Dot's Little Folk

Otago Daily Times, Issue 22825, 9 March 1936, Page 15

Dot's Little Folk

ISJ Inaugurated July 16,1886,

° by tKe OTAGO WITNESS

Dot Invites short letters from her young friends throughout ikt Dominion on matters of Interest to themselves, New members must enclose their name and address. These will sot be published, and are lor registration purposes only, tittle Tolk should write on one aide of the paper only, and In Ink, and should address their letters, " Dot, earo of Editor, Wage Dally Times." Dot's Little Folk's Bade*, with pin, for us* as a brooch, Is obtainable on application tt Dot. Price Ss Bd, la stamps os postal notes.

THE WEEK'S POEM. This poem, written in the style wo call " freo verse," might well express the ieellngs of a cave boy, children, so I have chosen it for you for this week. If you can And any better poem on the subject, copy it out and put it with this and the article following It in your scrapbooks. DOT. THE CAVE DOOR. Through the wild and exultant flame of our flra Is fitfully seen the high black wall of the mountain, Its edge pine-fringed, Its summit a steely point on the stars. Beneath, the snow-swollen torrents roar. Rending the night with their solemn thunder. Around us, the sombre pine stems Are dyed to a dull red glow in the flames, And afar, through the long-flngered branches, The high snows gleam. An owl hoots suddenly overhead. From far up the cliff an answer returns.

The sky Is awake, the darkness ablaxe With the presence and splendour of night. —T. S. Hoyland. ' * *► 4 s THROUGH THE CENTURIES. II. —THE LATER STONE AGE BOY. To-day, when we were out In the pastures watching our reindeer herds, there was a sound of galloping, and suddenly, across the plain there went a score of wild horses. How swift they were! Had the men of our tribe not been.out hunting the bison, they would have tried to catch one of them, for horse flesh is good to eat, and horse hide makes good clothing. We watched them till they were out of sight, and now we arc back in the cave I seem to see them still. I shall try to draw one on the wall of the cave as I have seen my father do. I am proud of my father. He la tall ana straight and can talk to me and tell me what he wants me to do. He and the other men of our tribe are artists —the first artists In the history of the world —and they paint and draw pictures on the walls of out cave, and also earve outlines of bison and reindeer and horses on flat, smooth pieces of bone. It is good to watch them. First they nun-' grind the oxides of iron and manganese ore from which their yellow, black, and red j paints are made and put them into troughs. Then they must scoop out a hollow bone and , stop it at one end to hold the brlght-hued i powders. Sometimes I am allowed to help instead of merely looking on. .And always I hold the stone lamp high, so that the light will fall on the cave wall and be of help to the artist. It Is good to have lamps—little shallow stone bowls where we burn the fat of the animals we kill. Warmth is good, but light is good, too, and makes our cave far better to live In than the dark rough lairs of the anolent Stone Age boy. His people were hunters, but mine are herdsmen. We are learning that animals may be kept and used, as well as killed and Perhaps It Is because we live as much outside as In our caves that we love painting, for we can see how beautiful the world is and how varied are its colours. At any rate, we paint our own bodies also with the red and black and yellow paints ■we use, and feel as it we were clothed, for the paint Is an adornment. Yet sometimes there are other things to wear, especially for children —glittering garments made of tiny shells pierced and threaded together in the cleverest way. Most children grow up and leave their shell cloaks behind them. But the children that die keep the cloaks wrapped around them, and are burled In them, bo that they shall not be, cold or poorly clad in the other world* Our weapons are still of flint, but now they are of polished flint and of stone —hatchets and adzes, gouges and chisels,

