Dot's Little Folk THE HOUSE OF A THOUSAND WINDOWS

Otago Daily Times, Issue 23686, 19 December 1938, Page 17

Dot's Little Folk

THE HOUSE OF A THOUSAND WINDOWS

XL/ Inaugurated Jury 16,1886, #® by thie OTAGO WITNESS

Dot lnvlt.cs letters or not more than 300 words In length from her young friends throughout the Dominion on any matters in which thoy are interested.

New members must enclose their name una address. These will not be published, and are for roslMratlon purposes only. Little Folk should write on one »>!e of the paper only, and In Ink, and should uddress their letters " Dot, care of Editor, Otai;o Daily Times." Every letter must state the age of the writer for Dot's private Information The retiring sue Is 21. after which Little Kolk become Old Writers Dot's Little Folk's Badge; with pin, for use as a brooch, is obtainable on application to Dot. lace 2s 6d, lu stamps or costal notes.

THE WEEK'S POEM As this is Christmas time, 1 have ohos a poem for you, children, telling of In a child imagined on Christmas night 11. all the characters in his favourite stc books were holding a party. And wr fun they had! I hope your Christn festivities will be as merry as this one DOT ON CHRISTMAS NIGHT I woke from sleep on Christmas Night The sky was clear and the stars we bright, The moon peeped over the window sill, •> And all the house was hushed and still Save down in the hall, where Grandfath Talked to himself with a faint 'Tic) tock." So up to the landing stairs I crept And passed the room where Bridget slei Up in the roof there's a room I know. An attic where I and Bridget go, And our books are there on a shelf, lr. row. I stopped at the door and listened an heard A. sound like the sigh when the leaves ri\ stirred , By the soJt night wind; and then .h. Of a tiny drum, and the patter of feet. And next 1 caught (but faint and thim The elfin notes of a violin. Below the crack of the attic door Was a pale blue flame on the tttic flooi So I put my eye to the lock to see Whatever this fairy light could be. And a Christmas Tree came into view. With a hundred candles burning blue. And round it circled three times three The merriest, maddest company. All the folk that I'd met in stories, Kings and Caliphs, Whigs and Tories. Elves and Warlocks, pale Princesses. Fairies, too, in fancy dresses. Some were ragged; some were dapper: » Shiffle-shuffle, tipper-tapper. How they Jigged and twirled and turned While bluer till the candles burned. I stood for a second or two outside. Then purhed the door till it opened wide Th« room was empty; the dancers gone; Gone was the tree; bu' the moonlighi shone Ai . „ Cold and white on the attic wall Where my Story Books stood; and that was all. _Hugh Chesterman TO ALL Dear Little Folk.-Christmas will be here very soon now, and I can just imagine in what a state of bustle and eSment you -all are. buying you Christmas presents and wond ring what you are going to receive. Christmas is essentially the children's own season The tiny tots welcome it as the time when Santa Claus fills their stockings with the toys they particularly wish for. School children look forward to it as the bringer of holidays and feasting, as well as gifts, while the older ones eagerly anticipate the excitement and pleasure of picnics and parties. But there are some, as Charles Dickens in his letter to the page this week reminds us, for whom Christmas means a tremendous amount of extra work, so in the • midst of our festivities let us remember those who have contributed so largely to our enjoyment— the postmen who deliver our 'Christmas mail, the people in the shops who' serve us so cheerfully, and last but not least, the busy mothers who toil from early morning till late at night, cooking, baking, and sewing for their families. Wishing you all a merry Christmas and happy holidays. Your loving m . DOT

