LETTERS FROM LITTLE FOLKS.

Otago Witness, Issue 2010, 1 September 1892, Page 40

LETTERS FROM LITTLE FOLKS.

Dear Dot, — I am not an animal of any sorb, bub only an Old Tin Teapot. I think I was born in a tinsmith's shop, but I'm not quite certain, as it's a long time since. Anyhow, I was bought by a person and brought to this house, in which I have been ever since. I have made many a cup of tea, but I never make a«y now, I am sorry to say, as I have a small hole in my side, and they say I make the tea black. Dear Dot, don't you think it unkind of them to say so ? I suppose they think I can't hear what they say, but they are mistaken again. I am kept on the mantelpiece, and there I can see everything that goes on in the kitchen. They get the Witness here every week, and I get if; when no one is in, .but I only read the letters. I hope you will print this, as I would like tosee it in print. I cannot find the other ink as it is in another room, so you must excuse me writing in red, lam writing this .with my spout, so « what do you • think of my writing ? This is not a good pen, and I have never written anything before, |am getting tired now, but I must ask

another question. Are you a man or a woman ? "Some say you are a man, and just call yourself Dot. Excuse me if I am not polite. — Yours truly, An Old Teapot. Country, August 24-. [Don't take any notice of what some people say about Dot. She doesn't mind a bit, and I am sure the little folks know perfectly well that a man would not take so much interesb in them as Dot does. A teapot spout is certainly a better thing to hold a pen with than the pedal of a piano, and Old Teapot has succeeded in writing very nicely, notwithstanding the red iuk. I wonder if it fixed the paper on to the wall when ib was writing, or whether someone held the whole teapot and guided the pen i How do the little folks think it managed ?— Dot.]

Dear Dot,— l am a Pincushion. I don't think you have ever had a letter from one of my kind before. lam made of plush and have got white beads all round me and a white "star in the centre. I think lam pretty good looking, for when people see me they say, " What a pretty pincußhion ! " so you see ib makes me vain. lam very ill used, as lam usually full of pins and needles. Dear Dot, how would you like anybody to stick pins and needles into you. I guess you would yell, bub. you see I can't yell, so I have to bear it with as much patience as I can. I like reading the little folks' letters, for you must not think that because I am only a pincushion I don't know anything. You see by my letter that I can write, and don't you think I can do it pretty well too, considering I have never been to school ? The dressmaker was here not long ago, and I can tell you I had a pretty lively time of it, and by tho time she went away I was quite worn out, but as I "am nearly recovered now, I thought I would take up some of my .spare time in writing you a letter. I live in a bedroom nearly all the time, so I haven't seen much of the world to tell you about. My greatest friend is a looking-glass, and we two wile away many a tedious hour in telling stories to each other. I will aßk her to write you a letter soon, and as she has been longer in the world than I have she will most likely have more to tell you. I have no more to say just now, dear Dot. May I write again ? —Yours truly, Pincushion. Invercargill, August 22. [Yes, Miss Pincushion, as often as you please, j and I hope you will succeed in inducing your friend the Looking-glass to write also. You write a very nice letter indeed, and I do nob wonder at the little folks liking the letters from animals and things best, as they are always so fresh, while those from the little folks themselves are mostly copied from ■ each other. — Dot.] Dear Dot,— l am a Black Cat. I livo at the Bluff, and my name is Jet. I have two daughters, and they live up the country.- I of ton hear from them. When I hear from them again I will try to persuade them to write to you also. Dear Dot-, do you think Jet is a pretty name ? My 'mother was caught in a trap and killed. She used to bring me rabbits, mice, rats, and birds, bub now I have to get them myself. I must say good-bye, as I see a sparrow sitting on tho fence, and I want to catch him for my supper.— Yours truly,

Bluff, August 23.

[Jet has no pity for the sparrow, and I suppose the rabbiter had no pity for Jet's mother, and to go a step further, the sparrow had no pity for the worms on which it breakfasted, and so the world goes on— the stronger always preying on the weaker. Yes, Jet, I think your name a very good one, and I am quite anxious to hear from your sisters to learn their names. — Dot.l

