Dots Little Folk

Otago Daily Times, Issue 23331, 25 October 1937, Page 13

Dots Little Folk

THE WEEK’S POEM Two grown-ups who have been interested in your discussions on fear have sent In the following poems for yon. children. The first poem says to you: •' Fear nothing. Go out and play. Go out and march and have the tun of finding rainbows. Those who huddle down at the side of the track, frightened of the unknown or what people say will never know the joy of discovery.” The second is a child’s idea of the darkend such a charming idea. To go with It 1 am reprinting an extract from our last year's story, so that you can refresh your memory with what Fern thought of the dark. DOT * ■ >:■ THE MARCH OF THE TITTLE CHILDREN [Copyright] Oh, haste ye. little children, Let’s out upon the track. Lest any ghoul should catch us And we be driven back. Let’s out upon the pathway, Nothing’s there to fear, For we can see the end of it, All the way from here. Go away you solemn greyhead, You withered woman, you, Why come you to fright us with tales we know untrue? Uncrook your warning finger, The way to us is clear, For we can see the end of it All the way from here. Our path Is opalescent, Odorous, and sweet, And there a golden rainbow Leaves ladders for our feet To seek its upper glory, To point the goal is near, And we can see the end of it (Ah. the golden end of it) Ail the way from here. —Anonymous, « $ # THE DARK The dark Is soft and cosy, The dark Is warm and deep, The dark will sooth my pillow, And love me while I sleep. God made the dark, so daylight Could close its tired eyes, And rest awhile in slumber Beneath the starlit skies. —Anonymous. THE LOVELY DARK Thought Fern:— “ The dark is lovely. They do not know how lovely It is, my father and my mother, who lay me down and tell each other how soundly I sleep through the night! They think I do not wake up at all, and know nothing of the darkness. But I do know, because I often wake up. And the dark is lovely." In the dark there was a silver wood With long avenues of silver trees. The moonlight floated in patches on the ground and showed the white stones that lay so prettily there—flat stones and round stones, and little crooked stones that would have been pleasant to bite upon: and away in the distance you could see something gleaming and glimmering—the slow, gentle river with its silver fish. Rabbits lived in the woods—pert, grey rabbits with nibbling noses—and they came hopping along, cocking their ears and twitching their whiskers, and making their tails go bob. bob, bob, as they turned away. There were deer, too—silver stags with horns like trees upon their heads, hinds with mild eyes and daintily stepping feet, and little fawns with mottled coats. They ran through the shining avenues of trees, with the moonlight running and shining on their flanks, and sometimes went so quickly that you could not see one from another —everything was moving brightness, most beautiful to look upon. Often one of the fawns would step Tight out of the wood on to the nursery floor and come to Fern, and when he reached her cot he would stoop down, and she would reach out her arms and cling to him. and he would swing her over until she was on his back. Then oft they would go. through the silver avenues, over the flat and rounded stones, and past the clearing where the rabbits played, and there were while mushrooms growing in fairy rings; and by and by they would come to the river, the water of which, in that shining scene, had always been most shining and silver of all.

