OUR LITTLE FOLKS. A LETTER FRAE WULLIE. LETTERS FROM LITTLE FOLK.

Otago Witness, Issue 2379, 5 October 1899, Page 57

OUR LITTLE FOLKS.

A LETTER FRAE WULLIE.

LETTERS FROM LITTLE FOLK.

Dqx.

Bet will be slewed to receUe short letters from juvenile eorreof pet animals, deienmions ot iheir feroume tori, their partial, Junuiemonw. *c. The lettercto be written by the obildrea them■elrei aud addreued " Dot." care of tbe Editor, and to be publined id the pace devoted to " Our Little FolVu."

Dear Dot, — I've felt awfu' lonely since Well- j ■wisher has been awa. I wud be awfu' sorry if ne wis tae leave here an' no come back. He'll be back in aboot a week noo an' I feel awfu' glad. I've anither nice gentleman frien' Dot. Se is a great frieji' o' Well-wisher ; and fancy, 3ot, he's learnin'"me bosin'. I hae a horse lent vie an' can ride ower tae his place, an' hae j j.otten two lessons. He says I'm getting on ~iine, an' it will no be lang afore I'll be able tae i •'icet the crood o' bad boys that come aboot j coy place at times. I Weel, Dot, I ciinna ken what ta say aboot ■v, :a A.N.T. an' the ither lassie wha doots me bein' Scotch an' a' that, because I dinna like ■ -.unnin' doon lassies, an' think that they dinna j ' mean whit they say an' are only teasin' me for iun. Mither tells me no ta mind them. An' . iaither says aboot A.N.T. saying " oor bark being worse than oor bite," he canna say the same aboot that wee lassie. She's a' bite. Faither says it's only nat'ral, for he never heart o' , an' ant barkin' — no' even a bull-dog ant, but they gie an unco, bad nip. He says, " Dinna mind her, Wullie. She's some crusty auld ■ maiden Ant-y wha's frichtit a' the iaadies ? in < her time,-an' is noo sorry fort I bet." So I'm t no 1 goin' ta say ony mair aboot them. Dot, al- ; though mither says that the lassie's mither wha dootit my letters an' pickit holes in her an heiguid man'S clothin' is a bletherin' axild apple wife. I hard her tellin' faither that. So I'm ; no' going' ta run doon ony lassie wha teases ! me. As lang as ye stick up for me, Dot, I'm 1 <vuite happy, an' wi 1 nice lassies like Rita, ! Ziska, Violet, Roby, and Bluebell on my side, ! no' forgettin' wee Tui an' Silver Bell, an' ither j kind wee folk, I'm sure that those wha tease me are only funnin'. Perhaps ye dinna like me, Dot, ta talk aboot mither an 1 faither an' a' that they say, so I'll let them be for a wee, unless onything awfu' funny turns up. I feel awfu' sad like somehoo or anithev an' canna •write aboot onything at a*. What a nice piece of poetry C. C. M. wrote aboot dear wee Vida. I wish I could write poetry. I might try someT , day, DoVan' send ye- some. C. C. M. must be i a, nice girl when she can write such nice poetry, j Thank ye, Bluebell j it's kind an' nice o' ye j ta tak' my- pairt, .an' I'm glad ta hae ye for a frien', and when we hae oor badges I hope we meet. Dot disna think, it" richt o' lads an' lassies th.egith.er through the Witness, so we'll hae ta trust ta chance ta bring us 'Ihegither. .Mither .says I wad rin a mile awa' j if I saw mie o' the wee folk girls coming tao i see me, Dot. Weel, if the lassie wis ony o' j your- wee folk that I hae pickit on, I wudna rin j — I'd rin a mile ta meet them. I'm gettin' j T.wfu' fat, Dot. Mither says my cheeks '11 be | : crae day trailin' on each side o' me. Faither j tells me I'll wan a couple o' dray propsticks ta : keep them frae restin' on the table at meal times. It'y too bad o' them ta get at me because I'm healthy. Mither says it's na healthy pting sac fflt an' aye keep* us drinkin' castor ile. None o1o 1 iis bairns like the ilc» Dot. Las'. ! time we £;t it woe Geordie spo'mit so pot I through a' pairts o' iris im-G, and mither gied j him an awfu' kidin' as some o' the ile gaed a' j C'"?r the lable_ cover .' Geoiclie Cilz-.in £"tonyt ony ile ; Vioo. 1 wioh T could spout it oot. Wee Janet j an' Davey tak' it a' richt, but they dinna get j sac much o't at a time. Weel, Dot, I'll awa ta bed noo, and hope ta gie ye a better letter next time when- 1 dinna i feel sac quiet on't. So good night, an' love ta a' the wee folk an' yersel'. frae I WULLIE. P.g.—l hope Doughnut writes .again. Faither «a v s hei? the leader o' the Opposition.

Dear Dot, — Here I am again after a .spell of two months, none the worse of it, I hope. I see that Jessie C. has turned up again, and I ivas very glad to see" that she has not deserted ■our page altogether. Poor 8.0.8., I felt quite sorry for him when he said that he had to be •water joey -and wood-ca*jier during the snowy "Tweaih'a:— "8.0.8., tire "long surunier days will soon be here, and you won't-^need -to carry water then. Wullie writes some nice long letters, and I enjoy reading them very .much. I had a good laugh at the picture he drew pf his father, mother, and himself. We are having beautiful spring weather just now — it is just like summer. I have been busy ■with my garden lately. Some of the seeds I planted are up out of the ground. I have seme more seeds ta plant yet, and. I hope they will "row. I am waiting very patiently for the Christmas Annual, and I suppose all the other

little folk will be doing the same,

I am very

glad to hear that the reported death of Vida M'Kellar was all a mistake. "It was so sad, •wasn't it, Dot, when we really thought Vida was gone? I have been at a wedding since I last" wrote. The biide looked veiy nice in

a white dress, trimmed with white silk and a

very pretty veil, and the bridesmaid looked very pretty too. . I should like so much to know ißita, Pauline, and Priscilla. 1 think they auust be very nice girls. Harry is surely turn-