scrapers and discs lor working -with, and axes, lances, spears, arrows, mauls, and hammers for fighting with. All are made of polished stone like the little- lamp, that gives us our light. No wonder this is called the Stone Agef '■;,; '*'**";.* t6*ALL ' : /r , Dear Little Folk, —Now we have' the Neolithic or Later Stone Age boy, about 10 000 years B.C. Like the Paleolithic or Ancient Stone Age boy, he lived in a cave; but already he was growing more like a human being and less like an animal, for his people knew how to polish stone and make lamp light, and tame flocks and herds for.their use, and also, to paint and draw and carve in the manner of artists. Next week 1 shall tell you about another Neolithic Period boy who lived, not In a cave, but somewhere else., If you want to add interest to your scrapbooks this week, see if you can find any examples of cave paintings and drawings, or a picture of a lamp as used in the Stone Age.—Your loving . THE FANCIES OF FERN. Something to Amuse the Younger Little Folk. CHAPTER lI.—FERN AND THE FAIRY. One day when Fern was one year old, Mrs Octavius Smith set her down on a rug in the garden, and Fern tumbled Into fairyland. Oh, not very far away! Mrs Octavius Smith would never have permitted that. But just under the fuchsia bush with its hanging lanterns. Fern was sitting there gurgling delightedly when she wobbled and lost her balance, and there, when she Anally came to rest, she had rolled off the rug to beneath the fuchsia bush. There were crowds of interesting people in fairyland—big fairies, little fairies old fairies, young fairies—but the one that Fern liked most was a fairy baby, one year old. She was lying on her back with her toes in her mouth, and Fern and she became friendly in an instant. Now what follows really happened in baby language; but as such would be too hard to understand unless your memory is so good that you could translate freely were I to set It down as It was actually said, I think I had better be your interpreter. So imagine the scene—mortal baby and fairy baby engaged in conversation —and listen to what they said. Fern : Oo ! Someone little like me! Fairy: And like me, too. Are you one? Fern: Yes. Are you? And will you be two next? Fairy: So they say. Two must be wonderful to be! • ~ Fern- Yes it must. Does your hair curl? Fairy: Fairies' hair doesn't ever curl. Fern : And are your eyes going to be blue? Fairy: Fairies' eyes don't ever go blue. Fern: They sav my hair Is starting to curl already, and they Bay my eyes are beginning to grow blue. Fairy: Oh give them to me! Olve me your hair, and eyes! And I'll give you fairy magic to make up for them. Now here was a pretty kettle of fish. Just when everything was going right with Fern, along should come this offer io her to make her begin to wonder! What did she care for blue eyes or golden curls? Fairy magic was much more important. But there were her father and her mother, Mr and Mrs Octavius Smith, who had their hopes about her and would be so happy if only their little lamb could develop Into a beautiful blomle. Being a beautiful blonde meant nothing to Fern; but then every nicely brought-up child likes to give pleasure to Its parents. So after a little spell of silence, during which the fairy baby got almost a whole foot Into Its mouth, the conversation went on again. Fern: Not for always. I couldn't give you my hair and eyes for always. Fairy: Well for a little while then. Till you're eight, cay. Fern : Yes, you could have them till then. And can I have fairy magic till then? Fairy: Yes, you can. and when we're both come to the end of being seven we'll 'our proper way. Fern : So we will then. That's what we'll do! And then, suddenly, " Precious one! Mother's treasure!" and Mrs Octavius Smith had come and found her daughter and whisked her out of fairyland and on to the rug again. (To be continued.)

LETTERS FROM LITTLE FOLK

Molto.— We write for the benefit of others, not for ourselves FIRST LETTERS. Dear Dot, —I would like to Join your band. I urn nine years old, and In Standard 11. I have a cat called Fluffy. We travel to school In a bus. BLOSSOM GIRL, (Queenstown). [Welcome to you, Blossom Girl, but I have had to change your name a little. — DOT.] * * . * Dear Dot, —I would like to become a | member of your band, If I may. I enjoy i reading the letters and look forward to your ! page every Monday. Have you noticed the touch of frost In the air every morning, Dot? Soon Jack Frost will be painting his pictures on the window every morning. Everything looks beautiful and. fresh after the rain we have had lately. I went to Chrlstchurch for my school holidays and had ■ a delightful time. Chrlstchurch is a very

pretty place, and next time I write 1 shall tell you a little about It. As this is my first letter, I shall stop now, with much love to the Little Folk and yourself. LITTLE OPOSSUM (Dunedin).

[You, too, are welcome, Little Opossum, but, as you chose a famous Old Writer's name, I have had to alter yours. Yes, tell me about Christchurch. —DOT.] BEST LETTERS. Dear Dot, —If our accomplished young friend, Raffles, who has been tearing me to pieces lately, would decide to write regularly to the page instead of contributing spasmodic outbursts such as last Monday's, I am sure we should all be pleased. As far as I can see, the practice now adopted by certain Little Folk when they have nothing else to write about Is " Let's attack Charles Dickens," with the result that I can hardly say anything unusual without being heckled by somtibody. Well, if we all wrote " nice simple letters" such as Sir Walter Scott was asking for some months ago (and I take it that that is also what Raffles wants), what sort of a page would we have? Whenever anybody tries to be original or unusual there Is an uproar, but I suppose that in this respect I am only being repaid for some of the things I myself have said against very " original " musicians. Then there arc those who complain about my preference for musical matters—well, we all have our hobbles and that happens to be mine. Other writers have- their stamp collections and such like, and do not hesitate to write concerning them. Raffles,- apparently, has a mania for debates,, and I.tljank him.for his generous invitation, and If fie will 'choose the subject I shall be delighted to enter Into wordy warfare with him. Perhaps he would like to debate about people like himself who persist in writing on two subjects in one letter. / CHARLES DICKENS (Dunedin). [You have been wonderfully patient and long-sutTerlng, Charles Dickens, and are entitled to this letter of self-defence. Personally, I think your letters set a fine example in the page, and I wish there were' other reigular weekly writers with ideas as original,—DOT.] Sf, .y. ff, Dear Dot,—Along the Town Belt and by Cosy Dell and paßt the Stuart street cable car, wiiich we were told Is the only privately-owned tram line in the city, we went. Next we passed at the back of the Otago Boys' High School, Rattray street car, and looked down on the Catholic Cathedral and the Girls' High School, Forbury Park, and White Island in the distance. Speight's breweries and Belleknowes we saw, and then the High Street School, the Mornlngton cable car, and down to Ravensbourne and across to Macandrew Bay v We went on to the City Gasworks, Drill Hall, Caledonian Grounds, past the Southern Cemetery and on to the " Scotchman's Grandstand " at Carlsbrook, where the cricket match, Otago versus M.C.C., was in progress. Past Talboys Home, Caversham School, Prince Edward Convalescent Home for Children, and so to St. Clair we drove. Past Brinsley's, the maker of Champion ranges, the children's playground, on to the Esplanade and past the Band Rotunda. Forbury Racecourse and the St. Kilda Battery Station, Onslow House, motor camp, Tahuna Park, and Tainul on the, left we saw, then the Hunt Club kennels, Anderson's Bay Cemetery, Crematorium, Tomahawk Beach and Lagoon. Then we had the last view from the hills with Saddle'Hill in the distance. We passed the home of tho Little Sisters of the Poor, the Children'3 Home, Queen's Drive, and tho Catholic Convent, passed the Oval, and so drove through the city and homo again to camp. ELEPHANTYNE (Taleri).

