THE CHILDREN’S HOUR.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1748, 6 September 1905, Page 15

THE CHILDREN’S HOUR.

(Conducted by “Uncle Robert.”)

“Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day’s occupations That is known as the ‘Children’s Hour.’ ” ' Any of our juvenile under sixteen years of a-ge, may become members of the Guild of “The Children s Hour,” by promising that in all they do they shall seek to be guided by the. following simple rules: — First—That we were created to enjoy life and help each other. Second—-That whatever hinders any one from enjoying life is wrong and wicked. Third—That it is our duty' to try and remove all such hindrances. Ail who agree with the above rules, and are willing to get others to subscribe to them, should send in their names and addresses for in sertion in the Guild “Big Book. 5> My Deal* Nieces and Nephews.—One of your cousins has told me that she likes those little verses which I gave you last week, and that she put all the “Children’s Hour” into her Scrap Book, beside two poems by “Molly’s Pa,'" wnich appeared in this column a few weeks ago. Listen. and I will tell you a secret if you promise not to tell everybody. Well, “Uncle Robert” and “Molly’s Pa” are one and the same, so you may expect to have some more “L.ttle Molly” poems from time to time. This little girl, says “Uncle Robert,” is a dear, and that she love® him, although she has never seen him. What a power Dove is! Money can do many things, hut Love can do more. Many of the noblest deeds recorded in the traditions and history of all nations : have been inspired, not by the desire for gain, but for Love. The mother for her' child, the miner for his entombed comrade, the life-boatman for the shipwrecked mariner, the patriot for his country, the heroic heart for his kind-—what will not Love inspire them to do and dare? Yes, Love is the greatest thing in the world. And so I should like you all to learn the following golden text:— “Lave is Life but Hatred is Death.” Can any of you tell me who it was who wrote that noble line ? It was written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, one of the sweetest of : ca’s poets. Hands up all of you who have read his sweetly pathetic poem, “Hiawatha!” Isn’t it a lovely legend, finely conceived amd very tenderly wrought out ? Those of you who have not read it must do so soon, and those who have read it. will be repaid by reading it a second time. After you have done so, I want you to write and tell me whatparts of the poem impressed you most. A few of the best letters will be printed so that other members of the Gu|jd may have the pleasure of read : ng them. Meantime, can any of you tell me from, which of Longfellow’s writings I have taken your Guild Text for this week P Let us repeat it: “Love is Life but Hatred is Death.” Again: “Love is Life but Hatred is Death.” Now, you must try and remember that all your lives. * * * We people think a girl must never be found playing at any games with boys, and that she should always be on her best behaviour, as if she were a model in a shop-window—made for people to look at. “Little Molly” is not that sort—not by a long chalk. No, she is just like Mr Brown’s, “Bess,” Mr Black’s “Jeannette,” and Mr Gray’s “Tom-boy Madge.” Yet with all her faults, also like these other girls, “Little Molly” has a very kind heart. Here is another of her favourite bits o’ verses: LITTLE MOLLY’S “MUM.” Some girls call their “Mum’’—“Mamma!” It iets my teeth, by gum ! It sounds so very r>rim and pert— Gee-hup ! I call mine “Mum.” And such a “Mum:!” Were you to search From where the icebergs come To earth’s warm centre, you’d not find •; Ai.ether such as “Mum.” Seine girls are always so correct, Their very blood seems numb; •But one ; that laughs, and romns, and ■ chats—• Why, that’s the girl for “Mum.” Of course, .sometimes, when things go wrong She looks a little glum; Ah, then we all do what we can To cheer our darling “Mum.” I know some girls vho’d gladly swop <. Their hope of Kingdom Come, If they could spend their earthly life W ith, such van other “Mum !” '■ » ■: * # One day a friend was visiting at our house and Little Molly’s sisters got her-

to repeat the above verses. After she concluded, the visitor patted her kindly on the head and said', “I see you’re mother’s girl, Molly.” But Molly at onoe replied, “I’se dad’s girl, too!” You see she was just like her brother Jockie, who, when he was asked to choose between an apple and an orange, said, “I like both best !” * # * Ones upon a time a little girl and her mother lived in a little cottage in the depths of a lovely wood. The little girl, who was called Lily, was up every morning with the lark, and it was her first duty to go to the spi*ing and fill her pitcher. O'ne morning it was very hot, and when she had filled her pitcher she sat down on the mossy bank to listen to the warbling of the birds overhead. As she was sitting there a sti*ange thing happened, for a “Wee Man,” chid all in brown, with little bell® hanging from his tall, pointed cap, came up to her and said, “Lily, would you like to come with me and see Fairyland ?” “Fairyland!” cried Lily. ' “The. Queen of the Fairies lias sent me to tell you she is pleased with you, because you .love the fairies. Come, follow me.” The “Wee Man” walked some distance off and whistled 1 ; then there was silence, and then a rushing sound, and from out of the trees appeared a lovely chariot, drawn by six snow-white doves. The “Wee Man” bade Lily get in, and off they went so quickly she could not see. At last they stopped, and the “Wee Man” jumped out and told Lily to follow him. lie led her to* a large cave,, which they entered, and as they neared the end of the cave Lily heard the most lovely music. “Here I must leave you,” said the “Wee Man,” “for I must not go beyond this cave. If you walk straight on you will come to Fairyland. Good-bye.” Then he was gone. Lily walked straight on till she came to a fairy clad in a dress of green, arid Lily saw she was the beautiful fairy of Spring, and was busy seeing to all the title spring flowers. Then she passed the fairy of Summer, clad in a dress of rose colour, and she was attending to all the summer blossoms. Next she came to the Autumn fairy, clad in shades of brown, and' it was her duty to garner all the ripened fruits and look after the falling leaves. Then she passed l the fairy of Winter, whose dress was white as the snow, and she was making the snow and the hail ready to fall when the Queen of the Fairies gave the command. At last Lily came to a beautiful grotto of crystal, and there, seated on the throne was the Queen of the Fairies, clad in a gown woven of sunbeams, and a crown of the sweetest wildflowers on her auburn hair. When she saw Lily she beckoned her to approach and said: “My child!, you believe in us, and are so good that I have let you come to see Fairyland, which I know was your one wish” All of a sudden Lily opened her eyes. Alas, she was lying on the mossy bank, the pitcher stood by her side, the birds were singing, and the little spring still murmured on its seaward course.

And now, what about those Jitters you were going to write me P Your affectionate UNCLE ROBERT.