ing into a poet. He writes some very good pieces of poetry. So Dicky Donovan has said iarewell to the Little Folk's Page. lam veiy gotry Dicky, but I suppose we can'c always remain little folk, can we, Dot? Good-bye, ■Sybil. I shall always take a delight in reading your letters to the Cosy Corner Club (if ■you write to it). I have not seen a letter from 'Starlight for a few weeks. I hope nothing has offended her. Poor little Myrtle! I hope that she will soon .be better. I like reading her little letters, and I think that she ' will become .a good writer in the course of time I see that Trixie and Chum have not turned up yet. I don't suppose you will lemember me writing to the Little Folk s Page Jong ago. I can remember asking you for a name for a calf and a cat. I hope that your eye is all right now, Wullie, and that you can " ccc out of two eyes instead of one. There has •been a lot of snow up here this winter, and some terribly hard frosts. If C.C.M. is right an 'saying that Jessie G. does not Jive far from Gore, I might know her, for I used to live aiear Gore. I had a good laugh over that melting story. This lettei will be too early •' for next week and too late for this week. I was down, at Invercarfiill fox about a. week.

It was terribly windy nearly all the time, but I enjoyed myself all the same. The boys and girls are giving each other a rest now, and it was time they tdid, wasn't it, Dot? There is a lot of little lambs up here just now, but we have not any yet. Deal Dot, could you tell me if there .is any sale for the penny and twopenny New Zealand stamps. I have gathered over 4(10.. I think that it is a shame for anyone to write under false pretences, and it must annoy you very much. I see that my letter is beginning to lengthen, co I will bring it to a close, and -you wjli be very glad, for I don't think it a bit interesting this time. Now, Dot, I shall say good-bye for the present. With best love to all the little folk and yourself, — I am, yours truly, LETTY. Nithdale, Otaraia, September 17." [Your letter is very interesting, Letty, lrpt however I am to reply to all the questions in it, dear? Well, the most important one isabout ihe stamps. No,*l am afraid you will' not find a market for them. If yoxi had them all off the letters and carefully assorted them into thousand packets, they might sell some time, but it is doubtful. — DOT.] - Dear Dot, — I was away from school 'last wfeek, having a holiday before I went to Sic High .School, which I attend for the first time today. 8.0.8., I suggest that you go' to the fancy dre3s ball as Pierrot. The dress of Pierrot is white calico, dotted here and there with black pompoms. A white skull-cap, with black pompom on it. White gloves and shoes, with a black pompom on each. White ruffle round the neck, and face and hair powdered. I see, Dot, one of the little folk signs himself Tiger, which reminds me of a little piece of poetry. Here it is: 1 - There wa3 once a young lady of Riga, Who went for a ride on a tiger, They returned from* the ride With the lady inside, And a smile on the face of the tiger. I went, when the, Pollards were here, to "Boccaccio," " The Belle of New York," and " Ali Baba." I liked " The Belle of New York" best. Is it not a good thing that Dreyfus is to foe set free. I say "set free" because from what the papers say it seems almost qprtain. I must say good-bye, with love to you and the little folk, as a friend has come in, and 1 can't write when everyone is talking. — Yours truly, D. 0. S. September 19. [I hope our tiger was not the one who returned from the ride with the lady inside, dear. It would be dreadful- to think that we had amongst us such a furious animal, even if he did return with a smile on his face. lam sure we all rejoice in Dreyfus's liberation, and his persecutors must feel, heaitily ashamed of themselves.— DOT.]' Dear Dot, — We have had lovely weather for more than a week till to-day, when it came on to rain, and it rained a good deal. Our exam, came off on the Bth of August, and there were three failures. Both of my sisters passed, and they are now in the Fourth Standard. 1 was at a dance last Wednesday eveninsj, and enjoyed myself very much. The Black f.-ftijiiy were up at Mabel on Friday, and they gave a nice concert. I was at it, snd it w.'s my birthday. I got a nice little present fioin a friend of mine. I am so sorry S. S. has left us. I do hope she will write again. I am alco sorry D. D. has gone too. My father was laying a tramway at Colac Bay, but he came home last night. He was there for two weekr-. Th e Little Folk's Page seems to be getting more mic:? s ting. What a lot of lett?vs you have been getting lately/. --J- ja_pe_\ve shall get a paper of our own some day. JNiy sister has got another pretty doll, and Mie v.Bi.ts you to give her a namo for it. My brother has a little rabbit. My flowers are beginning to come out now. Good-bye.— Yours truly, NELLIE HURuEY. Mabel, September 17. [As we are all sc sorry at the loss of Sybil Scribyls, your sister might call her doll after her, Nellie. Sybil will be a very nice nnmo for her, won't it, dear?— DOT.] Dear Dot,— l thought I would again v.iite to let you know I had not succumbed to Ihs cold weather, but my "thinking members" mu't have been frozen, and, now that iliis k\ely spring weather has bet in, are just beginning to thaw. Even now that I have made :i start, I don't know how to continue, for -lows i.= rather- Fcarce. About a month ago i. .vm.t ' a week at a. farm not far from here, r.'.id one ■ day one of tlie horses, Ronald by name, \ as | racing at full speed lound the padcb:k, vl'c-n he stumbled over the stump of a tree and ! ripped his eye on the barbed wire fence. He is .nuite blind now and very timid, so I would 1 not care very much about riding for I'm afraid he would be inclined to shy at the ' least thing. While writing about horses I ' must tell you .that one of my very unladylike ' habits — that of jumping on a, horse without I saddle or bridle and galloping about— has" been stopped. I suppose mother is quite right } when she says I am too big for such tomboy | habits, but really it was such fun, and now the I boys will reckon I'm frightened. Well, "it's ; no use crying over spilt milk," and I'll now have to find a more suitable pastime. I had one little accident while staying at Mr M.s. One day Nell, Cecil, and 1 v/eio on a sort of punt paddling about on a dam, and while I stooped down to pick up an oar I managed to j overbalance the punt, and fell into the water. | Oh, how colu the water was, and instead of j I helping me to get out (for I cannot swim), j Nell and Cecil pulled to the other side of the dam, and left me floundering about in 10ft of watei. Fortunately, Mr M. was near at hand, and came to the rescue. What an awful sensation I felt. I cannot describe it, but in future I shall be more careful when on water. On the Sunday before I came home Nell and I v/ere wandering about, when Cecil and Pomaine came and asked us to go over to one of the haystacks. We complied, and imagine, dear Dot, the look of horroi and fear on my face when Cecil let a trained ferret make its way through the stack and send rats of all sizes scampering about in all directions. Talk of spiders and mice! — may I never see anything worse than that. I could neither run nor scream. I was spellbound. Oh, to se3 those little animals scampering over our feet and disappearing, as it seemed, into space. The dogs raced after them, killing many, and when at last we saw Scout poke his head out we knew all the rats had been hunted out, and the business was over. There will be a vacancy not easy to fill up now that Dicky Donovan has ceased to contribute to your column, Dot, and, with all the o.her little folk, I join in wishing him ever &uceeFS and happiness in all lie xtndeitake3. Xt ia