[lt was a good drive, Elephantyne, and a long one too—one that extended from one letter right over to the next. —DOT.] *' # * .Dear Dot, —This week I am going to tell you about a Bible Class picnic vhlch we had at Taieri Mouth. We left at 8 olclock to catch the train at Milburn and travelled to Tltrt, where the members of the Bible Class climbed.on to the launch. As we were making our way down,.;one, of. the members toolc 'up his" bagpipes and played us some tunes. On' reaching the mouth about 11 o'clock we had our lunch. After washing the dishes we all went on to the sand and played rounders, because It was too cold to go In bathing. After playing rounder.'tlll 2 o'clock, some of us went and had a see-saw. All the boys who were there scrambled on one end and the girls on the other. There were four big boys to four girls, and, the boys being heavier, weighted the girls up and kept us there till we were just about falling off with laughter . It being about 3.30, we all made to where the water was boiling to haye tea, because the launch was to leave at 4 o'clock. When the launch started the member of the Bible Class played his bagpipes again. After leaving the train at Milburn ,we walked three miles and arrived at our aunt's at 7 o'cloc'i, ready for a jolly good tea. I will close now, with love to all the Little Folk and your own dear self. CD. M. (Milburn). [You had good fun at the picnic I see, C. D. M. See-saws, bagpipes, rounders, and food were all of the best, and you made the most of them. —DOT.] ¥ ¥ ¥•

Dear Dot, —On almost any bright sunny day In the summer time one can hear the music of New Zealand's wonderful little insect musician, the cicada. It is a strange crickltty music, unlike any other sound, and it is so elusive that at first it is impossible to tell from what direction it comes. One day after listening to the cicada's music for a short time I was able to distinguish the direction from which it came, and when I crept forward I found a shiny green cicada perched on the edge of a currant I<;af. pouring out its music as If it wished to drown all other noises. The cicada Is of greenish or sometimes redish colour and Is about ono Inch long. It has four filmy wings that are marked with brown and black veins and two largo eyes that bulge from its head. 33etween the two large eyes there are three tSny red ones. I have often wondered what insect made the holes In the dry ground underneath one qf the veronica shrubs In our garden, and although I have dug this ground, I have found nothing but endless tunnels. Another day I found a number of strange, brown grub cases of the cicada's under the same bush. I did not know at the time that they were the cicada's grub cases, but later I read in a book that for four years the cicada grubs work at their tunnels, which were a puzzle to me. The cicada grub starts dtesinr' at the bottom of its tunnel, and since It has no way of disposing of the materia It has Aug, ft mixes It Into mud with sap. which It gets from some root near at hand, and presses It into the cracks in the dry earth. On a bright sunny day the cicada grub comes above the surface, and from the grub case there emerges the beautiful cicida musician.

A YOUNG NEW ZEALANDER (Dunedln). [You have written this very well, A Young New Zealander. To hear a cicada is so pleasant an experience that to learn all about one and Its habits is a -treat. —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —I heard a gramophono record the other day and the chorus was this: — " I will build a hut for Dad Out at the back of the lot, All he needs is a table, a stove, And an old fashioned cot. When I'm rid of my old Dad, Home will be brighter for me. With Just you and little Ned,

My own dear family." Perhaps you have heard the song. I wonder If the person who wrote the song heard the following Btory, which Is true and happened in the Old Country. As in the story the old man gave his son all his wealth. But unlike the song, It was his daughter-in-law who insisted on the old man's being put In a hut, and as he was hard on crockery, the woman Insisted on the son's getting a wooden bowl and spoon for the old man to eat his meals with. One day llttlo Ned, the three year-old grandchild, was trying to make n wooden spoon and bowl. When his mother came in she asked him what he was making, and the boy replied, " I am making a bowl and spoon for yon and daddy, and when I grow up, grandad and I will live in the house and daddy and you will live in the hut." The mother was quite shocked. She sat down and cried, then she went to the hut and took the old mnn to the house agnin, that used to be his home, and, begging his pardon, said she had not meant any harm. The good old man forgave her, and they nil lived happy on their fajm after that. Don't you think it is a true saying: "Out of the mouths of babes you shall hear the truth"? Kind regards to tho Little Folk nnd yourself. DAUGHTER ( Tussock Creek). [Yes, I think that Is a true saying, Daughter. But surely nobody would ever really bo so unkind to an old person as tho woman you tell about, nnd the man in the song! Perhaps It is not easy to be truly kind.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —As soon, as we arrived in Dunedln we took our bicycles and left them at the station, then set off to And the Rainbow Hotel, arriving there in time for dinner, nfter which we set ofr to do a tour of the shops. Wo looked at everything and everybody, and I am afraid we could easily be picked as country children I used .to look at different girls and wonder if they were Dot Little Folk's, and that was one thing that disappointed mo. for I had hoped to see several, and did not see a single one. That night we went to a picture named " Ginger," and we did enjoy It. That is the kind of picture I like, do you? We were In bed by 10.80, and I must say no noises kept us awake

[This is turning the page into a correspondence school, Mata Hart. But as I like to encourage international correspondence, I do not mind Us being so.—DOT.]

