OUR LITTLE FOLKS.

Otago Witness, Issue 2057, 27 July 1893, Page 45

OUR LITTLE FOLKS.

Bx Dw.

D«t will b. rttuU to nottvf ikori Utttri frun JarenlU nn*fMßdeuU on »nr mttten of lnUrert {* themielYU— ihort itoilM #? not tnimtli. diuarlptloni of their faroarite tojri, thtir ptrilM, taiiisnienti, to. Th. letter! to be written by U< aUMrattt*. id re md s4dr*iied " D*i, or. of the Bdltor," ut (• t* »•*• uthta v at ph« atr*Md w " oh utu. r«uu," PRINCE CHIP; AND HIS ADVENTUREB IN SEARCH OE THE STOLEN PRINCESS AND THE INVISIBLE CROWN. By Harry How, ik thb Million. Chapter 11. Their consultation was of .the briefest description. The astronomer trembled. 4He told the Prince of all that he must pass through ere he could either reach the invisible crown or the Princess ; of those terrible paths beneath the ocean ; the giant monsters that he must needs fight and conquer ; and of. the fascinating mermaids who would only use their wiles and artifices to lure him on to destruction. He, the Prince, must first find out where the Princess had been captured — the very^spot in' the ocean where the mermaids came and carried her off — a spot tradition said was guarded by a terrible monster— the Talking Fish— the playful inclination of whose tail was sufficient to keep any enemy more than half a mile fromhis reach. The Court Astronomer pleaded in vain. " Nothing," said the young Prince decisively, " shall turn me now. My mind is made up. I have the sword my godmother gave me.' Have you not heard that none can ever stand against its magic tip P I have had no chance of trying the blade yet, for, thanks to thy wisdom, our, Royal Court Astronomer, the country has been free from all battles. Nay, nay ; I go, and in ten 'minutes now. See, the candle wants teD minutes to born to the hour of midnight. As the wick reaches that hour I bid good-bye to Eugland until I can return with my promise fulfilled— the country's crown and the country's Queen." '■ . Protestation and pleadings were of no avail. The two old servants of the court were dumbfounded with surprise. Lower and lower burnt the wick of the candle, until its flickering light said " 12 o'clock." Prince Chip had been thoughtfully paoing the marble court, ever and anon glanoing impatiently at the flame. \ "Time!'? he cried. "Good night; my. worthy friendß. Live till we meet again. I have made the people a promise. No Prince of our, royal house was yet known to pledge his, word and not redeem it. Give me thy hands,, my friends and kindly advisers. May I grip ; these two hands again in a triumphant welcome home before many months are passed. May', our shores be safe and our people prosper.' Farewell— farewell.'' . The Prince had gone. .On, on he went, until he reached the great; pine forest— many, many miles from the seashore. The night was dark and the wind! whistled and shrieked through the trees asthough to tell the traveller of the dangers that were before him. The clouds were unpierceable ', and leaden overhead, looking as though they : wanted to pour down thunderbolts and distribute lightning with a liberal hand. It was, as dark a» the contents of a barrel of pitch, but our young Prince pressed forward. He ; held his sword' out in front of him, and the; brilliancy of its wonderful blade gave forth ai glistening light that, made the path before him * clear and plain. What was that? ' It sounded just like a whistle. ' It couldn't, be a bird— they saved their sweet notes for sunrise, and not for such a night as this. T-whit-t-whit-s-t-whit! ' ' : It seemed to whistle " Come on— come on— come on!" ' > " Evidently not the only traveller in the forest," said the Prince. " Well, we'll find out who he is, or what it' is." T-whit— t-whit— t-whit— t-t-t-whit. Chip turned .his blade , two and fro as the whistle came nearer. Just at that moment he caught the steel* against the trunk of a great oak tree. "I beg your pardon," said a squeaky little voice. ' •* Chip flashed his blade in the direction from whence the voice came 1 . . ~ " I repeat, I beg your pardon," said the same tiny voice a trifle more derisive than before. The welcome light from the sword revealed to our royal traveller's gaze a sight that caused him to burst into an .uncontrollable fit of laughter. It was the funniest little fellow he had ever seen, who had' evidently — and at that time of night too— been engaged in catting into the bark of the majestic oak either his own initials or the initials of his sweetheart, for he held in his hand a pocket-knife, which would just about measure half a pin's length. , "You might pick me up— your big enough," said the little fellow. Chip just managed to find him. He was the smallest little man ever s*een ; so small that Chip with ease sat him cross-legged on • the hilt of his sword. His head was abnormally, big— excessive brain power; his body remarkably small in comparison — want of exerciss, and possibly a dinner. You could have wrapped him in yourpocket-handkerohief, put him in your pocket, and if he would only nave kept quiet nobody would have been any the wiser. Bat, bless you, this little fellow could never have kept still. He was never made to remain stationary for* a second. Oh dear no! He was— well,' a here-there-and-everywhere-and-aU-at-the-same-timey.oungman. His eyes, like diamonds, sparkled, and his little pug nose turned up quito~#erenely >> whilst the corners of. his month were always twirled in one perpetual smile. He simply looked up at Prince Chip and laughed— such a laugh, that when Chip burst out into a roar of hilarity the little man looked up and said : "Ah, I 'thought we should .have some thunder." • . ' !