also with regret we bid. farewell to another oi your best correspondents, S. S. - I do hope there will not be any. more partings for many a long s day, for the little folk's page is read with much interest and enjoyment, and it would not do for it to fall off. lam waiting eagerly to see how Mona and her guests spent Saturday afternoon. When I come to town, and it will not be long now, I * shall advertise in Dot's page a meeting of the Dunedin correspondents, and arrange about spending a day together. But I must draw to a close now, and practise for an hour before tea. Best regards to all little folk, and love to Dot, from " ' ISMENE. September 16. <, [You were certainly put under a very trying ordeal at the haystack. Ismene, and I don't wonder at your being spellbound. Such a proceeding might have appeared fine fun for boys, dogs, and ferret, but they should have enjoyed it themselves, and not have brought you into it.— DOT.] i Dear Dot,— One of the little -folk is inquiring after me. So here I am, all alive oh! lam in the midst of exams, at present, and have little time. I received a very interesting letter from London lastMuail. Here are some of the contents: — "We have arrived at the barracks only this afternoon, after having been on the manoeuvres for two months. We are all delighted to be at home again. The first week a storm came oa, accompanied by thunder and lightning, which so frightened our horses that 200 broke loose. Our tents were blown down, and we were wet through to the skin. We had not a dry shirt for five dsys and nights. The remainder of the time has be'en so hot and dry that we could have wished to have been drenched again so as to cool up. The third week, in a charge, my hoise stumbled and fell, breaking his back in the fall. I was tin own off and fell underneath him. As the poor horse tried to rise he fell again, and I got my right leg injured. I was in the" hospital for three weeks, but am all right nov. . . . Our barracks are similar to a large boarding school. There are 20 I rooms, and 30 of vis m each room. In each room there are 16 large windows, eight on each side. We have our food served in. the same room as we sleep in. Our beds are made lo fold up," etc., etc. i Such is the substance of the interesting letter , he sent me. He is a trooper of the Jloyal | Horse Guards. I thought these paragiaphf. j might prove interesting to 8.0.8. . Dear Dot, I am glad to see the little folk are sending no end of letters. The letters are very interesting lo those across the dark blue sea. It shows our Home brothers that we young colonials, are coming to the fore. If we doj.'t fight with the sword we do wit'i the pen. My young friend seems to be good with both. H-e is of the stuff that heroes are made of. I am in. such a hurry to , show my friend the result of last night's exam, and to finish my essay on " Daniel," that I have to conclude, with love to all. — Yours tiuly, HARRY. ' [It is to be hoped your friend will not be ordered to the Transvaal, Harry, or perhaps, we may hear a very different tale from him shortly. Of course it would be much more interesting to read, but the danger is too awful to contemplate. — DOT.] Dear Dot, — The last time I wrote to you we footballers had been beaten by Cromwell ; and since then we have been up to try our luck again, only to be beaten after a willing go i for an hour. They- gave us a licking by 6 points to nil. I think this is the last time we shall play this year. The same day the Upper Clutha, and the south team played a match, in which the Upper Ciutha came out successful by 12 points to nothing. Dear Dot, I am very sorry Dicky • Donovan has left the page for ever. He was a very good storyteller, and I liked his letters very much. I hope he will get on well in life. I have a breechloading gun, with which I knock rabbits over like ninepins. We are camped out just now upon one of the mountains round these parts, and are having a pretty fair time shooting rabbits. We get 3d a skin for them from the rabbit inspector. I see Jessie C. is trying to get up a badge of pink and brown to be worn by the little folk. I think it is a veiy good idea. I have a little horse of my own breeding, which is not a. bad 'un, though I must admit he is not so good as 8.0.8.'s Moses, because he can't take* a oft gorse fence yet, but ho can get over a rail easily enough. I like Wullie's letters also. I vi'l send some _yeises of poctiy for Wullie's benefit, which I got ironr k lisok, entitled " JOHN DAVIDSON AND HIS WIFE'S DISPUTE. John Davidson and Tibbio, his wife, Sat toasting their taes ac nicht, When something startit in the fluir, And blinkit by their sicht. '" Guidwife," quoth John, " did ye see that moose ? Whar, sorra, was the cat?" A moose?" "' Aye, a moose." " Na, na, guidman, It was na' a moose, 'twas a rat." , '■ Ou, ou, guidwife, to think ye've been Sao long aboot the hoose, An' no to ken a moo-.e frac a rat! | Yon wiisna* a lat, 'twas it moose." '' I've seen mair mice than you, guidman, An' what think ye o' that? Sa baud your tongue an' say nae mair, I tell ye it was a rat." "Me hand my tongue for you, guidwife t I'll be mester o' this hoose — I saw't as plain as een could see't, An' I tell ye it was a moose." I shall send the other verses later on. I must cloce now, \.itli love to all. — Yours truly, NUGGET. Clyde, September 10. [It was= not niuch to quarrel over, Nugget, but then it is ju^t the small things that cause the greater number of disagreements. — DOT.] Dear Dot, — I thought I should like to v/rite to you, as we get the Witness. I have left school, but you must not think I am "an.cient" because of that, for I am only 13 years old, but I don't know how high I am. Alys wrote ,a very nice letter last time. Ido like to hear of people's mishaps. Do you like dancing, Dot? I do. I was learning the winter before last, but not this one. I must not take up too much room, as this is my first letter. With love to all the little folk, and to your own dear self, — I remain, jourb truly, NETTIE. East Invercargill, September 20. [Though your first, I hope it will not be your last, Nettie.— DOT.] ' Dear Dol, — I supposed you received my first letter. Ido not expect to see it in print because I did not send my name and address. I did not know that I had to, but I saw afterwards an answer to Gordon, saying that he had not sent his. I thought I would not wait till I saw a request to send my name. You will see that I live a long way fiom you and the other little folk — not at the South Pole, though. One of my school friends has written to you. Her letter has not appealed yet. I saw that some of the little folk did not know what a rata was like. Perhaps I can enlighten them, for it grows in the bush here. It is a vine, and it curls, round any large tree, and finally kills it. It grows tc ii great height. The Cowers, aic- very 6mal!