[You did have a good time, Brown Butterfly ! And how jolly for you to bo able to watch tho young skylarks grow up. You seem to have been good fishermen. —DOT.] ."• * *

Dear Dot, —I am sure most of the Little Folk like picnics. I spent an enjoyable

that night. I was up, washed, dressed, and out before 6, and there was only one man to be seen on the street. In the morning wo went to the Museum, and I had never before seen such beautiful Maori things and old dresses of different countries. We stayed their nearly all the morning, and in the afternoon wont to St. Clair to see the seal. A man told us ho was in a bad mood and wo could not go near at all. We saw everything and watched the surfers. A young man set tho aeroplano swings going for us to see, and it was the first time either of us had seen them buzzing around. We got back In timo to get our case and catch the 3.4f> train home. We' had a lovely trip, and by tho time we reached our station we were quite excited to get home. We still had two miles to go and a head wind ; my hat wanted to blow off, and the case on the carrier had the wobbles. Also I had a sponge cako nil done with rasberries which I thought mum would like: this I had In my hand, and gradually the paper broke through. Nevertheless, wo arrived home after a lot of laughing, and you should have seen the rest of the family clustering round to hear the news. We did have a time, but although Dunedin Is lovely, we were real glad to be home again. Love to all. NYMPH ECHO (Otago).

[lt is refreshing to read so enthusiastic an account of a bicycle ride, Nymph Echo, and I hope that your next visit to Dunedin will be as pleasant as this last ono was. The return home, too. is well described. Write again soon. —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —I have been so busy that I could not find time to write. We have had lovely weather, and It Is beautiful at the river. Looking at It now, ono wonders how It ever could cause anxiety and worry. Daughter's kitten, Del, amused us the other morning. She was lying at the dairy door, which is very high off the ground. Daughter was washing the separator, and two other kittens which had strayed here kept Jumping up, trying to got in and at the cream Jar. Every time one jumped on tho step, out would flash one of Del's paws and down would go the kitten. It was great watching them, but don't you think, Dot, Del was clever to keep the little thieves out? Daughter feeds thorn well, but starved things never know when they have had enough. I hope to see you and make your acquaintance at the jubilee. Heaps of love to your own dear self and the Little Folk. PRINCESS BEBE (Tussock Creek).

[Del was indeed clever, Princess Bebe. But I wonder what was going on inside his pussy head while he was being so. Please tell mo more about the river.—DOT.] * »sje # Dear Dot, —I was pleased to see my first letter In print. I am now going to tell you about a picnic we had out at the hills about ten miles from Waikoualtl. We left early in the morning, and as the road was fairly rough, we arrived at our destination about lunch time. After we had our luncheon wo walked around to a bridge which Is used for taking the sheep from ono side of the river to the other. As we stood on the bridge, looking Into tho water, we could not see the bottom, but on one side there was a huge rock, and the water was about ten feet deep on It. As the sky was overcast, we decided to go home, as they were mostly clay roads out at the back of beyond. Love to all. BRONZE EAGLET (Waikoualtl). [lt would not be a kind river for a non-swimmer to fall into, Bronze Eaglet. Can you swim? Yes. wet clay is not very pleasant.—DOT.] * * * Dear Dot, —Summer seems to be gradually slipping into winter, and we shall soon be having weeks of cold frosts and rain. How quickly the daylight fades, leaving the world wrapped in a blanket of darkness. The name of this poem is " Death —And Memories." "An old man sat In a room by himself, Old In looks but not In years;' He held in his hand a photograph Whifth brought to his eyes many tears. " His hair was grey at the temples, And his face was pale and sad, And who would have thought that yesterday He was happy and glad ? "He remembered the day that he brought homo His newly-wedded wife; And how he loved her, that pret,ty girl. Whom he'd found to cherish for life. "It was Just six years since that happy day, And, Oh, what a life he had led; But the one that helped him on his way Now lay cold and dead. " He'd been to her funeral that very morn. Taking his last farewell; And the grief and anguish he had to bear. None but he could fell. " And now his life was void and blank. And he wished that he, too, had died So that a grave could be dug on the hill And he laid down by her side." Cheerio to all. TRIXIE OF TAIERI (Taleri).

[Poor old man, Trlxle of Taieri. I am afraid we are all Inclined-to feel like that when someone wo love dies. Write soon.—DOT.] * * * ,

Dear Dot, —One Sunday afternoon at 4 p.m. all the Boy Scouts. Girl Guides, Cubs, and Brownies of Dunedin paraded at St. Paul's Cathedral, where a special service was held to celebrate the birthday of Lord and Lady Baden Powell, which had been on the Saturday. The Dean preached a very interesting service, which was appreciated by everyone. As this Is all the news I will close, with kindest regards to all. ONE MORE (Dunedin). [Are you sure that is all the news, One More? I think you could have told me much more about that afternoon—where you met, what you wore, what the Cathedral felt like, what sort of thoughts you went home with, and all the rest of It. Could you not have? —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —It is a long time since I wrote to you last. We are practising for our school sports, and were running the other day. I am In some of the events. We have a new teacher this year, and she Is very good to us. We have a new fence along the front of the school grounds. It Is to be painted white, and with the school garden at the back of the fence, it will look very nice. I must close now. BLACK WATCH'S SON (Otokia).

