THE CHILDREN’S HOUR.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1797, 15 August 1906, Page 13

THE CHILDREN’S HOUR.

(Conducted by Robbbt.”) "Between the dark and' the- daylight. When the'night i® beginning to lower,, Cornea a pause in the day'® occupations That, ia known as the Children s Hour." • _ \ Any of' our juvenile readers, under sixteen years of age, may become members ot the Guild of “The Children 0 Hour, w promising that in all they, do they Bnall 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. AH who agree with the above rules, and are willing to get others to subscribe to them should send in their names and addresses'for insertion in the Guild “Big Book."' loth August-, 1906.

My Dear Nieces and Nephews.— Thero was once ,;n eastern merchant who, one very warm day, seated among his crockery-ware in his quaint openair booth, grew drowsy, and, falling asleep, dreamt he was the Grand Vizier of the Turkish Empire. And as his dream developed, it seemed to him that one of his old acquaintances, who was a servant in the Royal Palace, looked on him with disdain whenever ho passed him in any of the corridors, or among the garden paths. On one such- occasion Ho felt his dignity so outraged that he remonstrated' with the fellow, who, nothing daunted, retorted- with- a most, impertinent remark' .This, though a common experience of a crockery merohant, was more than a Grand Vizier could be expected to tolerate, and'so he turned to arid administered a vigorous kick at tlio insolent servant. There was a loud crash, and' the crockery. merchant awoke from his dream with a start: Alias! his kick had knocked over a basketful of lino crockery, which was broken and dripped to such an extent as to cause the poor merohant serious monetary loss. An d hi;s not his dream its lesson for us? No matter how high the position we may. be called on to fill, we should let pass all searing slights, as if wo saw them not. lie who seeks to revenge a slight to his dignity Joses that dignity, or rather never possessed any rest dignity. Dignity which< comes-fro> inth-O'position we hold is no true dignity., and one who stands on: liis dignity only is small indeed, and must ever remain -so. * * » OUR SBE’ILET SOCIETY. It was Lilian’s-idea:, and she suggested it one very wet afternoon in the holidays, when wo were tired of all our games, and inclined to be cross because wo couldn’t go out. ‘ Let’s have a secret society,” she said suddenly,, looking up from the book she had been- reading, “What sort of secrets?” asked Arthur, looking, puzzled. “I don ; t know,” confessed Lilian. “Br my book it talks about a secret society, but it doesn't say. what the secret was.” “Well, is it for ‘telling’secrets or‘doing’, secrets ?” persisted’ Arthur. Stanley looked up hopefully. “Let’s have secret adventures!” lie suggested’, eagerly. Daisy shook her head sadly. “I’m on, my honou-r as the eldest not to\ get into any more scrapes these holidays,” she " said, disconsolately. “You know wo all had to stay in bed with colds after that Polar expedition wo had, and I promised father not to have any more adventures.”' “Let’s liave a society for doing ‘good’ 'secrets,” said Lilian. “Lot’s all do- something to please mother and. dad and nurse, and keep it quite a secret.” Tlio boys didn’t think this sounded , very exciting; but in the end we all agreed- to try it, anyhow. . Wo ivrote out a lot of rules, and signed our names to them. Then we wondered what secret things we could do.

Suddenly Margery remembered the big rent she. had torn in. her coat while scrambling through a hedge. She hated darning, but as she wouldn’t think of anything else, she fetched the work-basket and lier coat. That reminded' Daisy of the little bags she hath promised to* make for mother's buttons- and tuples- and reels of cotton. Arthur and Stanley decided' to mend up some of baby's broken toys, and' Lilian' found' the sheets nurse was ■hemmiiigj.ancl sewed' .quite a long piece with, tiny, tiny stitches. Somehow,, it wasn’t k> dull working for/ fuuy and. - we* enjoyed* ourselves immensely,. although wo* had a great scramble to get everything put away again Before nnnse . cimmo to. give us our' tea 1 ; Wo enjoyed the secret part of it. afterwards*; too; Nurse's- puzzled, laca when shoe took. up her. sawing again,, and’, found, such a lots done,, made Lilian* and; fchei others* exchange.' amused glances, and Margery nearly

let nurse guess by laughing outright. Mother looked so' pleased when she found the: neat little bags in her workbasket, and said, in astonishments “Why, who has made these so beautifully?” But we didn’t toll, only Stanley hugged Her and' said: “It’s a secret, mummy, dear.” Our secret society lasted all the holidays, and it was surprising what heaps of things we found to do. It was quite exciting, too, keeping such a lot of secrets. Of course, we didn’t always do things right. Once when Lilian and Margery made some cakes for tea to surprise mother, they forgot to put any sugar in them, and then we had to own up* or 000 k might have been blamed. But wo all enjoyed it so much that when we go home for our next holidays we’re going to start another secret society. * * * Here are some nice verses by “Will Carter” RINGS OF BLUE. In easy chair my father site, And Nell is at his knee, While mother clears the things away And tidies after tea; And little Jack, the daddy’s .pet, Runs quickly from the room To pluck a cleaner for the pipe From mother’s kitchen broom. The la-m]i is held, the doth is on — The circle is complete, With “Jockey Jack” on father’s knee, And Nell at mother’s feet. “Soma rings,” we cry, “some pretty rings. Please, dear old daddy, do-; Just like you made the other night, Some pretty rings of blue.” And father, bless his kindly heart, To please the merry schoolPuffs loud and fast to gather steam. Then takes a mighty puM, And. makes a funny •‘button” mouth, And softly whispers "Woo!” As, forth on fairy wings, they fly, Those pretty rings of blue.

And how we shout and glance in glee, And chase them round the chair Out past the lamp to wear them all, As bangles of the air And happy, too, is lie, the king Of all our hearts so true; When seated in his easy chair, He blows the rings of blue. *- -K- * THE UNEXPECTED GUEST. They were having a little picnic. The table was set on a flat rock, and the dobs had a place at this table and real plates. The paper dolls were too small to come to the first table, and so they were put to sleep in a branch of a tree. Natalie was baking the biscuits in the oven down by the brook, and Molly was busy cleaning the receptionroom over by the swing. There was to b 9 a tea at four, and many guests were expected. They worked with a will. What would have been said if mother had asked for so much sweeping and dusting at home? Molly brought up the biscuits (which mother had really given them), and they set out. the cakes and the jelly. The table looked quite festive. “Now we must get ready to come,” said Molly. So they put on their hats and prepared t-o take the part of guests—having completed the part of housekeepers. They walked away down by the brook, and delayed respectable time for expectation among the dolls. “It is a fine afterno-on,” said Molly, in a mincing voice. “I iiopo all the people won’t be there before usl am afraid we are a little late.” “Yes, I am sure we are,” said Natalie, “for my carriage was delayed by an accident,” And then, at that very minute, they saw how much too late they were, for Fido was seen standing in the very middle of the banquet-table; the jolly was overturned, the biscuits scattered, and the cakes eaten. What scampering there was 1 They forgot that they were Mrs Bronson and Mrs Van Dyke. They were just Molly and Natalie, and very angry little girls. Fido was chased away, where he sat in disgrace under a tree, and all the preparations had to be made again. It took them eome time to repair the damage. “I don’t believe the caterer will bring those cakes after all,” said Molly, trying to make the best of it. “I am afraid our guests will be disappointed.” Natalie looked at the dolls, staring at the hoard. “They don’t show it; they are too polite,” she said. They were, indeed, and one would never have guessed that they minded at all, for the dolls had slept through it all.