$ Dear Dot,— As I see my friend the Blackbird wrote to you last week, I thought I •would write also. lam a Sparrow. I live in a . neat on a branch of an ironwoodtree. My nest is made of leaves lined with feathers. I live on worms and seeds, and farmers think me veiy destructive, as I destroy the crops. I lay five wee eggß. They are pretty cream coloured, with brown spots on them. Cruel little boys often destroy my nest and take away my eggs. Do you not think they are very wicked ? lam not an extravagant bird in my dress, as my coat is of plain brown feathers. I once had a very narrow escape of my life. I will tell you about ib if it will interest the little folks. One raomiug while out looking for some food I 9ew into a garden where some tempting seeds had been sown. The gardener when planting the soeds, had also put a branch with some bird lime on it, but as he had made the lime too thin I got away with the loss of a few feathers. So you 6ee lam very lucky. We have a singing class here, and a lot of us birds attend it. Mr Robin teaches' it. He is a very good songster. I had three little sparrows, bub they have all grown up and left me. Dear Dot, you must excuse this letter being in two coloured ink.B, as I had to make the first out of the sap of an ironwood tree, and as it gob cut down I had to make the next out of a pine tree. Excuse also bad writing, as it had to be done with a sharpened stick. I will write again (that is if you will let me) and tell you about the bush I live in. I must now conclude, as I see my enemy the cat is coming. — Yours in great haste, Brown Coat (aged 2 years). Greenbush, Bluff, August 8. [Sure enough the letter is in two inks, but they look too good to have been made in the way Brown Coat describes. The excuses for supposed bad writing are, I am afraid, only made to get a compliment, and I must say that for a two-year-old sparrow writing with a stick and the sap of trees the writing is excellent. I hope Brown Coat will write and tell us all about the bush he lives in.— Dot.]

Dear Dot, — I live near the Akatore Creek. It is such a pretty place in the summer. There are trees and ferns on the banks, and when the water is clear we can sometimes see little flounders swimming about. Johnnie and I sometimes wade in the creek. One day we were down among the rushes and we heard something moaning, and we looked and found that it was a wounded hare. I caught it, and it had a broken leg. I sometimes go down to the sea and get shells, and watch the crabs crawling about. I will stop now, dear Dot. — Yours truly, Jkanie Russell (aged 7£ years). Taieri Beacb, August 20, ' [Poor wounded hare ! You have not told us what you did with it, Jeanie. I wonder if it was a dog or a boy with a gun who had broken its leg. It must have been very weak to let you catch it.— Dot.]

Dear Dot,— As it looked like rain this morning my mother would not let us goto school. I have three sisters and two brothers. Their names are Clara, Bessie, Annie, Tom, and Charley. Dear Dot, I have a calf. Will you please give me a name for him. He is red and white. My sister Amie and my brother Charley go to school with me. There are five scholars in my class at school— the First Standard. We have to walk four miles to school. I was staying with a friend up at Gibbston for a while but lam at home again now. We take our lunch to school, and the master allows us to boil a billy of water and make tea. It is such fun We each take a cup op a mug to drink

out of. My grandfather works beside the river for gold. He washes the gold in a cradle. Sometimes us children go down and wash gold in a dish. We don't get much, because it is very hard to find. The name of the river is the Kawarau. There are eels and trout in it. Good-bye, dear Dot. — Yours truly, Elsinore Kathleen Johnston (aged 9 years). Victoria Bridge, August 18. [Call the calf Victor.— Dot.] Dear Dot,— l am away from school at present, as I have a cold and a sore throat. I have a nice flower garden, and the primroses, violets, and jonquils are in bloom. The goai -trees are in bloom just now. My brothers bring me bunches of the blossom home from the hills. I, have a nice little pet brother. His name is Andrew. He is 11 months old, and he can walk about. He is such a clever little fellow. My brother Peter got a nice box of marbles which contained 100. My sister and I have such nice games with him. Have you ever any holidays, Dot. If you have we shall be glad to see you up here. There are plenty of steam dredges for you to see, and plenty of nice places to go and get ferns and wild flowers, and to see the little bunnies running about. So good-bye, Dear Dot. — Yours truly, Effie Smith.

Island Block, August 19.

[Thank you, Effie, for your kind invitation. When the railway runs to Roxburgh I must try to get up and see the district where we get such fine fruit from.— Dot.]

Dear Dot, — I am a Maori Hen, and I live in the Waipori Bush. I find it hard to get enough to eat. I eat seeds, crumbs, and rabbits. One' day I went into a rabbit hole and a wild ferret was in it, and we had a great fight, but I had to run out pretty quick. One day when I was in search of food I got caught in a trap, and it was very soro, but a man let me go. One day a man came to the bush with a pack of dogs, and the dogs chased me everywhere. The man tried to shoot me, but I ran into a hole. He started to dig me out, but I ran out the other end and got away. I will have to watch myself just now, as I hear they are laying poison, bub it will soon be over. One day some boys came to the bush, and they saw me go into a bunch of fern, and they rolled a large stone over me ; they gave me a fearful fright. — Yours truly, Berwick, August 22. Maori Hen.