Here Fern would see the herds drinking and the silver fish leaping In the waters beyond them, and the fawn would kneel until she had tumbled off Ills back and was In the water herself, sitting there on the edge of the river in her white nightgown with the bluebird worked on its bodice, and not getting a scrap wet. For that was the beauty of that river Though you might dabble your feet in it. kicking It up and down with your heels, and feeling It cool against your skin, and though you might slap, slap, slap It with your hands and make lovely splashes rise into the air and shine almost as brightly as the silver fish shone, it did not wet you or niake you cold. For It was a river of the dark—a magic river. No wonder Fern loved It when the fawn came and took her there! Then he would swing her up on his back again, she Would take a last look down that shimmering stream, the silver fish would leap together to bid her “ Goodbye a rare moment, that!—and they would go back aeain, swift, swift, swiftly through the silver .wood. Soft llttlo fawn neck! Soft little fawn ears! Soft little fawn nose that pushed her back into her cot and pushed the blankets round her neck and pushed a " Goodnight” kiss against her check! But Fern never saw him go away from her, that little mottled fawn with the velvet nose. She always fell fast asleep the moment he put her back to bed, and so forgot all about the sliver wood and the white stones ,and grey rabbits and the shining deer that lived In the lovely dark. TO ALL Dear Little Folk,—What has happened to your letters? Such a few you have sent me this week I Perhaps you are Dusy, or else these fine spring days have left you time for nothing but play. But 1 hope you will not quite forget the page, and the fact that ther.e have to be letters in It if It Is to be a page at all. X thought you might like to read the following article, so I have had It printed for you.—Your loving DOT. THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS HOW THEY EAT SOME FOOD AND LIVE A delightful article by Frank W Lane appears In John o’ London on the queer and wise ways of animals. We read Professor Huxley once described the barnacle as getting Its living by standing on its head and kicking Its food into its mouth with Its legs. He did not exaggerate, for the barnacle attaches itself to a rock by means of its head, and when hungry opens the valves of its shell and jerks food into its Interior by means of its whip-llke limbs This is but one of the many examples which Nature affords of the queer methods adopted by her children in the all-im-portant business of eating. When the electric catfish feels hungry it looks around for a fellow fish which has dined not wisely but too well, sidles up alongside and discharges an electric broadside. This has the effect of causing the victim to disgorge some of Its predigested food, which Is then promptly eaten by the raider. There Is a small, little-known Atrican animal, called the water mongoose, which favours a diet of bird's flesh. To capture its prey the mongoose, which, incidentally frequents marshy ground and is by no means confined to water, resorts to a very peculiar trick. It conceals Itself in the grass and vegetation at the edge of native plantations and clearings and then erects its hinder part. This has no resemblance to the animal, but is said to look sufficiently like something edible as to tempt an unsuspecting bird to peck at the crafty mongoose. The little creature then adroitly about turns and Its hungei Is soon satisfied. Living on the upland plains of the Australian bush are a species of ants which use certain of their members as storehouses against times of need The worker ants build cells for their brethren who are to act In this way. and, confined to these prisons, they are pumped full of a kind of honey. When fully loaded their abdomens are distended to the size of a large grape. During the times of drought and famine the worker ants repair to their living larders, chuck them under the chin, and consume the nonev which Is then degurgltated. Unfortunately for the ants the children of the natives of these regions have learnt

Inaugurated Juiij 16,1886, 0 by th.e OTAGO WITNESS DOT Invites letters of not more than 300 words In length from her young friends throughout the Dominion on any matters In which they are Interested. Now members must enclose their name and address. These will not be published, and are for registration purposes only. Little Folk should write on one side of the paper only, and In Ink, and should address their letters " Dot, care of Editor, Otago Dally Times." Every letter must state the age of the writer for Dot's private Information. The retiring age Is 21. after which little Folk become Old Writers. Dot's Little Folk’s Badge, with pin, for use as a brooch, Is obtainable on application to Dot. Price 2s (id. In stamps or postal note*.