and pretty, and grow in large clusters. In January or February the bush is ablaze with the flowers, as the flowers are a deep red. Don't you think the poetry of Ziska was very good, Dot? It wasn't nice of Maggie to make! fun of it, bue perhaps she did not mean it. This is a long letter, and I must close now, with love to you and the little folk from

September 17. [Yes, dear, I do think Ziska' s verses were very good, and I am quite sure that Maggie only wished to get up a little discussion to keep things moving. lam so glad you are all sending your names now. I* have two*letters to send to favourite correspondents, I and cannot recall their addresses at -present, but am just waiting patiently for them .to write. — DOT.]

Dear Dot, — May -I join your band of correspondents ? I "have been intending to write for a Jong time, but always put it off till you had more room, but your page is always full of interesting letters"; so I ana making, a ■ start at last. I' think there are poiBC C°pit?,l writerjj"among your correspondents. Peveril writes a very interesting letter. I see she is very fond of reading ; so am I, Peveril. I love reading, and would read all day if I had nothing else to do ; but, alas ! it cannot be. A few of your girl writers have bikes — how I envy them. I often go for a ride, but can never get one when I want it. If you know anyone who has one to give away, mind you send them to me, won't you, ' Dot? Puir -Wullie! He writes very nice letters too. lam on the lqot-out for you, '"Wullie, as I don't live so very far from you. Won't you wear something in your coat so that I can distinguish you, and then we could strike up an acquaintance. I went to hear a lecture the other night delivered by Miss Freeman, of Girton College. Did you ever* .hear her lecturing, Dot? I think she.-is just splendid. How I longed to go to Girlon after I had seen Miss Freeman. X think she is a true type ot womanhood. Dear Dot, I .'have never been to Dmiediii, but come I intend to visit the Witness ofßce and see 5 if I can't get s>, glimpse of you, Dot. Zephyr has not written for a long time, and I have not seen a letter from Ziska for two or three weeks. I hope she is no!, ill, as J miss her letters vaxy much. T think T shall stop this uninteresting 'ettor, Lilt you v."iil excuse it, as it is my fir3t. Like fl'c gieat siusjer ( Madame Melba, I come from Melbourne, so 1' shall conclude with love to all, and sign myself MELBA. September 19. [No, Melba, it would certainly not do to read all day. There is such a thing as the abuse of the greatest of blessings, and in moderation reading may be rp^arded as one of the greatest of blespingfc, but its abuse should certainly be guarded against. lam afraid you will not find anyone willing to give a bike away, dear, imiess it be a rich uncle with whom you may happen to be a favourite. — DOT.] Dear Dot, — I read the litle folk's letters, and enjoy them very much. 8.0.8.'s letters- are very good, and Wullie's are very amusing. I was sorry to see that two of your band have written their farewell letters. I have not written to you before, but thought I should like to become oae of your band. What fun it is trying to find out who those who sign different names really are." <i am learning, shorthand, and I find it very interesting. I sometimes go for a ride, and I like it very much. Do you, Dot ? I think it is a very good idea that all your little folk should wear a badge. How would red, white, and blue do? The gardens are all.fragfant with violets now. They are my favourite flower. I must conclude now, as it is near bedtime. With love to you and all the little folk, — Yours truly, VIOLET. September 13. [Riding is a most enjoyable form of exercise, Violet, but you know we in town have not the opportunity to indulge in it that country girls have. We have to be content with the bike, you know.— DOT.] Dear Dot, — I am a Maori Hen, and live on the hills behind AUanton. Sometimes I take a walk on Sunday to the top of Saddle Hili, whence you can get a beautiful' view of the big blue sea on one side and the fertile Taieri Plain Oil the other. The worst of it is that I am the only Maori Hen left about here, as all my old companions have unfortunately been killed by eating the poison laid for rabbits*' So you can imagine how sad and lonely I feel leading such a dismal existence all by myself, like the "l&si ;ose of summer, left blooming alone. ' I *m sure, dear Dct, you will feel much sympathy for a poor old Maori Hen without even a mate of her own species to keep her company, and if you can tell me where, to find such a welcome companion you would be a true friend to a IjuO: old Maori Hen like me. — Yours truly, AN OLD MAORI HEN. September 14. [If Maori Hen could only transport herself to the Dunedin Gardens, what a happy time bhe would have. There in a nice enclosure,, quite a family party of Maori hens pass a peaceful life, with plenty to eat and no trouble to get it —DOT.] Dear Dot,— lsn't that a nice piece of poetry in the Witness this week by Shan? I &cc it is dedicated to Isobel M. D. Mahoney. Well, it is quite right, because it is made up from the story she wrote. Shan wiites> " From ii Wellington Window," and 1 think they are very nice pieces. C. C. SI. has a little pk-ee in -'.bout I Vidu M'Kellar. Poor Vida, 1 am s=o glad to hear that she is Tiot dead after till. Keaiiy all the little folk arc making poetry— all except pool me. I can't do it, Dot. I'm not a genius like most of our little folk. Even if they don't make poetry themselves they quote other people's, and even that is mpre than I can do. More new correspondents. There are two nice letters from new correspondents, in this week's "Witness. They are from Alvera and Quc-echy. j Aren't tTtey pretty name. 0 , Dot? I have the I book '• Queechy." I think it is a very nice | book. My sister gave it to me for a present. T couldn't help laughing about the curds when I read Echo's lettei. She writes nice letters so .does Mona. Now, dear Dot, I'm going to ask you a question — the same question nearly all the Lille folk have been a°king you. What is the badge adopted by the members of the Little Folk's Page? Dear Dot! do enlighten me on this subject. I have not seen it answered yet. Is it a rosette, or is it the lettei s W.L.F. on the bands of our hats? So Sybil Scrybils has left us at last.. Well, I must suy I am very sorry. Her farewell letter was a credit to hc-r. Such language ! It is really beautiful. I shall conclude with love to C. C. M., Mona, Echo, Alvera, Queechy, and Cinderella. — Yours truly, MARGUERITE. [I really do noi know what to say about a badge, Marguerite. I am afraid there can be no uniformity without I could see my way to have some simple badge made, and thus enable all my little friends to procure one at a minimum cost. I must think the matter out, and see if I can arrange something, dear. In the meantime some practical suggestion may be made. We shall see.— DOT.] TO HARRY. To my dear chum, Harry, The postman to you must carry A letter with greetings too friendly to miss, And I think he will say, I That on no other day Did he ever receive such a budget as this. Does youi face, like this letter, dear Harry, look blank, Are you saying now who has played such' a uraiik k" - -

