D.L.F. Old Writers' Week.

Otago Witness, Issue 2856, 9 December 1908, Page 83

D.L.F. Old Writers' Week.

Between thirty and forty places filled,— but now many empty! I greet with delight all those who h«ve come, but there are osne or two sighs for the absent ones I should like to see, and miss. However, they are no doubt weighty reasons that kept them away from this great meeting of ours, and we send our wishes out to them across miles of land and sea. Many happy years to come for them all, and many happy memories of days that are past! This week all other matter has been held over for the letters of Old Writers ; reports, etc"., will appear next week". Now to enjoyment of the letters of our old friends! DOT.

Dear- Dot,— l am glad that Old Writers' Week has given me another opportunity to ■write to the page. I have- nothing much in. the way of travels to write about this time, co will try and do the best I can, with a brief description of my movements in* the past year. Every time O.W.W. comes round it finds me in a different part of the world. My last letter to the page was- written in far-away Adaminaby, a little village in New South Wale 3. This year it will most likely be posted from Macraes Plat For the past 12 months I have not done much in the way of travelling, though I managed to visit Auckland, Rotorua, ana a good many other parts of the North Island, including the whole of the Main Trunk line. On the Bth of January I journeyed across the "great spiral" on the M.T.L. by train. It is a most wonderful sight, worth travelling a long w»y to see. That same day I visited the Makfttote viaduct, which was then in the course of erection. Since then it has been completed, and trains run across daily. The Main Trunk line between Karioi, and Taumaranui, » distance of close on 70 miles, passes through some magnificent milling bush — in fact, some of the best forest in the North island.

'My next experience of any consequence was the ascent of Mount Ruapehu, the highest mountain in the North Island, on the 19th of January, in company with two friends. It took us 15 hours to accomplish the task — jiot a very easy one. The day was beautifully fine, but the air was full of dense smoke, -which quite spoiled our view. Nevertheless, we thoroughly enjoyed the climb. After we had lunch on the highest peak, one of my companions and I with no little difficulty succeeded in getting down to the crater lake, where we enjoyed a hot mineral bath. Think of it, Dot — a. lake about 12 acres in extent situated at a height of 'over 9000 ft, and surrounded for the most part by ice and snow cliffs, while the water in the lake is hot! After being exiled at the base of the "mountain for six months, I decided to make southwards.* I packed up my belongings- on the 10th July, and three days later landed in Wellington. While there I made three faint attempts to go back to work at Waiouru, but the south held out too many attractions to me. On the night of the 15th July I boarded the s.s. Maori for Lytfelton. After a very rough passage we landed in Lyttelton about 7 o'clock the following morning. I w-as for two days in Oamaru suffering <a recovery after my sea trip. As soon as I got well T came on to Dunedin, where I spent a few days. My next journey was to irapakaio, where I stayed foi two monihs. From there I came on to Macrae's Flat, where I am *t present.

I am doing a -little in the way of mining here, and like it very well. The mine is situated in the centre of a steep face of hill about three miles from Macraes township. and, judging by appearances, has been worked with success for a good number of years. We are putting in a tunnel about 200 ft below the level that is being worked at present to tap the quartz reef, which dips down into the hill- -from the top level. Up to dale the tunnel has been driven about 350 ft, which is not quite half the distance it has to go. The tunnel is worked in two shifts, the day shift going on at a quarter to 8 and coming off at 5 p.m. ; the night shift goes on at 6 p.m. and comes off at 2 a.m. Every fortnight, when changing from ihe day to the night shift, we get from 1 p.m. Saturday till 5 p.m. Monday cff. Now I fancy I have told you enough abcut this mine, so will give you a slight description of Macraes. To ■begin with, it is one of the quietest little places I ever visited. Some of the buildings h«r« been startling for cloee -on 4.0 years, and some of them are very substantial bui'dings. The Roman Catholic and Presbyterian Churches are a credit to the people of Macrae* and surrounding districts.

I don'i think the L.P. Page has many representatives in Macraes: so fax, I have •only met one D.L.P., whose pen-name is Maid Margaret of Galloway. I believe there is another writer from this district, but co f*r I have not made that writer's acquaintance. Now, I fancy I have taken up enough space this time, so will wait patiently for a little more space* 12 months' hence. Wishing' the editor, Dot, and all the L.F. * h*ppy Christmas and a bright and prosperous New Year,— Yours truly,

VIDOCQ

[You are fully entitled to be called our wanderer, Vidooq; «a you say, each year seems to find you in a different place, though you do write apologetically about having seen only the greater part of the North Island since last Old Writers' Week. I think that to have seen the Hot Lake district and all the central part of the North Island, then to have finished by making the r scent of Mount Ruapehu, is quite a fair ord for one year. Most of us have one rt trip during the year; courpared with ruch sUy-at-honve3 E3 we are, you are an intrepid explorer. lam interested, too, to 3iear of your change of occupation, and gl&& to hear that you ahve taken so kindly to mining.— DOT.]

Dear Dot,— O.W.W. i 3i 3 round once again, and_ I am, glad to be able to accept your invitation to write. How thankful we O.W. should be for having a week set aside especially for our benefit every year! I hone it will be a great success, and that all O.W. from the West Coast will waken up, and the others scattered far and wide over New Zealand. We should put ourselves in Dot's place for a moment, and see how we would appreciate having the old familiar D.L.F. of bygone days remembering Dot by appearing in the page- She does jiot ask for much., so we should be very glad to fulfil her desires on. such occasions. It teems - such a long time since I wrote to the page when I ccc my sisters, especially West Coaster, contributing to it. She has not many more months now to write, and Trill be very sorry when her time comes for retiring, m eh« h«« taken a special iat«reat

in Dot's page all along — not like some of the other West Coast L.F., who only wrote one or two letters, and have forgotten, all about the P»ge ever since. "West Coaster has reminded some of them over and over Again, tut somehow they seem to lack the willing mind in most cases. The older we get the quicker the iime seems to roll by, and there is nothing like making the best of opportunities offered, for we can only be. children once in our lives. It was inclined to be a little chilly first thing this morning, and fog was- hanging over the beautiful blue hills, hiding all the back Tanges from view, and: leaving the closest ones looking all the nearer. - Sometimes they look go pretty as the sun shines on them, making the trees look nearer, and they are of such beautiful colours. If an artist could paint such scenes it would be lovely. The shades of evening are now falling; the birds ore going to rest after a warm' summer's day. The air ia still and calm, except for the murmur of the river close by as it ripples over the stones and shallow falls on its way to the «ea. The election, is now a thing of the past. Westland was seething with excitement at the time as to which man should be returned, and a great deal of bitterness abounded, and still abounds, over it. I was glad to see prohibition being carried in new electorates as well as remaining where they had had it before. I am very sorry prohibition was not carried here, let alone reduction, but it was not expected. More's the pity, for this is a great district for drinking, and 'hotels .have even been forced on the people in some of the rising mining towns against their will. It is a. shame. What a difference no liquor must make to the happiness and welfare of a country! I must now close, for, as L.F. may remember, I was never a good hand at writing letters. Kindest regards and best wishes for a merry Christmas and a bright and happy New Year to all D.L.F. and our Dot! May the page continue to flourish and prosper in the future as it has done in the past is the sincere wish of your friend. — Yours truly,

GREY VALLEY.

[Your family, Grey Valley, have indeed earned the title of loyal "West Coasters, although, as you say, there are a, number of West Coast writers who send a few letters to the page and then forget its existence emmjJetelv. But that has never been your way, and I am all the more glad, therefore, to welcome you to our meeting now. I know you were all keenly interested in your elections — we heard, even here, that yours was likelj to be one of the- most keenlycontested seats. I wonder if you saw how close the voting was for Dunedin North? Our two candidates had a brave struggle for it.— DOT.]

