LETTERS FROM THE LITTLE FOLK.

Otago Witness, Issue 2433, 31 October 1900, Page 65

LETTERS FROM THE LITTLE FOLK.

Dear Dot, — Fifi said in one of her letters, "How can I write after seeing Con's photo?" Well, I'll say how can I write after seeing Old Writer's Week? It really was a brilliant success. The only regret I h?d \\ns that I wasn't among the old writers, but I may be some day, eh, Dot? I don't think the last group of photos so good as the two former ones. I only know one of the group — namely, Lance, who happens to be an old friend of mine. Dear Dot, since I last wrote we have

(1) Mr Frog : " Here's a find ! A beautiful big cluck's egg. What luck! We'll carry it home to the wife, and she'll make fried eggs and bacon and a-11 sorts of things out of it. You take one end and I'll take the other."

lost two of your corrrsxiondonls from this district—namely, C. C. M. and Millicent. Millicent lieis gone to Dunedin, I bhink, but C. C. M. is away among the backblocks somewhere. Wo still have Fifi, J. O. V., and Cis. The latter I have only lately discovered. I'm always finding out more little folk. Sparkle, aro your initials B. J., and are youra T. H., Cis.? I hope Dot will be the next to fali a victim to my finding-out powers, but I doubt it. Dear Dot, spring is with us again, \and the gardens are looking gay with J .he spring iiowcrs. Oh, I do like spring; don't you, Dot? The weather here is somewhat unsettled at present. The dances are going ahead down this way, and young people are having it all their own way. I always meant to ask you, Millicent, if yovi were fond of riding. I fancy you aro, after a little incident I chanced to witness. Do you know what I'm hinting at, Fifi? Now, dear C. C. M., I hope you will condescend to V.'rite { to Dot, although you have left G-. I'm sure | you are dying to get back among us all sgain. I was veiy sorry to hear of B. O. B.s mother's death, and I ask him to accept my sincerest ' sympathy. I also tender my sympathy to Jean and Cooee. I think Denis must be either Cooee or E.. S. H. writing under a new norn de plume. With kind regards to the editor, - the C. C, a-11 the little folk, not forgetting our ever-patient Dot, — Yours truly, HOLLO. I [Yes, Eollo, I also like spring best, with its wealth of tonder green. I suppose our preference for spring is due to its contrast with the bareness and cold of winter. — DOT.] Dear Dot, — It ia very windy and cold to-day. I still go to school, and I am in the same standard as when I last wrote to you. Our examination will take place in December, and I hope ■ I shall pass. I began to take a list of j your correspondents to-day, and I have got 87, but I have a lot more to put down yet. j A concert is to be held here soon, and I am j going if it is fine weather.' J^ear Dot, are you not glad the Boer war is ended.-" Most of our boys will be glad io come back to their homes once more. Isn't it good of Con to write us such nice letters? 'I have f.ot my badge yet. It is in my hat. We ~ have four pups, their names being Joe, Sweep, Mag, and Nell. We have a turkey, and yesterday we found her sitting on 13 eggs. — Yours truly, UNCLE'S AUNTIE. [What a curious norn de plume! I should 1 think the writer is really amcle's niece. I i hope you will pass your examination, dear. Eighty-seven is a good number of correspondents to list in one day, but you have nearly 10 times that many to get. Yes, we are all glad the war is nearly over; our boys will soon be back.— DOT.] Dear Dot, — I was out for a ride yesterday, and I enjoyed it very much. We were very sorry to hear of Lieutenant Parker's death, for we all knew him very well. I hope that Con and" the other boys I know will not share the same fate. I quite forgot to tell yoxi that we had a ball — I shan't tell the name of it or I will be found out all over the place, as I am known everywhere — and we had great fun. I went down for a while and enjoyed it very much, for it was my first ball. Now, Dot, I think you are a nice young lady, about 20, with light *brown hair, done up at the back in a knot and frizzed in front; with brown eyes and rosy cheeks. How will that do, Dottie? Now for the five lines of talk. Are* your initials B. S., Bren.? I hope they are. Do you live at D. ? And, Kitty, are your initials K. T., and do you live at D. also? Now, goodbye, Dot, -with love to the editor, yourself, and the little folk.— Yours truly, BRENDA. [So Brenda has been to lier first ball, and of -course enjoyed it very much. I wonder if she danced every dance, or was she content to sit out some. Oh, you familiar girl, to follow in the editor's footsteps and call mo Dottie! I really should be quite angry. — DOT.] Dear Dot, — I am very busy studying for the examination. I (go to the Convent School, where I learn music, fancy work, and many other things. I read the Witness every week, and. I see that Dot has a lot of correspondents, and I imagine you are kept busy reading til© letters. When I read .next" Wednesday's

