LETTERS FROM LITTLE FOLKS.

Otago Witness, Issue 2006, 4 August 1892, Page 40

LETTERS FROM LITTLE FOLKS.

July 19

Dear Dot, — I do not think you have bad » letter from a Blackbird before. I sing very sweetly now, as spring is coming on. My coat; is of dusty hue. I have a nost in a bush iv athick hedgo. I lay five green eggs with brown spots on them, and sometimes little boys rob my nest for the sake of the pretty eggs. My nest is made of soft mud made smooth and lined with grass. I feed on, snails, worms, and fruit. I love to sit on a branch and pour forth my rich notes. Dear Dot, my toes are getting quite tired, so I cannot write any more. — Youra falling asleep, - Blackiiiuu. Green Bush, July 25. [Thank you, Blackbird. You have done very well. I am sure many little folks will wonder if you are one of the cheeky pair who hop about in their gardeas just after a shower looking for worms. If you ever come as far as .Dunedin, I may indeed see you some day myself without knowing it, and whenever I do see a blackbird in the garden I shall wonder if it is the one who wrote. — Dot.] Dear Dot, — I am a very Little Dog, and my name is John. Don't you think my master could have got a prettier name for me ? My colour is black and white, and I have no tail. I sometimes go rabbiting, but I get caught in traps, and then I have to stay afe homo for a few days until my foot gets better. I am too small to catch rabbits, as they are nearly as big as myself. I sometimes go among horses, and that is as bad as tho traps, foe they tramp on my toes. My master has about 10 miles to go every Wednesday, aud Igo with him. Ho rides on a horse, and I have to run hard to keep up with him. I like the horse very well, but I have another playmate Ido not like so well. It is a cat«. He is black and white also. The reason I do* not like him is because he gets petted and is allowed to stay in the house when I am out iv tho shop, for, you see, my master is a blacksmith. The cat's name is Tommie. But for all that Tommie and I have some fine fun together. My master has a mate working with him, but I forget his name just now. Woulil you like my master to write you some day ? Ho might write when he sees my letter. Duar Dot, if ever you come up this way you must call and see me, and my master will give you a cup of tea, as I have no mistress yet. — Your little friend, JonN (aged 1 year 6 months). July 19. [Fancy Little Dog John inviting me to come and see him ! And fancy Little Dog John not contented with his name ! Why, if I were his master I should call him Stumpy John just to punish him. However, he writes quite a nice letter, and if John's master can do as well I hope wo shall hear from him at once. — Dot.'J Dear Dot, — I am a Wild Dog. My name is Monkey. lam living with Maori, the wild dog who wrote to you trom Gibson's Hill. I remember when we were puppies we used to live at Miller's Flat. I have two brothers and two sisters. Their names are Ag, Tan, Bishop, and Maori. We are of a mixed breed, and are called mongrels. We used to get nearly starved in the summer time, but in winter wo go poaching poisoned rabbits, and have plenty to eat. .La 8 t winter Tan took the distemper, and Ag was very bad with the mange. Being frightened of this dreadful disease Maori and I cleared out to Gibson's Hill. We had been away from the Flat about two months, I came in to post the letter from Maori, and on my getting back I could not find my brother, and I am afraid he fell into tho hands of the manager aud shepherd, who used to chase us all over the country. Being afraid that they might also get hold of me and put mo to death I came iv to the Flat again, and I am now living with my brother and two sisters. I told them of my travels since I left them. Ag was very sorry to hear about Maori boiug lost, as she was very fond of him. Bishop proposed to start "a butcher's shop" at a hill called Stoney Pinch. Ho can work sheep himself, and I am to do all the killing, and we will be assisted by Ag and Tan. — Yours truly, Miller's Flat, July 24-. Monkey. [Little did we think when reading Maori's letter that he had already been caught and punished for his ravages among the sheep. Perhaps if Monkey had not been away at the time he might also have been taken, aud then I suppose we should never have heard of Maori's fate. I wonder if the manager and shepherd will write and tell us what they did with Maori. — Dot.] Dkar Dot, — I am a Cow, -and my name is Lily. I have been with the one master since I was a calf. lam pretty old now. The other night I broke into the barn and ate half a bag of potatoes, so I was shut up in the loose box all day. As they have no bail they always milk me without one. I have a calf, but lam not going to ask you for a name for it, as its name is Jemima. Dear Dot, there has been a. lot of r.iiu here lately, aud the roAd.s are very muddy. I can't write any more- as th«sy are looking for me to milk me. — Yours truly, Lily (aged 19 years). Evan's Flat, July 25. [Lily must have been a good cow to have been kept by her master all those years. I hope the next time she writes she will tell us something about the large family she must have raised. — Dor.] Deab Dot, — A coach passes here every night and morning. There are plenty of ferns and native shrubs, and birds of all kinds where we live, and it is very nice to hear them singing. The rabbits are being poisoned about here. I think the animals that write to you are very clever. I am getting a flower garden made, aud lam going to plant some seeds in it. I have six brothers and four sisters. — Yours truly, Bessie Smith (aged 12 years). Island Block, July 25. Dear Dot, — I will tell you what nice presents uncle bought me. First was a nice watch like his own, then a nice money box with fancy little pieces of silver all over, and then a puzzle. We are just going to lay poison. I shall now tell yru about out- tiip iroia the Authills. We went over on y.'ilurday to cut some oats with the binder. We fiuishud on Saturday night, aud were coming home on Monday, but it started to rain in the morning, aud we came homo on Wednesday in the pouring rain. It came down in bucketsful. We should not have come home then, only we were like Mother Hubbard — our cupboard was bare. We were three hours and a-half in getting home. I shall now tell you tho names of the horses on which we rode. I rode on Whitefoofc,