Dear Dot, — I have received your invitation to contribute a tetter to O.W.W. I cannot do better than comply -with that request just now, as I have a few spare moments. I am so glad we O.W. have the privilege of writI ing to the page once a year ; it is our only i way of keeping- in touch with the paper | and being loyal to our Dot, so I think those I that can possibly do so should take full ! advantage of the privilege. You ask us to write an account of our doings. Last time I contributed to O.W.W. I was complaining that life flowed on in the same monotonous way. that nothing exciting or very interesting happened to me; but hardly a month had slipped by when something out of the ordinary did happen. As you know, I am now in Queenstown. but in another month I shall be away from here and in South Canterbury. Mr W has got another church in a district near Ashburton, and if all goes well I am going up too. It's wonderful what can happen in a short time. My stay in Queenstown has been a very enjoyable one. taken altogether. There have been the dark days too, but bright ones also. It is with a feeling of sadness that I am leaving the place. I have made a few pleasant friendships in . the short time I have resided here, and have had many pleasant times. Do you re- | member, dear Dot, the Sunday yourself, Octava. Snowy, and I met in the park here and had a Test and a pleasant chat — a regular D.L.F. quartet? I am afraid this letter will not be for the benefit of others: I can't help making it personal. One Saturday afternoon the local Dramatic Society and a few otherp, including myself, drove in a waggonette to Arrowtcwn. That was one of tbe most enjoyable drives I have ever had. I do not care for A-rrowtown very much, bui. coming home was lovely. It- was a bright moonlight night, and we left Arrow at 20 post 12 on Sunday morning, arriving in Queenstown at 20 past 2. We pa'etd Lake Hayes, on the bank of which stands the home of our iamou3 D.L.F. Boy. Lake Hayes looked like a mirror; all the trees and mountains were reflected in it, and it was a beautiful and wonderful scene. We h»d a professional einger with us, c-ud we sang hymns and anthems, and our voices fell subdued and hushed to that lovely scene. It seemed as if -we were in touch with the Divine, that our thoughts and voices mu»t be in harmony too, that it was a touch of Nature too sacred for all thoughts or jesting. Away towards Queeii9town a lurid glare lit up the sky, where a bush-fire was burning. I felt a» if I could have driven on and on to the end of the world with that lovely scene before me. Pen of man or hand of artist could never do it justice. , It made me tliink of a few lines from Heine, only the scene wasn't quite the same : "We feel infinite happiness when the outer world blends with the world of our own soul, and green trees, thoughts, the song of birds, gentle melancholy, the blue of heaven, memory, and the perfume of flowers run together in. sweet arabesques." Just now I feel rather sad ; O.W.W. reminds me of past pleasures, when I was an active D.L.F., and how I used to love writing my few lines, as I do al=o now. Last Wednesday morning one of your band, Dolorosa, was married in the Presbyterian Church. She' looked very sweet and charming, as befitted a happy bride. The bowling season was opened that afternoon, and I am in the group that was taken; I think there are four D.L.F. in that group. Yesterday the boating season wa» opened, and a regatta was held. The day was perfect, and I was out on the lake in the motor launch Wairoa, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Xj| musical comedy "My Sweetheart" was played by the local Dramatic Society the night of ISovember 9, and was a great success. It vis p.'ayed to a very good house. The touiiat season has commenced, and the place already is beginning to put on a livelier air. Quite a number of visitors are in the place, enjoying the life-giving breezes. I can't describe any books I have read, for I've only read U\o books through since I came up here, and they were rather trathy. Msgazmes take the place of books to aae,

and I sew in my spare time. We had a sale of work in connection with the church, and for four months I sewed all I could for it, so I had very little time for heavy reading. I could write on. and on, dear Dot, being in a letter-writing mood, but I must not be too selfish. I feel already that I have encroached too much on your valuable space. I hope to see old familiar names in this number. Hoping it will be a success, and with love to all, including yourself, — Yours truly, ARETA.

[This is the first I have heard of your prospective change, ATeta ; I hope you will like Canterbury very much when you settle there. It will be very pleasant for you to see something of the neighbouring province. You have had a long enough time in Queenstown now to know it thoroughly and to have benefited in health by its fine air ; now you will 6ee a totally different district. You will be living where there is hardly a hill in sight, unless on clear days you get a view of the Alps. My best wishes go with you.— DOT.]

Dear Dot,— Old "Writers' Week! What a host of pleasant memories entwine themselves around those three little words! As the years go by I feel an increasing gratitude io -Lad-die for suggesting this annual reunion, which enables us "old buffers" who are debarred by age from participating in the privileges of active correspondents, but who still remain D.L.F. at heart, to meet and chat together over old times. I wonder how many of our old chums will remember thepage to-day, and avail themselves of this opportunity to write and tell us how they are faring on Life's journey? There are names that we seldom hear mentioned now, but we do not forget them. Deep in out memories we hold them securely, and we are conscious of a thrill of pleasure when chance items of news concerning the welfare of their owners reach us from some ""quar ter. But there aTe some that we never hear anything of. They seem to have quite drifted away from us, and as each succeeding O.W.W. comes round we seek for their names in vain. Therefore I am hoping that Old Writers' Week this year will have its surprises for us, and that we shall see letters signed by writers who have been long absent from the page, but Whose names in the good old days were "familiar in our mouths as household words." Still it is a pleasing reflection that a great number- of our best old writers remain loyal to the page, and we can depend upon hearing from them each year with unfailing regularity. I still read 1 and enjoy the letters to the D.L.F. Page, anh feel a whole-hearted sympathy for those little ones whose letters sometimes appear minus a footnote from Dot. Now I think all old writers will agree that in the days of their active connection with the page more than haJf the charm of writing to Dot lay in the little foot-note at the bottom of each letter. Dot's anew«r always more than compensated for the trouble of writing, and we always felt, in Wullie's woTds, that Dot was "oor true frien' an' guidin' star." Now, I don't want our present Dot to form theimpression that I am a grumbling fellow, for I know how miich -Work she has to do, and 'how precious space is, but if she could only manage to .beguile the stern editor into granting her sufficient space to add ft little foot-note to each letter the D.L.F. would •appreciate it -ever so much, and would take a d-eetier and moTe whole-fiearted interest in the page. On the whole, the contributors nowadays seem to be much younger ihan those of a few years 1 since, and if we aresometimes inclined to think the page less interesting now than in the old days, we should remember that the present-day writers are mostly little children. They are doing* their best now, and if they remain loyal to Dot (as I am sure they intend doing) and write regularly they will be grand writers some day. At the same time it is a great pleasure to see occasional letters from older writers such as Edievale, Anthea, Eulalie, pnd others. lam pleased, Dot, that so many of the D.L.F. are taking an intelligent interest in natural history, and are learning to observe the habits of Nature's creatures. A love of these things helps us to banish loneliness in solitary places. Some of the letters appearing during the past few weeks have been of great Interest. We have been almost six months in the North Island now, and though working fairly hard, we have contrived to enjoy ourselves very much. At present we are camped upon the banks of the Manawatu River, at Waikopiro, about nine miles from I -innevirke. Of courEe I always look out for badges and the Witness smile, but they are by no means so plentiful heie as in the South Island, an<l uatil the present I have only m-et one D.L.F.. and she is an «x-Souihlaiwler (Darky), now living in Dannevirke. I am writing this letter upon, the evening of election day, and no doubt excitement will be running high in the cities. But here in the bush it is very quiet. This afternoon we walked a total distance of 12 miles to exercise our rights as citizens of the Dominion. (We are hoping to carry prohibition in tlie Waipawa «l*ctorttie ) As we tramped through the bush to Matamau, where the nearest polling booth was. Whittier's fine lines seemed to be in the thoughts of each : » j "The proudest now is but my peer, The highest not more high, To-day, of all the weary year, A king of men am I. To-day alike are great and small, '■ The nameless and the known, Mv palace is the people's hall, The ballot-box my throne!" It gave each of us such a feeling of inde- ; pendence to think that "The wide world had not wealth to buy The power in his right hand!" Xow, dear Dot, as I hope there will be a large muster of old writers, I ehall not encroach further upon your space, but before concluding I wish to tell The Last Rose of Summer how much we appreciated her unselfishness in sharing her birthday cake with us who are 600 miles away. With love to all the V.L.t'!, — Yours tru'y, BLACK WATCH. [Why do I hesitate, Black Watch, as I take my pencil to write a foot-note to your letter? It is very certain you must have one, alter your little suggestion about foot-notes; but my pencil does not seem sure what it is to be. Hay« you ever found that a very good understanding between friend 9 sometimes makes words difficult, or, at any rate, unnecessary? Perhaps that is why I have nothing to say on any particular subject. But we are all so glad to have you with us this time ; you have taught us by your unflagging interest to count on you, and we are satisfied when you come. — DOT.[ Dear Dot, — Just «fter Aorere and I settled ourselves very comfortably on the timber trolley, the engine, puffing importantly, gathered speed, and we were off on our journey into the bush. It was a. sunny day. with a fresh wind blowing, and we rattled along the iron-railed tramway, past Eettlers' homes, ploughed fields and grass paddocks, inanuk*. scrub and tussocky ridges, past cattle that watched us for a moment, then went on with the serious business of eating, while at times a startled rabbit scurried to its burrow. Now we are travelling along i the nver flats, with tb« Pourftkino River