Witness I shall see little folk's letters, and I shall spend all day reading them. I don't believe, Dot, that the editor has any idea of the number of people who read Dot's columns, or he might oblige you more frequently with more room. The letters in Old Writers' Week wore worth reading. I wps glad to see so many old little folk remembering Dot. With love to all the little folk and yourself, — Yours truly, PANSY.

[Oh, yes, Pansy, the editor knows very well what a big family party Dot's friends are, but you know he has found it necessary to limit iis to eight columns, and we must try to keep within the bounds.— DOT.]

Dear Dot, — Just fancy Harry talking about leaving our page. Look here, Harry, if I'm not mistaken you said in cne of 3'our letters that you intended to write \intil you had reached the retiring age. Didn't you now, Harry? By the bye, Dot, didn't Mighty Atom say he would write again? Well, I think it's about time. Some of the photos weie very indistinct in the last group. I only knew Lanette. She was a mate of mine at 'school. I think Lance must be about 20. Clarissa says she saw him the other day. She said, "It's just like the photo m the paper. ' She looked for a badge; but could not see one. Dear Dot, I've just turned out my pocket, and to let you have an idea of its contents, I'll give you the names of some of the things. Well, here goes: — A penny, a reel (no cottov on, though), some marbles, some matches, two knives, a button, a ball, a lump of sugar (its eaten now), a hair ribbon, a bit of worsted, a bit of twine, etc. I may as well say there's a hole, too. I suppose you will say, "No worder, with such a lot of rubbish in it." -My list has amounted to 894 little folk now. I was at a social about a week ago, and I enjoyed myself very much. Dear Dot, vliore has the Critic Club gone to? Taffy hasn't written for a long time. I think it's about time, don't you, Dot? Isn't theie a lot of {luirnals named after Boer commanders, especially Kiuger? We have a cat named Kruger. We have a doer whose, name is Puddins. Funny name, is it not? I will tell you how he got it. He had no name, and we just used to call him Puppy; but one day my cousin called him "Puddins," because he was so fat, and the name has stuck to him. He knows his name quite -uell, too. I shall now close, hoping my letter is not too personal this time, as I've tried not to make it so, w»th love to Dot and all the little folk. --Yours tri.ij,

WJLD DAISY.

P.S. — I send my love to the editor, hoping he's not breaking his heart with all the space he is allowing us.

[Eight hundred and ninety-four names! Why, we shall yet reach 1000, no wonder there is need for another holiday. The Critic Club is still very much alive, as you -would see, after your letter was written, Wild Daisy. Yes, dear, youi letter is a decided improvement. — DOT.]

Dear Dot, — Here I am again turning up like a bad penny. Was not Old Writers' Week a success? The war in South Africa seems to be coming to a close. We have been enjoying lovely weather here, until this last day or two. I see Marguerite says she Las too many cor-

(2) "Look out! look out! Don't trip over that stone, or there'll be a smash. Wo-o-o-oh, old chap! There, it's going. I told you so! "