aunty on Violet, and uncle on Diamond, and Flower followed behind. Grip and Rose walked, and aunty carried Towsin'e. Grip is nine years old, and he is such an honest dog. When uncle is cutting up a sheep he won't let cats or dogs touch it, and he won't touch it himself. "When we go over to the Anthills — that'will be in three weeks — to lay poison for rabbits, I shall tell you about the farm and river. — Yours truly, James Harker Williams (aged 7 years and 8 months). Heriot, Swift Creek, July 23. THE WOODS. Oft in the leafy woodland borers Passed we many happy hours — Hours of play, aud mirth, and song, With the friends we've loved so long. And when past is winter's rain, With the sun we'll come again. Dear Dot, — I go to school, and am in the Second Standard. We have two cows milking. Their names are Flossy and Bessie. We have three horses. Their names are Tom, Kate, and Bob. I have a pretty grey-and-white kitten. Will you please give me a name for her. — Yours truly, Bikdie Carey (aged 10 years). Lower Harbour, July 21. [Call the kitten Tibby.— Dot.] Dear Dot, — The roads are very muddy going to school just now. I have a friend named Annie Abernethy. We are milkiug 10 cow 3 just now. I have a grey kitten. Please give me a name for it. — Yours truly, Susan Dow. Lower Harbour, July 20. [Call the kitten Tab.— Dot.] Dkab Dot, — I had a week's' holiday, and I would have enjoyed myself much better if it had been fine weather. We had some snow on Tuesday, and it was very cold. I had to stay inside and play with my doll and toys. I have about a mile and a-half to go to school. Miss Heckler is my teacher, and I like her very much. — Yours truly, Theresa Johnson (aged seven years). Waitahuna Gully, July 19. Dear Dot, — We had a week's holiday, and I would like another. We have gob two cows, and their names are Daisy and Lily. We only milk one of them now. We got our photos taken at school, and we are going to get them to-morrow. lam in the Second Standard at school.— Yours truly, Fred. Johnson. Waitahuna Gully, July 18. Dbar Dot, — I live at Waitahuna Gully, and like living here very much. I am not in any standard at school yet. We have about a mile and half to walk every day. We have two cows, and their names are Beauty and Rosie. I have two brothers and one sister, their names are Gertie, Hans, and lan. — Yours truly, Susan Cooper. Dear Dot, — Our school had a week's holiday, and I enjoyed myself very much, and -I hope we shall get another week soon. The examination will be hero soon, aud I hope that I shall pass, for my teacher would be pleased. I like my teacher very much, for she is very kind to us. I wish it would snow, for we like snowballiug better than hunting rabbits. My brother aud I were out hunting last week, and we caught some big rabbits. We have two nice cats, but one of them got her leg caught iv a rabbit trap, which hurt it very much, aud made it sore for a week or so. Dear Dot, are there many rabbits down where you live ? There are plenty up here, but they all run into the gorse, and I would like a little terrier to hunt them out. The rabbitskins are a good price now, and lam saving up all mine. 1 shall sell them when I get a good many. — Yours truly, Robert Kofoed. Waitahuna Gully, July 19. [Well, no, Robert, rabbits have not much of a chance in or near town. There arc a few at the Northern Cemetery and at the waterworks, but there are too many people about to allow them to increase much. — Dot.] Dkak Dot, — I live at South Hillcnd. I was home for a week from school with a bad cold. We live near a big bush. There is a sawmill working in it, and they trolly the timber three miles to the timber yards, and also cross the New River. Sly brother Alick has a little heifer calf. Will you please give me a name for it. — Yours truly, Jane M'Murtrih. South Hillend, July 22. • [Call the calf Beauty.— Dot.] Dear Dot, — We have been having our holidays, and lam going to school on Monday. I have a doll which says mama and papa. Would you please give me a name for it. — Yours truly, Mary E. Reat (aged 74 years). Owake Flat, July 23. [Call the doll Queenie. — Dot.] Dear Dot, — I have a calf, and his name is Curly. We have had a fortnight's holidays, which we enjoyed very much. But we have now to work very hard for the cxaniination. We have a new calf, and his name is Robin. My brother hurt himself with the gun. — Yours truly, Robert G. M'Nair. Duntroon, July 24-. Dkar Dot, — I have been very ill with influenza. I went down to Papakaio for a few da) s. My cat has three kittens ; and a friend of ours has a pet ewe, and she has twin lambs. We are ha%'ing such a nice mild winter up here. My brother had a slight accident with our father's gun. He was trying to shoot a seagull, aud held the gun too near his face, and it kicked back and cut his cheek to the bone. We covered it up with sticking plaster, and it is nearly all right again. I have a little doll. Her name is Tiny. We have three little calves. Their names are Curly, Charlie, and Robin. Our goldfinch was nearly killed by the cat, who knocked down the cage and took him out, and pulled the pretty feathers out of his wings. He is better now, and quite lively again. The cat tried to get at him twice afterwards. So we gave her away.— Your truly, Maggie M'Nair. Duutroon, July 24. Dk \r Dot, — I am a Monkey. My name is Brookes. I was born in Africa, aud when I was about four years old I was standing near a tree when a missionary came along. 1 did not see him till he was close to me. He then caught hold of me and said, "Good morning, have you used Peais' soap?" I said, "No; I represent two opposition houses — I am Brookes of the monkey brand." He then said, "Oh, you will do more business if you come with me." He took me to England, aud I was put in the Zoo, and afterwards sold to a menagerie, and I was taken to New Zealand with Bailey's circus. When I was in Duuedin I liked the Little Folks' column very much. I hope you use my soap, Dot. — Yours tiuly, Brookes. Dj:ar Dot, — Four of us go to school — two of my brothers and one sister and myself, but my little sister does not go just now, as the daj s are too wet. We have about three miles to walk every second day. We get the Witness every week, and I read the little folks' letters, and I like them very much. We are milking three cows just now. We have one calf. Will