[Poor Macri Hen, you have many dangers to encounter, and I am afraid unless you become more suspicious and less curious than you are, ifc will fare ill with you. Between men, boys, dogs, ferrets, and poison your enemies are legion.— Dot.]

Dear Dot, — I go to school and am in the Second Standard. Miss ;M'Gregor is my teacher, and I. like her very much. I have three brothers and three sisters, and their names are" Patrick, tjohn, James, Catherine, Mary, and Annie. Patrick and Catherine come to school with me. We have two calves. Will

you please give me names for them ? We have two dogs whose names are.Scob and Clyde. We have three cats, and two of their names are Tom and Dolly. Will you please give me a name for the pbher one. — Yours truly, Bridget Kearney (aged 9 years). Derry farm, Eweburn, August 18. [Call the calves Fuschia and Briar and the cat Spider, — Dot<]

Dear Dot, — I have a nice little foal. She was in the garden to have a run. She had a halter on, and it got fast in some harrows, and she pulled them away, and she cut her hind legs with them. lam so sorry that she is hurt. I have four brothers and one sister. Their names are Harry, Dick, Roljey, Tom, and Ethel. My brother Rolley has a pup. Would you please give him a name/or it. We have a hen with 11 brown Leghorn "chickens. I have two dolls. Would you please give me names for them. — Yours truly, ' Nellie George". Berwick, August 23. " [Don is a very nice name for a dog. Call the dolls Hyacinth and Primrose. — Dot.] Dear Dot, — I am a Little Terrier. I live at Berwick, and I think it is a very nice place. I was taken away from my mother when- I was very young. My mate is one of my sisters, and her name is Flo. My mistress is very kind to us, and she feeds us on milk and meat 6very day. When I grow bigger I shall have to go and find food for myself, as my mistress cannot always keep me. — Yours truly. Little Terrier. Berwick, August 22. Dear Dot, — I am A Seagull. I live in the lake, aud I get a lot of fish. I will be very glad when there are lots of little lamb 3, for 1 kill a great many of them. Last year when I was eating a lamb a man came along to shoot me, but I flew away. I find ib very hard to get food just now. One day "when I was up in the Waipori Bush I chased a Maori hen, bub ib escaped. That very same day I was caught by j my 'toe in a trap which was set for me, but I escaped by leaving my toe in the trap. One day when I was flying over the bush I saw a lot of men and children going to the bush. And when they went away I went to see what they had done, and I found a portrait, and I thought I would send it to you. I must stop, as my foot is so sore. — Yours truly,

Seagull.

Berwick, August 22.

[The portrait is the work of an amateur, and a very raw one at that. There is a man smoking a pipe in the foreground, a clump of trees behind him, while in front is an immense sun, occupying a third of the picture. Perhaps ib is some of Seagull's own work, but he does not care about admitting ijj. — Dot.]

Dear Dot, — I am a Dancing Shoe. Last week I was bought from the City Boot Palace. A gentleman bought me, and presented me to a oung lady. Unfortunately for me this lady had a very large foot, and I was at least two sizes too small for her. Her foot was squeezed into me, and the pain was dreadful for us both. At length she took mo off a while to rest her

foot. Then she put me on, and began to dance. Bub she had not danced long before she went out again and took me off, because she was so miserable. I am quite sure she was as unhappy as I was. But after a while she took me off never to put me on her foot again. Then I was wrapped up in paper and given back to the gentleman who carried me home. I was never worn again, so I lay with the old shoes. Dear Dot, please remind people never to wear boots too small for them, as it does the boot as great an injury as the person herself or himself. I think I have written you a long enough letter from my dark and dismal den. So good-bye, Dob.— Yours truly, Dancing Shoe (age about a fortnight). Otautau, Southland, August 16. [There is a lesson for vain young people who try to believe their feet are less than they really are. They never thought before that the poor shoe felt the pinch as well as their feet, and I hope the knowledge gained from Dancing Shoe will make them more considerate n future. Dot.]