respondents, so she cannot correspond with. me. Well, Marguerite, I am sorry you cannot, as I should have liked to correspond with you, as you are one of my tavourite writers. Boy says he thinks he knows me, and asks if I live at F. Well, no, Boy, I do not live at P. I have seen the third group of photos, and I think Xyon'lite and Macaria look the best. A dramatic company is to be here to-morrow night. It is to play "Charley's Aunt." Summer will soon be here, and then you will be getting descriptions of picnics, which I never tire of reading. Marguerite was telling of the way she and Cynthia tried to make scent, ii reminds me of some oatmeal biscuits I tried to make, but forgot to put <he sugar in them. I won't say what they were like, but I think you can guess. Cooee and B. O. B. have my sympathy in their sad bereavement. B. 0. B.s farewell letter came as rather a shock to me, as I had no idea he thought of leaving so soon. Eimbecco wants to know if the little folk agree to hei leaving the page. Well, I for one do not. Is not the war in China dreadful?, Someone made a suggestion that we should say which photos wo liked best each week. But I "see that no one has started yet. I think I know who you. are, Millicent. Does your surname begin with. R. ? Tell me next time "you write. We get the Witness on Thursday night now, two days, earlier than we ■used to. The boys here _play awful tricks on the school teacher. One of them, got an egg and smashed it on the floor of his dwelling house. But he got an awful, strapping the next day, and it was no wonder. It was rather a bad example for the oldest boy in the school to set. The teacher is getting up a cricket club for the boys. - He got a bat and' a ball for the girls to play rounders with, but on the third day the ball was in two pieces, and the bat was found down the street, so that was rather a bad ending for it. 1 am trying to induce Paddy, fiorn Ophir, to write, but he is rather lazy. Dear Dot, I have taken quite a fancy to that Dolly of yours. I think I shall now say good-bye, hoping there is not too much private talk in this letter. — Yours truly, SABINA. [I hope the boys who played such senseless tricks will see your account of them in print, Sabina, and if they do I think they will be heartily ashamed of themselves. Descriptions of picnics are certainly very interesting sometimes, dear, and I don't wonder at your looking forward to them.— DOT.]

Dear Dot, — I take great interest in reading the little folk's letters. What a number yon have writing to your page, rather a change to what it was a few years ago. I have the privilege of knowing a few of your correspondents, but cannot come up to Ziska, Echo, or Little Lady. Dimedin is my birthplace, so you will know what my feelings are towards it. No place like "bonnie old Dunedin." When I -used to pass the Witness office I never imagined that such a fairylike person as Dot was within. Never mind, next time I pay Dunedin a visit my interest will lie in the direction of the Witness office. I shall be in Wellington at Christmastime, when I shall keep my eyes open for badges.. In. last week's Witness I noticed a letter from Eangi Moki (evidently a little Maori), giving a splendid description of the Maoris. I, t«o, know a good deal about them as there ar6 a great number in the Taranaki and Auckland Provinces. A few miles from here is a montyment erected in honou'i 1 of Major Yon Tempsky, who too a j rotnmenj; |>art in $he MaQii war. I shall try (if not fce-

yond my power) to describe a visit I made last summer to the largest and most civilised Maori pa in the North Island. A large \party of us went to see the greab Maori meeting, which is held on March 17 of each year. The Maori missionary from Wellington was present, and the Natives made a great fuss with him, rubbing noses, etc. Arriving at our destination we witnessed a Maori war dance, which rather scaled us, as the Natives looked so fierce. Then we strolled through the village, viewing the various spots of interest. We were first shown through the large meeting, refreshment, bake, and chiefs' houses, which are beautiful buildings, built by the best of European 'carpenters. At 12 o'clock we had dinner at the Maori refreshment rooms. The tables were very clean, and the waiters had white aprons and cax:>s on. Some of the little folk may think it qiieer to eat Maori cooking. nßut they have been trained, and,, make splendid cooks. This over, we saw another dance, by 80 Maori girls (four rows of 20 girl&), which was very skilfully performed. The dress consisted of pleated flax, and the hair was done up in a curious fashion, and they had black marks on their faces and bodies. The chief's son was leader, and he looked very fierce and warlike. After that we were shown {he reservoir, where the water is brought from the river, and laid on all through the village. Then we strolled up to the lake, which is a veiy artistic spot, planted all round with trees, sinubs, i -il've flowers, etc. In the evening we were entertained in the meeting house by the Maori brass band ; the Maori missionary from Wellington being 'present. A great" number of native war dances was gone through, ri'eh group appearing in" a different dress — first, ail in white, then all sorts of colours, next black velvet, trimmed with white braid, and so on. The Maori visitors were attired in the latest European style, which is o great improvement. Abcut 9 p.m. we ' started on our homeward journey, -having thoroughly enjoyed our visit to Parihaka, the great northern Maori village. I feel so sorry for poor 13. O. J3. in. his sr.rl loss, and I am sure he will have the united sympathy of the little folk m his late be^ivement. I know who you are, "An Aunt to Twins." When I saw the sentence, "I go to Kapuni school," it fairly took my breath away. It is nearly a year since 1 left. Do you remember when I used to call you '"Plea" ? Do you know me now ? Well, dear Dot, I shall have to bring this uninteresting epistle to a close, or the editor will frown. Oh, dear, I should not say such a thing, as I know two editors up here, and they, are very nice young gentlemen (another feather in his cap). So 1 really think the little folk must be mistaken in their opinion of the editor. With love to all the little folk, the editor, and heaps of love and lots' of kisses* for dear little Dot, — Yours truly, A TCAPUNITE. [Your description of the Maori feast is very interesting, Kapunite. I am aure the editor will be only too pleased to give us .= ->"cc for any other descriptions of Maori life ,T?a may send. You know we have" only a few Maoris clown here, and they are too much, like Europeans in their ways to be very interesting. — DOT.]