' " And who are you ? " asked Chip. "Who 1 am 7P" said our midget friend. "I'm little Nineteen Hundred and Ninetytwo." " Curious name," remarked Chip. "If s not the name— it's the, man who owns it," came the answer. "I've got to grow. I'm Nineteen Hundred and Ninety-two, waiting to take my turn to drop into -the calendar, don't you see P Oh, I've got many hundreds of years to wait yet before it's my time. But, oh ! won't I surprise 'em all when I' do appear on the-soene. 'Theylittle know what I've got in Store for 'era. Ha ! 'ha ! ha ! ; He ! he ! he 1 " 1 "What have you- in store for them?' naturally asked Chip. 1 " «' You won't. let it go any further if I tell you, will you, in case some other fellow might oome along and steal my ideas P " Chip promised seoreoy. .'.,... Little- Nineteen Hundred and Ninety-two got off from Chip's aword, olimbed up the buttons of his velvet tunic one by one, jumped on to his shoulder, coughed, and appeared to look round quite anxiously td make quite sure that nobody was listening, and whispered the word; ' " Inventions ! "

' s He turned to his companion. ■ • " Didn't take long,did it P" said the Midget; "That's the shock system. You merely call into action every nerve and muscle of your body, pull yourself together, as it were, and with a supreme effort and determined desperation say, as though your very life depended upon.it— .'.Seaside l' - Then you're there! That's how strong-minded people will travel when I catch up with the flowing tide ! " Prince Chip- almost forgot the little man. He had not the slightest curiosity— which would have been, perfectly pardonable under the circumstances — to inquire how many miles they had accomplished in their rapid flight. He was there by the seaside dreaming. As far as the eye could see the great jagged rocks lined the shore, standing there in all their solemn grandeur, making a weird and impressive line of Nature's' fortifications as, .the moon— which had now risen — singled -them out And shone upon them. No sign of living humanity was apparent, and when a company of seagulls suddenly seemed to rise f?6m their momentary slumbers amongst the crevices of the rooks, and flap their white wings in unison as they sped across tha face of the waters, the Prince was glad. They were almost as companions to him at this moment. He would that they had still continued amongst the rocks, for the whole place was a wilderness of water. Then he comforted himself. Surely good fortune, such as he had never hoped for, had served him so far ; but how much more would it befriend him? For a moment — and only a moment —he remained anxious. Such sudden luck as he had had — nay, was still enjoying, for the very personification of the mystery surrounding the horseshoe was at that moment perched on his shoulder, sitting there as 'silent as all about him. ' Then, with Blow and measured tread, he walked along the sands and over the stones and boulders covered with seaweed and scattered foliage of the ocean as though looking for footsteps which the tide had washed away many years ago. With his eyes still gazing upon the beach, he travelled along for more than a mile, little Nineteen Hundred and Ninety-two never for a moment disturbing him.

Suddenly, and with a shout of joy, the Prince stopped. He (was just creeping round a great piece of rock which had displaced itself, when ,he caught sight of that which afforded him a far more precious clue than all the imprints in the sand, of which he had in his anxiety almost hoped to find a trace. He knelt to the ground and picked up— a shoe ! It was a dainty, embroidered shoe,' hemmed and stitched with gold thread on elegant tapestry. It was a girl's shoe, for it was ever so small, and looked as though it whispered of " a pretty foot." AUthe beams of the moon seamed to concentrate themselves upon that little^ embroidered shoe as though they found joy in the light they gave. Chip's face was shining, too, with happiness. /He laughed aloud, for he held in his very own hand that which oncebelonged to one for whom he was already yearning. He raised the slipper to' bis lips and' kissed it— he knew not why. As his lipfl .touoßtd the golden