quite close, and the Longwood and snoi»capped Takitimo ranges overlooking us from the distance. We soon rea-ch the bush, and are shut in by tall birch trees and a tangle of smaller shrubs. A bellbird calls from •the silent bush occasionallj . Aorere sings , softly to the accompaniment of -the hardworking little engine, and I wonder how many more miles we hare to go. We look ahead, »nd there, gleaming through the trees, ia the iron roof of the mill. We have arrived during -the dinner hour, and everything is 9ilent and deserted. There goes the whistle: the men arrive, a-nd we are stared at with interest, for visitors are something of a rarity. Starting time arrives, end we are shown how s big log is turned into timber. First it goes "to the breaking-down bench, where the saws go humming through it, cutting it in pieces small enough for the sawyer to handle. He cuts these pieces into boards at another saw, and though I watched him for a considerable time, I don't know yet how. 'he makes the boards so straight and long and thin. The planing machine was even more surprising. A rough board was put in, then whizz — whir-r-r-r — and out it came, tongued and grooved. Grouped about each mill are several weatherboard houses with wooden chimneys, and I'm still wondering why a wooden chimney does not burn down the very first time «. fire is lit in it. Men, women, and children all live here, doing their useful work away in the heart of the birch bush. A household washing, hung on the line to dry, gave an unexpected and homely touch to the scene. We saw also the famous " grandfather's " chimney, — wooden too — but famous on account of its size. I thought then that any grandfather could find room for mil Bis sons and grandsons to gather round that hospitable hearth ana still have room left for a few friends. Since then Luoeda and I have sat 'beside our " Longwood Blossom " at that very capacious fireplace, and there was room for many L.F. to sit beside us and tell wonderful stories, while the fir© glowed bright and red, and the sparks flew up " grandfather's chimney." Reluctantly we climbed into a loaded trolley for the return journey. Birch trees keep guard all along the tramway, and spread their branches high above our heads. The bright green leaves of the mistletoe showed in clusters against the dark birch trunks. Brown, fern-edged creeks wander in and out among the trees. Very reluctantly we leave the green stillness of the bush and come out to the open country, " Black Bess " puffs away, and here we are at our stopping place. Our good-byes and thank-yous are lost in the noise made by the little black engine «s she rattles off briskly to her destination. As we walk home together we watch the sun setting behind the Longwood Hills, and think of the busy mills away -back in the birch country. With kindly remembrances to all the writers whose cheery letters brightened the days for me years ago, and with grateful affection to Dot and all my known And unknown friends,— Yours truly, SHASTA. [Thank you for a, happy little sketch of a day from your busy life, Shasta. Your consequential little engine and the prolonged wail of the saw as it saws its way through the heart of the forest come keenly to me as I read, and your letter is redolent of the soft warmth of our birch forest and the kindliness and fragrance of the sawdust. This is one of those days that detach themselves from our ordinary lives, and stand' salient and apart, — the day 3 that our «ye catches when we reach the summits beyond, and look back. There is just such a. day in the tablets of my memory tco, Shasta. — DOT.} Dear Dot, — Wherever one goes nowadays the familiar badge is to be met with. Why, I wasn't many hours in New Plymouth before I met quite a number wearing the silver monogram. I had not courage enough to let my features broaden out into . th© Witness smile, so I em still wondering who they were. That's noith. Dowd south «nd at all intermediate stations the badge is so well known that if one obeyed the old rule to smile at the wearer, the einile from Lyttelton to the Bluff would b© perpetual. So much for badges : now as to writers themselves. At Maidie's invitation I recently spent a delightful holiday at her sylvan home in Lawrence. I use the adjective advisedly ; there was something so delightfully woody about its surrounding hills and trees that one felt keenly the presence of the Nymph, the Naiad, and the Grace. While there I met our old comrade, Awkward Ned. Th© country air seems to agree with him; he was in fine form and spirits. I was admiring Maidie's wee Elsie, the dearest, sweetest baby that <jver was. — you niay be sure of that. "Ah!" said Ned, "have you fallen in love with her too?" Then while I was endeavouring 10 hide my blushes, he added, " Hay, Biondel, how many sweethearts have you got now?" I had a sweet letter from Shasta, and was glad to hear that my old club was doing so well ; but how could it be otherwise with such active members as Lola and Shasta! In anticipation of a- great gathering of old writers, I hereby conclude. With kind wishes to all, I remain, as «ver, — Youra truly, BLONDEL. [The very fact of ther© being a letter from your pen, Biondel, will reassur© some of jour friends, whom you do not have time to write to, on a matter of which you have modestly not touched. Possibly you think that your health cannot be, of any great interest to those who read your letters. I assure you it is; and we are all very glad" indeed that it has improved so remarkably the last few months. From the bottom of our hearts we wish you continued steady improvement in it —DOT.] OLD WRITERS. Where have the children gone to— The littio folk we knew In olden tin of gladness To purs© tueir brows and screw Their elbows o'er the table. Writing, dear Dot, to you? We deemed them real children, Writing of plain and stream, Of rocky vale and mountain, Of morn and twilight gleams. So raptly they described — we said, " They write m a- Jar.d of drearne." Down in the southern twilight, Far in the northern cape, By western slope and eastern height These dreams of their took shape. They wrote of frozen plains, and fieldl That nursed the sunny grape. The land remains they wrote of, The blue g.ea breaks upon No fairer earthly isles and gladt The sun still shines that shone Upon their v«.les and mountains, — But where have the children gone? Their lead- we gladly followed— Discovered mount and stream, Then did we seek the children— Our children; but it seems Only th© isles were real. They Were children oi a dreamt — Bloicdii* Dear Dot,— This is th* second Old Writers' Week I have had the privilege of writing for. Another mile-stone has been passed on life's highway,— another page of life's book

T Htihed over. The year thai has gone since last O.W.W. has brought me many kind D.L.F. friends, and left me many pleasant recollections and sweet memories of happy hours spent in D.L.F. company. The unpleasant thought will haunt me that after all I have not done as much as I could: and should for the D.L.F. Page in return fox the pleasure I neve received through the medium of the D.L.F. kingdom. I know our kindly Dot will view mv shortcomings leniently, but I feeL ashamed of my year's record of work for the page. I am looking forward to seeing many old familiar N.D.P.'a during O.W.W. During the past year many of our best writers have passed through the portals of womanhood and manhood, leaving behind for ever the happy days of childhood. A word in your ear, comrades: your future life will be largely what you make it. It will be jshaped not by your worldly circumstances," but by the atmosphere which will eurround your inner and real life. If your highest ambition is your own persona? glorification «nd Advancement, you need noa expect to find xeal, abiding peace, and happiness. Instead, you will find on. your upward way that life is hard and life is bitter, and! " all that glitters is not gold." Some time ago I noticed in the .report of a meeting of the Dunedin D.L.F Club that a majority ouli of 19 had decided that life was not worth living. I was filled with amazement. Tha majority out of 19 young folk, none of! them long past the portals of youth, found! life not worth living! Young men and* women, with life just opening out before* them, and Hope with smiling, beauteous face to beckon them on, — surely they wer* not really and truly^^n earnest! No! — no! dear Dot; it" was an idle jest, — the outcome of an idle, frivo&us mood. Immediately; afterwards a letter appeared in the D.L.F. Page remarking on this decision, and agkw ing some to write and contradict such views. Now, Ten O'Clock, I have passed many more mile-stones than most of those who write to the page t and I can assure you I ha-ve never found a period in my life where life was not worth living. This with all truth and sincerity. I have lived through dark: age and sad days, but always found there was someone who needed my love and care. On the darkest flbty the sun shone and the birds sang, and love whispered sweet messages in my ear, while duty firmly but kindly, pointed upwards and onward. Yes, life is worth, living to those who, " live and work for the benefit of others, not ourselves." What a glorious motto! Repeat it over and over again to yourselves, comrades, until year heart and mind become- imbued with, •the golden truth it contains. " For others, not ourselves!" It is always ourselves we grieve most for. "To the «unny soul that is full of hope, And whose beautiful trust ne'er faileth, The grass is green and the flowers axe bright, Tho' the wintry sky prevaileth. Better to weave in your web of life A bright and a golden filling, And do your best with, a ready heart, And hands that are swift and willing, Than to snap the delicate silver thread* Of our curious lives \ asunder, And then, blaming fate for the tangled ci T» # Sit and grieve and wonder. —(Selected;. I am so pleased to see both clubs pio--gressing so favourably. What golden opportunities they 'afford retired members of retaining an interst and connection with the> D.L.F. kingdom. Many retiring express deep regret upon bidding farewell to Dot* and the page, dan we believe their regreti at leaving us real when they immediately cease to take any practical or living interest in club or page, behaving as though with; their retiring letter they also severed themselves from all connection with club or page?) Comrades, be honest; do not express gratitude and regret which you .do not feel, but' gladden Dot's heart and also the faithful' few who so bravely and loyally struggle to keep the clubs and page interesting, devoting many hours to doing so. Dear Dot and comrades, excuse my bringing the clubs so often to your notice, but the clubs have a very warm place in my heart and interest, especially when I remember how faithful lyj and strenuously our club members are working to make them successful. Hai!, Jessica, Maidie M., Blondel, Cereß. Black Watch !i I greet you to-day with warmest greetings;) some of you I have met in flesh and blood,and felt the warm pr-essure of your friendly; .hand-clasp. Blondel I met on paper. Black Watch I only know by his interesting letters to -the page. But though our faces be far, apart, our hearts will go out towards each? other this week in hearty greetings. a. merry Christmas to you all and a bri"V<* happy New Year!— Yours truly, LOL_. [Your ardent .pleading for our two clujs, Lola, will, I doubt not, show its -effect verjj shortly in an increased number of paper* from members who have been, perhaps inclined to let their interest in our doings wane a little. You yourself have been * most consistent supporter of the southern/ cl-ub since you joined us, and I know your influence there has been felt. I know alaa that many young people will be glad ifi some day you can find time -and leisure tor tell us another story like "Margaret Lee." She was a little girl who found her w*y. *° many D.L.F. hearts, and the- inquiries for her have- been numerous. — DOT.] Dear Dot,— lt is with just a smile and a kindly word of greeting I have come to m«et my dear friends of the dear old days— ha-ppy childhod days, gone never to return., The memory still clings, and to a certain* extent helps to lessen the sorrows which we meet on Life's pathway. I always look uponOld Writers' Week as a chapter from tha past. Many of our older comrades have now children of their own, who, I am sure, wilß be brought up to look with pleasure on the D.L F. Page. Amongst the benedicts are al? my old correspondents, including- Oamaru-ite, Snow. Ziaka. Maidey, Nipper. Captain Jackson Barry — oh, and ever so many more. But I think one of the saddest events itf : the history of the D.L.F. Page was the unexpected death of our dear and popular comrade Camellia I, to whose bereaved relatives my heart goes out in sympathy, and I any sure all our comrades share my feelings. Dear Dot, I intended giving an account of my trip to the Oamaru show, but as I have not been quite myself since then I shall pass it over. At any rate, the show was * slow affair. In fact, the best part wax »- show I had all to myself coming home next morning The wind was raging fnriously, and I had to battle through it, dragging my. bicycle; but when I got to a .piece of leveS ground I tried to ride. I didn't get far whett a gust of wind caught me sideways, and H dont know what really happened, but I escaped with a. twisted ankle, which is rather; «*re yet, and is somewhat affecting my temi per. And now, <iear Dot, I have lingered! I longer than I intended to. In the ttonoI tonous life I lead in the back-blocks little ever happens of interest, but I hope to see the usual number of good interesting letters I which usually appear in O W.W. Farewell, comrades. With love and kindly greetings to one and. all, not forgetting my dear friend Hike, who is still far across the sea — Your* truly, GIULTA. (Canteen;. P.S. — Many of my correspondents will won- ! dcx why I am no' jmsvrcring ihcir letter*.