Dear Dot, — I have devoured the contents of the Little Folk's Page weekly for a long time now, but could not pluck up courage to write before, as some of our correspondents are exceedingly good with the pen, while I — well, I'll leave the Critic Club, Dot, and the little folk to criticise, if they wish. J like Laddie's, Marguerite's, John Bull's, and Lorna's letters very much, and most of the others' are very gcod. I see some of the little folk are giving imaginary descriptions of you, Dot, and undoubtedly some draw largely on their imagination. I think you are a sweet-faced little lady, about 4ft Sin high, fair hair, blue eyes, rosy cheeks— and false teeth. I wonder if Dot or any of the little folk have been to Lake Wakatio'i; I also wonder what they thought sf it if ti-ey have. I think the lake scenery is gyieiiilicl. I almost forgot to tell you how much J adnihed the photo of Dot, drawn by Wuihe. I tbuM.,l'l would have been much more complete though had he (Wullie) been kneeling at your feet. Lots of love to Dot, little folk, and the dear Editor — with a big E. — Yours tiulv, TINY TIGHT FOOT. [Dear me, what a nice picture of Dot, till you came to the end — false teeth. That spoils it altogether. Now, if you had said "pearly teeth," Tiny, it would have been in keeping with the rest.— DOT.] Dear Dot, — I must tell you what happened to my badge the second time I had it on. I was down at the river with some other boys, having a swim, and after we came out I lit some red tussocks, and we were all standing around the fire when niy hat blew off and

(3) Miss Duckling : " Now, why couldn't you jnind your own business, and let me alone? I wasn't coming out till to-morrow, but you've disturbed me and jolted me about so that I feel quite dizzy. Run away home, or I'll tell mother on you, see if I don't! " went into the middle of it and soon started to burn. I got a board, from an old hut near by and managed to get the hat out, but it was nearly all burnt. When the blaze -went out I started to look for my badge, and found it lying amongst the burnt straw, as black as the pots, so I took it home and got some Monkey soap which soon took off the black. Dear Dot, I must tell you about some of my cooking experiences. The other day I was cook,, &o I put some rice on at 10 o'clock, and it boiled nearly to flour; the potatoes mash, and the meat to rags, so that was not a very good start. — Yours truly, W. G. P. [What a narrow escape your badge had, W. Gr. P., but it was bad enough to have your^hat^ burnt without losing the badge, too. Your first experience in cooking was not a success by any means, but probably you will get* on better next time.— DOT.] Dear Dot, — I have been two years at school, and am in the Firat Standard. I have five brothers and one sister, but only' two of us go to> school. There are 61 pupils, and four of them ride to school. I have a mile and ahalf to walk, but my brother has four miles to go, therefore he rides. I stay all the, week at my auntie's. I have a pet 'amb, and its name is Daisy. It was nearly dead one night, but it is all fight now. — Yours truly, DOLLY.

[Your brother has a good distance to go to school, Dolly, but I suppose it does not take him. any longer to ride four miles than it takes you to walk a mile and a-half. — DOT.]