with me he calls out f'Tom! Tom! Tom!" He sometimes smacks me, but I don't mind that much, as his little hands don't hurt me, but I object to his using his feet. What cat wouldn't ? I forgot to tell you at first that I was an old Tom Cat, and I suppose the first ■part of my letter will bewilder the little folks. I sometimes get scolded for not going out to/ catch rats and mice, but how can an old cat without teeth catch anything? I hope the little folks will not be cruel to cats (especially old cats), 46 wet don't like being ill-used any more than they do. ' 1 will say good-night now, as I am tired of writing.— Yours truly, An Old Tom Cat. Queensbown, July 10. [Even an old Tom Cat without teeth should not write on both sides of the paper, and if he repeats this offence I am afraid I shall not be able to put his letter in.— Dot.] Dbab Dot, — I am a Dog, and my name is Spot. I live with my master in a very nice place. Sly master's name is Thomas, and he is very kind to, me, for I have lived with him for many years'; Wt lam getting old now. My mistress is troubled with corns, and she wants to know could you give her a cure for them. I must now conclude, as I am going for a run with my master. — Yours truly, A Dog. Arrowtown, July 14-. [The only proper cure is to get .the bootmaker to make her boots wider. If the corns are between the toes, corn plasters give relief, but they are no good for those on the outside of the toes.— Dot.] Dear Dot,— We are having our midwinter holidays just now. Igo to the Girls' High School, and I like it very much. Miss Alves is \ my teacher. Nearly all the girls had the measles in my class, but I did not take them. I think it was because I wore a oamphor bag. We broke up in the afternoon, and Mr Wilson, our rector, gave us afternoon tea. After tea we had recitations, music, and dancing. I think it was very kind of Mr Wilson, Before I went to the Qirls' High School I went to Mrs Cotton's. She was very kind to me, and I liked her very much.— Yours truly, Muriel Adams (aged 7s). Roslyn, July 20. Dear Dot,— l live at Taieri Beach, and I go to the Taieri Beach School. Oar teacher is Mr Hilgendorf. There have not been many at school lately, because of the amount of sickness prevalent ; but a good many are going now. Dear Dot, I have a doll; will you please give me a name for it. There is a Debating Society here every Wednesday night, and a social every fortnight. There are a great many members in the society. The Bocials are held in the school. -Yours truly, Violet. Taieri Beach, July 17. [Your own name being Violet, I think dolly might very well be call Ruby.— Dot. ]^ ' Dbab Dot,— lt is i ,loi?g .time since ; I wrote to you, but I am going/to write again. I take great interest in the Ljftle Folks' column. Have you ever been dbwa s h«eP ' In the sum- <

hardly describe it. It is a light grey, and my fur is very sof t v I have a very nice voice, bat I can only sing one song ; would you please tell -me of any other. I lire on bir,ds, meat, mice, and plenty of new milk ; and I must not forget to tell you that I get porridge, and it is very good for me, and I grow very fat on it. Sailor is writing to .you. He/is a' friend.'of "mine, although- he is only a dog.' It is very 1 cold here just now. Have you ever been up this far ? If you ever come you must call on me, and I will give you some new milk. , T-mustcloseJfipw, as Sailor is waiting- for my pen, although it is only a piece of burned stick. — Yours truly, Macraes, July 19. Jerry. [Really, cats and dogs have not only become very accomplished lately, but they are also* becoming very hospitable. . Fancy Dot, 'visiting, a soft-furred grey cat of the name of Jerry, and getting some milk from hint! - The' printer's' imp, who has just come "down for' •• copy"and is looking over my shoulder, 1 says " Oh, Jerryusalem!" but that is not only a bad pun, hpt it is also vulgar, and Ihave repressed him in- a manner in which he 1 - deserved; I can only recommend the musical and hospitable Jerry to be content with the one song. The -piper who played " Over the hills, and far, away ". was quite content with one, and J[ can't see why a cat should not be also. — Dot.] - Dear Dot,— l saw a mate of mine writing to you some time ago, so I' thought I would write too. lam a Dog, and my name is Sailor i so if any of thejittle folks aßk you for a name for their dog, as I hear thejr of^en'do, ypu may give them mine, for I think it is such a nice one. lam now lOyears old, sol can scarcely remember when I was a pup: My colour is black and tan, and I have got' nice browri eyes. Macraes is my native home, and it -is very cold and frosty at nights ; but I don't mind that as I am allowed to stay inside all night.-, Have you ever been up at Macraes,? If you ever come, mind and call in and see'me. I' don't do much work now, and I do less writing. It is nearly time to go to sleep now, So I must' say good-night. — Yours truly, - • ». Sailor; Maoraes, July 18. [Thank you, Sailor, for your magnanimity in offering me your name for other dogs. If Sprite had not been so suitable for W. Alexander's pup, I should have called him Sailor. However, we shall not have to wait long for an opportunity.— Dot. 1 ' Dear Dot, — I live, near Middlemarch. I have two brothers and four-sisters, and one of my sisters goes to aohool with me. We have a farm, and I go "rabbiting, and I' like it very much. Sometimes Igo to, a place called Mount Sfcoker ; it is a rough, wild' place., When we are rabbiting there we have to live in a tent. I find it very cold in the winter, but I enjoy the change. We have 15 horses, including draught horses and riding horses, and my father bought a little pony for my sister. Its name is Beauty. —Yours truly, Henry Pophaw. Riversdale, July 18. Dear Dot,— l am a Pet Parrot. I promised last week to write and let you know bow I got

