LETTERS FROM LITTLE FOLWS.

Otago Witness, Issue 181, 6 August 1886, Page 35

LETTERS FROM LITTLE FOLWS.

DEAR Dot,— I have had a present made me of a " shanghai," which I had long wished to have. All the boys I know almost have one, and have fine fun with them. When I took my shanghai home mamma said she did not wish me to play with it, as they are nasty mischievous things. When I looked disappointed she told me to write to you and ask you what you thought about it, so please will you tell me what you think ? — Yours truly, Bob.

Dear Bob, — I am goingito take sides with mamma, and say that I also think that shanghais are nasty mischievous things. No doubt they are " fine fun," and I daresay it requires to be a boy to thoroughly understand what fine fun is, and perhaps, too, a boy only can fully understand what an act of self-sacrifice it will be for you, after once becoming the happy possessor of what you have long coveted, to put your " shanghai " quietly by and say no more about it ; but your mamma will understand the sacrifice, and will feel prouder of her boy than if by practice he became a first-rate shot with the " nasty mischievous thing." Shanghais are no use unless you can shoot with them, and there is really nothing in the world that little boys are required to shoot — at least with shanghais — and, as a consequence, they shoot something that did not require shooting — another boy's head for instance, or a window, or a helpless little bird. Now boys argue — for boys can argue as well as lawyers — that some birds are a pcst — sparrows for instance, and the more there are killed the better. That may be quite true and sensible, but i* does not hold good that it is well for boys to be the exterminators, for this reason : — It develops in a boy crnelty. Let the grown up folk find the means to do the killing when there is need for it. They act from the dictates of reason, but a boy once growing callous in regard to hurting any creature that can feel is in danger of becoming cruel, and from simple thoughtlessness passing on to a real love of hurting. So, dear Bob, take mamma's advice, leave the shanghai alone. It is no fun unless you can hit something with it, and hitting cracks, breaks, and hurts. — Yours, &c,

Dbab Dot, — I had a party on my birthday, the 9th of July, and I invited a few girl friends to celebrate it. Mamma got the baker to bake a cake with icing on it, and my name in pink sugar on the top. We played all sorts of games — racehorses, black man, in which my brother blacked his face and tried to frighten us, dumb show, at which we laughed a great deal. I got a few presents, and altogether I spent a Tery happy birthday . — Yours sincerely,

Belle.