you please give me a name for him. My brother can play the fiddle very nicely. I liked reading the letters from rats and cats and the Old Cracked Plate and other interesting letters. — Yours truly, Je&sik. [Call the calf Duke.— Dor.] Di:ak Dot, — I am a Cat, and my name is Petty. Do you know how I got that name, Dot ? I will tell you. The boys and girls used to hunt mo about till I got quite wild, and they gave me that name. One day my mother was up at the stable, and the dogs saw her, and they caught her and worried her. I have another little mate. Will you be kind enough to give her a name. — Yours truly, Petty. Mataura, July 22. [Call her Chummy. — Dot.] Dear Dot, — I live in Balclutha. I have two brothers and one sister. Their names are Archie, John, and Jean. It is very cold weather here. We have got no pets. We had a nice dog called Afton, but we lost it. I am leaning the violin, and I like it very much. — Yours truly, James A. Wilson (aged 9 years). Balclutha, July 2<k Deaii Dot, — I live at Halfmoon Bay. It is a rery pretty place. There are plenty of boaU here. Igo to school, and am in the Third Standard. Mr Peterson is our teacher, and I like him very much. There are two stores, a school, a church, and five boarding houses in Halfmoon Bay. The cutters come in here, and sometimes bring oysters. I read the little folks' letters, and I like them very much. I will write again and tell you more about our island home. — Yours truly, Norman Macrae (aged 10 years). Halfmoon Bay, Stewart Island, July 26. Dear Dot, — I am going to try in this letter to fell you something about Wangauui. The Wanganui river is considered' one of the finest in New Zealand. In fact I have heard it called the New Zealand Rhine ; but I do not know if it is as beautiful as the Rhine in Europe. A number of steamers and vessels of light draught come up the river to the town, a distance of about four miles. Three steamers — namely, the Wairere, Waitara, and the Mriutoa run up the river past here. The Wairere (which means flowing or rapid water) is a nice paddle steamer, and carries the mail every Tuesday up to Pipiriki, a distance of about 56 miles. She returns again on Wednesday. Sometimes, if there has been a lot of rain up country, we have floods in the river. Last year there was a very big one, and whole trees, canoes, haystacks, and things too numerous to mention were carried away out to sea. On one of the haystacks was sitting a large black pig. I think some of the Maoris got it oft' further down the river, and so saved it from one death just to meet another, I expect. A gentleman here took a sketch of the river at the time, and afterwards copied it in oils and gave it to my father, who had it framed, and