—Yours truly, Riversdafe, July 18.

iiuch a good home. It is two years past since 1 got my present home. < This is the way it_ came about. My last mistress made up her mind to go to Melbourne, and she did not, wish to take me with- her, /; 'Sd I was sold to a gentleman, who gavß,jne\to his wife as a birthday present, and her' birthday being on April 3, they call that my birthday too ; so you see I am nearly an April fool. My mistress' once had a little kitten, which used to* play with me, but it died, so I have no playmate now, and my mistress is afraid to get another for fear it would kill me. ' I think I will stop now as my foot is. sore. I will write again some futuretime and let you know how I am getting on. — Yours truly, - Billy, Leet street, Invercargill, July 18. Dear Dot, — I am only six years old^ so I can't write much. My brother Harold, my sister Irene, and I have had measles, but we are better now. I" have two dolls. One of our school teachers gave me one dressed in whjfce, and dada gave me the other. Shecanmove'her head, arms, and legs. Please give me names for them.— Yours truly, Nellie Goodwin. Palmerston, July 15. * . [Call them Princess and Duchess.— Dot.] . Dear Dot, — I am nine years old. My birth-, day was on the 4th of this month. I got five presents. We have a dog named Rosie. My brothers have a gun. They go out hunting, and ' sometimes Igo too. I have had measles, and have not been able to go lately. I have three' brothers and two sisters. My eldest brother has gone to South Australia for the good of his health.— Yours truly, Harold Goodwin.Palmerston, July 12. Dear Dot,— Nearly everybody has the measles in Oamaru just now. We have not got them yet, and I hope we shall escape.- I have a little fox terrier named Spot, and the other day he caught four rabbits. My brother has a little dog called Tiny, but he is no good, and he won't follow him when he goes rabbiting. ■ I am going for a long ride to-morrow, about 22 mile's. Dear Dot, I will be 10 years old' in August, and I hope to have a party, as it is on a Saturday. My brother Percy was 11 last month ; he got a. nice lot of presents. ■ Peroy rides to the High School every morning ; ; and yery likely I am going to the Girls' High . School next-year. — * Yours truly, i -Maudßubbury. > Fairfield, Oamaru,' July 19. Dear Dot,— l am in the Second Primer. 'I have a little dog ; would you please give me a name for it.' I have had the measles. Otir school is closed for five weeks. There are a lot of people sick here just now. — Yours truly, ' Dick Horn. ' Wyndham, July 19. ' . , [I was in hopes the next dog tp name would be a big one, as Sailor seems more 'fit for a big than a little dog; however, perhaps this little dog will grow' to be a big one, so Sailor must be his name,— Dot.] • ,~ *'', Dear Dot,— l send a story for the little folks. 'It is called ' " '. ' ' , ', y a mouse. ' . , Amouse who was very hungry) having,, beenin his hole for two days, had to go into .the fields to get food. ' When 'he was on'his way^ home, he was spied by a cat; The cat ran after v the mouse, but he fortunately did not catch'him. A second time the mouse went into' the fields to get food. A cat was lying in wait for' him, but the mouse saw the cat and did not go near, so the cat thought the mouse was very sly.' ° On the mouse's way to his hole, however, he was spied by the pat, who ran after him and caughb him. When the cat was playing with the mouse he fortunately got away, and ran as fast as he could to his hole and got in. . The mouse was yery tired, and did not go out for two days more, and when he did venture out he was very sly, and took care not, to' go near 4 cat. He was, however, spied by ah&wk/who was sitting' on the end of a post. , The hawk darted at him,, but the mouse ran away,fn^Mihole v Bewenfc. out the next night, bub hQ'^j^npt'i come back.. He was caught in a mousej^p^thajt^tiad beeni. set for him, and a boy took him out, and killed him.' The life of mice is worse than that of" Bohoolboys, because they. 'pass their lives in. danger of cats and hawks. — Yours truly, George Scxm. r

