C is for CONSTABLE

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22777, 10 July 1937, Page 8 (Supplement)

C is for CONSTABLE

—TIMOTHY TAR'S NEW ALPHABET *

j The blue-clad constable in London is one of 56,000 j policeman who patrol the streets of Britain. There are 180 i separate police forces in England. Each force j is controlled by a group of people who have | been chosen to direct local affairs. These I groups of people are called Local GovernI ments. But the Central Government at Westj minster has some control over the j local police forces. It has a deI partment called the Home Office, j which sends men round to inspect | K-fJ local police forces to keep up i their standard of efficiency.

JUNE McLAREN.—Once you have joined any " Circle " you may send in entries. Mark whether copied or original. Address all letters to " Gwendolyn," c.o. New Zealand Herald, Auckland. MARIE ALCHIN.—Your poem, "The View," was a good attempt. IRIS REEVES.—Your ideas for stories are delightfully fresh and original, but you must be more careful of your grammarGo over each tale again and again substituting words until it reads smoothly. In "The Garden of Delight " you typed a whole page without breaking it for paragraphs. If sending type-written entries in future please double spaee the lines. MADGE HOGWOOD.—It is a pity your kingfisher cannot be reproduced in colour. You have got the blue of the wing very truly. The article on oyster-picking is interesting and will appear later. VALERIE REID.—I laughed heartily over your description of the " Coronation " of the Honourable Lady, but think the words used were far too long and difficult for children to read. BERYL McKENZIE—The little poem was not quite up to publication standard. Keep on trying. NANCY JOHNSON. Your story was amusing and the verse well written. Please write in ink when possible. How would " Cora " do for the calf, as it is red and white and born in Coronation month? ROSE RALPH.—The world must have looked very lovely that Sunday evening. I know how cold the mornings are down there. The poem is too well known to publish again. JOAN SCHWARTZ—You seem to have been kept busy with your • embroidery. " Wand-drill " does sound interesting. JOAN PILSON.—I am sending for a penfriend for you. You did not give your age.

pened to be passing the window where I had been placed, and glancing in noticed nio tucked away in my corner with a ticket beside me saying: Special sale. Reduced from 12s 6d to 4s 6d. Great value." The tramp stopped and with a grunt entered the shop. Ten minutes later I was put in my box and given to toy buyer, my old master having received four whole shillings and six whole pennies from the delighted tramp. I wondered as ] jogged along in my box tinder the old tramp's arm what was going to happen to nie~ and what it would feel like to be free in the world. Free to go to the places 1 wished to, and I was soon to find out. The next day happened to be a Sunday and to nn* delight 1 was taken from my box and worn in place of my owner's other very shabby shoes, to a small country church. ]t was rather dull at first, but I found it more interesting at last, when 1 made friends with a very happy, comfortable-looking pair of boots sitting next to me. 1 had the pleasure of being with my new friend on the walk from the church to the nearest village, where our two masters parted. For half an hour I was walked around the village, being placed in the most peculiar attitudes whenever my proud owner had the opportunity of showing me to any of his friends. At last he turned in the direction of his home. On the way, however, he happened to pass the cottage where a bootmaker friend of his lived, and. feeling me pinch a little, scribbled, "Please take, Bill," on a piece of paper, and slipping me off placed the paper inside me on the doorstep Early next morning the milkman gave his daily call, and seeing "Please take" on the perfectly good pair of shoes, lie did so without hesitating. Hut, ah! On arriving home alter his work and trying 111 c on he discovered ine several sizes too small lor his largo feet, even without the well-worn socks. So 1 was placed in the rubbish, where I lay among some old tins and veryunpleasant cabbage leaves for a day and a night. Then came a very old Chinaman in an equally old cart. For many years he hat used old shoes for brake leather, and finding me far too big lor him, soon ha me cruelly nailed to his wooden brakes.

And here 1 am rapidly being worn to a shadow holding back his rickety old cart on steep hills. , At least 1 am saving bis poor, tirert horse some effort, which is a more useful end than being sent to the rtibbisn tip.