I shall try to write soon and explain the ' dslay, but, I cannot possibly keep up the large number I have at present, as to do so •would mean taking' ap all my spare time — and probably some that is not spare — in letter-writing. Since January 1 of this present year I've written to no fewer than 62 different L.F.. and most of these would like to keep up the correspondence ; but it is too much to expect, chums, isn't it? for I have other correspondents outside the D.L.F. •world. Now, if you don't hear from me, chums, it will not be, due to negligence or thoughtlessness, but through pressure of time ; you will understand- that, won't you ?—? — OIULIA. : [I am so glad yon came to join us to-day, though I gather from your private note to me that you were feeling aisheartened at the time, and hardly inclined to write at all. I know that you have already learnt how to present a brave front to petty adversities, and the thought of 'you. Giulia, has sometimes cheered me on when I have not been inclined to take things courageously. It is such a grand thing rever to give way— to eet one's teeth, with smiling lip 3, if possible, and refuse absolutely to go under "Will you fc» able to go on?— DOT.] J)ear Dot,— "Old Writers' Week has b«en fixed for the second week in December"! Why, it suTely cannot be 12 months since m last foregathered! And yet I suppose it must be so, else why this reminder? v Well, >**> be sure, how time does fly! It seems /barely a few weeks «ince I last wrote to Old "Writers' Week, and yet, and yet — well, on casting my mind I>ack over the interim, it sdoe3 appear that I have met with more ihappenings l than could have occurred 1 within •a few weeks. "A short account of some of any doings, or treat 'any subject I choose." •Well, well, that seems open enough, and one should surely not have much difficulty in finding at least a few thing's to say. Whether rJiey be interesting or not is for onr .leaders ■x> cay. But first I shou'd like to make a confession. Confessions are, like confections, of many kinds — good, bad, and indifferent. T?o which category mine belongs I cannot yet ■decide, and so I leave a decision on the 2>oint, if, indeed, it be worthy of such, to others, and more particularly to those whose greatest delight it is to hear and adjudicate, ■with all the wisdom of a Solomon, upon the shortcomings of their fellow-creatures. But 4© proceed. When, a few days ago, I received Jthe circular of invitation, I had grave doubts as to the acceptance thereof. I was not overburdened with inclination to do so, but *he fact that my time 'is somewhat limited weighed more with me tKan anything. However. I devoted a night's sleep ,to the matter, and after much consideration eventually concluded that I had a duty to .perform, the said duty being to write at 'ileast «. few lines to the annual gathering. t'Jlheie were several reasons which prompted one to this. The first was that the old— >th© really old — writers seem to be gradually, /but nevertheless surely, dropping out of view. ■This, to me, has a regrettable side,, and as a think I can rightly claim to be an old .•writer.- 1 deemed it desirable that I should not entirely drop out. Secondly, as Old Waters' ,"Week originated from a suggestion macie » ziumber of years ago by myself, it occurred JCo me that I -should do what little I could Ko help retain the success 'with which this gathering has been favoured in yeaTsr past. 'Tuastly, and this, perhaps, is what influenced cne more than anything, there- was the me■Tuary of our late beloved Dot,~and"*lso the thought of our present one. "- 1 thought of m. private letter I had written to the latter cjn a. time pf great eorrow, and in which I 3iad expressed my allegiance to her, and my •ieaire to render at all times what little assistance I could. Then my mind was made ■up. Hence ibis letter and my confession. . Wthen I made my last contribution *n this -page I -was sweltering in. Napier in the noonclay heat of "a brilliant summer's day. Since -then I have had 1 some strange journeyings in both islands. There are many queer hapipenings that befell -me, the relation of which would nc doubt be of some interest to those who <cad this. I could tell of an exciting 3hors« journey down the east coast of the •.North Island when I was caught on the •beach by the tide. I could tell of dangerous Toads, full of bog-holes, irapassaV.e only to •those mounted on ertrong horses; of landslips to be negotiated, of swollen .rivers to be crossed. I could relate how, one day, I aniseed a river crossing and swam the wrong stream, and became lost for seven hours in a North Island' bush. I could speak of a 36-mile cross-country ride through dense iush, $*11 manuka and high ferns I made, toeing the first stranger to have ever attempted it. I could tell of a particularly humorous experience o» the s.s. Arahura crossing from Wellington to Picton, and noiahxng would give me more pleasure than to iielate graphically how I travelled from Blen"leim to Ghriatehuich on a motor cycle. But these and many other experiences I wall re[luctantiy leave. alone, knowing that the call .©a this page will be great, and that space is not unlimited. Suffice it to say that, for i*^* , m * nt3l a now, I have held the oub- ! •ditors chair in a North Island morning i ?£ y pa ?t r ' and thtt * int « n| 2 remain ' there until my restless spirit compels me to SStLn"^' or .. Uaiil T T ™ offered a bM:er pontoon. Sometimes I have vague longings 'i T^T to ,t, th * nth l3land - I seldom see • southern face here, and one misses the .Jiendliness and the kindly hospitality for £2? «. -n g-°g -° 16 are throughcut the Dominion. I had the pleasure. *£ •^J^f t*°; <? fc «™ my friend -faequin, of the Otago Witness, and I have iqn several occasions met other friends «nd acquaintances, but I have never met one of the L..F. I hope, at a date x not far distant to journey south, when I trust to meet many fc^'^i' 0 reMW old friendships Ontil that date, then, this brief letter must T^wT* i nn€ctin g l«ik of fellowship. 41, TT £ c thlß opportunity of greeting all the old writers assembled, by virtue of their Jrespectiya pens, at a great gathering, and I extend to them words of welcome and pleai^ffi^L&^gW, w "» »»■' __.. , LADDIE, tw*!?™ f or gr°tten, you will see sf« 'i to * « a I c * letter from y°« to-day £ e h» M i P * b^ When you told ™ you lime during the coming year.— DOT.] Dear Dot,— Our annual reunion of old comTtuSes Jias lgMn«,me xormd. and in response to your invitation I have availed "myself of the opportunity to once more appear in your page. The great question is what to writ* about: but I shall try and give an account of how I have passed th& time . since laet O.W.W. Aa .1 suppose the