1 expect he will do it this way evci.v ar now. Next year, though, he will obobly have a bigger fleet, beeau.se ,penal Airways, who are entitled to a iristmas present as much as anybody ie, have asked him for some new Hirers and flying boats, and he hah omised to let them have them as a .vard for carrying his mails for him. The arrangement is working so well at a very rich gentleman in Englotid 10 owns the Post Office has decided ask Imperial Airways to carry letlcr.s d parcels in their aeroplanes all the >ar round, and Imperial Airways, who >-e very helpful people, have agreed 'to o so. TOM THUMB DOLLS In a little town in Mexico (says an ,-iglish writer) a clever Indian woman is usy making what must surely be the lost unusual dolls in the world, for they re only three-quarters of an inch long Many are the visitors from far corner? f the world who have watched het imble fingers fashioning these fascinatng little people. Each doll takes about wo hours to make. She first winds ;ilk round a piece of wire to get the :orrect shape, and then she begins the nore intricate part of making the clothes, vhich are all exquisitely embroidered. After that comes the most difficult task of all, the hair and face, each face >eing a work of art, for each doll has i character of its own. Sombreros are jlaced jauntily on their tiny heads, and i native serape is thrown over the shoulder When finished these dolls are a joy to behold, and old and young delight in buying them from their maker, Isabel Beaunsaren of, Cuernavaca. THE DISCOVERY •' 1 am just certain," confided Gladys, ' that I know where mother has hidden our Christmas presents. They are in one of the boxes in the attic." "Really and truly?" askeo Tony e A citedly, and Gladys nodded her head Their" eyes sparkled with delight and mischief, and they ran upstairs two at a tinw. " Which box is it?" Tony wanted to know. Gladys surveyed them with a puzzled frown, and said: "I can't tell you that; but I saw mother come up here with a big box—a most, Interesting-looking box -and I want you to help me find it.' "It might be in this big trunk.' suggested the boy. " It seems a likely place to pop things into." They pulled up the lid carefully, for it was very heavy, and rummaged deep amongst the summer garments stored there; but they found no box. " We-elll " said the twins, In one breath They felt disappointed, but decider' to make a more thorough search. There was a pile of boxes in graduated sizes beside the trunk, and Tony said it would be a good idea to open them one by one, then lift them on to the floor. The top one was a hat-box, and quite disappointing. The second was more promising, for it was a box of the exact size and shape seen by Gladys when her father visited the attic. In great excitement they untied the string, pulled off the lid, and found—a collection of their old clothes and toys I "Oh!" cried Gladys, and "Oh!" cried Tony and they looked ready to weep Then, just how it happened they never could tell; perhaps they were both standing on the same edge of the box, for both over-balanced and fell together into the big trunk. The lid came down with a bang, and they were prisoners. "Glad-ysl Ton-yl Where are you? called their mother; and "Here, mum! came in very muffled tones from inside the trunk

FATHER CHRISTMAS AND HIS 80 AEROPLANES . • A STORY FOR CHILDREN By Uncle Jim Barley father Christmas is using a whole fleet of aeroplanes this year to carry his card* and toys to Africa, India, and Australia They are not his own aeroplanes, of course, because his home after all is not a very big place, and where could he keep 80 aeroplanes all the Year round? He couldn't possibly do it. Most of his toys come from England and his sleigh Isn't quite big enough, you know, to hold the millions of letters ami cards and parcels that are going out to the'Empire this Christmas. So Father Christmas thought perhaps he had better get some help, and one day he called at Imperial Airways office in London and asked them to lend him their fleet

Then you may be sure that she took the stairs two at a time. She pushed back the lid of the trunk just a$ ths twins were feeling almost suffocated. " Whatever 7 she wanted to know When they told her, rather shamefacedly, that they had been . longing to look inside the box she laughed heartily " You quaint little people," said she, " and all the reward you got was a laist sight of your old cast-offs, which I put aside for the next rummage sale. As a matter of fact, I have not bought your presents yet; but when I do I shall lock them up, my dear detectives, and hang the key round my neck."—An exchange. LETTERS FROM LITTLE FOLK Motto: We write foi the benefit of others, not for ourselves. BEST LETTERS JUNIOR SECTION <undei 14 years) Dear Dot,—The weather has been very bad, and there were a few slips here last Sunday Our little budgie is very funny, for when mother won't let him out to fly with the sparrows, he makes a screeching sound. Some nights he stays out We had another budgie and we called it Jill, but it died. We had a flood up here not very long ago, and the river was up to the bank by our house, and the path where the cows go out was flooded- Our two pigeons are tame now, and che mother pigeon has had some eggs, only they were spoiled with the thunder. Well I must close, with love to you and the Little Folk. LITTLE MISS MARKEB (Parera) [What a lot of tricks the weather has been playing, Little Miss Marker! It is to be hoped it will behave better during the holidays. What a pity one of your budgies died! The other one must be very amusing.—DOT. 1 ¥ * * DeaT Dot,—l am going to tell you about the lovely time I had down at the Warepa School on December 6. Miss Petrie invited our school children down for parents' day The Warepa children gave items, and after lunch we received toys and all the girls of Kaihiku got a fan and a bag of marbles We are having an afternoon on December 16 I must close now A merry Christmas to vou and all vour Little Folk Love from SLEEPY PATE !Warepa; fl am glad you had such a happy time. Sleepy Pale. Thank you for your good wishes.—DOT.] .f. '* # Dear Dot,— My brothers names are Leslie, Noel, and Clarence, and my sister?' are Isobel and Margaret I shall close now. with love to all and your own dear self. HOUSE MAID I Clyde) [What pretty names you all have, House Maid! Thank you for the sweet little poem you have sent, but I cannot publish poems from the Little Folk unless they themselves have composed them—DOT.l H. * V Dear Dot,—l hope you are very, well Our rabbits have got out. One is dead, and one is lost. We may find the lo.st one, but I do not think so. I think he is lost for ever. The dogs might have caught him. but I cannot tell TEXAS (Nasebyj [1 am sorry, Texas, to hear about the sad fate of your rabbits, but hope that you may still find the one that was lost.—DOT.] BEST LETTERS SENIOR SECTION 114 and under 21 years i Dear Dot,—One golden ribbon of light against a background of dark-blue, ever widening until a curved line, is visible, gives us our first glimpse of a rising full moon. Up and up she sails, casting a bright radiance over a dark sky, while in

