A Letter from Alice

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume LXXII, 10 December 1938, Page 12

A Letter from Alice

Dear Boys and dirts, Well, another big excitement, the Motueka Show, has come and gone. Alice went out there, hoping to meet some of her members, but goodness! Everyone was in such a rush and hurry she felt Quite forlorn. Then again, White Rabbit decided not to go. He doesn't like flooded rivers and water races and said with great dignity that it wasn’t good for him to get his feet wet. “I shall have to go without you then,” said Alice regretfully. “That is Quite all right!’ answered White Rabbit with a noble look on his face. “Just took at that enormous pile of entries in the Christmas Competitions. I shall open them for you while you are gone.” Alice was as pleased as could be that so many entries came in at the last moment. She was Quite sure her members 'wouldn’t disappointed her. But at present there are a large number of boys and girls on the sick list, and she is afraid many of them were unable to enter the competitions for this reason. If this is the case, Alice says to them, “Never mind. We shall have more competitions later on.” Just think, girls and boys. Only one week to go, and we shall have our very first Christmas Rage. Isn’t it exciting? For most of you school will be finished for the year by then, and with six weeks’ holiday ahead and Christmas not far away, life will seem tremendous fun. Alice got so worked up thinking about it, that she couldn’t do any work. “For goodness sake sit still just for a moment,” implored White Rabbit, who was making out a long list of his relations. He ttys them a lettuce each, or perhaps a pint of peas if he is very fond of them, and it really makes Quite a large order when it is finished. “Oh, I don’t think l could," declared Alice, running to the window where she could look out at the blue sky. “The world is so full of a number things Tin sure we should alt be as happy as kings,” she cried. White Rabbit looked up from his list. “Who said so? he wanted to know. Alice thought for a moment. “I believe it was Robert Louis Stevenson; yes, it was, Tin certain of it.” But White Rabbit wasn't listening. He was too busy counting . . ■ sixty-three, sixty-four, sixty-five, sixty-six ...” , Shall we leave him to count in peace,boys and girls? I think we ought to, don t you? But don’t forget to look for “The Mail” next Saturday, will you? Because it will contain our special Christmas Page with the results of the Christmas Competitions and the prise-winning entries in story, verse and letter. “Seventy-two, seventy-three, seventy-four . . .’ Hasn’t White Rabbit an enormous number of relations? And he hasn’t finished yet! Yours on tiptoe, ALICE.