' April I became i country girl (at least, from Monday to Friday), and was compelled to relinquish my active connection with the Dunedin Club. I was sorry for this, but it is not convenient for me to get up^ to town on Tuesdays. Without mentioning 'the name of my present place of abode, I will explain that it is not a dozen miles from Dunedin, and despite the fact that whenever you go out you must climb hills, it is a very pleasant place to live in. Indeed, the hills really constitute the chief •attraction, though -they are w&arisome to climb; yet ' the exertion is paid for by the view ' when you reach the -top. Fox the benefit of our comrades that live in and around Dunedin, and therefore will know the district, I will give some idea of the extent of the view. On the one side we can see the harbour up past Raven sbourne, just missing Dunedin, becauEe the bay takes too big a sweep inland. In the opposite direction w-e can see Warrington. Seacliff, Waikouaiti, etc., as far north as the ;airn erected to the memory of the kite "Sir John M'Kenzie. We can see right across the Peninsula, and watch the south-going steameraafter they pass the Heads. From a point some distance along the road from us you can see the ocean right .found the Peninsula to St. Clair. This will give you some idea of the magnificent view we enjoy; but written descriptions cannot do justiceto the beauty lying around us on «very side. An artist would eimply revel in the wealth of material at hand, and the water alone would fire an ordinary person with the desire to commit some paxt of it to paper, and carry ii with him. I think one of the prettiest sights I have seen was that of an outgoing steamer just after dark. The lights on board looked like so many star 3, and shone brilliantly out of the surrounding darkness, forming a perfect picture. The varying degrees of climate are very clearly exemplified here, and the difference in everything is marvel.ous. Each individual thing assumes different proportions ia different weather. To-day, for example, -is perfect. The water is blue, clear, and smooth, scarcely a ripple disturbing its even surface. On a morning like this, as you come down from the hilltop over a green, velvety carpet of grass, dotted with the " wee crimson tippit flower," the sight of which recall* Burns to my mind, the sunshine and spring feeling seems to get right into your reins, and you cannot help experiencing the joy of merely living. .IThe native bush flowers soent the air with sweetness, and you are ■ provided with buttonholes without money I and without price. A little while ago the £V>lden bells of the kowhai, with their feathery leaves, were much in evidence, then the starry clematis and sweet-smelling flowers of the bu3h lawyer. Just now the banks are decked with marguerites and golden buttercups, and the trailing sprays of woodbine and the sweet-smelling ribbonwood make the air heavy with their scent, j Here and there the pretty pink flowers of | the makomako make a pleasant change from the white and green of the other trees. The birds make happy melody as they flit from tree to tree, and everything tells you that spring has come. Beneath you, in the harbour, all is calm and still, the hills of the Peninsula reflected in the water forming a magnificent picture. I could write till to-morrow, I think, if I were to describe all that one sees to admire on a fine day, but if I wish to give you a change of climate I must hurry on. The scene then is changed — dark lowering clouds scud across j the sky, the sea beneath looks green and j angry, the cliffs loom out of the fog with a grim and threatening aspect, and you hasten to put on strong boots and your thickest coat before venturing out. The green velvet ! carpet to-day is " that horrid wet grass," j and the poor little daisies lie battered and beaten by the storm. Even on a wet day, though, there is something to admire. As long as you are not wet through you can actually enjoy the fierceness of the storm. The surf dashes up and gives you a shower bath of spray as you pass along. Everything smells fresh and beautifui, and you plod diligently on, telling yourself that the larmers *t least .will be pleased to get the rain. The sea, though not so beautiful as when it is calm and blue, yet cannot be passed by without notice. Its grandeur aiid strength are rather awful to contemplate as it dashes wild.y up against the rocks and breaks upon them in fury. I am alraid that this does not give you much of an idea j as to the beauty of the country but one needs to experience each individual day calm and sunshiny, calm and cold, wmdv but warm, and, .«st of all, windy cold, and wet before one can realise what difference of climate means, and how much people's temper and their outlook upor life depend on the weather Xow, dear Dot, I could W "^ if j l 0?" some considerable time, but must bid adieu, and leave room for someone to the length of O.W.s' letters —Yrurs tiu y EMERALD." [So Emerald's hues have falJeu in Pleasant places, and she has come to her -Aew Zealand heritage of beauty! Well the realisation of it is one of the happiest thm-n you could have, dear Emerald" ,t is such an abiding possession There ii no nee d to wor,d« if the past year h,s ma d c you haopy -the happiness "loads itself," « s *£* fS^nTeTali-DOlV 01 " "^ *"» « present place I have only had the pleasure of meeting tuo DhF. comrades, and these u me - £ l lhe rscon t Ashburtou A and P show. If v were net for the regular appearance of the Witness I am afrarf I sWd ll'^x. A exiSlence <> f the DLF Page of that highly-esteemed journal. Some of my friends will be thinking that the old proverb Out of sight, out of mind," could be applied to me for the slack v.-ay in which I have communicated with them. The sole topic in Canterbury this month is the Chrutchurch Carnival Week, extending from November 7 to the 14th, and the general ajid local option polls. "'Are you going to free the Cup?" or "Are you going to°the show?" or "Shall we carry no-license?" are the chief subjects of conversation. It seems to be a general thing up here for most people wirh sporting inrtincts to take a trip to 'Christchurch for the Carnival, and a certain class of people, when once there, settle themselves down for a royal time. Chri=tchurch. or rather New Zealand. Cup Day seems to be becoming more popular each succeeding year; and., judging by reports from persons who were there, and from press reports, thi3 year's function eclipsed all premous records, both as regards the attendance and high-ela=s sport After the excitement of Cuo Day, the people settle down to t.he n ore matter-o£-fact and studious things in tlio way of the Metropolitan A and P. show, 'lhis year's show ivas a record, and on People's Day the grounds presented an appearance that "sn'l linjjer long m the mind's of tho?e" present The ppnng-hke clay, the beautiful dresses of the ladies, the vre!]- | groomed appeprsnee of the men. the ahundant supply of ready money, and the perfect exhibition of the agricultural industries and pastoral pursuits eeemed to everybody ia their best holiday mood, aad coamueatly

T a pleasant day was spent by everyone present. I Passing from the more serious part of the j show, we pause to hear -what the showman has to say to beguile the attentive crowd to enter into his "palace of pleasure and my - ' tcry." Every kind of patron was catered for in a variety of ways ; to catch the shil- | ling or even the humble "sprat" was the object of these open-air nomadic vendors of pleasure. The wave-like motion of the "ocean wave" seemed to possess great fasci* nation for the younger members of both sexes, and the swing groaned with young maidens more than once during the day. The oldtime game of "Aunt Sally," in charge of a gentleman who monotonously chanted the invitation to "Hit 'em on the 'cad; c's got no friends! 1 ' seemed to receive a fair share of patronage. Again, there were the cheapjacks, selling "gold" rings- for one shilling (no carat mentioned), and to give away half a dozen silver spoons (silver was emphasised as a further argument in favour of seller). He explained that they were 'all-marked (should be "hall-marked"), and all the crowned heads in the Dominion would be proud to have 'em. The "noble art of selfdefence" was ably illustrated by a trio of men with very prominent muscular development. The gentleman in possession of the money-bag seemed to be more of a Hercules than his companions, and, judging by the way the coins rolled in, he was well adapted for the position. Altogether, the side-shows were varied and various. Merry-go-rounds and "ocean waves" whisked hundreds through the air at a giddy pace ; boxers boxed and wrestlers wrestled, to the delight and amusement of those who had the money to spare. Bands produced sounds of harmony and discord ; barrel-organs groaned out "On the bonnie banks of Loch Lomond" and other popular tunes ; phonographs squeaked out the latest record direct -from Edison's factory ; the exhaust and banging of engines combined with the- yelling_of the showmen, and the hum of the crowd dovetailed"" neatly into the wondrous harmony of sounds and sights that the day produced. Very soon Christmas and New Year will be on us, and the season of festivity and good-will will be claiming our attention. A merry Christmas and a happy New Year! These are two comprehensive wishes which we offer to all our friends with all confidence during the merry festive season in this glad and prosperous Dominion. English poets are always trying to be content with shivering. "At Christmas I no more desire a rose That wish a. snow in May's new-fangled birth,'.' saya Shakespeare, in the sour-grape mood, since he was doomed never to see how merrily Christmas smiles upon the happy faces of New Zealanders, surrounded by whole gardens of lilies and roses. To the younger members) of our band I wish then* all good wishes and & special piece of Christmas cake ; to the older members, the right Christmas card from the- right place, with other gentle privileges most seasonable. Once more, then, I wish you, readers and contributors, both past and 1 present, the members of our debating clubs, and Dot herself a rnferry Christmas and a happy New Year. — Youxs truly, HAPPY WAG. [Thank you for your good wishes, Happy Wag: a writer with a cheerful N.D.P. like yours ie the very one to spread abroad some sunshine at Christmas — indeed, at all times. I think we are all beginning to understand and appreciate more the value of cheerfulness ; have you ever noticed how much more literature there is on it now than there was even a few years ago? American writers, especially, exhort us to "wear a smile." I, for my part, always feel grateful to the people who go abotit their business looking happy— don't you?— DOT.] Dear Dot,— l thought I would write just a short letter for 0.W.W., for the sake of " auld lang syne." It is close on five years since I penned my farewell letter to our dear oM page. How the- time flies! It seems only like yesterday that I wrote that letter— but there now, I am giving myself away by telling how many years it is! Tim© waits for nobody, and I suppose we cannot always remain the same age, can we, Dot? I have oLe consolation, in any case, and thafis that I am "the baby of the family, so I will always feel young. I always intended writing for 0.W.W., but put it off each time tiy it was too late. I, started i two or three times to write, but somehow ! the letter always reached the flames. Mine ! never was a very »hle pen and i wiote ':jut seldom. Although I d:d not very often I took a deep inteiest in the page, and still do. But I did my best. Dot, and one can do no more, can ere? I like reading the lettsra from th-e wee tots, and I think what splendid writers they will be some day in the near future Some fee' inclined to laugh at their letters, and think the page not half so interesting as it u*ed to be, bat I say " lrde a wee " We mn-t all make a beginning Since last I wrote there have been many changes in our page Our late ".Dear Dot" h«*> leit us, but I think I am safe ;ii saving that our new Del will Le as dear to the hcaits of the Lnt'e Folk as he was. I am cily cue among many, 1 am sure, who can speak of the bciefit leceivcd through writing to the page- During my few years' siler.ee I have not been fettled in one place very ong Moat of my t:mc is spent either in Ifosp-iel. Brighton, or Taieri Beach. I have xhre° houses, as it were I en at Taieri Beach at prp-ciii It is rather a pretty place m the cummer, but oh,_ so dreary in wintei ! I find :t veiy, very" quiet at any tnno. after being u&ed to town and ilosjfiel. I have abundance of time to myself while I am up here. I often wander about on the rocks and wonder sometimes v. hat the peculiar things aie I find there I had no idea there were such queerlooking things growing in the rocks before. I feel rather frightened wandering by myself on the locks, as there are so many blood-f-uckers about I can get -any amount of seaurchins and staifi=h up this way. I had a collection, but gave mo^ of them away to my town friends and relations. I like watching the different birds also. There is one espc-cia ly I would like to know the name of, perhaps some of our readers may be ab!e to tell me it. It is abji't the size of a thrush, rmd its back, wings, and tail are bright green Its breast i* a light brown, and it has a black head, with white rings round its eyes. I 'aw two of them. They are such pretty birds, and lovely whistlers. I hope someone will 'i>e able to tell me its name I had i chat with Alys not long ago. She was out at home for a few week = , whi'e her boat was in the dry dock, so the dropped in to fee m,-» one night, but I was not at home when she arrived I came m just as my big brother was go.ug to prepare supper. Her siater and brother were with her, and they did smile when I arrived on th» scene. She is just the same happy-go-lucky old girl as she used to be. It is a few years sine« I met her last. I suppose f=iie -will "be cut en xlie mif^iity Wloep at present, or perhaps her boat has anived in London ere thi9. I think fbe must be a bit like myself, rather neglectful, as I seldom tee a letter from her. Or rather, she was fcaying she felt old age coming on, like me , t but I think neither of U3 need talk of that • for », few veaia x«t. I hope ike Ola Writer/}