the secret of the living larders, and dig diiligently for them when food Is short. When a honey ant is found the children bite off the lucious grape-like abdomen, and toddle off to school as happy as an English schoolboy sucking a bull's eye. A variation of this method of feeding Is found in the " cowboy ” ants, which keep herds of aphides. The aphides secrete a sweet, sticky substance called " honey dew," which is greatly prized by the ants. The ants, therefore, keep herds of aphides on a ranch composed of protective walls of earth, and appoint " cowboys ” In the shape of specially selected individuals to look after them. Lord Avebury proved that these ants take the eggs of the aphides to their nests and guard them throughout the winter. In the spring they are brought out and placed on their natural food. When an ant desires to feed, it approaches a " cow," and gently strokes its abdomen with its antennae. The aphis then lowers its head, raises its body, and is duly milked. A species of i nts found in Texas do not keep livestock, but they cultivate an allotment! They are said to commandeer a piece of land, between one or two square yards in size, clear it of all obstructions, level it, and make pathways from it to their nests. They then plant their ant rice in beds, and keep it carefully weeded. The seeds are gathered when ripe, the husks removed, and the food is stored for future use. Some of the ants are equipped with specially large jaws. These workers are given the task of preparing food for the rest of the colony fay crushing hard seeds with their nut-cr;.cker mouths. Should any of the seeds bnoome damp during storage, they are dneo in the sun. Presumably the ants have learnt tire dangers of rotting. A creature’s habitat has much to do with the manner of obtaining food. And the shifts to which some animals are reduced to snatch a living from inhospitable regions almost savour of the ludicrous. There is a toad, for example, which inhabits a particularly arid district in Australia which has to drink enough water in a few weeks to last it nearly half a year. During the short rainy season It pumps Itself so full of water that it is swollen to double its normal size. It then scratches itself a hole in the mud of a drying pool, and in a few days becomes one with the sun-baked soil with which it is surrounded, For months it must exist on its own water supply until the rainy season at last returns, and it can rejoice for a short time in a watery paradise. THE STORY OF BUGLER ALLEN AN EPISODE OF THE MAORI WAR From Dr Fulton’s “ Medical Practice.” (Copied for the Little Folk by Old EightySixer). 11 On May 15, 1846, a party of 50 soldiers of the 58th regiment, under Lieutenant Page, passed close to the home of William Swainson in the Hutt Valley, and Swainson warned the subaltern in command that the Maoris were “ up," and that every care should be taken in picketing his bivouac. Swainson also conversed with the company bugler, Allen, who was a great friend of his, and in similar terms warned him of the dangerous attitude of the Natives close at hand, “ The detachment moved on, and bivouacked at a place called Boulcott’s Farm, Lieutenant Page laughing at the old man’s warnings, saying that he was quite fitted to deal with any situation that might arise, but that he did not think they would be in any danger, and that his men were quite numerous enough and quite all right ’for all they would have to do.’ “ Next morning at early dawn, with startling distinction, a loud bugle note rang out, then a pause, then another note, a faint cry, then another call, lingering and quivering and fainter, almost as though a distant echo of the second call; then deep silence, replaced by a confused murmuring which carried terror to those who listened,

“Although Swalnson and the others nearby were in great distress of mind, a message arrived from the leading Natives that they need have no fear. Waitene, as Swalnson was called, was perfectly safe, the Natives as a rule being good and faithful to those who had been long amongst them. “When the cold grey dawn broke, the band of searchers needed no speaker to narrate the tragedy of the night. Seventy Natives under Chief Mamaku had attacked the camp, which was practically unguarded, and, cutting the tent ropes, had let the canvas down upon the sleeping men. Cards lay on the camp benches in confusion, showing that the men had been amusing themselves before retiring. “ Who had been ready? Where were the pickets? Who had been faithful? “ Only one; and he a little English bugler boy. One glance told the search party all that the Maoris afterwards related. Awake and alert, his quick eye