BEDTIME TALES

New Zealand Times, Volume LII, Issue 12247, 19 September 1925, Page 16

BEDTIME TALES

KINGS AND QUEENS. , PART 11. At last Friday afternoon came, when the work of the week was over, and a beautiful twenty minutes was left, for their very own, with Miss Hart. And just then, before anybody had. time to think, Miss Hart was called from the room. She was gone only a few minutes, but, when she came back, she stopped on the threshold in surprise. She had left the third class a roomful of active, expectant children; she returned to see a group of royalty—forty little crowned heads, held aloft in great dignity on forty pairs of prim shoulders, squared and set under the weight of majesty! Just for a momene there was an uncertain pause—then Miss Hart made a dignified bow, and royalty gave way to laughter. “Yours is on the desk,” said Molly, and Miss Hart immediately crowned herself with the little gilded band of cardboard she found there, and looked around approvingly upon the sea of nodding and waving diadems. Such a pretty picture it made! Each child had pleased her fancy, according to her resources. Jessie’s crown was a wreath of flowers, which teacher remembered had been on her hat in the summertime. Gay strands of worsted woven with strips of paper adorned Ethel’s head. Glittering tinfoil pasted on spikes of cardboard ran around Jacob’s swarthy temples. And even John, as' Miss Hart noticed with a smile, wore a crown of wire, twisted into a pretty fantastic figure and strung with bright coloured. beads. There were just as many kinds of crowns as there were children, and each king and queen was a? happy as his neighbour! “Tell us a story, please. Miss Hart?” said Alice. “About a king, please,” added Bessie. "Yes! Yes! About a king!” cried all. Miss Hart thought a moment. Ihen she said: “I believe I will tell you Ruskin’s story of the ‘King of the Golden River.’ Your lovely crowns make me think of it, because money and gold and jewels have not been needed for them.” “I saw a picture of a crown made of leaves, tied with a ribbon behind, and so I made mine like that,” said Nettie, turning around to show the ribbon. ’ “Bessie and I made ours together,” said little Irene, “but they’re different, too. They’re just paper, you know, Miss Hart, but mother showed us how.” “John twisted the wire for mine, and we divided the beads,” said Dolly. “They’re lovely,” said teacher, "all of them. But, better than the crowns are the royal hands and hearts that made them. • It’s been a happy week, hasn’t it, children?” "We’ve had lots of fun, Miss Hart,” said Freda. Then Miss Hart told them the story of little Cluck, who lived in Treasure Valley, and who, because of his kind and loving heart, won the help of the King of the Golden River, so that, where blight and famine had been, peace and plenty reigned. And she ended Jt with Ruskin’s own words: “ ‘And thus the Treasure Valley became a garden- again, and the inheritance, which had been lost by cruelty, was regained by love.’ ” “I like that story, Miss Hart,” said Bessie, “but there isn’t much about the king in it, is there?” : “I think little Cluck was the true king, don’t you?” said teacher, “though he never wore a crown!”-

HIDE-AND-SEEK IN THE JUNGLE,

It was hot and sultry in the jungle. Everybody appeared to be asleep, except Hutee Boy and Baby Hippo. They played about in the river and had a great frolic. Baby Hippo dived to the bottom and walked along the river-bed for five minutes, which was the longest she had yet remained under the water at one time. She hoped to learn to remain under eight minutes by the time she’ was gjown up, Hutee Boy could not dive under the water, but he swam about spraying his roly-poly back with his trunk, which was almost as good. “None of those spotted and striped animals could do that,” said Hutee Boy, grinning at Baby Hippo as she came to the surface. “Do you remember how we cried one day because we had no beautiful spots and stripes like the tigers and leopards and giraffes?” asked Baby Hippo. “Indeed, I do. Weren’t we silly? What good are spots and stripes?” said Hutee Boy. “I’d rather be able to walk under water as you do or to have a trunk like mine than to have the most beautiful spotted or striped coat in the jungle.” "So would I,” agreed Baby Hippo. “Spots and stripes are pretty, but they are no use whatsoever, not the least little bit ol use. Now I must go and take a siesta, the rest of the herd is asleep already. Good-bve.” Hutee Boy tried to call her back, but she had quite disappeared under the water. Soon he saw her come out on the far side of the river, where she made a bed for herself in the mud near the other hippos. He wanted somebody to play with. He thought it rather stupid of the others to sleep so much. It grew hotter and more sultry. For days there had been no rain. The grass had turned yellow, and now the sun shining through the trees made it motley with shadows. Hutee Boy folded his chubby little feet under him, and lay under a tree waiting for somebody to wake up. Sometimes the motley shadows appeared to move, which seemed strange to him, for there was no wind. The leaves did not stir. He must remember to ask Mistress Hippo about that. He gathered grass with his trunk and threw it on his back as he had seen big elephants do. Then he tried to think of something else to amuse him, but could not, so he gathered some more grass' and threw that on his back. Then he shut his eyes and yawned. When he opened his eyes he was surrounded by many young tigers and leopards and jaguars and giraffes. “Wherever did you come from so quickly?” he asked, greatly surprised. They laughed, and said that was their secret. They invited him to play hide-and-seek with them. This was just what he wanted—somebody to play with—so he was on his feet in a jiffy and ready. ' Fie was to shut his eyes and count nine while they hid. He smiled to think how easy that would be, for he knew they could not go far in such a short time. But, will you believe it, when he opened his eyes, not one of those little spotted and striped creatures was to be seen. There was no place near by for them to hide—no trees large enough for them to climb or to hide behind, no big rocks, no sand piles. What could have become of them? “I must have dreamed that I saw them,” he told himself. “I must be asleep like the rest of the jungle.” So he lay down again. When he looked up, there stood those spotted and striped youngsters again. And how they did laugh ! He flapped his ears, rolled his eyes, and twisted his trunk into a question mark— ? ? ? Then they told him they would disappear right while he was watching. And, sure enough, they did. Right while he was looking at them, they ran over the yellow grass, where the shadows were, and disappeared. They seemed to melt into the grass and shadows and trees. Hutee Boy shook himself to see if he was awake. Yes, he was awake all right. Very much awake! And there were those mischievous youngsters back again. “You see, spots and stripes are some use, after all,” they told him. “We would just like to see an elephant or a hippopotamus disappear,while you are looking at him. We were right there among the shadows while you and Baby Hippo were talking about stripei# and spots. We heard every word you said.” This made Hutee Boy feel queer. He did not think he would like to look like part of the scenery. He was quite sure that, after all, he preferred his plain coat to their fancy ones. Who would wish to be taken for part of the landscape? My, wouldn’t Baby Hippo laugh when he told her!