Dear Dot,— l am an old Blue Cat,' and my name is Bluie. lan£goink-to- write yoi( the« history of my life/ I,4waß^b,orri, at Dnnrobini and was brought downVfo^is-idistrict. Aftera good few years my mistress-went away and left me. Another lady got m'ei and^onei Oday I' saw her putting spars on a box, jmdxlithoughfc. there was something going tp happetitonne y so I ran in belpw the house and would nqt.come» out when they called me ; and one^ day,,l saw/ her put all her things into a waggon and 'leave the house. I wandered about the schoolhouse, and the children gave me pieces of their dinner, About a year after my old mistress came back to see some of her old friends ; and.one night 'l, heard her voice, and I ran out into the road* and she carried me home to another house and left, me there. r> I used to bring rabbits home id the summer, but lam getting too old now; I naVe got a-very good home here, and the children arovery .kind to me. lußed to be sosad arid lonely at. the sohoolhousebyimyself, and I often wished, I had let/my nv'streis take me away with her. . I like to sit, on theihob and' warm myself. I. don't. think I^will live very long, for I am troubled with rheumatics in my knees, for lam 14 years of age. They do not serve me the isame, as old Ginger is' served, for they let me stop .in on a cold night, and I do not think it is fair to put him out; as. he might, get the influenza. I had it, and was bad for! two days, and the ohildren got me in a loft andgave me some" food and new milk, and I heard one of. them say that if I took a. walk it would do me a deal of good. You will wonder how I came to know that old Ginger was, writing. The paper was lying on the sofa, and I jumped up and saw his letter, so I thought I would., write too. Dear Dot, I have taken nearly a, week to write and I hope it is not too ' long. I must now stop, as my eyes are getting \ dim. lam thinking about getting a pair of spectacles, but I am afraid that the children, will break ,them, for I cannot reach up to a shelf and I eannoti'fix them on to my head. ,1 . am also thinking of getting a wig, as I burnt my hair at the ,flre. Dear Dot, can .you tell me how to fix the spectacles on to my head P I . must now say good-bye. — You^s truly, Old Bluie (aged 14), [The best plan for Bluie to adopt would be to get his mistress to glue the handles of the spectacles to the fur. The wig might be fixed on -in' the iame manner. Then Blnie's name might very well 'be changed to Beauty, for a Beauty 'he would be indeed.— Dot.]

'Dear -Dot, — I am 10 yearns old, and I am in " the Second Standard. We have a little pup ; will you please give me a name for it. The" measles are here, and my brother has them. The school has been closed, and is pot to open for two' weeks. The examination is coming, and I. hope' l shall pass. When the holidays come we go to the coast, and we have fine fun. - I learn the violin, and Mr Parker is my teacher. I get on fairly well— a great deal -^ better than I did at the pianoj which I used to learn to play. We 'have a bowling, green * and a tennis, green, but the bowling green belongs to the Milton Club, but we

" Ha ! ha ! " he continued in a solemn 1 whisper. "I know all about it— Nineteen Hundred and Ninety-two knows all about b." " I wish you could invent some plan to get us out of this dreary 4t00d," said the Prince. "I can— l will!" came the answer; "but you must believe me, and have perfect trust in me. I'm only a little chap, you know, but I'm growing. 'You're a Prince ! " Chip started. "Don't be alarmed. Just a little invention of mine which I'm perfecting. By the time I pop in in my proper almanao order it will be ready for immediate use, and people who live in my day will then be able to find out and know more about other people's business than they do themselves. They try it now, but it's no good. My system will be the right one." The little man visibly chuckled. "You want to reach the seashore — you want to find a certain spot ? I'll take you to it on condition that! you'll carry me with.you whereever you go. You can carry me in your waistcoat pocket, though I may mention quite con; fidentially that, by another of my little patents on which I am engaged, I am able to change myself into anything I please — anything between a white elephant and a peacock's feather. What do you say P •■ People are remarkably changeable nowadays. My dear Prince, when 1992 comes in they'll be more so. Every man and woman will represent a sort of specimen of an animated climate— and what could be more changeable than that P " The little man was simply revelling in his own humour,' and Chip was deeply and delightfully interested in his new-found friend. "I'll take you with me with pleasure," said the Prince. "Good!" cried Nineteen Hundred and Ninety-two, " that's a bargain. I won't shake hands— rather not. I simply want to go for ideas. You see, you're a human being ; I'm only a coming year. I want to get on good terms with those whose followers will have to spend a whole twelve months with me. It'll do me good. Now, what is it— the seaside P All right. How shall we go— balloon or sky railway ? My sky railway will cause a sensation. I have got all my arrangements complete for boring my tunnels through Jhe clouds. Everything 'express'— no 'stopping at all stations.' You simply step in, door goes 'bang,' and before you've had time to pull up the window to keep out the draught, why, you're 'there.' Like it P Of course you do. Capital thing if you're in a hurry, eh ? But suppose, now, we go by my celebrated shock system. , Very simple — perfect by the time my turn comes, to fall in after 1991. May I try it on you ? " " Certainly," said Chip, merrily. "Good. Right away.!. Seaside!" Chip felt his whole system give a tremendous twinge, but he had scarcely time to think about it before the glorious sea breeze and theodour of the ocean told him that he was standing on the seashore.