now it makes a very nice picture. Dear Dot, since I wrote you last I have been more than a month away from school. First I had diphtheria, and then we had our winter holidays, but now I am quite well again, and have started to go to school once more. We had a very sad wreck down at the heads on Sunday. A vessel called the Edith May was blown on the rocks, and the mate, a Mr Reynolds, was drowned. The captain and crew were saved with difficulty. Dear Dot, did you ever see the Edith May ? for I think the last time she came here she was from Duuedin. I must now stop, for I am afraid I have toade my letter too long. The next time I write I shall try to describe some of the scenery about here to you. — Youjrs truly, Willie Huntek. Eastown, July 26. [Thank you, Willie, for your very nice letter. I «m sure many of the little folks will envy you living near such a beautiful river as the Wanganui. It must be very nice amusement watching the river steamers passing, not to mention going for such pleasant excursions as that described by your sister. No, I never saw the Edith May, but probably many of the little folks who live down the harbour have done so. —Dot.] Dear Dot, — Thank you for the name you gave me for my doll. I had a doll called Rose in Oainaru, bub one day I fell down with her and hei head came off, and my brother Willie and I buried her under a big pear tree. Since I wrote my last letter to you my father got a nice little boat from Auckland and we went up the river in her as far as the Maori pah called Tamatis. We took lunch with us, and went on shore and gathered some sticks for a fire and had a fine picnic. The distance we went up was about 12 miles. We saw a lot of Maori women gathering wood in the bush and taking it across the rirer in canoes, and then carrying it in such big loads on their backs up to their whares. Dear Dot, my grandmother from the BlufE sent me such a pretty birthday book. If I brought it down with me when I come to Dunedin would you put your name in it for me. But mamma says perhaps we would not find you at home when we call, so if you would just give me the date of your birthday mamma would write it ia nicely for me. — Yours truly, Maggie Hunteh (aged 8 years). Eastown, July 24.

