LETTERS

New Zealand Times, Volume LII, Issue 12306, 28 November 1925, Page 16

LETTERS

Dear Fairiel, —I am at home from school to-day with a bad cold, go I will write to you. i It is nice and sunny, but there is a cold wind blowing. It always seems windy at our place. We live on a hill. We can see everything from both of the verandahs. Dear Fairiel, Christmas is very near now. Are you going to hang up your stocking? Grandpa always gets a rocoanut in his sock. I think its lovely going around on Christmas morning and looking at all the different stockings. I found three birds’ eggs at the gate 'as I came home from school. They were blue with black specks on them—daddy said they were eggs of a thrush —and as I was bringing them home I dropped them and broke. We have suoh a darling little kitten, and mother is going to buy a bell ana put it on her neck. Please, Fairiel, give me a nice name for her. We have three oats now, and a pet cow which we call Tiny. Dawn is sending you a little letter, and mother is guiding her hand. The little pussy cats on the end she has drawn all by herself.' Good-bye dear Fairiel; best love from JOY. .Tok Cook. Hamua. (O, hut I like a house an the top of a hill like that, don’t you. . . . it seems .on the top of the whole world,and the' sky 's so big I Call the wee kitten “Tinker-bell” ... after Peter Pan’s shadow, you know . . . and just “Tinker” for abort.—Fairiel.) Dear* Fairiel, —I wonder how many of our fairies and elves have "a “Maggie’s Doom” in their house? Well, iu case you don’t know what it is 1 will tell you. “Maggie’s Room” is a clipboard where things that are not wanted to he seen are kept. In our house, in “Maggie’s Room,” in a big box lies a beautiful doll dressed in lavender ivoolies. Do you know whom it is for? Why, it is “Shingle’s” birthday ou Saturday, and it is for her. She knows there is a bahy coming, but she doesn’t know it is so near. I will not tell you what her name is. hut Clarice will tell you about it herself at our next Ring. CLAUDIA. (Wo have a large cupboard, too, where everything that ever was lost probably lies hidden. It is called _‘‘tlie gas cupbonrd,” although there is no gas anywhere near. Every few years there Is a real “explore.” and everything is foufid ; again.—Fairiel.)