Now, I'll confess, and say it's " only me," bnt you are not writing nearly so often to the Wit-" ness and you don't know how our hearts ache with, sadness and disappointment when you don't write. High School hoys have nothing much to do, and can write oftener thrfn others,. We arc eagerly waiting for the Christmas Annual. You can guess what for. Now don't for* get to write to your sister of the pen, LOUISA SELINA. ■

Dear Dot, — I have never written to yoi^ before, but I have always taken an interest in the letters of the little -folk. lam so sorry Dicky Donovan is going to leave' our little circle, because through his amiising letters I feel as:" if I knew him. I have such a grand little pony. Its colour is chestnut. I have not a name for him yet. Would you please give me a pretty name for him: Dear Dot, we are having such lovely warm weather here, and our Violets are quite a picture. I wish you were here so " that I could give you some of them. We have such a lovely hammock at the foot of out ovcljard, and we take turns in swinging in it. v - While I am "writing this letter I am sitting on the Tawn in the sun. We have several- very beaxitiful plantations where we- all -love going * for walks. I hacl a' very nice ride on my ponj yesterday. I love riding, don't you, Dot? Ai ■ the school I go to we have a lovely fives and tennis court. The -former I like playing very, much, but I have never cultivated a taste for the latter yet. My little cousin is at piesenfi employing herself watering the lawn. She ,is a very active, little person. Hoping you will not find this letter too long and uninteresting. I must close with love to all the 'cousins, and a double share for yoursejf. — Yours Itu'-y, ' BOUNCER. ' [Bouncer! Certainly not like a girl, though' ,the writing is equally certainly not that of a. boy. I think you had better call your pony Bouncer, and select a more appropriate nanio for yourself. — DOT.] Dear Dot, — It is raining here to-day, and be-i fore it started it blew a little tornado, with, quantities of dust rising. The Taieri River iff very high at present, and is not safe to cross - on account of the snow melting so quickly, Dear Dot, I think it would be- a good plan toj put the best letter in the front of the rest. This would make the little folk more interested ia your page. I hope you will agree wit:- me, Dot, and also the little folk. Dear Dot, I am afraid you will not agree with me, bo.juiao making the selection would give you a lot ruoea trouble. I like reading all the clhcr correspondents' letters, and I am glad u-)s*.i tha Witness arrives. Dear Dot, Doughnut, Cinderella, Shan, 8.0.8., Ziska, and Scotch Wul« lie write very amusing and interesting l u Uccs, so there will be some fun if my plan is carried out. I must bid good-bye to Dicky Do.iovan, who lias left our page, but I would "like him to write now and then. What do 'you say, Dot? Dear Dot, it is impossible to send yon tha storj this week, because if you put it in v-l-together it would be too long. How nice it would be if we had a paper of our own, and then we could write till we were tired. You are giving us all the assistance you caiv sc we must not grumble. I must bring my letter " to a close, with love to all. — Yours tnilvi 3IP Rock and Pillar, September 10. [I should not mind .the trouble, dear, bui think of the consequences! lam afraid I could not possibly give satisfaction, and disnupoinled /small people would say that Dot had no right selecting this one, and should not have chosen that one, and where would it all end? 3? anything were done like that I should mnoli rather leave the voting in the hands cf the little folk themselves. But before doing so I should have to prepare a voters' roll, and how 'is this to bedone? Will you make suggestions, little folk? I am afraid Dicky will never return io us now,. dear; but never mind, his portrait will be in our group, so that will be some consolation.—DOT.] , Dear Dot,— l thank you for printing lny lasifc letter. I am going to tell you about my tiip" to Christchurch. We went by train, and I was there nearly six months, attending the West Chrustchurch school during the time. The children there were much more polite and kind tc each other than what they are here. I off as j wont to the gardens and museum. There aio laige emus and also lots of kangaroos in tt l i<, gardens, and they are very tame, allowing children to put their hands on their heads and ±,rl them. There are various kinds of birds, (iWI among them is a laughing jackass, who laugV' out so funnily that it makes everyone la up If - quite heartily to hear it. A parrot is the iu':-A intei-psting bird. He calls out "Cocky wants his dinner." When they hear the gatV expiring they all run to meet you as far as they cuff get inside the wire netting. We came "back again in Hie Elingamite. Yes, Lamb, dear, life is worth living. If you only knew hoy lonely and despised our Redeemer was, iind. how He suffered and how they beat Him, mid put the cruel crown of prickly thorns on his head, you would think your tioublcs were nothing compared with His. I think J shall stop Sow, with love to all the little folk, irtso your* self, and remain,— Yours truly, M. H. EX Kokonga, Sepl-esjber 2"3, " "- [What aii interestin*^tiiue you must have ha/i in Christchurch, dear. The g-prdtns are very beautiful, aic they not, and thes-ihJe museum is indeed worth seeing, and the willows s^ii the Avon malfe the holiday moil cnjovableT^-v. DOT.] Dear Dot, — As it i-3 too vet to go out to-day J thought I would wiite to jou The weather has been lovely lately, only for the wind, but to-da}' it started raining, and it is beginning to t«-n yew cold. The daffodils, primroses, violets, etc., are all out in bloom I thought Brendp, was very luc'iy to get a share in the Magnetic diedge, did not yuo, Dot? A ball vns held in the Waipori Public Hall the week lief ore last, which I went to. look -t, and I enjoyed myself very much. Not very long: ago we sdt our old hen on 15 eggs, vnct (heother day she brought out five dear wee chickens, but that was not many for so many eggs, was it, Dot? When I write about the hen it puts me in mind of Wullie's mother's hen getting caught in the trap that Wullie set for the rabbits-. Dear Dot, I must draw my vriting to a elope, a= it is getting near teatime, ec with love to yourself and all the little f,01k,-r-I remain, yours truly, DUMPY DOLLY. Septemoer 24. [Yes, dear, I do think Brenda a fortunaU little girl in every respect, and I am sure sh6 should be very happy. Fifteen eggs^ were far too many to put under the hen. Had she been given 11 or 12 much better results would have been got.— DOT.] Dear Dot, — I have been thinking about writing to you for a long time, and as a friend of xiiinc said she was going to write to you, I thought I would start at once. But now that I have started, I think J shall write regulaz-ly. The Little Folk's Page is very interesting now that the elder boys and girls have started writing. The letters I like best are. Ziska's> 8.0.8.'5, Mona's, Rita's, Doughnut's, and Piiscilla's. I see that two of youi best correspondents have left the Little Folk's Page for ever, and I am sure they will be missed Very much. I think that Mona's suggestion .for the little folk's badge is a good one, and I hope that it will be followed. Priscilla and Pauline have .not written for a long time, and I am beginning to think that they have deserted us altogether, but I hope that I am mistaken. The spring has really started in earnest now, and I for one am not sorry, as wo nave had a very severe winter. It-has snowei.