You would think that Imperial Airways with thousands of passengers and tons ot mall and freight to carry to Dodoma and Koh Samui, Kisumu, and Waikato aivn hundreds of other places all over the world, would be too busy to do all this extra work for Father Chritsmas But not a bit of it

Everybody has to make special effort of some kind at Christmas time, and this is Imperial Airways' special contribution to the peace on earth and goodwill among the nations that we all think so mucn about at Christmas Then, too, they have the men ana iney have the ships—a great fleet of ships and a fine body of men, hundreds of captains and hundreds of ships. Ships of the air. mind you. that travel hundreds of miles an hour, thousands of feet above the earth, where'they do not get in anybody.-, way and there is nothing to stop them going as fast as they like and wherever they want to

Imperial Airways, too, is so good at geography that they know where everywhere is and how to get there Their flying boats, for instance, start at bouthhampton and even with his eyes shut the captain can find his way to Durban, or even to Australia, which is simply thousands of miles away, without ever Retting lost and without ever looking at a sign post, although there is a sign posi at Karachi, in India, which they could look at If they wanted to. From Croydon other aeroplanes—noi flying boats, because they do not Iiv«; when they are not flying on the water. but landplanes, because they can stand up on the ground—go to Paris, which is in France, and Zurich, which is In Switzerland, and other far-off places In all sorts of foreign countries, just as flying boats do, only when they come down, they comt down on the land instead of on the water They never lose their way because they have instruments and things in the aeroplane that show them how to get to wherever they are going, and whether they are going the right way or wrong way The instruments show them when to turn to the left and when to turn to the right And they even have an instrument that will guide the aeroplane by itself if the captain wants to iook at his map or work out his position bv th* stars. These aeroplanes, instead ot naving lour reindeers to pull them through the air. have four engines each, and each engine is stronger than 200 reindeers and 200 times as fast. When the aeroplanes arrive ar. Nairoot or Durban, or Raj Samand. or whereyer they happen to be going, Fathei Chris»tmas goes down to the airport and meets them himself. Then he has the letters and parcels tor the district transferred to his sleigh, whips up his reindeer and away he goes and delivers the oresents in person. The aeroplanes are a great help to him too. For instance, if a boy in Durban who has been bad for a week suddenly starts being good Father Christmas has to get him a present in a hurry So he goes into a little red telephone booth and calls UP London and says, " Send me an electric train or a set ot draughts or a big red apple,"" or whatever the case may be, and Imperial Airways put it on their next aeroplane and Father Christmas gets it in time.

the gentle flowing waters of the sea she can see her own reflection. Upward she climbs and onward she moves throwing a bright light on everything around. The leaves on some of the trees glisten and shimmer as they sway to and fro in the breeze. The picture on the moon to-night looks like a mother rocking her baby to sleep in its craddle. Ever onward, ever upward, she will travel until daylight comes again to mar her brilliance. Kindest regards to you and your Little Folk BLOSSOM OF SPRING (Waimate)

[IK is indeed a beautiful sight, Blossom of Spring, to see the full moon rising out of the sea and sailing in splendour across the skies, leaving a trail of glory in her wake.—DOT.]