Deal Dot, — It is a good while now since I wrote last. I think that once in about two months is quite, sufficient for me to write. Well, I must tell you that I went up to Dunedin on Friday to get my tooth pulled out. I xysed to have the toothache night and morning, s6 I made up my mind to go to town with my mother, and put a stop tQ ifc. Mother took

me into the dentist's, and we waited in i" ' a little more than an hour. Of 'course, I had J to take gas, because the denti3t said that X shouldn't be able to stand the pain. It was* stich a big tooth, with threa long fangs. I havo j found you out, Tommy Atkins. Didn't v/a i hpvve grand fun coming -down in steamer on Friday night? I thought the steamer, was going to tipple over. With love io all the little folk and youiself, — Yours truly, CLEOPATRA. [It was certainly better to get the tooth out than to go on suffering like that, Cleopatra. I hope you will not be troubled like that again.— DOT.] Dear Dot, — Here I am again. I started to write to you before, but I did not finish the letter. We got the Witness last laght, and I read some of the letters. I know the answers to all the riddles this week. The other day my sister Nellie said that you were a lady, because a man wouldn't be patient with all the letters. The other evening Nellie and I were outside playing, and Nellie was chasing me, when her shoe came off and she went rolling down Ihs* -hill, and I could do nothing else but roar with laughter at her. I said I would tell you. and she re-plied that I wasn't. — Yours truly, ' MARY R. DIXON. [So you' have told, me, Mary, and I wonde? what Ndllie will say? ' I am afraid she will noi "roar with laughter."— DOT.] Dear -Dot, — I have found out a good many of your correspondents since I last wrote to you. I know Piqiie, Daisy, Heatherbell, and C". C. M., but I will not -give- them away b> telling * their initials. Our examination is over, and we have got a week's holiday.' On October 1 a number of girls <went for a, picnic to the North Peak. I was one of, the party, and I enjoyed myself very much" We started about 9 a.m., -. and reached our destination about 12 o'clock, ' and although tired it did not lake ns long to light the fire and get the billy 1-oilcd. Alice we had had oui dinner we started to climb tho Peak, and as there was a strong wii:d blowing it was much harder work than ue bargained for. We arived at the top in .Hue ainl there we had a grand view of the surrounding district. However, as we had a long journey before us we could not sfcaj' so long as we would have liked to, but had to start on the return journey, arriving home about" C o'clock, ready for a refreshing cup of tea, which I need not say was very much enjoyed. With love to Dot and her numerous correspondents, — Yours truly, VIV^TE. [You must have had a, very pleaf-int tir e of it, Vivace. Picnicking and hill-climbing are cer- - tamly very pleasant.— DOT.] Dear Dot,— The Old Writers' Week was a decided success, and wo must really be veiy kind to the editor for his goodness in giving us so much more space. I suppose my letter will just be received in time for the next Old Writers' Week. How are all our old friends getting on, such ones as Ismene, Pauline, Piisciila, D. Dumpling, Little Miss Mofiett, etc.? I met Cherryripe this morning, and, of course, our conversation turned to little folk. Dear Schoolgirl, do you get the Witness where you sre now 9 I meant to ask yoti for your address before you went, but, as usual, forget all about it until you had gone. Please write soon, and tell us when you are coming back. Dear Dot, I know you dislike private talk between writers, but you must excuse me this time as this is the only way I have of communicatingwith Schoolgirl. Dear Fifi, if >ou do not live in Dunedin, I should like to correspond with, you. I will forward my address to you through. Dot. Dear. Echo and Dockleaf, how did you ' get on at the bazaar? We had to leave at 9 o'clock, and so missed the axmtion sale, which, after all, was the best fun. Did you go to the da.nee after it for ihe sale girls? I heard all' about it from M. P. and xi. B. ; Jycu nrasthave had a lovely time. Dear Dorothy, when aro you going to write again. lam quite frightened to speak to you — you know what '"or, don't yon ? Dear Dot, Punch paid me such a dirty trick the other day. I had my hair up on top just for fun, you know, and I was looking out of the window, which was open, watching Dorothy coming down, the road, and when she was quite near Punch pushed my head out of the window, and called, out to Dorothy, who -turned round and of course burst out laughing at me. Don't you think it was mean of her, Dot? When are we going to have more photos in the Witness, Dot? I think it would be nice to vote again for the ones who have not been in before, if you. have' not some already to put in. I shall conclude with love to Ismene, Cherryripe, Schoolgirl, Echo, and Pique, not excluding dear Dot. and our kind - editor. — Ycurs truly, ' DUNEDINITE. [I have nearly enough pholos for another . group, Dunedinite, and I hope to get them fixed lip and inserted in the course of a few weeks. The difficulty about voting is that those who rcreceive the most votes may not have a photo available, and thus the number m the group is limited. Otherwise I should be only too happy to take a vote, dear. — DOT.] Dear Dot, — We have had very fine weather this winter, and I hope we shall have a good spring. My brothers and sisters and myself have each a little flower garden, and they are looking nice and green. We have ten little calves, y which we feed on linseed and milk. My little sister Gracie had her finger crushed in. the door some time ago, and though it is' healed "now she cannot straighten it. My brother has a pet filly foal, and he is thinking of calling her Mata. ' With love to all,— Yours truly, HONESTY.