[Are you quite better again then. Black Watch's Son? I hope you do well in the sports, and am sure the white fence and garden look as pleasing as you say they do. —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —A few weeks ago I wrote of my impressions of Chrlstchurch, so I wondered if this week a few similar remarks about my home town should be of interest. A line of friendly hills stand shoulder to shoulder and almost surround the town of Oamaru. They seem to have nestled up together with the Intention of sheltering the little community In their midst, and with the desire to take a friendly interest in its affairs. But things have not gone quite as those hills expected, for the adventurous little town haß grown somewhat and has sent its houses scrambling all over the hills to see what Is on the other side. The level part of the town at the foot of the hills Btretches out until it meets the sea. It Is In this part that there is the business area with its shops and public buildings. A host of trees have arranged themselves In two straight rows up the centre of the main street; In summer they make dark patches of shade on the road, but In winter point to the sky with their thin, black fingers. Throe plots of grass, one near the South African War memorial and the other two by the Great War memorial, serve the double purpose of providing an attractive safety zone for pedestrians and a place and playground for the canine members of the community. Against the green of the grass and the white of the monument the beds of brightly coloured flowers make a picture of beauty and cheer. The Public Gardens are a place of trees, flowers, broad winding paths, and a laughing stream that came up and over Its banks during the rains to see how everything else was faring. I am glad that my letter gave pleasure to Timaruvtnn, especially as her last letter was of particular Interest to me. SQUIRREL (Oamaru).

[This is good, Squirrel. Your style is Improving the more you write. This is Indeed Oamaru. but Oamaru seen with new eyes. I am sure it will like to know you see it like this.—DOT.I

Dear Dot, —Once again I set about writing to you. Since I last wrote I have written to a girl in Canada, and as she had too many correspondents in New Zealand, she put a number of names in a paper over there, and my name was one of them I received 25 letters altogether, and as I cannot answer them all, I am sending some names and addro33es into your Letter Box. I only hope that some Little Folk shall answer, as they are all wanting a New Zealand correspondent. Best wishes. MATA HARI (Taieri).

Dear Dot, —I hope you liavo not forgotten me. so I thought I would write and tell you how I spent my Christmas holidays. Well, we boarded the taxi and set off to enjoy ourselves at the beach at Talerl Mouth. When we arrived we wont, for a ramble up the magnificent bush. When wo were a good way in wo noticed the picturesque ferns with their leaves spread out as if they were huge umbrellas. Next we noticed the small native birds flying from troe to tree. Wo soon came to tho end of the bush and travelled further up tho road, where wo found a skylark's nest. There were four egg 3 In the nest, so we decided to watch the nest and see what happened. But to our surprise we found that the birds soon grew up and flew away. In the mornings we sometimes went round on the mllkcart, which we enjoyed thoroughly. Next we would go down ,to tho wharf and fish, and we were fortunate enough to catch about 75, which consisted of mullet, butterfl.su, and one red cod which Scotch Heath caught. After dinner we would go for a swim In tho lagoon, where we tried our patience on trying to catch small minnows. Well, Dot, I will close now, with heaps of love. BROWN BUTTERFLY (Milton).

day at the Farmers' Union picnic a few weeks ago. It was held at a river a small distance away. We arrived there round about 11 o'clock, and most of the children donned their bathing costumes. Unfortunately, I was not one of them, as I had had the misfortune to catch a cold, and so had to be content to watch the other children swimming. After a real picnic dinner the races began, and it was fun watching the little ones run their hardest in the hope of obtaining a prize. Next came the older people's races, jumps, and skipping. After we had tea wo all went home, tired, but well satisfied with our day's outing. I will close now, with love to all tho Little Folk and your own clear self.

DRYAD OF THE FOREST (Walkouaiti). [A picnic on such a fine day as the one you describe could not fail to be a success, Dryad of the Forest. Dryads are said to bo the spirits of trees.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —It is a long time since I wrote to you last. It has been raining hero for a long time, and I am wondering when it is going to stop. We have had over four inches of rain, and it is still raining. Our ducks do enjoy swimming in the lagoons. We have a lagoon that has frogß in it, Everything looks so green after the rain. The river looks such a funny colour when it is In flood. I must close now, with love to' you and all the Little Folk. BONZO'S BROTHER (Oamaru).

[Yours Is a rainy day letter, 1b It not, Bonzo's Brother? Look In to-day's Letter Box and see If anything there will suit you.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —I enjoy reading the Little Folk's page, for the letters are so interesting. We have had over four inches of rain. We havo two pigs with little ones. One had thirteen and the other had nine. In the Christmas holidays I was wandering up a creek, and in a Maori head I saw a wild duck sitting on eight eggs. I left them, and in another week there were eight baby ducks. What fun we have gathering mushrooms! Do you like them. Dot? I do. They are very plentiful this year. Kind regards to all. RIVER BANK LASS (Oamaru).