Dear Dot,—l have just made another resolution to write more regularly, so here I am again. At present, our school is in the grip of the beloved " end-of-term feeling. Everyone is thinking excitedly about holidays, and the first thing that they will do when they get home. Swimming and tennis are in full swing, but not even the delights of a large swimming pool cause us to be oblivious of the joys of surfing and sea bathing at home Just now, the very mention of the worn home " sets loose a flood of talk about everything wonderful that we are going to do in the holidays. For me, holidays bring Christmas shopping in Dunedin (I love the place), all the gaiety of Christmas week, with its swimming, picnics, and such amusements, then a birthday—so the summer goes on. Do you think that there is any more delightful time than summer? But even as 1 write there comes to me a memory of my saying " All the really pleasant things happen in winter (particularly in Dunedin when it snows). Perhaps I should say, " Is there any better time than going home?' Even already l have seen girls sorting out their belongings and inspecting cases preparatory to packing. That is another of my delights, no matter where I am going. Packing is a most important part of boarding-school life—at least, I mean the art of making two cases do the work of three or four. Give any girl three years at boarding school, and I can guarantee that she will be an adept at this intriguing art. There springs to my mind a picture of our dormitory at the end of the year, two girls sitting on cases, and a third going round fastening the locks. In another week, the school and hostel will be deserted. The corridors that echoed ths girlish chatter and laughter will be s lent The bright, sunny dormitories will be empty. The long, cool dining room will be strangely quiet. The tennis courts will no longer be full of talk and flying balls and the ring of good rackets. Thinking thus, it seems hard to leave the beloved school where so many happy days have been spent. The joy of holidays is always tinged with the regret of going away Is my letter disconnected? Maybe, but it is this mixture of sights, sounds, and ideas that make up the " end-of-term feeling. Kind regards. GREY-EYED BLONDE (Hillgrove).

[No, Grey-eyed Blonde, your letter is not disconnected: for through it there runs a spirit of joyous anticipation a light-heartedness in keeping with the season. May you have a very happy holiday.—DOT.]

Dear Dot.—Christmas approaches once more A harassed friend recently said to ml fn a letter. "I don't feel a bit festive do you? " And, being one of those people to whom Christmas means extra work rather than festivity, I had to agree. The usual signs of the season are now to be observed, especially in the shops, where the business of procuring gifts is being carried on with what seems like more thoroughness than ever, the Tourist Bureau is sadly overworked, and the schools are all closing But the wholj message of the season, with its ring ol "peace and goodwill" seems somewhat hollow in this troubled world, and although one powerful nation has promised us "a festival of peace" this Christmas another threatens to create a crisis not long afterwards. In a world where we seem to be living perpetually on the edge of a volcano, this festive season, and all that it stands for, will no doubt be enjoyed as whole-heartedly as possible, we can turn from the nervous state of the world to our more personal worries one of which is the matter of presents. For •that reason I am always glad when Chris vmas is over, for despite the helpful attitude of the shops and the bewildering display of every conceivable jtind ot merchandise, the gift problem is still an annoying item to attend to It is not merely a question of what our friends would like, but also of what they already have, and what we ourselves find we can afford. Dear old Santa Claus is the only one who seems to keep his head at thu time, and also the only person who seem? to know what everyone wants. But enough of these Christmas which are certainly not in keeping with the spirit of the season. Let me wish the merriest of Christmases to yourself, and to all our writers and readers, and I will have achieved the main purpose of this tiresome letter! CHARLES DICKENS (Dunedin)

iThere is a great deal of truth, Charles Dickens, in what you say. Christmas does bring a lot of extra work to many people, and you have my sympathy However. I hope that you will be able to enjoy the rest and refreshment of the day itselr, and catch something of its spirit. I thank you for your good wishes, which I cordially reciprocate.—DOT.]

Dear Dot,—What couid ne more peaceful than this? I am sitting on a sunny veranda at Kurow, where I am spending a holiday to recover from the after effects of the measles. It is a beautiful day The sky is bright blue, and the most wonderful white clouds are sailing across it Before me stretch fields of the brightest yellow flowering bushes, and beyond that the river, which I can only see in two or three places, as bushes hide it from view Behind the river are hills Why do I "ay there are hills behind the river? For there are hills all round—friendly hills that enclose the township—green-brown hills that have a comforting look There are huge pulfv white clouds sailing over the hills now It would be lovely to be standing on top of them now One would almost be up in the clouds The only things that are not Nature's own. are the tall masts at the foot of the hills carrying the power lines from Lake Waltaki 1 do not resent their presence though, because I like to think of the great power tha' lies behind them. The birds are singmg in the trees, and now and then a whit" butterfly flits gaily past 1 have not the? heart to chase them, so 1 can only hope that they do not find their way to the vegetable garden. The wind is rather strong, but otherwise It is very peaceful especially when compared with the town I very much prefer the country to the town.' Which do you like. Dot? There are red poppies and yellow marigolds nodding gaily in the garden There 13 also a huge japonica bush which must look very lovelv when it is in flower It is lovelv here, where " God's in his heaven, all's right with the world' Kindest regards. FAIRY FOX (Kurow ) [Your picture of life in the country, Fairy Fox, is most attractive, and makes one long to be there too. At the same time living in town has many compensations. I hope you arc feeling quite strong again.—DOT.]