Dear Dot, — I live in Ida Valley. Igo to school, and am in the Fifth Standard. We had an Arbor Day here, and I enjoyed myself • v^ry much. I planted two trees, and all the resb of the scholars did the same. We had races, and a children's dance in the evening. The rest of night was taken up with other dances.— Yours truly, ALLEN DARLINGTON. Ida Valley, August 19. Dear Dot, — We have had our winter holidays, and are going to school again. Miss Campbell is our teacher, and she is very kind to usi I had a nice cat, but she got poisoned. Do you think that Topsy would be'a nice name for a kitten ? I have a little bull calf, and father has a little heifer. Please will yoa give me a name for them. Father has five horses, and he is ploughing with three of thorn just vow. — Yours truly, CHARLOTTE DEADER. Eweburn, August 16. [Call them Punch and Judy. — Dot.] Dear Dot,— l read the little folk's' letters every week, and I must say I like the animals' letters the best. Igo to the Waipiata School. Miss Campbell is my teacher, and I like her very much. I have two calves. Will you please give me names for them both. — Yours truly, Christina. Hamilton Bridge, August 23. [Divide your own name, and call them Chris and Tina.— Dot.] Dear Dot, — I am a Pig. I live in the Waipori Bush, and I find it very hard to get food. One day I was very hungry, and I chased a woodhen. It ran into a rabbit hole, and I could not calch it. I have very large tusks, and one day some men came to shoot me, and I ripped one of them. — Yours truly, i Old Pig. | Waipori Bush, August 23. a [Old Pig is certainly an uncomfortable old

party, and I should not care about meeting him either in Waipori or any other bush. However, I suppose we cannot blame him for hurting the man, as he did it self-defence, and I suppose any of us would do our best to avoid "being killed.— Dot.]

Dear Dot,— l am A Young Starling. I live in a nice warm nest up in a blue gum tree. I have four mates in the nest wibh me. Bly mother flies away sometimes, and stays away a good while. One day I thought my mother was lost. She flew away to a church, aud stayed there singing for a long time. When she came back she brought plenty of food. One day a very sad thing happened to one of my mates. He fell out of the nest, and hit his head on a branch, and a while after he died. I hope I shall never do the same, bo no more, dear Dot.— Yours truly, Starling. Taieri Beach, August 11. Dear Dot,— This is the first time I have written to you. I go to school, aud am in the Third Primer. My teacher is Mr Mason, aud I like him very much. I have two brothers and one sister. Their names are Winifred, Robert, and Daniel. Daniel is the baby, and I like him very much. Dear Dot, will you please give me a name for a little play-dog.— Yours truly, Anastasia Bretherton (aged 6£- years). Burn Cottage, August 26. [Call the dog Carlo.— Dot.] Dear Dot, — This is the first letter I have written. I have four brothers and three sisters. Four of us are going to school. Their names are Jane, Anuie, John, and myself. We have a football club at school. We are going to play a match with Coal Creek on Saturday if the weather is fine. My father and I were planting early potatoes when I came home irom school this evening. We have a cow named Spot; she gives four quarts of milk. We have four horses. Their names are Duke, Romeo, Doan Swift, and Epicure. — Yours truly, George Alexander Gordon Roxburgh, August 24. (aged 11 years).

, Dear Dot,— We had an Arbor Day on August 4-. All of us planted a tree each, and we liked it very much. We have a lob of hens, and we geb 10 or 11 eggs every day. We have a dog named Sport, and we have a pigeon named Polly. I live at Gibb3ton, and I like it very much. May I write again ?— Yours truly, Willie Perriam (aged 8£ years). Gibbston, August 21. [Yes, Willie, but you must write with a pen and ink, not a pencil.— Dot.]

Dear Dot,— l am a Cat. My name is Tibby. lam one year old. I am black with white paws. I was caught in a trap, and my leg was sore for a while, but it soon got better. There are a lot of dogs here. We all started on to me and nearly killed me, but my mistress came out and stopped them. There is another cat here. Her name is Taipo. She is all black. Sometimes a little fox terrier comes here, and he growls at me, and then we have a row, and I give him a scratch, and he clears. My mis-

tress calls him Tip. He jumps through her arms, but I do not like him. There is a big garden here, and Taipb and I go for a walk among the flowers. There is also a river near here. I saw a letter from an old Scotch Thistle, so I thought I would write too. My mistress is teaching me to jump through her arms. I like jumping. My mistress gives me plenty of food to eat, and plenty of nice warm milk to drink, so I must be fat. I often get on to the garden wall and run along. I must say good-bye as I am getting cold. — Yours truly, Waihemo, August 23. Tibby.

