A FLYING PIG

Manawatu Times, Volume 60, Issue 159, 9 July 1935, Page 4

A FLYING PIG

llow many boys and girls snow tliat while they are lying peacefully asleep in their quiet little beds the Flying Pig is racing through the air? It isn’t really a pig, because, as everyone knows, pigs don’t fly. It is a train which runs between Devonshire and London, bringing pork to the markets. And because the men who work on the railway are fond of it, they have given it this curious nickname. Bailwaymen are only little boys grown big, and just in the same way as they, used to christen their toy engine in the nursery days, so now they think of all sorts of appropriate titles for the great metal- trains that run up and down the lines. The ‘'Sauce” is a Worcester train, because it is there that the famous Worcester sauce is made, the “Carpet” belongs‘to the carpet town of Kidderuiinister, the "Pasty” runs, as you may well guess, from Cornwall, and the “Spud” (potato) from Cardiff. The ‘‘Farmer’s Boy” has a long journey to go, for it travels all the way from Bristol to Birkenhead. - The “Rasher” is a bacon train, puffing along between Swindon and Tavistock, while the “Sparrowgrass” carries asparagus from Worcester to Crewe. “’Here comes the old ‘Mopper Up,’ ” you will hear the porter saying. “Does she carry mops?” you ask. “Bless you no,” laughs the porter, “she mops up loose traffic between Paddington and Bristol, that’s what she does. ”

If you listen to railwaymen talking about the ’‘B. B. C.” train, don’t fancy they arc referring to a “special” belonging to the British Broadcasting Corporation, it is just an ordinary train-joining up Basingstoke, Birmingham and Crewe. And should they happen lo tell you about the “Pink Streak Flyer,” don't imagine it is something to do with a motor race—it is only a steady-going old goods train bringing truck loads of spring rhubarb from Yorkshire -to London.

Tiakitahuna. Dear Hub,—l think it’s time I wrote to you again. Doctor Gunn came to our school and told us that we had to drink five cups of milk a day but oh, Hub, 1 don’t like milk, although we live on a farm. On Friday night we had a fancy dress ball in the hall'. I went as a coster boy, my sister went as Rod Riding Hood, and my brother as a Chinaman. The little girl who won the prize was dressed as a country cottage and she looked pretty. We have several cows in now and we have two calves so far. Our school football foam played Long bum to-day. My brother is caplain of the team. As there is no more news, I will close now, with lots of love to you and ail the Cogs.

Ailsa Craig. When you drink milk, shut your eyes and pretend it is melted icecream. You are sure to like it then, and it. r call j is good for you. What have you called your calves?