six times this winter, and that is the most since I can remember. "It must have been a 'great relief to 8.D.8. when the winter was oyer.^as he seemed to havehd<3 pretty hard times. Shan writes veiy interesting letters, and .so does poor (Wullie Doughnut was evidently mistaken when she thought that Wullie was a crusty old bachelor, as Well-wisher's letter proves his identity. Dear Dot, I must now bring this letter to a close, with love to all the little folk. -Yours truly, ' MINERVA , Dear Dot,— T think I shall join in the fun and write to you, Dot, as I don't think I am ' too old to be a "little folk." lam 15 years old, and weigh 7st 12lb. I drive the milk to the factory, which is about two miles from here. •U. think it was a good plan' about Jhe photos, and I 'am looking forward to' the Christinas •^.nnual. I 'have never had my photo taken, so I could not send it. I like wee Wullie's letters. They are very comical, and especially so was ifre^fifßt ofae. I also like 8.0.8.'5, Hairy' s, a^d v CZi3k#s lettera very .much. It is a pity Sybil Scjibylsh-and D,icky.J3onovau-have left oS Trrit- / ing, astrey r wJote'very--g6oa lexers, but I suppose we can't always be little folk. I think I have written a good long'"letter now, so I shall conclude with love to all, especially to the Scotch callant.— Yours truly,- ,■ . TOMMY ATKINS. [Tommy Atkins to the fore. Why I should have thought he would have been too busy /thinking of the~fe»Tful struggle that is about )bo begin,- and wondering whether he will be called to the front, to think of writing. I wonder.what post he will occupy, in the army — perSiaps drummer boy.— DOT.] , Dear Dot, — It is a long time since I last wrote to you, but you see, Dot, like a bad penny I fcave turned up again. Dad says lam longimnded as well as long-legged. I see by the fitness that Dicky Donovan' has retired, and Sybil too. ~ Oh, deai;, Woof our best correspondents goael -1 hope' you will not catch this •fever, Ziska. Is your eye better vet, Wullie? 'I think you are, as father says, rather a hard fcase. Isn't it strange, Dot, that I should meet ■with the same kind. of fate as Wullie's mother .had with the eggs, but" I shan't tell you what a sight I was. Evelyn says she does not like baking. "Why, I just love it. I hope the Dun•*>din girls enjoyed themselves on Saturday. !| All my brothers and sisters and myself went for V ramble in the woods. It was such a lovely ''day, and we enjoyed ourselves immpnsely. Do 'you know, 8.0.8., I had a dream about.you the ipther night., I thought your first name was JCecil George. Is that anything like your pro!per one? I know who Larrikin is, but I could .never imagine her vaulting a five-barred gate. jfNow, then, Mousie, your sister lives quite close /to me, and I know her well. Dear Peg-leg, •iEssie D. told me you Were an old \pt hers, *■ Oh, Dot, I started to write this letter jio you, but there I go running, off to somebody 'telse. ■ 'J. have a Jiitle sister called Dot, and she Ids just like a little doll. And you had a fall Srom'your bike into the mud Polly! My word, J I should not have liked to;have been in your felloes then. The bachelors' ball was held here ' jlast night, 22nd, and poor me had to be consented with looking on, as I cannot dance yet. '{Dear D_ot, four .of my uncles are in the North 'Island, •.. . One of them went last -week. He as in Wellington just now. I- think.w e are feoing up there shortly ourselves. I see Essie > feays, Vida is not dead at. all. . Oh, what a> Xhame it was of Topknot to lead ds all to think ehe was; but probably 9he made a mistake; dike so many of us have done. My sister has a. little kitten,^which follows here about everywhere; she says she would like you to give her a name for it, ploase. Good-bye, with Jove to Coo-e'e, Ziska, Rita,,.Mcma, and 8.0.8.-^Yours -{truly, ' •"••-"' . "' ... . USCA. September 27. '[It was certainly' a mistake on Topknot's .part, Usca, and I have no doubt she is quite pleased that her fears were groundless. Call ihe kitten Kaia, dear.— DOT.] Dear Dot, — I have 'been tiying to make up !my mind to write to you for a long time. jVVher. I see the nice interesting letters that some of your little folk write, I long to be tone" of the happy little band Some of the little folk are so cleyer, too. That poem by "J. M." is very pretty. Sybil herself i» a $cetess, I think. There is quite a number in [pour page, Dot. - I do not care veiy much for ipoetr-y, but I am fond of my music, although jpopa says I would. - practise more if I were ireally fond, of -it and desiricus of becoming an Accomplished musician. When lamin a particularly happy meod I sing away to myBelf and make up tunes of my own — not very rretty ones, you know, .but they please me. 5f my brothers heard mo they would call the 'clog, and make fun of me. But-I must change ;lhe subject. How nice all the trees and fields are becoming. Wo have two great big weeping willows, and they look bo pretty as jfehey hang, covered with their green teardrops, tover the water. Daisy came in and coinanenced to tease me by saying, " Dot woVt ua able to make out your letter; it will br returned jor rejected." And, Dob, she bad the impuIdence to suggest " O^i Hen," her favourite nickname ioc me, as a norn de plume. I retaliated, neither exaciously nor in a ladylike * .■way J ,-bjnfaying, "Do leave me alone and mind Jnoiu" own business." Poor Lamb — is she not a' "blue" Jitilo girl? "Why she is worse off than our little -favourite Scotch Wullie. I .yonder how much of her letter is genuine, •juid how much was suggested to her by Wullie's style of writing? But if Lamb's loL is really fco hard, I am very, veiy sorry for having misrjudged her, and if my words are unkind and junjust I hope she will forgive me. I have Sread this letter over, and it looks very dry and (uninteresting, but perhaps I shall do better Jiext thno I write — that is, if the editor does not limit our space. lam afraid he is deluding himself by living in hopes of the letters 'decreasing as the days lengthen. Do you ever mutter under your breath about "hanged young nuisances," Mr Editor? Does he, Dot? Please tell me, dear Dot, is my letter toe long, and have you difficulty in reading this? Papa Bays he can never understand my writing. — tYours truly, PIQUE. [Your writing is perfectly plain, Pique, and ■ I think your father must be a leal lease. I don't think the editor will say that, dear, but I am sure he will weai quite an injured look when he soes what I bring him again this week, land when he sees from year letter how mistaken he has been he will be in despair, I am Sure.— DOT.] Dear Dot,— lsn't this lovely weather we are Slaving just now? Everything is so fresh and green." Christmas is coming on again, and we 'hope we shall have as much fun as we had last , year. It is grand fun going picnicking in the j fcysb!, and. you may be sure w^Jbring plenty of ■ evergreens home. B.ear- Dob, 'we iiave found \ ou<fc -eoine' of the litijle' folk's" original' names, ' tout we do not .think -they have found out who we are. We have been asked to a bhthday party, and if it is fine we shall go: that is our orders from headquarters, anyway. Wo were ; just making arrangements to-day what dresses w shall' wear. We like re.aijing Wullie's letItirs, £ncl think them very nice. Poor old nSVulrre,. we -sympathise with him and send our love. Alys seems, to be a good hand at persuading, suid we suppose she knows how to get around them. We do a bit of that ovrselves, and we suppose there are a good few more little folk who are not new chujns at.it. Dear Dot, 'Alamcda does not seem to have a very good taste in tire selection of colours, or she would know that brown and pink go vcrx well to-