and ear had detected the enemy. Firmly his right hand grasped the bugle for the first clear blast of warning. In an Instant a tomahawk flashed and fell, and as the bugle slipped from his nerveless fingers his left hand caught It, held it firmly to his lips, and another blast pealed out, thoroughly awakening his comrades. Again the relentless and unerring blow of the tomahawk, a faint cry of anquish as he fell prostrate, yet he pressed his lips to the fallen bugle for a long, last, quivering note ere another terrible blow struck him, and his glorious spirit fled. “ This great story of Allen, the bugler, should be told from end to end of our islands: nay, should rank with the brave deed of Jack Cornwall and the Birkenhead Redcoats in all the school books of the Empire.” SALVAGE OF THE GUILLEMOT NOT A SHIP—BUT A SEA BIRD In “ The Observer’s Book of British Birds ” Its author, Miss S. Vere Benson tells the story of a Guillemot, which she saved In a small Cornish village where she lives. “ When he came to us he was very ill,” says Miss Benson. “ His breast, wing tips, and feet were coated with the thick black waste oil from ships, which has destroyed such countless thousands of our sea birds. He had been making frantic efforts to scrape the filth from his plumage, but had only succeeded in getting nearly choked with it The process of cleaning him had to be done with great care, as he was nearly dying of exhaustion, and, although all skin and bones, refused the raw fish we offered him. “ We got the oil off his wing feathers with petrol, but as this method Is not good when applied to the skin, we had to use lard and then soap and water on his under parts, and even resorted to a little cautious clipping of feathers on the lower breast and under the tail. “ For over a week he was very ill, and lay cuddled against a not-water bottle which was swathed in many thicknesses of towel and placed in his box All this time we fed him by force with small quantities of raw fish “At last his strength began to return, he left his bottle and began to patter about the floor, and open his mouth for fish. We gave this to him in strips over halt an Inch wide and four or five inches long, and he took them and shook them ns he would n live fish, and swallowed them always thicker end foremost. •• He was very friendly and sometimes made grunting remarks, and when he had had enough fish he always turned his back and grunted. He followed everywhere like'a dog, and hated to be left alone, and had a great weakness for being fondled. He also showed remarkable intelligence in many things about which he could have had no natural Instinct, being one of the wildest species ol ocean birds, and by nature not being at all at home on land. He pattered about in an upright position like a little man in a white waistcoat and black tail coat. “After three or four weeks he was so strong and healthy that we took him to a rocky cove where he could easily take off Into the deep Atlantic. With many hesitations and backward looks of apparent regret he left us, and was lost to sight in the great deep.” OLD WRITERS’ WEEK Letters for Old Writers Week will be printed this year on January 3. Old Writers are Invited to send In their contributions —plainly marked ' Old Writers' Week ’’—between now and December No letters will be accepted after December 13. The letters must necessarily be short and writers ere urged to keep them within a limit of 300 words It Is hoped that there will be a generous response, and that the sixth appearance of tire Old Writers' letters in the Otago Dally Times will be a record one. and of Interest and benefit to all. DOT.

THE WORLD TO-DAY A STUDY OF MAN AND SOCIETY By J. M. M’Curdy (Special tor the Otago Dally Times.) That, however, was not the central teaching of Christ at all. He said, " I came that you may have life and have it more abundantly." Could not His death be taken as a sample of what we must all do—sacrifice our first childish ideas of being able to have everything we want even at the expense of others. Everyone has his wants, but we all cannot have all we want. The greatest joy is love, and there are always two people concerned in that. Christ said that by self-renunciation a true, full love could be found, and that is correct. To put in the words we have used so often; we are individuals living in a society with other individuals. If we can realise that and act as that, we, with our science, our inventions, and our thoughts, are ready to enter a new life of leisure, plenty, and happiness never before dreamed of. It. would Indeed be life more abundantly! China—how could China affect Rome in those far-away days? Certainly