■ Dear Dot, — I am an old Tortoise whom everybody laughs at for being so slow. My life has been full of ups and downs. Although I am so slow I generally manage to see most people out. There was that brood of young chickens. They- would chase each other for bits of meat, greedy little things they were, but cook soon made short work of them. Then there was Tom, who was a most dreadful tease. On a fine day when I would not be thinking of rain, I would see Tom's laughing face rise above the wall, and splash would come the water all over me. After a while Tom went to sea, where he was drowned. Then there was Spot, a kitten, which was a nice little thing, but a little too smarb. She went into the forest, where she met with a sad fate. This is all at present, for, like most old people, it makes a choking feeling rise in my throat when I think of my past sorrows. — Yours truly, An Old Tortoise (aged 40 years).

Otautau, August 16.

[Poor old Tortoise ! It is very sad ; but have you not had any family of your own that you should be so overcome with grief at the loss of shorter-lived animals than you^ are ?—? — Dot.]

Dear Dot, — I am a Horse, and my master is very good to me. My name is Tibby, and j my colour is a dark bay with a white spot on my brow. A young lady rode mo two miles last night, and on the way there was a horse lying dead. I was very frightened to pass, and the young lady thrashed me severely. I tried to throw her off, but I could not manage it, so I had to gallop the rest of the journey. — Yours truly, Tibbt. Berwick, August 22. [The young lady acted very inconsiderately. Instead of thrashing you she should hare petted you, and overcome your fears. I wonder how she would like being thrashed severely for hesitating to pass a cemetery on a dark night —that is, if she is timid, which, from the way she acted to you, I should say she is not, however. — Dot.]

Dear Dot, — We have had our examination, and I passed from the Second Standard into the Third. We had a week and three days' holidays after the examination, and I enjoyed myself very much. We have two guinea pigs now. My brother George was playing with one and it crept into his pocket. I think they are very shy little creatures. I like " The

Story of a Good Thought," and we all laughed when we read about the volunteer's coat being used to make the border of the rug. I always read the little folks' letters, aud am very pleased if there are any written by little girls I know. Ib has been very wet all day, and I did not go to school. There has been a great "deal of wet weather lately. We have not been able to weed our flower garden as the ground is so wet. My poor doll Lily has got her neck broken. One of my brothers did it when he was playing one day. I must say good-bye now.— Yours truly, Catherine G. Hallett (aged 10£ years). Waiakouati, August 24-. Dear D,ot, — I go to Gibbston school, and am- in tho First Standard. We had a magic lantern entertainment on Saturday, the 13th, and I enjoyed myself very well. I have three brothers and one sister. Their names are Willie, Fred, Harry, and Lottie. We have three cows, and their names are Snowy, Daisy, and Beauty. — Yours truly, May Pehriam (aged 7 years). Gibbston, August 2. Dear Dot,— l am an Old Clock. I have been in bhis house for 17 years, and I am likely to remain here for the rest of my life. lam a striking clock. Sometimes I striko wrong, and then my mistress makes me strike right, and I get so tired Almost everything has a trouble, so I will* tell you my trouble. One day a spring got broken in some way, and the clockmaker took me all to pieces. Bub I am quite happy now, as I am all right and going again. —Yours truly, Old Clock. Taieri Beach, August 22, Dear Dot, — I live at Longridge, and go to school at Balfour. lam in the Second Standard. Miss Baldy is my teacher, and I like her very much. She is teaching us to sew now. I was very ill this week but I am getting better now. Dear Dot, this is the first time I have written on paper. Do you think my writing is good. — Yours truly, Margaret Mary MuLauiN Longridge, August 19. (aged te years). [Yes, Margaret, ib is very good for your age. —Dot.]

Dear Dot,— Last time I wrote to you we were living at Wendonsido, but we are at Mandeville now. I like staying here better, a we are close to the railway, and I like to see the* trains. I had a ride in the train a few days ago, and I thought it grand. Igo to the Mandeville school. There are a lot ol scholars here — 53 altogether. Our teacher, Mr Miller, teaches singing, and I like it. We were exgroined two weeks ago, and I passed. So did toy brothers. Two of them are in the Sixth Standard, one in the Second, and I am in the Fourth. I got a nice prize for the highest points in the Third Standard.— Yours truly, S. M. B. (aged 8 years).

Mandeville, August 20.