HISTORY

Northern Advocate, 30 March 1937, Page 2

HISTORY

(Sent in by Doris Bingham, Oakleigh.)

The way they teach ns history is dull in the extreme; ft’s full of facts and figures: hut of inter’st not a gleam. We learn which king came after which, and whom they took to wife. But I should like to know some more about their private life. I’ve often seen a picture of Elizabeth, or Bess, , In stomacher and petticoat and flowing jewelled dress. Did they take very long to make? How many yards of‘stuff? How did the Royal laundry iron out the Royal ruff?

The Cavaliers wore flowing locks, their curls were long and fine. Did Charles the First use curling tongs in 1649? How did B.P. Charlie guard his j. “perm.” agaimt the weather? j Did he have it curled and powdered while he hid among the heather? Such lots of things I’d like to know that are now wrapped in mystery ! \ But think of this: Some time to come we shall ourselves he history! Perhaps in 3037 they may not know a thing About how the people looked and talked when George VI. ivas j King.

When Mother Steps Inside The Door. Sometimes when I come home from school, And Mother is away, The house seems awful quiet: In it I cannot stay. Fth glad to be out playing. But, oh! when she coines home, I run to meet her down the street; I feel no more alone. The house is full of love once more. When Mother steps inside the dooi . ■ —Copied. —Sent in by Cherry Borland, Matakohe.

A Scotsman took a young girl out one night, and kept her walking for a long while. Every theatre they went past, the girl would stop and look at the posters, give a big sigh, and remark she was very tired. However, the young man could not take the hint; but kept on walking. /They were passing another theatre when he happened to glance up at the glaring lights. He stopped and read: “The Woman Pays.” Grabbing the girl’s arm he said: “We go in here.”

(Sent in by Cherry Borland. Matakohe. Age 17). Andrew was six years old. More than anything in the world, Andrew wanted to be a policeman, exactly like the one who stands opposite the Midland Station. That policeman, I can tell you, knows everything. He is immensely wish. He wears large white cotton gloves on his hands, which he moves grandly this way or that. A tram, even the fullest tram will stop if he holds up a hand. Anything will stop. Is it any wonder that Andrew keeps saying, “Mother, may I be a policeman when I grow up?” Mother smiles, and says: “Perhaps” or “We’ll see what Daddy says.” And Andrew will say when Daddy comes home from business: “Daddy may I be a policeman like the one by Midland Station?” Then Daddy says: “Weil, you must regulate your own traffic first, for you are always getting in the way.” Andrew feels this to be stupid of Daddy, for traffic never knocks down a policeman. He holds up his hands and well there you are! One day last week Mother took Andrew and Baby to the shops. Baby was in the push-chair. The sun shone and the trams rattled, and motors flashed past, and little dogs barked. It was all very exciting. The policeman at the Station looked grander than ever. He looked down and smiled at Andrew and his little sister. “Mother” ’said Andrew, “do say that I may be a policeman when I grow up,” “Well,” said Mother, “we must see how you begin at managing the' vehicular traffic this afternoon.” Andrew thought this very funny. “What’s ‘viculer’? he asked. “Vehicles” said Mother,' “are carts, bikes, trams, motors and push-chairs. Traffic is all of them moving together.” “Now,” said Mother, “I’m going to Brown and Muffs. Just you stay here and mind baby.” ‘ • It seemed a long time to Andrew. Baby sat in her chair playing with Teddy. Presently Andrew wondered whether the toys were still in the window round the corner. He thought he’d have a look. So he left baby and went right round to the front of the big shop. No, it was too bad. They had taken them away. The window was full of ladies’ silly hats and things. He came slowly back. Mother came out of tne door.

“Where’s baby?” she cried. “Here,” said Andrew. “Where?” asked Mother sharply. “She-she-I left her just here,” stammered Andrew stupidly.

“Oh, Andrew!” cried Mother, and she rushed round the shop. Lots of babies; lots of push-chairs but not their baby. Andrew began to cry. He-d lost baby. ,

Mother looked white. “We must go to the policeman,” she said. Oh. poor Andrew. The policeman would know what he had done. And just at that moment the|/ saw Daddy. He was crossing the road with baby in the pram. “Oh!” cried Andrew, darting out. “Oh!” “Yes, I should think so,” said Daddy. “I came up just in time to see you desert your baby sister. So I thought

I would frighten you by taking her off. If I hadn’t come up, goodness knows what might have happened.” “My precious!” Mother cried and nobody knew which she meant —baby or Daddy—but certainly not Andrew. Andrew walked soberly along by Daddy. “Come along, old chap,” said Daddy, “you’ll have to be a bit sharper in looking after the vehicular traffic. No decent policeman would let a baby be stolen under his nose!”