Rome brought many luxury articles from there, but sbe knew next to nothing about China's people, her geographical extent, or her social development. But China at this time was a prosperous, well-developed country, destined to remain a unit when the Roman Empire had crumpled up. Just as we have seen how away In the outskirts of the Roman Empire were nomadic Aryan tribes which were a constant menace to Rome, so on the outskirts of China were nomadic Mongolian which were perpetually raiding into China and being absorbed by her —that is, until China became strong and resisted them and they had to go elsewhere for their plunder. So they went westward from Turkestan until they came into the European area and the Roman Empire. They mixed a great deal with the Aryan nomads, since they had no great racial and political development such as settled people get. So we see how a settled, a strong, prosperous China was able to effect a weak, decadent Rome, indirectly, certainly, but none the less surely for that. (To be continued) DESIRED HAVENS By Alice F. Webb (Special for the Otago Daily Times.) CHAPTER 18 The first week at home was a very happy one. Aunt Bertha seemed so interested in all he had seen and done, that Peter’s tongue was never still, ana she took him into her confidence, to some extent, one wet day when they couldn t garden. He had asked a question, suggested by reference to a new house in course of building on the next section. “ We used to own that section and the one beyond it.” she had said. Why don’t you have them now? ho asked. His aunt looked at him thougnt£U" I had to sell them." she said. " You know your fatiier died very suddenly, and when I went to settle up his affairs I found there was a lot of money owing. So I sold those two sections, and then, by being very careful, I managed to pay >t all off. It's all clear now, she added “ I wish I had known,” he said. One ot the things I was so wild about was that I knew people said you were stingy, and must be hoarding money, because you were really quite well off. I wish I had known. How much was it?" "Nearly £6OO. I didn’t mean to tell you, because I wanted you to remember the good in your father, but perhaps it is better that you should know. That is why I have such a horror of debt. It spoilt his life, and I didn't want it to SJ> " I hope it never will." Peter spoke seriously. “ Do you know what I d like to do? I’d like to get a job at once, somewhere near, where I could live at home and give you all the money 1 earned to pay back what you had to spend. I’ve been thinking if I could get taken on at the gardens—l was coming along Carnarvon street this morning and looking over the hedge—it’s so close home, and I’d rather be a gardener, a nurseryman. you know, than anything else. " What a good idea, Peter; I would never have thought of that. Suppose you ask Mr Johnson to-morrow if he has a 30b for you. It’s such a healthy. Interesting Being so close to home I would have time, before and after work, to do anything you wanted me for here ” LETTERS FROM LITTLE FOLK Motto: We write for the benefit of others, not for ourselves. FIRST LETTERS Dear Dot,—May 1 join your happy band of Little Folk? I am twelve years old and in Standard IV at school. I play basketball and tennis. They are exciting games, and keep me warm. I am fond of sewing and knitting. X have always wanted to join your page. I close, with love to the Little Folk and your own dear Self ‘ SHY VIOLET WREATH (Macandrew Bay). [Certainly vou may join, Shy Violet Wreath, but I have had to change your name slightly. Yes, those arc exciting games—DOT.] v X* Dear Dot,—May I join your happy band of Little Folk? I am eleven years old and in Standard 111 at school. I have a pet lamb at home. He is all white. His tail is about three inches long. I feed him seven times a day. He is xed from a bottle. . Well, Dot, I must Close, with love to you and all the Little Folk. DADDY’S DEAR DARLING (Palmerston). (Welcome to you, Daddy’s Dear Darling, but your name also has had to be changed. What a pet your pet must be I—DOT.] BEST LETTERS JUNIOR SECTION (under 14 years). Dear Dot.—l am very sorry not to have written sooner. I have a baby sister. We milk 16 cows now, and 16 children go to our school. The boys play cricket. The apple trees are all blossoming now. At our school we each have a garden. Three children have ponies, which they bring to school. Congratulations. LITTLE IRISH GIRL (Tarara). (Are vou going to tell me more about the baby sister. Little Irish Girl? And about your garden at school? I hope so. —DOT.] * * Dear Dot,—Here I am at last. 1 have a brown and white Spaniel puppy at home, and I should like you please to suggest a name for him. I have also a greyish brown kitten whose name is M’Cready, because he was a better fighter than all the other kittens. We are practising for our Sunday school concert. Well, Dot, I must say good-bye. Love to you and all the Little Folk. A SAWYER'S DAUGHTER (Tahakopa) [Call the puppy. Galley, A Sawyer’s Daughter, and please tell me more about him.' You had a good reason for the name you chose for your kitten. I see. —DOT.] * Dear Dot.