1 will waken up this time and send in a goodly number of letters. Can I, as an 0.W., send my photo, in for a group? If so. I may send it in for the next group. I am thinking of walking out to Akatore one day this week. It is about eight miles, I think. Some say I can't do it in two hovirs, but I think I will; at least, I am going to -try. I will now have to draw this scribble to a full stop. I am sending this letter in rather early, but I know if I put it off any longer where it will end. I must now conclude, with love and best wishes to Dot and all the D.L.F. band and once more sign myself,— Yours -truly, PORTIA. [Your letter contains a suggestion that I think we might perhaps put into" practical effect for next 0.W.W., Portia. It -would be interesting if we could manage to have » photographic group of some of our Old Writers published the same week a3 their letters, wouldn't ii? I must make si note of it, and intimate a few weeks in advance how acceptable- photos, would be accompanying their letters. I gather from your letter that this is the first time you have sent in a letter for O.W.W. I am so very glad you have done it now, end hope it -will be but the first of many. I am glad "also to have the news oi Alys. I am sure many older D L..F. will be interested to hear it, especially as there is no letter from her this time. — DOT.] Dear Dot, — Again I pen the words, and again memory recalls the thousand and one events which seemed to crowd "themselves into the few years of my D.L.F. activities — pleasant and unpleasant, they all crowd back. How happy • humanity could be if it lived only in hope — hope for^ the future, hopes for the ideal and "the impossible. Oh! the heights ambition scales, and the castlea bui.t in youth, — how rudely other folk tumble them over as if playing ninepins! Yes, tie dreams of youth and the realisations of manhood : what a- deep valley divides the two. How different life seems! Why! when I was 15 years of age I had everything planned so neatly — a clear, straight road to pass along to fame and position — all seemed so easy, such straight sailing ; everything seemed ahead, all to come in its good time. And now? Though some time has elapsed, the goal, the ideal, the fulfilment of an ambition seems as fax off as ever, the read more rugged, and the attaining more difficult. Is it disheartening, and if so, should it be ? " No, not a bit of it," as a onetime good debater in the Dunedin Club would have put it. It is the more stimulating, the more worthy of accomplishment Surely {he value and the enjoyment of the fulfilment of an ambition is enhanced proportionately to the difficulties to be contended with. And" so may things over be the harder to attain, the greater the value of the attainment. But I did not intend this note- to run into even this short lengthit was merely intended as a means to be with you -to-day, to renew old paper acquaintances, and to smile the " season's greetings to each one present. Ere long I hope to 1 renew some of those acquaintances personally, and have the pleasure of attending a meeting of each club What have Dunedin. D.L.F. done? Why have they so neglected their club? To one who took a great interest in its welfare in the p» B t its present standstill is certainly bewildering And—dieappointing And now, with heartiest wiehea to one and all for a real merry - Christmas and the brightest, of New Years, let me stil! be, Dot,— Yours truly, AWKWAED NED [That you have not stood still, Ned, this letter itself proves Do you think you had reached such maturity of thought at 15? And you must never be disheartened by the •Ilf IOU1 OU JJ 1 *™ accomplished as compared with the dreams of your youth. I think perhaps a man 1S in gravest danger when he reaches his goal; it is » harder thing, but a more ennobling, to have a "divine disfor you tCV ihl ° U / h SolS 0 ' 1 •*«?! *i»h of ill VJ ?CW? CW dtetun ? ma y iake the Pl»ce this lettr" f am P"*"^"^ glad to have mis letter from you to-day. — DOT.] Dear Dot.-It has suddenly dawned upon me that if I do not hasten to take up my pen and write I shall miss thl chance of being with you all at our annual gathering. How quickly old Father Tinte wheels his chanot over the ground! I shoud T'2 i° Ye to catch «»at lock of his which flutters in the breeze, and sa> , "Hold fy friend; not so fast!" He really is in a desperate hurry. But we needn't grow old need we, Dot?-at leas.t, not in heart We can keep our child-hearts which catch the sunbeams and laughter of life, passing the thorns ajK l shadows lightly and merriJy by cv e n though Time does go relentlessly on.' Did you think, Dot. that I had altogether forgotten you? Although I was silent, I nad not ceased to think of you, and although my pen was put aside to give place to my ■needle, my love for it and for all my penlriends has never waned. And now to-day it is with a thnli of genuine pleasure that 1 greet you all I wonder how all mv comrades are faring' Just a word to "themkeep emiling, my chums— face the world with bra.ye, -nnhn- eyes. It isn't such a bad place flffc- al ' ,ou know, but it likes you to smi'e; and t'.iou^h it does turn round and c ne you r> queer okl krock "ocasionallv it still c:^sct, 3 on to keen uniling, and— we.l, it's more Fatisfactory to do so, and the people who smile have the best of it. And, my comrade?, don't get discourage! femmetimes our lives appear to us as utter failures, but, as Charles Kingsley says, "Xot all who seem to fail have failed : What though the seed be east by the wayside And the birds take it? Yet the birds are fed." To all those who wait ia vain for letters from me I tender my most profound apologies. To every one I send love and Christmas wishes. Tussock joins with me in wishing our O.W.W. every success. I had a letter from Nut the other week, and in it he told me that he had written a letter to the page, but on second thoughts had committed it to the flames. He is in far distant South America, but you see that memory still speaks to him of D.L.F.-land. Ah! time is kind after all, for it takes not from our sacred memories of "our Dot," but in an indescribable way makes them more precious, more tender. Love in p'enty clear Doi and comrades all, from — Yours truly. JESSICA [That i<= a very fond and affectionate greeting from our Jessica, with a wise lutie kernel in the heart of it. I have been speaking to someone e's=e to-day about the maxim ' K-eep en <-irnhng," so you v. ill know my opinion of it It sometimes takes a brave heart — as, for instance, when one has neuralgia in one'- face, a? I have at present. This time it is no credit to me if I "keep 01/ , smiling-." for it is your letters that bring the brightness I wish Xut bad sent us that letter, instead of e-onsjgmng it to the flames; it won'd have been so interesting to all his old friend? <o hear of his doings in South America However. I am very glad indeed to hear that he =>till thmk-j of us, P Wse s i^« him a warn greeting from me when you ieply.— DOT J Dear Dot, — Once again are we brousrht ir Icucli with each other through Old WriteTWeek. I am sure it has been looked iur.-. ar- 1 to by msuiy^ wid it will be pleasing w you