[Christmas Day is a nice day for a birthday, isn't it, Maggie ? Do you think your mamma will be content with that answer without the year? — Dot.]

Drut Dot, — I am an Old Nursery Guard Fender. lam 21 years old, and 20m high. I was made to order for a litlle boy called Willie, who would never keep away irom his mother's fires lam still in good ordi r and lepair, although I have been kept in use most of the time. I have been painted seveial times during these jears, which L.is always freshened me up. There are six other children besides Willy whom I have kept fiom burning themselves. 1 was made in Dunedin, and the iikia who made me still lives down North Duuedin

way. Sometimes when my mistress has friends calling on her they say, " What a splendid fender for keeping the children from the fire.'" My mistress answers, "Yes; that fender is a very «ld friend." lam very useful for grownup people even, as I keep the ladies' dresses from catching fire. I am fastened on to the mantelpiece by a little brass ring on each side. — Yours truly, An Old Fender. Dunedin, July 26. Dear Dot, — I am an Old Harmonium. I must be^fully 29 years old, at least I mean 29 years since my present master bought me. I have kept in tune very well all these years, and can when played properly give some very sweet music. I have for a companion a beautiful piano. We have occupied the same room some 15 years, and since then I have not been so much in request. Sometimes the little children try to play a tune, and one has to blow while the other plays. My master plays hymns from the " Church Praise," and they sound very sweet. The "Old hundredth" is my master's favourite. — Yours truly, An Old Harmonium. Dunedin, July 26. Dear Dot, — I go to school, and lam in the Seccnd Standard. I have three brothers and five sisters. We have three cows and three horses. They are all riding horses, and lof ton go for a ride. I had a white rabbit with pink eyes, but it got out of its box and ran away and got poisoned with poisoned oats, for my brother found it lying dead under a flax bush. — Yours truly, Nean Ferguson. Woodside, July 14. Dear Dot, — I am going to tell you about my flowers. I have a garden, but my flowers are not growing very well, except the daisies. When spring comes the other flowers will begin to look nice too. The farmers are ploughing up the fields, and they look so bare. But when the crops begin to grow they will look nice and green. — Yours truly, Willie M'Kxlvey. Woodside, July 14. Dkah Dor, — We are having very cold weather here just now. We had a little snow lately, but it did not last long. I have two brothers and one sister, and their names are Thomas, Arthur, and Anne. We have two calves named Lily and Minnie. . I have a doll. Will you please give me a name for it. We have two cats called Tipsy and Darkie. I go to school, and I am in the Fourth Standard. Our teacher is Mr M'Neil, and I like him very much. — Yours truly, Mary Ord. Lady Barkly, July 19. [Call the doll Violet.— Dot.] Dear Dot, — As many clocks and things are writing to you, I thought I would write you a letter. I have heard people say that I am about 100 years old. lam a Large Hall Clock that came from Scotland about 23 years ago. Many years before I came to New Zealand a , lady bought me, and I have been in the family | ever since. I had a long journey across the i sea, hadn't I ? When I came to New Zealand

first I lived at East Taieri. After a while my owner took me to live at Knapdale. I have lived here ever since. lam about 6ft high, and my case is made of mahogany wood. I must say good-night now, Dot. — Yours truly, An Old Clock.

Chatton, July 28.

Dear Dot, — I live at a place called Fernhill. I go to school nearly every day, and I like going, because I learn to do sums, to read, to write, and a great many other things. I like reading books, and some have nice stories in them. I am in the Second Standard. I have two sisters and three brothers. The roads are very muddy, and the weather has been very bad, but the sun is shining to-day. — Yours truly, Madeline Dow.