—l am going to write and tell you about the trip we had to Lawrence on Daffodil Day. We went by car. We started off at 8.30, arriving there at 11 a.m. We had a lovely trip. The road was very good except at Manuka Gorge, where they are doing repairs. Wc passed the train just a little way out of the Gorge; with a great many carriages attached to it it was Just creeping along When we arrived we had luncheon, and boiled the billy. That over we went up the hill and saw the daffodils We were very disappointed in them. They were not what we thought they would be, but we enjoyed the trip very much. The band was there and played. We had a stroll around and then started for home, stopping on the roadside and boiling the billy tor afternoon tea. Wc arrived home at '4.30, tired but happy after our enjoyable day. Kind regards. HUSTLE BUSTLE (Mosgiel) [So that was how your day was spent, Hustle Bustle. I am glad that you enjoyed it, despite your disappointment.— DOT.) Dear Dot,—Last Monday night when I came home from school I found that we had five kittens in a box, and that they arc a grey-blue colour. We also have 11 ducks. They like to swim in the water, so I gave them some fo swim in, They like to come In near the house, so that they can get food on their own. Then thev go back to the water to have a swim, while mother hen watches them in the water. I shall close now, with love to all the Little Folk and your own dear self GOLDEN DRAGONFLY (Portobello) [What lovclv things to find on your return from school, Golden Dragonfly I I should like to see the ducks and the hen. —DOT.] * * * Dear Dot,—l am going to tell you aboui our pups. We have nine of them One dog had ten, but six of them died, sonic with the cold and some with a sickness The other dog had six, but one died. They are dear little things, and their eyes are Just open. Nearly all of them are black and white, but some of them have a brownish colour on their backs. One of the mother dogs lets us pick up her pups and handle them, but the other hardly lets us touch them. Well, Dot, I must say good-bye for the time being, with kind regards to you and the Little Folk. DIMPLING WATER (Rock and Pillar).

[I should like to see the pups, Dimpling Water. What a time you are going to have with them when they are a little older!—DOT.] >.k afc Dear Dot.—l am going to tell you about a trip to Lawrence. It was a beautiful sunny day, and the daffodils were all in full bloom. When we arrived we had luncheon, and then my sister and I went for a walk over the hills, which were a mass of flowers. At half-past 3 we had afternoon tea and then left for home. I must close now, with love to all the Little Folk and your dear self. TONKY LASS (Otago). [You will find another Little Folk’s description of the daffodils in to-day’s page, Tonky Lass. Did you enjoy yourself?— DOT.] BEST LETTERS SENIOR SECTION (14 and under 21 years) Dear Dot,—How great it is to have fine weather after the cold, miserable winter, for spring certainly has made a good name for itself this year. It is weexs since we have had rain here, and all the farmers are calling out for it. I cannot understand why they cannot oe satisfied with the weather, for when it is wet they want sunshine. I wonder if thev expect the weather to change just to suit them. It they do they are wrong, for they are not the only persons in the world, and all cannot expect to be satisfied and have the weather just as they want it. We have to take what comes along and be satisfied with it. Myself, 1 think there Is still plenty of moisture in the ground for the crops, but I may be wrong, for I am not a farmer. How the birds seem to like the sunshine after the cold winter, for they are singing gaily in the trees, under whicn I am sitting writing and enjoying the sunshine. TINKLE (Hawea Flat) [A farmer relies on the weather ior his livelihood. Twinkle, and consequently takes much more heed of it than do other people. A bad season as regards weather means a had season as regards bread and butter.