Dear Dot,—Old Man Time certainly has made a speedy journey over this year; in fact a longer-sojourn with 1938 would be most acceptable, so smooth and happy has been its passage. There are numerous ambitions we all intended to realise, and still more resolutions we determined to accomplish, but as we now reach the last lap of fourteen days until the great 1938 voyage terminates, we realise time has not permitted their fulfilment, or we have fallen short of our New Year resolves. The end of the journey is usually the most exciting, because soon will dawn another bright New Year. At least we hope that will be so for everybody. Within one week of our yearly trip that congenial old man, Santa Claus, has promised us a treat. He must surely be a friend of the years, as he comes with them always, and perhaps his treat is a little farewell gift from each departing year. All of the younger folk have compiled unlimited requests for that dear friend, also older folk have wild claims on his generous nature. Looking back over the year's voyage it has been, on an average, splendid. Sometimes the wind has ceased to blow, when our sail boat seemed to get no . further ahead; at other times it has been boisterous, and we have lost a bit of headway, and probably a bit of tempei too, while the fair winds, the gentle breezes, and the moderate conditions have allowed each little galleon to drift to the end of the voyage and commence the new one of 1939. Best of Christmas and New Year wishes for all Little Folk, Old Writers readers, and your own dear self. DAPHNE DE ORE (Balclutha)

[I am glad the old year has been such a happy one for ycu, Daphne de Ore, and I hope that the coming one will be still happier. I like the way you have described the " voyage " of the old year. -DOT.]

Dear Dot,— " Once in Royal David's City, • Stood a lowly cattle shed, Where a Mother laid her baby, With a manger for his bed. Mary was that Mother mild, Tesus Christ, her little child"

One thousand nine nundred ana cmrtyeiglit years ago, Caesar Augustus decreed that the whole world should be taxed To do this the people had to return to the city of their forefathers Thus it came about that Joseph and Mary travelled to the City of David. Bethlehem, because Joseph was of the house of David So crowded was it that they had to sleep in a manger In this humble abode God sent a little son to them His mother wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a stall in the manger On the same night, as the shepherds were keeping watch over their flocks, an angel visited them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them At first they were afraid, but the angel reassured them, telling them of good tidings—the birth of the child Jesus the Saviour The same night also, a star appeared in the sky, and, guided by its bright light, three wise men came to the manger to worship the child of Mary and Joseph. He was called Jesus, and after his parents had finished their business, they returned to their own home. For twelve years Jesus was a healthy, happy lad, going every year with his parents to the Feast of the Passover In his twelfth year his parents on the return journey missed him, and on going back found him in the temple asking the wise men questions Till He was thirty Jesus lived at nome helping in his father's carpenter's shop Then He left his nome to minister to the people, nealing and preaching to them, never thinking of himself, always working for the poor and sinful and helping them in every way right up until His tragic death This is the man Whose birthday we will remember in a few short days Only once a year do we especially think -of Christ's birthday Some of us do not even think or it then All we think of is the presents we will receive and the fun we will have Can we not amidst this busy life spare one day to worship Jesus Christ, and what day is better than His birthday? He 'F the world's greatest statesman LAUGH YOUR TROUBLES AWAY (Otago)

[You have told us very nicely in your own words, Laugh Your Troubles Away, the story of the birth of Christ, and it is well thai we should be reminded of the real meaning of Christmas —DOT.]