[Do you think you could writ© on only one subject at a time, River Bank Lass? For example, send mo threo whole letters, one about tho pigs, one about the ducks, and one about mushrooms. Will you?— DOT.]

:;: :£ ?fi Dear Dot, —I suppose you have forgotten me by this time. I have left school now, and I do not think I should Hke to go back. I am going to learn music next term, and I hope to enjoy It. I am going to be taught at the Convent In town. Now that I have left school I am a general farm hand. 1 milk the cows, look after the fowls, and keep the garden tidy. I enjoy looking after the fowls, as there is not very much to do. We have 200 pullets and 120 hens. At feed time In the morning when wo take thoir breakfast In thoy fly on to mum s shoulders. The pullets are not quite so tame ns the hens yet, but will be when they are shut inside when they begin to lay. I will close now, with best of luck to all the Little Folk and your own dear self. SNOWY (Otokia). [lt must be an astonishing experience to have 120 hens flying up on one's shoulders, Snowy; and it must also be a pretty sight. I wish you well with your music.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —You told me to tell you some more about Ginger and Fluff. They must be tired after the cat fight last night. YOUNG FISHERMAN (Kaka Point). [Must they, Young Fisherman? It must had been a strenuous battle ! —DOT.] * H- * Dear Dot, —The npm de plume " Daphne Flower" will be growing less familiar to you every day. Last week I developed influenza, but I have quite recovered now. I spent my Christmas holidays in Oamaru and Dunedin, and altogether I was away about two weeks. You can imagine how much I slept on the night of Christmas Day, for I was to leave on Boxing Day. On that particular day I wa3 up and well awake at 5 o'clock. It seemed only a few minutes after breakfast that the bus was up to whirl me away from the familiar little township to unknown hills and scenery. At 11.15 I was standing on the Dunedin railway platform waiting for the train to Oamaru. We had our lunch on the train, as there waß no time to have it in Dunedin. Wo could scarcely suppress our giggles when the guard looked with a half-longing, halfamused expression on his face at the lemonade that we had in a bottle beside us. From the train we could see quite a lot of the bluo Bea. At 3.15 we arrived at our destination, and were soon motoring along to the home where we were to stay. I had a lovely time in Oamaru, especially on New Year's Eve when we lit some fireworks. On January 2 wo had an afternoon in the Gardens. I instantly fell in love with some lovely fluffy 'ducklings that swam round the duckpond as easily as their parents. The holiday in Oamaru was soon over, and we found ourselves on the way to Dunedin, not for a holiday, but for rush and bustle round the shops—those shop windows that fascinate so many with their Christmas decorations and gifts displayed lavishly to tempt the passer-by. When one comes homo and begins one's daily duties once more one cannot enjoy the actual outings again ; but, still one has sweet memories of days gone by. Loving thoughts to all. ' DAPHNE FLOWER (Roxburgh). [These holiday letters are all Indications of the happiness the holidays brought, Daphne Flower, yours being no exception. I can imagine the feeling of the guard that day.—DOT.) Dear Do't,—l am sending you a little poem about hills this week. It Is called " Those Rocky Steeps." Hills— Those rocky steeps; those towering heights; Those gently rolling, grassy slopes: Those purple, shaddow-haunted depths Of Valleys ... in the hills. Sun— , , That golden light; that radiant light Which touches rugged bits of hills With tender, golden, warm caress, And dancing rays of sun. Night— The quiet time when sun has set: The twilight—that subduing light,— And then comes, softly, shades of night— And flickering shadows. Moon— So palo it shines in silver light: It gleams on distant hills, sharp-etched Against a twinkling sky—its magic Shows anew a splendid sight: Majestic hills —and pale moonlight! Best wishes. PERSIAN PUSSY (Roxburgh). [Thank you, Persian Pussy. I presume that it is a poem of which you arc the author. —DOT.] Dear Dot, —One Wednesday morning we packed up and set off for Waiho Goige, arriving there at 12 o'clock. After having lunch and pitching our tents we set off for a glimpse of the Fox Glacier. What a terrible road It Is between Waiho Gorge and Fox Glacier! It is a long, winding, narrow, hilly road. Some of tho corners were too narrow for the bus, so the driver had to back tho bus several times before he turned the corner. After wo had travelled on this terrible road to see tho Fox Glacier it began to rain and spoil our view ot it. However, we got a glimpse of It from a distance of about four miles. We then returned to our tents In time for tea. After tea we went for a walk through the bush. One wonderful thing we saw was the glowworms. We picked ono up and it proved to be a tiny worm. On Thursday we set off to go on tho Franz Josef Glacier. After putting on men's socks and boots with big nails In them and collecting walking-sticks, we walked three miles to the glacier, and then, at last, wo were on the Franz Josef Glacier. What a thrill is was to think where we were! Tho leading guide took us over some very narrow ridges. A slip with one foot and we would have been down In a crevice. It is Just frozen ice. What a wonderful thing it Is, Dot! Wo walked only about half a mile on it, and then turned back for our tents again, because it came on to rain. We went to bed a tired but happy crowd. On Friday morning we packed up again and travelled five miles to have a ride in a motor launch on Lake Mapourlka. It is 12 miles round the lake, which is 237 feet deep. The lake is surrounded by numbers of different native trees. I must stop now, hoping to finish this brief description of my trip in my next letter. PERIWINKLE PETER (Otago). [I look forward to your next letter. Periwinkle Peter, for I have not yet visited those glaciers ant very much like reading about them. —DOT.] Dear Dot, —I went over to grandpa's farm at Duntroon for my holidays and enjoyed it very much, especially the trip over, as we went through Danay's Pass. We had an early lunch at home and left about 12 o'clock, reaching our destination a little after 3 o'clock. The pass was In good condition and everything looked beautiful and green, especially the young flax and small clumps of bush along the stream and on the steep hills. They had Just finished shearing and had started harvesting when we arrived there, so we were there all the harvesting time, which was a good interesting time, as I helped with the stocking, which is a hot Job on a summer's day. Before the stooking can bo dono, tiie crop has to he cut and tied, this being done by a machine called a binder, which Is pulled by three horses. After It has stood In the Btooks for about a fortnight or so It has to be carted In and stacked. I spent three weeks over there, and came homo through Palmerston. I will close now, with best wishes. LITTLE NIPPON (Naseby). [No wonder you enjoyed your trip, Littlo Nippon. And thank you for describing the harvest field so well.—DOT.] Dear Dot,—On Saturday, February 22, I celebrated my fourteenth birthday by having a little party. When I woke up on Saturday morning everyone greeted me with " Many happy returns of the day," and I was told I could invito eight girls to tea, so I became very much excited. When everyone had arrived we went, out on to the lawn and had jolly l'un playing different games such as posty, marketing, blindfold driving, and leapfrog, etc., which all caused fun. Wo played outside games until tea-time, then we went indoors. What a lovely tea, Dot! 1 wish you had been there to see tho table. Wo first of all had jellies, snow, pineapple, and thick cream. We then had bread and butter, tomatoes and bananas. There were also