—DOT.] -i. Dear Dot,—lt was quite humorous that Theo Walters and his band should have shared the programme with Paderewski at a local picture theatre last week. The audience was thus given samples of both musical worlds. Those who came to revel in an orgy of swing rhythm found, later on. that they had to endure the more starightforward rhythm of Liszt and Chopin as Paderewski set them forth: while those who came to hear the great pianist had first to sit out half an hour of breezy nonsense, to describe it in complimentary terms. I am afraid that neither Mr Theo Walters nor his Personality Boys have succeeded in convincing me that "ISwing’s the thing,’’ despite their persistent trumpeting of the fact. All their sensations seemed just like bad jokes. No one seems to know just what this swing music is, but Mr Walters, upon being asked that question in an interview, got out of it very neatly by saying something to the effect that it was the sort of music that made you want to dance, or at least do something. May be so, but then so would a seventeenth-century hornpipe. I suppose it was part of the price of seeing M. Paderewski in action on the screen that we had to endure a rather stupid love story along with the music. Not even the presence of Dame Marie Tempeste in this cast could relieve the very ordinary nature of the story, and the “ Moonlight Sonata ” was made the basis of yet another tender romance. But the veteran pianist played his way through it all, and gave us one of the biggest musical thrills we have had in the cinema. But as far as all-round excellence went I should say that the best item on the programme was a Walt Disney Silly Symphony, which received the least advertisement and deserved the most. CHARLES DICKENS (Dunedin) [I have heard other comments on that evening’s performance. Charles Dickens, but I did not see It myself and I cannot say anything about it. —DOT.] Dear Dot,—Now that the warmer weather Is beginning insects of every kind are emerging in bright costumes, and despite the fact that some people consider it a waste of time, the naturalist in all his spheres becomes more intent in his interesting work of observing them. In the evenings the moths appear, and go racing madly around the electric light, and end up by dashing against the wall or some other objects, and are stunned by the impact. The colourings and markings on the moths that fly about at night are really marvellous, for that is their only form of protection from the birds In the daylight hours. I have seen a beautiful grey moth, with its wings spread on a weatherbeaten post, and Its colour was so near to that of the post that it was practically impossible to distinguish one from the other, only the moth was disturbed and its wings fluttered. If It was not for their protective colouring we would soon have no Insects. Most children have carried out experiments In the rearing of Insects. I have, too, and 1 found it very interesting watching their growth. Mv most successful experiments were with the magpie moth. I used to plant several groundsel plant In a box, and when I found one of those black and red striped catcrpllars I transferred it to the groundsel, and an inverted bottle kept it a prisoner. When it had eaten the groundsel, and It ate a good deal, I would place it on another plant. The wonderful thing about a butterfly is the stages it goes throughfirst the egg. then the caterpillar, then the chrysalis, and on a warm day a very damp butterfly emerges .but its wings soon spread, and dry and away will fly the magpie moth, resplendent with its black wings spotted white, and golden girdles on its bo<3y ‘ A YOUNG NEW ZEALANDER (Dunedin). [So you arc interested In insects, too, A Young New Zealander. Your description makes moths seem very desirable things indeed. —DOT.) Dear Dot,-I think that last time 1 told you I had the King Edward VIII set of stamps, and now I have the King George VI id, Id, lid. and 2Jd. These are far more attractive that) the Edwardian ones. I now have the Queen Victoria set of these stamps, too. But I have not got either the Id or 2Jd King Edward VII. The Coronation stamp of Kenya, Uganda, and Tanganyika 5 cent is prettier than ours, I think, and it has the date on it. On a letter my sister got from Switzerland the other day, besides having a date stamp, there was a rose imprinted on the stamps. 1 do not like the Canadian air mail 6-cent stamp at all. It is brown, and has a boy with wings with which he is flying. I like the united States Naval Academy 5-cent postage stamp, however. It is blue, and depicts two cadets standing on what 1 take to be their academy badge. During the war a tax of a halfpenny was put on, so halfpenny stamps had two black stars on them, and also the word war stamp. Well, now, it is bedtime. Dot, so I must close. Love to the Little Folk and your own self from LAUGH YOUR TROUBLES AWAY (Otago). [Your collection is growing, Laugh Your Troubles Away, and so is your interest in it. Please tell me what you see from your window, or what your room looks like, will you?