] to read and publish so many o! the familiar I letters. I still take great interest in the 1 £irF. Page, and I always look forward to my Witness every week. I sinceTely hope all [ the Old Writers will make a big effort to i make O. W.W. a success, although my letter, - I I suppose, -will not help much, I need I hardly comment on the success of the Invercaxgill B.L.P. Club, for the reports which are published prove its success. As for -the Dunedin Society, I would need to be in closer touch to pass an opinion about it, but, all the same, my sincerest wishes goout to both clubs. I wonder if the ImvercaTgill L.F. intend to hold their annualpicnio on Boxing Day? I -was Tather unfortunate last year in missing the picnic; it was unavoidable, as I had arranged for .another picnic before I knew of the D.LF. one. I see by last week's Witness that th« Invercargill L.F. had a picnic at Longwood on November 9. and it is stated in the report that they had a. good time in ■ spite of the rough day. I spent the 9th of November at the Bluff, having journeyed from this town on the Saturday previous by motor car. I spent a very enjoyable day, and was sorry to leave so soon again. On Wednesday, the 25th November, the annual cattle show is to be 'held here, and, given fine weather, it will be a decided success. Sir Joseph and Lady Ward, I believe are to be present also, so this place -will be lively again. The general election has been the cause of much excitement in this town, more especially over the nc-Jicenae question' The town wa» ' filled with, people, and on this special occasion the local brass band? put in an appearance and played some very nice pieces. The Tesults of the polling were made known to the people at about 10.46 p.m. While I was at .the Bluff I met my old chum Xi» Ora's Mate, and. we had a long chat. I wonder what has become of Eldergowan, Lillian 11. Cowslip, Primrose, and many others? With kindest regards to Dominion Princes* N. L. P.; and Star of Hope,— Yours truly, KIA ORA. [I knew there would be a letter from you, Kia Ora. Some day I hope you will follow it up with a little private one to myself, as I should have liked to hear how your motheT is. I suppose you fee* quite settled in your new town now. Or have. you by this time become unsettled again, and think it time to move on?— DOT.] > My dear 014 friends, — It is with much plea- , sure I join you with a hearty Christmas i cheer and a thorough New Zealand hand- | shake, for if there is one place 'on the face . of the earth where they know how to give you a grand oJd\ friendly grip, it is in New Zealand, — and I trust I find you all as well and happy as when I last shook hands with you across the ocean. I have only come to say a, few Wjords this time, for, like 0h« bird of passage, I am ever on the wing, but early in the new year I ami going to spring • lovely surprise upon you air in the shape of » delicious story, narrating a glorious i trip ■ I had abroad. I was hoping I could give it you for Christmas, but since my return there 'has been so much back work , | to attend to that I have not been able to give it as much as a glance yet. However, after I this busy season I shall put every moment into it, and when I send it across you will rejoice with me in viewing the sights and joining* in the experience I had during the four months I was away. In the meantime, dear old friends, forgive me if I am , brief, and believe me when I say my heart is full of a longing W H witb , you again. I can only say: I "Here's a smile far you, Dot,. I As sweet as the honey dew; ' Label it Forget-me-not. As true as the flower is blue. Pass it only to the dear old friends, To the members of otfr band;\ . To be one with them when joy attends, ; And one with* the 'hand in hand.' Let it not fade, tho' it travel far i Thro' the snows on my native shore; j But keep it for me a& bright as the star I That shone in the days of yore. . 1 will know it again, tho' it be in years I I chance to cross its track; And my heart will reioice ; in happy tears 1 I'll greet you when Igo back." ! —Yours truly, DAISY PRIMROSE. [This will be a very welcome letter. Daisy Primrose: there have been many inquiries for you during your absence. We shall certainly all look forward to that long account of your wanderings. I think it is very good of you to spare time from your busy life to ! send us such an account. Is there any 1 chance of your following it over yourself? That, would be a pleasant eurpnae, indeed.— i DOT.] I Dear Dot,-Wiat a slender hold: have on life! A few weeks ago • complexioned, laughing-faced lad of some seventeen summers came and with sparklfn| £* told me that he and a mate were dfam to Manly, where they faeant to "pitch camp" for the sumnasr. They had secured a site down TTreshwater way, . withrn sight and sound of the surf and feeing the fa? -flung Pacific. How happy he was about itV and what » time he meant to W Outside the smoky, stifling city confines, living the Bohemian "life, every morning <»*»«• ing to look into the bDUnds of haze where meet the two bines-sky and «*. jWeg put in ell the summer there" he .jubilantly said. Poor Jittle chap! It came ftbou. that he did not put in so long. Jesting on the fickleness of human nature, and knowing how speedily it tires of sights that once denied superb. I gave him three weeks m which to grow tired of surf and sea and sky. He didn't grew tired, and now he never will, for he has gone to where satiety is "jown no more. As he was crossing a bit ol beach the waves rushed in, pitiless and strong, and took him out. The waves Tecked not that the lad had ambitions that he meant to be a great electrician one day, that in earnest thereof he had fixed up an electric battery by which he had «-°ntriv«l to send " wireless messages ' around corners and through closed doors; that he had little sls ters who were on thei» way down *o apettd a day with their "big brother" and that there was a winsome brown-eyed girl woo — wall, the waves didn't care. With kindest regards to all. and bast wishes for a very hanov and prosperous future. — Yours truly, THE AUSTRALIAN LARRIKIN. [No. the waves never know the wealth they tak© from us. We know not ourselves what we lose cor gain by the death of our beloved, or what the dead themselves lose or pain, — but we- lay our trust and confidence at the feet of the Great Arbiter, who does know. " I pmile to think God's greatness flows around our incompleteness." The illumining of our ignorance is to come i through. His perfect knowledge ; till then, we walk by the light of faith.— DOT.] Dear Dot, — I read your request in the paper the other week about Old Writers' i Week, and so bave decided to write a short letter for it. Though lam not much of a ha.nd at tho Den myself. I hope to see a good muster of all our real Old "Writers — those 'vho used to take such an active part in all L V affairs in the past, and who now have ri-'ir^<l and taken up the more serious duties o' ii c. leaving their places vacant to be ft. led by the younger generation. We h*v» i>«£ having terrible gale* Intel/, vai, wrergr