Woodside July 14-. Dear Dot, — I am a Cat, and my name is Topsy. I have white paws, and lam all black except my paws. I catch mice and rats and birds. Do you think it is very cruel to catch birds ? I like mice and birds to eat, but I do not care for rats. I catch rats and kill them, but Ido not eat them. lam getting pretty old now I once had four kittens, but they were all drowned except one, and it got poisoned and died. My paw is tired writing, so I must

now close. — Yours tiuly,

Invercargill, July 29. [Well, I suppose it really isn't cruel for a cat to catch birds, as Nature teaches her to do so, but ib would be a good thing if cats knew which birds to catch and which to leave alone. I don't think any one would object to a cat catching au occasional sparrow — though I have no doubt the sparrow would think it very wrong of her to do so — but everyone is sorry when puss catches a very pretty and harmless singing bird.— Dot.]

Dear Dot, — I live at Roxburgh, and I go to school every day. The weather here has been pretty cold during the last few mornings and nights. Our footballers had a game with Alexandra last week, which resulted in a draw. I can tell you, Dot, I was a little excited during the game, especially when Roxburgh nearly scored. The Roxburgh team are going (so I am told) down country to play Lawrence, Milton, and Balclutha, but 1 am doubtful if they will be successful. What do you think, Dot? I think I will now be saying good-bye, as I want to do my home work. — Yourd truly, . Roxburgh, July 29 Suioojbov.

[I am afraid Dot's views on football vruuld not carry much weight even if she gave them. I will coutent myself with recommending tho Roxburgh boys to go with, the intention of doiug their best, and then even if they arc defeated they will uol be disgi-.tceil. Let- tbeui watch carefully the play of their opponent*, an 1 endeavour to improve tkoir ownwhcits they find by comparison that it i-> deficient. Th-ywill thus ha.\ea belter chance of success next year. —Dor.]

Dr.vu Dor, — I am a Monkey, and my name is Jccimic. I am chained to a pole near the fence, and the children throw stones ab

me sometimes, and at other times give me nuts. I am nearly 10 years old, so you must excuse me for my bad writing. One fine day my mistress took me to the bush, she held me by a chain round my neck, and I bit her hand because she would not let me away. Dou'b you think it was very cruel. I am very sleepy, bo good-bye now. — Yours truly, A Monkey. Invercargill, July 29. [I am not very sure whether Mrs Monkey means me to say it was cruel of her mistress not to let her go or cruel of her biting her mistress. If the latter I say yes, because her mistress knew what was good for her better than she did herself. Poor Mrs Monkey would have soon been a very quiet monkey if left to herself in a New Zealand bush, where Nature has made no provision for supplying her with either food or warmth. Where she comes from the woods are full of nuts and kernels of various kinds, and the climate is warm, but New Zealand bush is not adapted for monkeys, and has no nuts, while the climate is not warm enough for them to live in a state of nature. — Dot.] LITTLE FOLKS' RIDDLES Gl2. By Old Jacko :— (1) What is the difference between " fish alive " and "live fish"? (2) How do you make a Venetian blind ? 613. By Katie D. Scstndrett : — If a house fell on the tree, what would the tree say ? ANSWERS TO THE LAST TWO WEEK'S RIDDLES. 603. By a Wedding Ring :— One is hard to get down, and the other is hard to get up. 604. By Agnes, Mary, and Annie : — Eve. 605. By Norah Hunt, Pomahaka :— A cat looking in. 606. By Ivy Bowden :— l, The letter s— thus, ix, six ; 2, Because we cannot get on (o n) without them. 607. A riddle from the Ould Hin :— Whin they arc made into little Pats. COB. By Phyllis Hatchings, Balclutha : — Frozen mutton keeps for a time, and a watch keeps the time. 60S). By Lottie Andrews : — A looking-glass. (JlO. By Mary H. Carnie, Duuedin : — A secret. OIL By ({ en tic Breeze :— (1) Because it stands over 6ft without shoes or stockings. (2) Expediency. Xpd n c. CORRECT ANSWERS. Harold Garland, 601 (2), 602.