[I am very sorry to hear of the accident to your little sister, Honesty. How painful it must have been, and it is a serious matter for her not being able to bend hex finger. — DOT.]

Dear Dot,- — It seems such a lonj, time since I last wrote to you. I have had my photo taken, and I am waiting until I receive them, so that I can send one with my letter. The group of D.L.F. photos was not so good this time — they are too dark, I think. I like Hindoo, Xylonite,

(4) " I'm glad I've got rid of them, but I'm thankful they did crack that shell. I don't believe I could ever have done it myself. I was getting dreadfully tired of hammering. What a mistake it is to make shells so tough."

and Lance the best. Dot's Dolly is very good. It is too bad of you to retire, B. O. B. See, how all th« D.L.F. mourn your loss. Can't we persuade you to return to the page until you are 20 years of age. Accept my sympathy, in your sad loss, B. O. B. What a good drawing that is at the top of the letters — the one by Wullie. You will be a budding artist soon, Wullie. Whatever has become of you, however? It is ages since you wrote to Dot. Have yon forgotten the art of writing? We shall have to get Cooee to cooee to you, so as to bring yon. back to the page. The Critic Clvib havj not,'

beer criticising the letters lately. They must be writing a monster letter sorely, and have not enough stamps 'fco send fc away. Is that so, Taffy? It has been raining iO: over a week, but it has cleared up at last. When the Witness come 3 I always turn to the illustrations *.o see if there are any photos in. Now, Hariy, if you- resign, don't forget the Old Writers' -Week. I see there is another correspondent | writing under the same noin do plume as myself. Please, Dot, tell me which of us wrote under that name first. With We to all Dot's •little folk,— Y ours truly, PEARL. ;.' P. S. — Did you receive that photo, Harry ? — P. [I am really not quite sure, Pearl, but I fancy you have the prior claim. What has Pearl No. 2 to say on the point?— DOT.] Deal Dot, — We are going to milk 40 cows this year, and we send the milk to the dairy factory. lam in the Fourth Standard at ■ school. There are five of us going io school, and we generally drive, for it is about three miles away. I don't know any of .. ypur correspondents. I think Trooper Con's Jetters are the beat, but there are a-lot nearly as nice. My brother has 20 pigeons just now. 'We have a piano, and two of ray sisters learned io x'lay it for a little while. We have also a I ."bicycle, and I can ride it. I think it is nice riding it. I hope the war will soon be over, but I" think the other war in China worse, and there are such a lot of the British getting killed and ■wounded. My mother has two cousins in the •war in Africa. My grandmother often writes io the Witness. With love to the editor and yourself, — Yours truly, EVA. [Eva tells its' the Eom de islume of her grandmother, but I am not quite sure that her grand.tnohliei would care about being mentioned, so J have omitted it.— DOT.] -Dear Dot, — I shall be glad when peace is declared, because we shall get a holiday from school. I should very much like to have a bike this fine weather, as the roads are smooth <md «'.ry for a ride. I am very fond of being bareiooted, and I take off my boots and stockings whenever it is a fine day, and sometimes I go ior a v/a-de< I like bathing, too, but the water is too cold juet now. I saw Con's letter in la&t week's Witness, and enjoyed reading it very much. All the fruit trce3 are opening thenblossoms now, and the hedges are looking quite giecii. With love to yourself and all the litle lolk,— Yours truly, ADVENTURER. [I don't think we shall have long to wait for the Peace Bay, Adventurer. I think it is much ►setter to wait for a universal Peace Day than to have a partial one on November 9, as was at cne time proposed. — DOT.] Dear Dot, — I see you have had another letter from Con. We had a letter before that. We have been away for a walk to-night, and it vas lovely; but it came on to rain before we got home. Do you think peace will be proclaimed on the 9th of November? I hope it 'will, don't yen? Con says he had a letter from .Boy. I wonder if he got any of Moidey's letters? Mother is going away up-country in two weeks. I like living in the country better than in town, I think. Do you like riding, Dot? I ■do m.ss it now since I came to town. I used "oO go for a ride nearly every day. We aie very glad to see the little folk take such an interest in Cotj. Mother cuts out the L. F. page and sends it to him when sue writes. My dear ilacrocarpa, mother says'if you send me one of ■your photos I cm send yoii mine. Dear Maidsy, -we got j-ouT letter and shall be very glad to see you come down. We do not have much snow down here, Dot — nothing like what we have at Kurow. We don't hear much of the first contingent (now ; 1 have a brother-in-law in it. Do you Jcnow many in the war?