided the Chief said that as soon as another attack was made Pohutakawa, dressed as one of the enemies, was to leave with them as they were driven back. Then she was to make for the Arakas’ pah as soon as possible. Next morning the Ngahues came storming down, and it was as much as the thirsty and tired Tamahas could do to keep them out. During the attack Pohutakawa slipped out and joined them. All turned out well and in the night she sped .as fast as possible to the Arakas. She obtained the consent of the chief, and, with provisions and hundreds of painted warriors, she quickly returned. The enemy were defeated, but in the midst of the battle a tomahawk struck Pohutakawa on the head, and the brave Maori maiden breathed her last- she had done her best for her tribe. CRISPIES. What would be worse than a giraffe with a sore neck ? A centipede with chilblains. . hat word of ten letters can be spelt in five? Expediency—X.P.D.N.C. What lives in winter, dies in summer and grows with its root upward ? An icicle. What is the difference between ammonia and pneumonia? One comes in bottles and the other comes in chests. (Sent in by BETTY HAMPSON.) * » • * ' “Rastus, how is it you have given up going to church?” asked Pastor Brown “Well, sah,” replied Rastus, “I like to take an active part, an’ I used to pass de collection basket, but dey’s give de job to Brothah Green, who returned from the war.” “In recognition of his heroic service I suppose ?” “No, Sah, in recognition of having lost one of his hands.”

Driving home from the party the , confronted her husband: ui»u never take you to another pa < 6he f fumed. “Why “You asked Mrs Jones how her iiu was standing the heat. “Well?” ... ‘Why, her husband has Dccn <]«#,- , . the past three months.” # * Mistress: My husband writes in, , gagements on his shirt-cuffs. I hop,': don’t mind. , , Laundry maid: “Oh, no, ma am, 1 . a bit’of scandal.” # * * Two women were leaning over a it';,, when another passed. ' First old woman: bee that r - there; she looked at me as though I liu.. - paid the rent.’-’ ■■■ Second old woman: \A hat did you u, First old -Woman:- ,1: looked at .w: L . though I had.” * * Wife: “Have, you shut up every „- for the night ?” .Husband (meekly) : Im sorry to ti;i my dear, that I haven t. . Jimmy • “My dad sowed what he thou, was lettuce seed, and' cabbages came o: Freddy: “Pooh! That’s nothing. y, dad sowed some carrot seed, and what you think came up?” Jimmy: “I don’t know. What; Freddy: “Farmer Gibbs’s old donky, and ate the lof. * * The children were quarrelling over the - game of cards, and little Ethel called oa tier mother *to remonstrate with Eric. “But, dear,” mother said, “it is no u.-,-your accusing Eric of cheating, because [ saw you doing the same thing a fewininutes ago.” ■ “Yes, mother,” replied Ethel, bir Eric docs it regularly—and I only do i-, when it’s necessary.” # # “I sav, did you hear what happened at the theatre last night ?” “No. What was it?” “The entire audience got up and walked ° U “Great scott! What for?” ” ’Cos the show was over, of course 1” REACHING THE PENNY. Place - a penny- on the floor, and ask a friend if he can pick it up while ho is standing two feetaway from it. It sounds easy, but this is what you must do. Draw a line two feet away from the penny, and tell your friend to put his toes to it. He may use one hand to pick up the penny, keeping his feet together, and he must not bend his knees.