cakes, chocolate biscuits, and many other eatables. Then carao my birthday cake. It was a dark fruitcake with white icing decorated with crystalised cherries, and it tasted delicious and rich. After having a good tea wo all went into the front room, brought the gramophone and records with us, and had a great time dancing and having items until we became so hot that we had to go out into the fresh air to cool ourselves down. Wo then had competitions and forfeits, and by this time it was 9 p.m., so the girls had some light refreshments and left for home. Pink Petalled Daisy stayed with me till the next day, as her home is too far away. I think I was lucky, as I received some lovely gifts, which were all useful. Love to all. SWEET SAN TOY (Naseby). [Useful gifts are best of all, Sweet San Toy, especially on such a jolly birthday as yours. What a good way of heralding your new year ! —DOT.] Dear Dot,—Just lately I have read a most thrilling book called, " Wild Drumalbain, or the Road to Meggernle and Clen Coe, by Alaspair Alpin M'Grcgor. One would really think one was treading or running with the moor breezes over the wild glens, down the tawny hillsides, and past the white waterfalls across the dark deep lochs, where Bonnie Prince Charlie hid from his foe, where the Battle of Dal-Righ, in which Bruce lost to tho MacDougals, was fought, and where many other stirring things happened. In the olden days, before the Highlanders were properly civilised, they were very cruel. When tho MacDonalds and a MacLeod chief were quarrelling over a piece of land, really an island, they decided that the one to reach the island first would be owner. When the MacLeod chief saw that the MacDonald chief was winning he slashed off his arm and flung it to the Island. Much love. CATRIONA (Waltatl). [How enthusiastic the book has made you, Catrlona! You make me want to read It too. Please tell me more of its exciting Incidents.—DOT.] * * * Dear Dot, —I wonder If many Little Folk have had the experience of a break-down in a car on a lonely country road when the clock is nearlng midnight. Well, this was what becamo of us after a very enjoyable evening at the pictures. It was nearly 11.30 o'clock when we left Balclutha one Saturday night. Our little party was so happjv singing and laughing, and our car was running along to perfection, when to our disappointment It started to rattle and began to go very slow. This meant an interruption to our gaiety. Out everybody clambered and waited anxiously for the verdict, which was greeted with a very displeasing " Oh! " when my uncle pronounced that we had run out of petrol. At first we did not know what was best to do. but there was only ono thing for it. We had to walk home. Luckily we were not far from home, so that was one consolation; but what a long way it did seem stumbling blindly along the corrugated, stony road in the dark! However, we made tho most of our trek, and continued on our way, singing and trying to keep a happy heart although we were tired and weary. Arriving home, we were wolcomed with a nice warm fire and boiling kettle, as my uncle, who had taken a short cut across the paddocks, had arrived home, first. At seeing the kettle boiling we suddenly realised how hungry we were, so we started, and very soon had an appetising supper ready. After everything was cleared up we all felt very much Inclined to turn our direction towards bed, so everybody just tumbled sleepily into a welcome resting place. Tired and happy, we were at last at the end of an exciting evening, which started with never a thought as to how our return journey might end. Love to the Little Folk and your own dear self. , ANZAC'S PAL (Dunedin). [You made the best of an unfortunate happening anyway, Anzac's Pal, and were lucky In having a fine night for your adventure. I am glad you realised that the account of a break-down would make a Best Letter. —DOT.] Dear Dot, —One Sunday some frlend3 and I cycled to Oamaru, a distance of nine miles, to see the boat, H.M.S. Wellington, which was in port at that time. When we arrived there we put our bicycles away and walked over the overhead bridge to the wharf. After arriving at the gangway we boarded the boat. First of all we looked along the lower deck and viewed everything before climbing a ladder on to another deck higher up, where wo looked at the sailors' quarters. When we came down 1 looked at a sailor showing some peoplo a gun. We then went down below and looked at all the engines and pumps. After completing our tour of inspection we collected our bicycles and went round the gardens for a while before we started on our homeward Journey. Love to all. BONFIRE'S JOCKEY (Maheno). [You seem to have looked at everything, Bonfire's