gether. There are different opinions, I suppose, Dot, and it would" not do for all to be alike. Dear Dot, we must be giving you and iho editor a great deal of trouble, leading all these letters, and we don't know how you can manage to answer all of them. Dot, it is ridiculous of.<a girl of 15 to think she is a "big folk,"- and -we think the same as you — that she should keep a "little folk" as long as possible. Isn't that right, Dot ? , We do wish we could write like some of your little folk; it seems very hard for us to do so. We •were at a dance the other night, and &o you know, Dot, we never missed one dance. We don't think it much fun sitting watching others dance, when we can get a chance to have a ■fly round. We love ■ dancing, as most girls do. There was a bachelors' ball here not long ago. We got an invitation, but, worse luck, the weather was not of the best, and of course we were nat to go. It is not the first ball we have been disappointed in, but the weather has been lovely for night outings lately. WeH^JDot, we won't intrude any more on' your precious space— So g6ocUbye till we correspond with you again, which, we hope, won't be long. — Yours truly, SILVEA AND NINEY.

The Country.

[It is no trouble to me to read all your letters, dears, for I am so interested in all you have to say. Of course the editor has to wonder and contrive where everything is to be got away even in this great big paper, So he naturally looks very anxious sbmetimes when Dot " conies' in." However, he admits your letters are very interesting, and says he will not cut down our space unless he is compelled to do so.— DOT.]

