CHILDHOOD'S LOTUS DAYS
to I
By DENIS DUNN, Illustrated by MINHINNICK
THE shrill laughter of children and the ' patter of small feet came from the garden. It came ■ f r om the garden because Ponder au d I had expelled it from the liv-ing-room. "Gay untroubled youth," said Ponder. "Heigh ho!" ./ '-'Childhood's lotus days!" 1 agreed, "Ah me!" We smiled kindly at each other with the auction of latherhood. Then, stirred by tbe same impulse, wo tiptoed to the window and peeped out. Our two young limbs, my Lancelot Sidney,i and his Kitchener Eden, were arranging the , frame. "I'll be the R.A.K.," said my son, "and you'll be a iyhopping great tank factory in Berlin." . ■ "Shan t, said Ivitchener Eden, sul- ! lenly. '/Don't be soppy," said the R.A.F. Kitchener Eden gave in and the game began. Ponder's offspring took up a ■ position at. the. far oiitl of tho garden. Jly son stuck both his arms horizon- ; tally, and crying "B'rrr! B'rrr!" be- . gaii to approach Kitchener in a series of spiral runs. When within range, my son took a half-brick from his pocket, and hurled it at the tank factory. . The tank factory ducked, tucking its head between its arms and turning its curved end or outbuildings toward tbe attacker. i' The British machine, bounding in the „ air, and bawling "Coo! Watch me dive!" rushed at the recumbent tank factory and 'kicked it smartly in the outbuilding.
"Cheat 1" roared the tank factory, clenching its fists. "All our machines returned safely," said the R.A.F., striking an attitude. "What they pick up!" whispered Ponder. "It's the radio. I suppose." "Not always!" I cried hoarsely, because the irritated factory had picked up a loose section of the crazy paving and was advancing on the R.A.F. with a bloodshot eye. "Fainits!" said the R.A.F., quickly. "Oh, very well," said the mollified building. "Let's play horrors of total war?" Ponder turned pale. "I let that drop at breakfast," lie muttered. "Shows how careful one has to be." "S-sli," I chuckled. "How do you play it?" asked my heir. "Well," said Kitchener, slowly, "one lot does 'troeities on the other lot." "What's a trocity?" asked my son. "Well, Daddy says my Aunt Muriel is one," replied young Ponder, puzzledly. "Oh, Absalom . . . Absalom!" groaned the remorseful Ponder, as I collapsed, helpless with giggles, on the sofa. "J know!" said mv son, suddenly. "Let's have a nnrmistice!" "Wnssat?" asked the foe. "First of all, i stab you in the back," said my son, simply. "Why?" asked tlie victim with keen interest. "I don't know," said my son, "but it's part of it. L stab you in tho hack and then we chuck fighting each other,, surrender our swords, and unite against the common foe."
"All right " agreed Kitchener, "stab me,. but not hard." My son stabbed him and then began a most impressive ritual. Both belligerents took up positions facing one another. "I come in peace," he said, raising his right hand. "How!" (He got that bit from "Sought by the Sioux.") "All right," agreed tho enemy. "I come in peace, too. How!" You give us all you've got and wo chuck fighting you," said my son. "Very well," agreed the enemy, "but what do we do next?" "We ring all tho church bells and have joy," explained my son. The next minute the two of them, roaring "Dong! Dong! Dong!", were galloping about like maddened things!
"The flower beds!" gasped Ponder and I, simultaneously. We were down the stairs in a trice and routed both armies with well-placed kicks to their dual rearguards, "Imps!" chuckled Ponder. "lndfeed!" I grinued. Alter tea I took Ponder down to my shed at the end of the garden where we both potter about with amateur photography, I opened the door. The tin full of wet earth, stones and dead leaves, caught us both neatly in the napo of the necks. "What the ... !" roared Ponder. "Booby-trap!" I gulped. "The impertinent young devils!" he stormed "Wait till I catch 'em! What do thev take us for?" PicKing leaves and rubble from my collar, I replied. "1 rather think," I said, with a flash of insight, "that they have taken us for tho common foe!"
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Bibliographic details
New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXVII, Issue 23767, 21 September 1940, Page 11 (Supplement)
Word Count
702CHILDHOOD'S LOTUS DAYS New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXVII, Issue 23767, 21 September 1940, Page 11 (Supplement)
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