embroidery the air was filled with singingsuch singing as neither he nor any mortal man had ever heard before. The music seemed to be wafted in on the white crests of the waves as they gently rolled in towards the shore. The nofcoß enthralled him. They grew sweeter and sweeter, louder and louder, richer and richer. As wave succeeded wave so was the harmony more irresistibly enthralling. The tide bore with it tones that vibrated "upon the cords of his heart. These sounds danced within him and filled his soul, with rapture. He gazed in wonderment upon the water. So alluring was this heavenly music that once he almost found himself going forward to catch one of the incoming waves which seemed to carry a cord more sweet and pure than its fellows. And those fascinating strains led him on. Step by step, slow and measured, he went out to meet the music. He wanted to gather it up, to flood his very beiDg with it, to live and die in the midst of the complete happiness which every succeeding note brought to him. " Sunshine, my own Sunshine," he murmured as he went on, his eyes sparkling and looking vacantly before him, " you cannot be far away from such a spot as this. As sweet as thy own name, as pure as thy own' self. Let me see thee — oh ! let me see thee ! I can hear thy voice — why cannot I see thy face ? Sunshine ! Sunshine ! Sunshine ! " And with the name of his yet unseen sweetheart on his lips and in his heart he reached the edge of the waves. He was walking into the water from whence the music came. (To ie continued.)

LETTERS FROM LITTLE FOLKS. Dear Dot, — I have a little kitten, blue in colour ; will you please give me a name for it. Don't you think blue is a very uncommon colour for a cat ? Dear Dot, we have had very frosty weather lately ; and I have had a lot of chilblains, but I have got rid of them now. I am going to tell you of a certain cure for them, as I see many of the little folks are asking for one. It is to take linseed oil and hold your, feet close to the fire and then rub it on. Dear Dot, I am going to tell you about Otautau. All round it is hills, and towards the west is the Longwood Jßange. Towards the east the Aparima flows, and it 9 tributary the Otautau. It -is rather nice here in the summer, as you can go and wade in the river or have a picnic in the bush.— Yours truly, Ivr. Otautau, July 14. [Blue is certainly an uncommon colour for a cat, and you want an appropriate name for her. How would Bluecap do ? The cure for chilblains, is a very simple one, and it should be worth trying.— Dot.] Dear Dot,— As I have nothing better to do to-night I am going to try my hand at writing, and I think I may as well write to you to amusa the little folks as to anybody else. lam very fond of little people. ' My mistress's baby is very fond of me, .and when he wants to play

mer time a great many people come down. Some camp out, while others stay at the boardinghouses. Two steamers run up and down the river in summer time. One comes from Waihola lake, and the other comes from Henley. There is a large bush here, and it has a lot of ferns growjng in it. There is a creamery, but it is not working just now. My friend Violet is going to write to you. We both go to school. There has not been a good attendance lately, because there is so much sickness about. I have got chilblains, but they are not very bad. lam going to send you a story, it is called

As{. Idjob Day. "If I could only have one whole day to do nothing but play in, how happy I should be ! " said Nelly to her mother at breakfast time. • • Try it to-day," said her mother. • « Play as much as you like." How the children going to school envied Nelly, as she swung on the gate and watohed them—^no hard, long lessons for her. When they were gone she picked some gooseberries fora pudding, and took them into the kitchen. " No, Nelly, that is work. Take them away." Nelly looked serious. She got her doll, but soon tired of it ; her shuttlecock; and her ball, but the latter bounced into the kitchen window. She peeped in after it. Her mother was shelling peas. " May I help you, mother P " " No, Nelly ; this is not play." Nelly walked away slowly. She leaned against the fence till dinner was ready. After dinner she took her bag of patchwork to the barn, for she could stand idleness no longer. "Mother," she said at night, ",I know now what our teacher meant when he said, ' He. has hard work who has nothing to do. 1 "—Yours truly, Primrose. Taieri Beach, July 19. Dear Dot, — I go to school, and am in the Third Standard. Our teacher is Mr Ivan Tunzelmannr I have one sister, and she goes to school also. We have a mile to walk to school on a good road. I have a little pup ; his colour is gray and black. We have to keep him on the chain because he is,so mischievous. He runs away with everything he finds. Please will you give me a name for him. — Yours truly, -Woodlands, July 19. W. Alexander. [He must be as troublesome as a sprite is said to be, so I think Sprite would be a suitable name for him. — Dot.] Dear Dot, — I live in Thornbury, which is a village near the Aparima river. There area lot of farms round about it. The scenery is very pretty. You can see the Takitimo Mountains and the Longwood Ranges. There are lots of trees round our house.— Yours truly, WINIFRED INSTONE. Thornbury) July 14. Dead Dot,— l am* a Cat, and my name is Jerry. Don't you think it a nice name ? My colour is very pretty— so pretty that I can o