Jockey. What would you rather do—ride a bicycle or work on a warship? —DOT.] OLD WRITERS* ASSOCIATION. At a meeting of the committee of the Old Writers' Association on December 18, 1933, It was decided to hold a reunion during Winter Show Week in June, 1936, to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of Dot's Little Folk page. It was further decided that ihere should be a nominal fee of one shilling for membership, and that anyone, whether an Old Writer or not. desirous of mauinr a donation could do so, all subscriptions and donations, accompanied by name, address, and nom de plume, to be acknowledged In the Little Folk's page fortnightly after being received by the secretary at her addret* 24 Jackson street. St. Kllda Dunedin * * * Members wishing to avail themselves of the trip arranged by the association for Sunday, March . 15 (weather permitting), must notify the secretary before Monday, March 9, otherwise reservations cannot be made. All patrons must be on the wharf at 9.30 a.m. Hot water provided. Fare, 2s. The next meeting of tho Old Writers' Association will be-held in the Library on Tuesday, March 10, at 8 p.m. All members are cordially Invited. •V- V * Subscriptions have been received from Puss in Boots, Geneva, and Jolly Jim's Bride, tf * * The next social of the Old Writers' Association will be held in tho Radiant Hall (corner St. Andrew and King streets) on Monday, March 16, at 8 p.m. (Subject to approval of committee to-morrow evening.) OLD WRITERS' NOTES. Indian Chief, president of the Old Wtiters Association (Mr Jas. T. Ramsay. 24 Neidpath road, Mornington. Dunedin) ; and Morning Star honorary secretary (Mrs J nines, 24 Jackson street, St. Kilda Dunedin), are endeavouring to complete a register of past and present Old Writers in connection with the Jubilee in 1936. Either would be pleased to hear from any willing to supply names, addresses, and noma de plume, and, where possible, year of first writing to Dot. Acknowledgments will br made periodically in tills column. * * * Would Zaou Plttß kindly forward name and address to secretary as soon as possible. OUR NEW MEMBERS. Dot extends a special welcome to the following Little Folk who have written to the page for the first time this week: — Little Opossum, Blossom Girl. NOTES. Bronze Eaglet.—Write to Anna Raju, Santhome, Madras; and Kathleen Lynch, Kewell North. via Murtoa, Victoria, Australia. „„„ DOT. « * * Scotch Thistle (Waitati).—What is your private name, dear? DOT. * * * King Foil.—Your letter was too personal to bear printing, I am afraid. I am sure you will understand. DOT. LITTLE FOLK'S LETTER BOX. As the Little Folk Inserting the following requests do not know the addresses of the companions with whom they wish to correspond, it Is necessary that those companions should send the first letter. —DOT. * * * C. D. M. (Daphne M'Nelll, Circle Hill, Mllburn) wishes to correspond with any girl Little Folk about 13 years of age—oversea preferred. * * * Bonfire's Jockey (Jock Rapson, Maheno) would like some Little Folk to correspond with him. $ * * Rowena M. M'Lean, Gull Lake, Saskatchewan, Canada, would like to correspond with boys and girls about 13 to 17 years old. Her hobbles are Bkl-ing, skating, and tennis, She will promise to answer all letters. Eleanor V. Brown, Neidpath, Saskatchewan, Canada, would like a correspondent interested in stamp collecting, postmarks, and movie stars. Frieda Mallnowskl, Makwa, Saskatchewan, Canada, would like a correspondent interested in music and sports and aged 16 vears. Lillian Thorstelnson, Wynyard, Saskatchewan, Canada, would like a correspondent aged 12 years. Louise Magrusson, Leslie, Saskatchewan, Canada, would like a correspondent interested in embroidery and autographs and aged 16 years. Olive Robinson, Coalspur, Alta, Canada, would like a correspondent interested in music and aged 14 years. E. Hunter, Kintstino, Saskatchewan, Canada, would like a correspondent Interested in music. Sarah Harth, Quinton, Saskatchewan, Canada, would like a correspondent age 12 years and interested in sport. Clara Lutz, Bruce, Alberta, Canada, would liko a correspondent aged 15 years and interested in knitting. Lilly Meyer, Openshaw, Saskatchewan, Canada, would like a correspondent aged 14 years.

Julia Zerr, Allan, Saskatchewan, Canada, would like a correspondent interested in music, dancing, and swimming. Rosic Pohl, Lashburn, Saskatchewan, Canada, would like a correspondent Interested in sewing and aged 15 years. Eldora Arncgard, Clair, Saskatchewan, Canada, would like a correspondent aged la years and interested in music. Bessie Spenst, Carrot River, Saskatchewan, Canada, would like a correspondent interested in music and aged 15 years.