OLD WRITERS* WEEK Letters for Old Writers' Week wilt be published this year on December 31. OVERSEAS CORRESPONDENTS Little Folk wishing to correspond with residents in Canada should write to Miss M. A. Vernon, Private Bag, Central Shotover, Queenstown, enclosing a stamped addressed envelope for reply and stating age, address, hobbies, and requirements. FISH From sharks 30 feet long, and so fierce that sailors call them the tigers of the sea, to the harmless goldfish shining in garden pools there are endless kinds of fish of almost every imaginable shape and size and colour and habit. There are flying fish, fish that climb trees, fish with bodies so transparent that we maysee through them. There are fish as bright as a summer rainbow, electric fish which can give a man a severe shock, illuminated iish carrying their own lanterns about the midnight pastures of the ocean depths, sword fish which we may think of as unicorns of the sea, and fish armed with nearly as many spines as a porcupine. There seems no end to the denizens of the deep, and all are wonderful. Even the common fish which come to our table are creatures of mystery, the plaice with its queer " one-sided " body, the salmon amazing us by its ability to leap up stream, the odd little whiting which Alice in Wonderland thought of as swimming with its tail for ever in its mouth, the herring which belongs to the biggest family of all. Fishing, like farming, must be one ol the oldest of occupations Century after century men have gone down to the sea in ships to reap the silver harvest; and our own shores have a great company of hardy fishermen who daily put out to sea in boats which are little different from those used long ago. We have scores of fishing ports and hundreds of fishing villages, where we may come upon weathered fishermen in blue and most of them can boast that their fathers and grandfathers baited lines and shot their nets with never a thought of the hazards they ran Along our coasts and by our streams we find the anglers, followers of Izaak Walton. Fish have found their way into our everyday speech, for we say of an awkward person that he is like a fish out of water; we talk of a pretty kettle of fish; and sometimes we declare that something is neither fish flesh, nor fowl nor gold red herring. Fish come into many legends, the most famous of all being stories of lost rings afterwards found in fish served at table. Tradition says that one of the ceremonial rings worn by the Pope once belonged St. Peter, who was a fisherman; and the old tale reminds us that there were simple fishermen among the twelve who turned the world upside down; and that it was Jesus who said to Simon and Andrew as they mended their nets - .' Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.—An exchange.

The Sunshine Man lived on the top of a hill, in the House of a Thousand Windows, and everyone went to him for advice. They did not go into the house; but he would sit inside it with the windows open and listen carefully to their troubles. Then he would tell them what to do, and they would go away happy, telling each other. " The Sunshine Man is always right." The Queen's palace was only a few leagues from the House of a Thousand Windows. She did not know anything about the Sunshine Man, until one day she heard some of her kitchen folk talking about him, and saying that he was the most wonderful person in the land. Of course this displeased the Queen; for who could be more wonderful than she? Later, when she heard some of her courtiers speaking in the same fashion, she became furiously jealous, and determined that the man's career must be stopped. She gave orders that huge blinds should be made and drawn over the thousand windows. " The glitter hurts my eyes so," she complained. " I can see it from my apartments." The men who made the blinds did not dare to protest, for the Queen's temper was well known. They were very sorry

to shut out the light from the Sunshine Man, however, and told him so as they climbed up to fix the blinds He only smiled and said nothing at all. The blinds remained down foi a weeK. and no one was able to consult the Sunshine Man about anything. Then one day the Queen herself happened to be in great trouble and sorely needed advice She stormed at her counsellors when they tried to help her, calling them simpletons and sardines who were no use at all " I will go to the Sunshine Man,' she said at last in despair Several courtiers went with her up the hill Arrived at the top, they started to roll up the blinds; but, instead of glass they discovered nothing but a tall pole and a framework of wood holding up the blinds. The Sunshine Man and his glass house had entirely disappeared but a scroll attached to the pole gave the very advice the Queen had been seeking So, of course, her courtiers went awav. saying more firmly than ever that flip Sunshine Man was the most wonderful person in the world This time the Queen believed them; but he never came back, and she always regretted the rash action which banished him from her land.—An exchange. THE GIRAFFE you have all seen pictures of that strange, gawky, creature, the girafTe. and if you were asked what markings h has on his coat you would probably sav that he is covered with dark brown patchrs You would be quite right if it was the Nubian girafTe you were talking about but there is another kind, tht Cape giraffe, wi.ich has three horns instead of two and has lines Instead of patches on his coat But both kinds are mort ot less the same in their habits The E'iraffe chews the cud in the same vvav as a cow does He lives mainly on leaves (his long neck help? him to reach them) which he'nlucks from the trees with his tongue It Is a curious sort of tongue, for it is very long and as it is a great deal exposed to the sun it is covered with » sort of cum for protection In the country where these animals live there is very little water, and for days and weeks there may be none at all; vet the giraffe manages to live This is uecause it live: mainly on the leaves of the acacia, and as they contain a Rreat deal of water thev make drinkine •>■ necessary The girafle is a harmless unnnai, ana preyed on by the lion and the other cats, but its lanky legs carry it along very quickly, and soon take it to safety.—An exchange.