can play' tennis if we like. We have four oats. Three of them. are good monsers, but one,' whose name is Smut (because he has a black spot on his nose), sits by the fire all day, or sits out in the suu and sleeps. I liked the last story in the Witness, and I am always on tshe lookout- for the new ones, because they are always nice ones.— Yours truly, Milton, July 21. Percy Bastings. [Perhaps Smut is too old to catch mice, and that maybe the reason of his laziness. I think Spot would be a good name for the pup. You did not send the answers to the riddles. Please send them next time you write. — Dot. j Dear Dot,— l am in the Third Standard at sohool. Mr Matheson is our teacher, and we like him very much. I have two little pups; will you please give me names for them. We have a long walk going to school, and we feel it very muoh these cold mornings,, as it is frosty. —Yours truly, Eric B. Hanson. Maypark, Strath-Taieri, July 20. ' [Call .the puppies Strath and Clyde.— Dot.] Dear Dot,— We take the Witness, and I like it very much* Our school is closed just now owing to the short attendance caused by the measles. I have had the measles, bo I can enjoy my holiday. I ha<e a large black-and-white catcalled George. I put him in the show last year, and he took two first prizes. We have another large cat named Smut. We used to have a nice St. Bernard named Jumbo, but he died of distemper. We have another dog now, and he is just the opposite to Jumbo. He is so small I think you could get him into your pocket. Do you like dogs with their tails off, Dot P I don't think I do. We go to the coast every summer for our holidajs. The place where we camp is called Bull creek. It is aserylprettyplace, being surrounded with bush on three sides arid the sea in front. We have some fine bathing there, and sometimes we go fishing. One of my friends and I caught two dozen. I learn music, and am getting on pretty well. My teacher gets very cross with me sometimes. Hiked the last story in the Witness very muoh. Deaf Dot, I will send yen A LITTLE STORY. John Hardy and his wife were very fond ot their little baby , girl ; but they had great difficulty in finding a name for her. John wished her to |be called Susan (after his mother) or Sarah (after his sister). ' But his wife would not have her dear baby called by so common a name. She wanted it to be christened Angelina Victoria. John said he was a plain working man, and would not have his baby called by such a string of fine words. It was a dimcult point to settle, as neither would give in. At last they decided that they would take it to the 'minister and let him call it what he liked. The minister forgot to ask whether it was a boy or girl, so he named her after his little boy Thomas.— Youis truly, May Bastings. Milton, July 21. [Poor little |Thomas, that was very hard on •her, but I suppose they called .her Thomasina, which would not be so bad. Your letter is a very nice one, May, but next time you write do not write on both aides of the paper.— Dot.] Deab Dot,— Out school is closed for two --weeks, as the measles are very prevalent here. Dear Dot, I have go.t two brown dogs and a black cat ; will you please jjive me names for them. One of the dogs has the mange; will yo* please give me a cure for it. We have a h'arse called Billy. We have also three cows and four calves.— Yours truly, Pathick Keppbl (aged 10 years). July 21. [Call, them Brownie, Buff, and Daririe. For curing the mange use soapsuds to break up and remove the scabs, then rub on or apply with a brush loz oil of tar and 20oz whale oil, or lard and sulphur. Repeat after an interval of a, week or 10 days.— Dot.] Deab Dot, — I live near Middlemarch, on the Otago Central. I have had the mumps and the measles. I have a great big bulldog, and he won't let anybody come near the house at night. If they were to try perhaps he would kill them. I have a dog that is very proud of himself. Every dog he meets he goes up to and fights, but sometimes he gets a good hiding. — Yours truly, Henry Popham. Middlemarch, July 21. Dear Dot,— l am going to tell you about Strath-Taieri. It is flot a pretty place, for there are not many trees about the Strath. The ice is very thick at present, and I can skate on it. The Rock and Pillar is almost covered with snow. • I was up the mountain and I saw some wild pigs, and they ran after me.— Yours truly, Susan Neill. Middlemarch, July 21. Dear Dot, — We are having very hard frost up here this winter. The farmers have started to plough, but the frosts have kept them back. Dear Dot, March and Strath, the two dogs that you gave my sister names for, are fine dogs now. They run after the hens and the hens pick them, and then they run awiy howling. — Yours truly, Fanny Cartwright (aged 7 y«ars). Dear Dot, — I have three miles .to walk to school. I have a' dog, and when Igo to take him to his kennel he will catch me by the leg, and I get a stick and hammer him. When I let him go for a ran he runs away from me and brings home a rabbit in his mouth. The rabbits are very plentiful' up here, and the rabbiters are poisoning now. — Yours truly, Bartholomew Hayes. Middlemarch, July 20. Dear Dot,— l am a Sheep, and they call me Sandy. A little girl drives me in a cart, and I .. don't like that at all, especially as she makes me go bo fast. I' have a companion called Robin. He is sick just now, and so I get all the work. I like when he is well, because we both go in the cart together, then he helps me to pull. A man is going to make nay mistress another kind of harness, and it won't be so nasty to pull with. My mistress is very lazy, and so she does not * come out to work me till late, and I thus get a rest. I will write again soon, and tell you what I have been doing. — Yours truly, Sandy ((aged 2 years). Otautau, July 3. 4 Dear Dot, — I write to /apologise for some little pupils of mine who, I see have been writing some rather silly letters. lam sure, Dot, that you must be quite tired of such letters as — " Dear Dot, — I am ioHhe Second Standard. I have six brothers. I have a dog ; will you please give me a name for it.— Yours truly, Mary Smith." Surely the children of Otago can write bettor letters than that ! A few years ago you used to have some splendid letters, which old and young used to enjoy. Is there not another "Willie" to fill the place of the " Willie " of a few years back ? If each of your correspondents would write an account of the town or district in which they live we would soon have, quite an interesting account of Otago.— Yours truly, Country Teacher. July 20. ' "" [Very tired indeed, and I often feel sorely tempted to leave out any letter beginning in the way "Country Teaoher" complains of. Will my little correspondents please remember tbifl, and try to write their letters without tolling the Standard (hey are in or making any

