LETTERS

New Zealand Times, Volume LIII, Issue 12507, 24 July 1926, Page 16

LETTERS

love and some kisses.—Yours lovingly, CLAUDIA. Claudiv Brow ie, Lyall Bay. Hear Fairiel, — To-day l was outside making a bontl to sail at the seaside. When I had finished it my mother said I would soon be a carpenter. , My little brother is only five and he takes a page from the ‘“Times” and calls it his Fairiel page. Every morning f see hundreds of birds flying towards Karori, and they fly back at- evening. I am going to bed now. —Your loving Elf, ALAN. Alan Shaw, Wellington. Dear Fairiel,— Although I have not been telling von about everything around me I hav« been sitting in a quiet corner listening to other children. Last term w« had a Canada dnv # that u; all the export* of Canada, Tho best writers in the class wrote anv Irttle pieces of reading about Canada. We all had to draw maps of Canada and put the export*, as for wood we would put little pieces of match-stick, and 6o on. Two girl? made a small wigwam, crowned with feathers and decked out in beads and other feathers, by which tw’o Indians sat. Four girls dressed up as Indians and squaws. I was an Indian, and had a bow and arrow and s tomahawk. We also brought pictures and drawings of Indians and saved up as many Canadian export labels as we could. In the holidays we had a concert (four girls and T\. which we had at our house, a«* I thought of it. It wae in aid of the Dr Bamardo’s Homes, and everybody who came paid some silver coin, and Mother gave them all tea afterwards.—Your loving Fairy, DOROTHY.’ Dorothy Clarke, Masterton. iimmimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiii ■PY FAMILY!

Dear Fairiel, — We have had a most exciting weekend. It started on Friday night. Mum and Hil. and I were in the sitting-room, waiting for Dad to come to tea, and Stan, and Clarice were playing houses under the kitchen table, which was already set. Whether “Precious” was the lady visitor, or the mother, or the haby, I don’t know. But judging by the laughter they were , having a good time 1 Then there was a silence—a shriek—a rush of feet and slam of doors When we opened the kitchen door a terrible sight met our eyes—the table was all in flames! After we had extinguished the flames we found the charred remains of poor “Precious” underneath the table. Beside her lay a box of matches . • . Poor little Clarice’s heart nearly broke. She just looked—her eyes as wide as could be, and her lips pressed tightly together. Mother said, “Where’s Stan?” Stan, was missing. She went from room to room looking for him, and where do you think he was? In bed, fast asleep. His long dark lashes resting on his pale cheeks, he looked the picture of innocence. When we wanted to know how it happened, Clarice said thnt Precious couldn’t see under the table, so Stan, lit a match. And that’s the end of poor Precious. “No more celluloid toys come into this house,”, said Daddy. “While there’s mischievous hoys about anyhow.” Clarice is sick, but she sends her 111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 THE WHOLE HA 1