Dear Dor, — I was tackled by an insurance 'agent(ess) thte other day, and had a very narrow escape. r iNow I can stand any amount of jawing from a man, but you've got to be civil to a woman, and so can't get rid of them so easily. This one had a particularly good tongue, and rattled away at a great rate. She had 'me backed up in a corner with no way of escape, when, hurrah! my particularly ferocious-looking mastiff came to the rescue. Though fierce-look-ing.he is quite a harmless dog,but as he dashed up I Tan and seized him by the collar, and held him with bctli hands, as if he was a bear, exclaiming, " Down Tiger." He looked mildly surprised at the performance at first, but I turned his head towards,-my visitor and slyly pinched him. Of course, lie snarled and showed his teeth. This made the agent back away, and as I twisted his tail, thereby bringing, forth a series of horrid growls, I yelled, " Run for your life; I can't hold him any longer." The qrji,ck slide she did was amusing, and I stuffed my dog so full of dainties that he is still wondering^what has happened that he should be so well looked after all at once.

No, Bluebell, you have not the shadow of a notion who I am, and though I know your name I am not personally acquainted with you. I do not live anywheie near you. I live within the realm of the glorious mountains. I would not "mind if you were a friend of mine,you write such interesting letters, but I'm afraid my name would not enlighten you much. Nancy lives nearer you than I do (if I am right in my surmise). You want to know, Roby, how I could tell how many bees I killed. Well, as I said before, I didn't stop to count — simply guessed. A large, charge of duck Shot at 30 > ards spreads you know, and could not help knocking over that many in a large swarm. However, I was glad I shifted them,' as I usually get the job of hiving them, and don't -fancy it. Well, Echo, if those arc the only terms of peace, I'll have to echo your sentiment, and say I am very, very, sorry, and won't '" never nevei, do it "again. ' Perhaps town girls are different in that respect to country ones, though I should be surprised if it were so. Now I hope, according to contract, I'm fully forgiven, for it anight spoil my appetite to think that I am not.

I have a chum who would like to write to you, Dot, but he can't think of a suitable name. 1 suggested a few to him, such a& "Missing Link," " Shingle Short," " Demented." Very appropriate ones, I thought, but it o lly made him wild, and now I think he will give it up altogether. Re that problem of Mona, how's this? — " 8.0.8., for selling Moses, was a fool. Ethel didn't know a good horse when she saw one, and Dicky got a splendid bargain." That's the only solution I can come to. With love, to all, — Yours truly, >

BOY. [Suppose the poor agent sees this, Ur Boy, what will she think of you I would Ijka io know? But then I suppose a bow doesn't care —he is always saying he doesn't, 'at all evertts. —DOT.]

Dear Dot,— l am an old White Hen, and I thought I would 'write to you as I do not see any hens writing to you just now, J ™st llenty to eat, so 1 suppose they wi!l~bc killing mo and nutting me in the pot and eating me. If they do not, I shall write to you agnin if you will let inc. Mv foot is getting tiled, so 1 shall "top now, with love to nil.— Yours truly, AN OLD WHITE HEN.

[I wonder what kind of a layer this Old Hen is? As she expects to be hilled soon I snprcse her laying days are pretty well over. — DOT.] Dear Dot, — That was a very nice piece of poetry Roby wrote" in memory of Vida M'Kellar. Nearly all -your correspondents thouglit she was dead, but I saw by Essie's letter that she is not. We have liad our exam, and "I passed. I am learning shorthand and book-, keeping. Dear Dot, did you ever have to millcows? I am well off as I only have to milk one at nights. I hope Ziaka will write a btory for your page, because it is sure to be a nice one. I think, Dot, I know why you would not have your photo in the Cnstma's Animal. Did you like going to school when you were young, Dot? I do. I will have to stop now, because it is half-past 9, and time I was going to bed, so good-night, with love. — Yours truly,' Clarice. [And what is the reason, Clarice? You are rousing our curio&itv, and then not gratifying it Do tell us, dear.— DOT.] Dear Dot,— When I saw ICellie WfUock's letter in the Witness I thought I would write to her again. I wUh to inform her that I am not a cook, aiid tlo not profess to know anything about cooking. jW.He took me up wrong m saying that I cut a hot oake. Aiiyoue, even the boys, I think, knows that all cakes, except the hot squares child, en relish &o much, should be left to cool befoie cutting. I meant that the cooks liked the sciaps which are sometimes bioken off the calces. When the cook has her next door neighbour on a visit, she, while talking, for-jels to grease her tins, then the cake sticks, and sho eats the scraps. Of comae, she would say it was waste to throw it out to the fowls. Xcllio, doar, you might have told me your age so that I could %-uess if you were ful." If you tue only eight years of sisre you jn-e possibly pi-p+ty plump, but if you are 13 or li years you will be the loverse of the Englishman pa tells us abowt, and who -was 26 stone. Thank goodness he was no relation oi mine. Your poor pussy -met with a sad- donth, and you nutst have gneved much at her loss. I must now close, with love., — Yours truly, PEG-LEG. [I do not quite understand why a girl of 13 or H should not be plump, Peggy. Was that what you niea'nt to say ?— DOT.] Dakry. — I do 'not like, the tone of your letter at all, and if you wish to join o\vr little band you must adopt quite a different style of wiiUng. I cannot see any wit in terming everyone " a hard case," or in romancing in the absurd way you do iv portions of fcou!

letter. See if you_cannot.do something better than that nest time, and then space will be found for tout letter. — DOT. ~

y Jessie. — I do mot think we should begin descriptions of dresses at balls in oxir page, dear. " Emmeline's " page is the proper place for such descriptions. Besides you did not enclose your name, and that is most important when anything of a personal nature is concerned. Tuljp. — You also must try again. You could write a very nice letter if you liked, btit your attempts at being funny spoil it. Ismene. — I have not kept her 'name, so am not sure. Besides,^ dear, do^you think it would be fair for me to tell you? Perhaps she would object, and I think I should have to write to her for permission first.

ANSWERS TO LAST WEEK'S EIDDLEB. By Thornton Harris, Eiverton : — It has a pupil under the Jash. By Tulip: — A baker's shoe. By Annie :— (1) Because he gets licked and put in a- corner". (2) Because she pulled his ears and trod on his corn,. (3) Because it holds a gal on (galloii).