— DOT.] Dear Dot,—l shall try to describe our small district. Walpahl is a small village containing one store, a post office, a railway station, a school containing 27 pupils, and several houses. The Walpahl River is not bad for fishing, and several people spend their spare time fishing or swimming in it. We live two miles from the township, as it is often called Walpahl is fourteen miles from Tapanui, and from 18 to 20 miles from Gore. In Walpahl there are also two churches, two railway houses, and a stationmaster’s residence. There arc several different kinds of trees here, known as macrocarpas, pinus insignus, willows, hawthorns; several different varieties of broom, and of course plenty of gorge. A bus runs from Edicvale and Tapanui to here daily, and often carries several passengers to and from the express. Well, Dot. where would you sooner live—in the town or in the country? I prefer the country, because I find it not so noisy as the town. I also forgot to mention that there is a hall, tennis courts, and a recreation or sports ground, where football is often played. There also is an hotel, but it was closed down about a month ago. So now there is not any. because the people shifted Into another house near the store. They still take In boarders, however. I close, with kind regards to the Little Folk and your own dear self. PRINCESS OF NO MAN’S LAND (Waipahl). [Thank you for your description, Princess of No Man’s Land. After reading it I am convinced that I prefer living in the country to the town.—DOT.] Dear Dot,—For some time now 1 have been pondering over the problem of fear, which Is an emotion that should be but rarely aroused. Fear, developed in a child, may lead to a feeling of inferiority, which may last all its life. In its composition fear is purely physical. We fear death because of the pain we expect, corresponding to physical pain. We fear the unknown, because of what damage it may do to the physical body Of course fear of something greater than ourselves may be quite useful. A certain amount of 'fear of being run over may save a child from rashly crossing a street. Fear of a wild animal will not allow us to take risks which might lead to our death. But fear of physical pain should never be used to make a child behave Proper treatment leads to proper behaviour: fear does not. Love to all the Little Folk and vour own self. LADY DANCING STAR (Dunedin), [We have been discussing this problem in the page for some time, Lady Dancing Star. Thank you for your opinions concerning it. I agree whole-heartedly with your two last sentences.—DOT.)

OLD WRITERS’ ASSOCIATION The Old Writers' Association will hold Its final social In Wilson Hall on Tuesday, November 16. This will be au extended night, crammed full of attractions, novelty dances, streamers, paper hats, an excellent supper, and ice creams. An orchestra of four Instruments will provide the music. All members and friends are cordially Invited to attend. Admission, one shilling. MORNING STAR TO PRESENT-DAY WRITERS An invitation is extended by the Old Writers’ Association to all present-day writers to attend the final social of the Association which will be held on Tuesday. November 18. at 8 p.m. in the Wilson Hall. All members who wish to attend are requested to meet the president, Charles Dickens, at the entrance, King street, at 7.43 p.m. that evening. MORNING STAR. OLD WRITERS’ NOTES Old Eighty-Sixer and his daughter wish to thank all those Old Writers, presentday Little Folk, and the executive of the Old Writers’ Association for their kind expressions of sympathy received by them in their recent breavement, NEW MEMBERS Doi extends a special welcome to the following Little Folk who have written to the page for the first time this wcek:Daddy’s Dear Darling, Shy Violet Wreath. OVERSEAS CORRESPONDENTS Little Folk who wish to correspond with people in India and Ceylon should write to Mr M. E. Wilson, c/o Otago Dally Times, Dunedin, C.l, stating their age, address, and hobbles, and enclosing a stamped and addressed envelope for reply # * Little Folk who wish to correspond with people in Canada or the United States should write to Miss M Vernon, c/o Otago Daily Times, Dunedin, C.l, stating their age, address, and hobbies, and enclosing a stamped and addressed en- : velope for reply. Little Folk who wish to join a correspondence club should write for particulars (o Patricia Wilson, Box 12, Balclutha. stating age, name, and address.