other suoh paihfiilly bald statement of fact. While agreeing with "Country Teacher'^ so far, I do not think she has any ground for comparing the letters as a whole unfavourably with those of a few years ago. Willie Dougall's letters were certainly unique, but one swallow does not make a Bummer. Some of the letters supposed to be written by animals, &c, at the present time are really good, and must, I think, be read with pleasure by many grown-up people, while a capital descriptive letter appears now and again. — Dor.] LITTLE FOLKS' BIDDIES. 685. By Old Torn. Oat, Queenstown.— What is the difference between a rejected and an accepted lover? (2) Why is a Bhip like a girl? 686. By Bella Chalmers, Gentle Annie :-(l) What is it that goes round and round the house and stops at every doorway ?, (2) What is most like a half moon ? 687. By Inez, Otautau :— . My first is in cow and also in calf, My second is in gay and also in laugh, My third is in fruit and also in flower, My fourth is in rose and also in bower, My fifth is in ox but not in ass, My sixth is in youth but not in lass, If you look down my riddle-me-ree The name of a vegetable you will see. 688.— 8y Sandy : Seven crows on a gate ; a man shot one ; how many were left ? ANSWERS TO LAST WEEK'S RIDDLES. 682. By Kathleen Geerin, Dunedin:— (l) Because the bed- wont come to us. (2) Ashes. (3) 683. By Dora and Mary :-(l) One is six gross and the other is six dozen. (2) His left elbow. (3) Tother eye. (4) Of course they will say " no," then show them a shilling and a sixpence and you have them. 684. By Maggie, Kingston :— One goes to face the' powder, and the other goes to powder the fice. Willie Alexander.— You did not send ihe answers with your riddles ; please send them. —It is said that 1,000,000 of Chinese die every month.

sixth row, cast off three stitches, knit three, thread over twice, purl two together ; now turn to first row and repeat. Knitter.— Mr W. Melville, George street, is agent for several knitting machines. t The price varies with the make and the object for which the machine is wanted. Write to Mr Melville, who will quote prices for the various kinds of machines. SocrALTY.— No charge is made, but you must comply with the conditions at the head of country balls, &c, and the affair reported must be of a generally interesting nature.