-»*I don't. Now, dear Dot, I think I shall have to slop or the editor •will -be saying here is another big one. So, , .with love to you and the editor, — Yours truly, JESSIE. 3?.S. — Con's pet dog has a little white and' ( t>:ack pup, and we arc thinging of calling it Beira, after the place Con was in in South Africa. — J. [Well, no, Jessie, we don't'get so much snow as thoss m the high lands, but probably there is more rain. Ido not wonder at your missing those glorious rides, dear. They must indeed have made your country life a happy one.— DOT.] Dear Dot, — Have you any room left in your page for another correspondent? If so, I know somebody who would like to write, though she •would not trouble you very often. I write from the far south, and know a good many others who do the same. We are having the equinoctial gales just now, and you can hardly keep your hat on. I was at the kinematograph last week, and it showed scenes- m the war so vividly. I never thought till I saw some of the pictures that the Boers cotild be so treacherous. A friend of mine has just gone to Queensland, and I miss her very much. She did not •want to go, but people cannot always do what they like, can they, Dot? With love to you and all your correspondents, — Yours truly, ZETA. [Yes, dear, I can make room for yet another correspondent, and will be glad to receive occasional letters from your friend. The kinematograph is indeed a wonderful invention. ■ What an effect the display of those pictures ■would have had on a savage, or even on our own countrymen of a few hundreds of years ago.— DOT.] Dear Dot, — Here I am again turning up like a had ,peimy. It is raining to-night as hard as you could wish, and it was wanted, too. Last time I wrote to you, Dot, niy sister had pet rabbits, but now she has a lamb. My eldest sister was away for a holiday, and she came home tonight, wet to the skin. There was a concert at our school on the sth October, but although I had a ticket I did not go. I heard that there were a lot of people present, however. Tho next day being Saturday, we went along io clean the school, and oh! Dot, if you coulri have seen the floor after that affair — it was awfy\ There were lollies, cakes, bread, and sugar scattered ana trampled all over the place. With love to jourself, and all the L.F., — Yours truly, NOBODY'S DARLING-. [That was a bad ending for a holiday, dear, and I hope your si&ter did not take cold after her ducking. I ani sure many of our Dunedin L. F. would be delighted if they could keep labbits or a pet lamb like your sister. — DOT.] FERNS. (Essay by Willis Balfour Wishart, High str.eet School.) Ferns are, perhaps, the most prominent plants which grow in New Zealand. They prefer damp, moist air, and as this country contains tlfe requisite conditions they flourish here to perfection. -_Of course, there are many different kinds v of ferns, all of which these islands do 'not contain, but for their size they contain more varieties than any other country an the •world. Maidenhair ferns are considered to bo -the prettiest variety, but in -some places llisy ere not easily obtained, growing chiefly in the crevices in the "rock which forms inaccessible cliffs. Ferna have no flowers, as so many plants have, and therefore -no Beeds, but a plant is produced by means of "spores," which grow on. the edges and backs of the fronds. These "spores" are so light that they are transported great distancas, and this accounts for the same .variety of ferns being found in places that may be hundreds of miles apart. In general, ferns like great quantities of moisture, but the common bracken fern, which is so' plentiful, is an exception. It grows equally well in heat and damp, in the sunlight and in the shade. But ieru3 have so many characteristics that they can

hardly be enumerated, and if they were, it would take too long to do so. Every New Zealauder who doeo not like ferns should be ashamed of himself, and there can be no more interesting j study for anyone than ferns.