thing is as dry as flint. The farmers are fell wanting rain, as the ground is bo hard they can do nothing with it. lam going for my holidays » fortnight before Christmas this year, so will probably be ia Dunedin during Old! Writers' Week. My sister «nd I are going to the Tai-eri for a few days to visit some old friends there. It ought to be very pretty just now. Have you ever been out there, Dot? It is a lovely plaoe in the cummer time: everything ia to fresh and green. The little Silverstream, -which causes co much damage in flood time, is one of the most beautiful little streams I nave ever seen. It has iovely basket willows all along its ~ banks, Kod tibe water i 9 as clear as crystaL I have spent many a quiet, happy hour beside it. TVlhen. tired out with work and worry, I have ta-ken a walk beside those clear, rippling waters, and felt refreshed and contented. From the Taieri we *re going into Dunedin, -where we hope to have a good time. The people will have recovered from the effects of the election by then. WEat 6 terrihle stir and bustle the election causes — people seem to lose their heads for the time being, and after it is all over they all settle down like quiet inoffensive human beings until the next time. I was disappointed that they did not get prohibition, but as weryone oan't get jgat what they want, some are doomed to disappointment. Christmas trill soon be round again., with all its gaieties; to me it does not seem any length of time since last Christmas. Well, dear Djot, I think this is all the news I can give you this time. Wishing you every euocese in your work, and hoping to see a good turnout of letters this year, better than there has ever been before, and from all ©ur old 1 favourite writers, I must bid you goodt-bye for another year. With best *of wishes to all my - old D.L.F. friends and yourself,— Yours truly, TTRSULA. [I am sorry you are to be disappointed over the. number of letters, Ursula, for I think they will all be oontai»3d in one "week's issue this time, and in previous years they have run into two, and even three. But perhaps. their quality And interest will make up for their small number. — DOT.J Dear Dot,— How swiftly the weeks and months roll by! It is indeed very true that "Time and tide wait for no man." Therefore the time has again arrived which enables the old esteemed members of our beloved band to meet together once more, to 'have * happy time a a we rally round our kind and noble leader. It is with a feeling of the deepest pleasure that I come among my comrades and, as it were, clasp each by the hand. I seem, to ba surrounded by so many merry light-hearted young folk, each one speaking of the benefit and pleasure lie or she 'has received from the dear old page. So I think you will all agree with me •when I say it is our duty to show our loyalty and gratitude to Dot in the proper way — namely, by living up to our motto. Each one of us must bear in mind thai there is much for us to do. We would do well to «ek ourselves the question. Are we doing •11 we can for the benefit and uplifting of onr fellow-men? By being a member of the JD.L.F. band we have a wide field of labour : -we get so many opportunities of doing good. Jfone of us can say there is nothing that we can do, for each of us is gifted with some talent, however small; and no one has any Tight to think that because he cannot do the great things which are beyond his power, lie need not do the small things that are within it. Life is made up of little-t hings. And if we would but pay more attention to the so-called "small 1 things," we would find that they would do much to make life brighter and better, not only for ourselves, but for those around us. There are such numbers of ways in which we can do many little acts of kindness, if we are but willing to do them. Every one of us should seek for come opportunities of doing good, and when they are sought for they will be found. We ought to learn well the value of opportunities, for they do not bide our convenience ; lor while we linger indecisive they are gone, and they do not often return. We should never put off an act of love, for we mny Tiever get the chance again. The best time to do a kindness is now, not to-morrow, ov next week! Someone has beautifully said. "I expect to pass through thi3 wor l^ but once. If, therefore, there be any kindness I can do for any fellcw-being, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it. for I shall not pass this way again." Well, dear Dot and "comrades, we -are drawing very near to Christmas, the time of "Peace on earth, good-will toward men." Christmas tells the first coming of Christ to earth •with rich blessings for a lost world. But only part of the joy came with the birth of Christ, and now we have the full joy in the knowledge that the Saviour has lived, obeyed, suffered, died, and risen again, and is ev«r •watching tenderly over us. In His love He showers so many rich blessings on up. Therefore we have much cause for great joy at Christmas, as we are reminded so nmch of the goodness of the Lord. Christmas is also a time when many friends meet; there are always some of those we love returning home to spend the happy season For tbe whole year many of our friends are parted from us. co of course we look eagerly forward to seeing them again. I will take this opportunity of wishing all my IXL.Y. comrades a bright and happy Christmas and a prosperous Xew Year. I owe some D.L.F. letters : don't think I have forgotten you. my comrades — I'll be answering your letters before very long. With love to Boby, Sadie. Una Tre•winnon, Iria 11, Gooseberry Pie, Boy. Harry. Black Watch, and all D.L.F., not forfeiting our queen, — Yours truly, GRAVEL. tl think you have found that the secret of ha-ppiness is in giving rather than getting, Gravel — and even oa-rry it to the length of giving us ycur secret! I know one happy thing Christmas is going to bring you, and I know why you wrote so feelingly about the reunion of absent friends: I should like to be there when you and Boy meet, to catoh- a Tay from tbe warmth of the moment's happiness. I wish you a very happy Christmastide, my dear, good Gravel.— DOT.] Dear Dot. — Time is pressing, but I must just send off a few lines to greet you all at O.W.W. I am not long over from Western Auatralift— the "Golden West." Many and 1 Various were the adventures which befell us there. Life is indeed life in the west. Wild and weird it ie, and yet Perth is one of the snost up-to-date cities I have vieited. One gets to love the place- it has a peculiar fascination/ of its own. Perhaps one day I •will write and tell you of my trip there. I think it would interest some. How dull and monotonous Victoria seems now, -with iis quiet little country towns, inches thick in dust, where when one goes for a walk one Jjas just to keep on walking, for if one aits flown there is always the dread of snakes lurking in the grass. The snakes are very numerous this year. In the more secluded parts they make bold to enter the residences «nd camp on the hearthrug or any other eoft spot. Then, if not snakes, it is ants; these great bull-ants— they bite! So a walk in the country is a walk indeed— you just keep on walking— that is, if you have the fear of them that I have. The weather has been exceedingly warm taxing the last two mouths. Oao day.- when

Tw« were visiting an inland town, the therm ometer registered 160 in the ?hade, with !an accompaniment of » raging duststorm. A I duststorm, to one who experiences it, is an everlasting memory. While it lasts, doors and windows axe securely closed, and it is i impossible to see more than a yard or two ahead. A peculiar thing is that the duststorms act as would rain, and clear and cool the atmosphere. We are getting used to the heat now, and do not mind it so lon<* as it i 3 a dry heat. In fact, when the thermometer drops below 76deg w« grumble! How could we get on without our little grumbles? A merry Christmas to all the big- and little folk, and to our kind and gracious Dot. from a. wanderer in strange countries. — Yours truly, AXGELESEA. [A third letter from Australia is more than I expected, Angelesea, and a great pleasure. If you will some day write and tell 113 a. little more of your wanderings, with perhaps an occasional "desperate encounter with a bull-ant," we shall be most pleased. 1 am so glad you wrote to join us this time : -rou are not of those who forget, are you? — L>OT.] Dear Dot,— " It looks easy enough!" Such was Mr Shasta's comment as together we stood leaning over the promenade deck of the 5.9. Uhinaroa, watching the graceful flight of some magnificent gulls. Attracted by a liberal assortment ot scraps thrown 1 overboard from the cook's galley, these beaut tiful birds hovered close to the side of the I vessel, awaiting the appearance of each I additional cherished morsel. So intent were j they upon the sharing of the spoil (ot was it that they totally ignored the thought of danger from such a harmless-looking pair of humans as Mr Shasta and I?) that we were ' -able to get a capital view of their flying gear as they rcse and fell 1 , hung motionless in mid-air, or darted into the waves in pursuit of a scrap of food. The ' way they manipulated their "sails" was a mystery — mysteriously simple, -a-nd simply humiliating to an earth-bound, leg-dragging human. To see them hang motionless in th-a teeth of the fierce gale that was raging was to see a miracle. 'Why :an't we fly?" I looked a-t my long thin arrcs. and then down at the seething water beneath us. and shook my head ; but Mr Shasta was thinking deeper. 'Wihy can't men invent a simple flying apparatus on that principle?" And as my eye 1 * again fought that perfectlyequipped flying-machine. I found myself mentally echoing '"Why?" The situation was quite unique: here were two of those gifted creatures called Men — men rather above the ordinary as regards gifts, I should say ; had we not that v-ery morning, over our teacups, and offhand, settled seme of the most difficult of political questions of the present day? — standing almost within arm's length of a perfect working model of a flying machine, anru crying aloud, " Why can't men do this thing?" I must hasten to absolve myself from any blame- in the matter ; I caudidJy confess that my gifts are not in the direction of mechanical ingenuity ; but Jifr Shasta, 3'cu who ar-e so well up in the language and mysteries of mechanics, I hold that you are responsible for a solution of this difficulty, and I shall nevar be quite satisfied of your ability to settle the license question till I sea you "on the- wing." Oh, Dot, you ' should have seen the delightful way in which Mr Shasta and I conferred upon ourselves the "freedom of the s.s. Ulirnaroa." We were told that we must obtain the permission of the chief engineer to look over the engine Toom. What more natural than that we should go to the engine room to find him? He was r.ot there, but Mr Shasta was quite at home, and introduced me to a maze of mechanical triumphs. What took my fancy above cylinders, condensers, electric generators, winches, and shafts was the engineers' stand, a registering clock face with a hand which pointed to eight issites, and beneath it four levers by which, at a touch, those issues were brought about. Imagine yourself standing at this vital point on a dark stormy night, the ship ploughing steadily ahead. Present]}' there is a cry of warning from aloft — the lookout has caught the hcar=e crash of breakers ahead l Hound flies the pointer: your hand grasps the lever, and with one quick movement it 1? down. The mighty engines are reversed ; the screw tears through the water in the opposite direction, ai d — what has happened? You do not know, but the captain on the bridge, who, with set teeth, has been looking at tho«e cruel rocks advancing upon him out of the darkness, breathes a sigh of relief as he pees them stop, pause a mcnient, then gradually but surely rec?de once more into oblivion We did not find the engineer in the stoke-hole, so we tried the sha>'t tunnel. I'm sorry that you are c Girl, Dot, «3 I was aleo on Octava's behalf. The-s wonders axe everlastingly gealed fro-n the gen-tler sex, and the seal is a, pretty dress. It were safer, perhaps that I follow Mr Shasta! Already he is half-wav alonp this narrcw cavern, hat in hand and crouching to avoid th» beams above, while he •Dick" his steps amid the grease ail< j o {) o f the tunnel. Occasionally he stops and tans the long «hining steel rod upon which the powers of the engine room we Lave iust left are concentrated. I anhcipated hii thought. "Fancy that breaking!" A solid red of tested steel, fn'ly a foot in diameter, ar'l up-5n the endurance of which depends the ( safety of this moving city. Xaw we are at 1 the stern c-t the vessel .- beneath our feel the so]e plates— beneath that, the Pacific! Here the sides come together with c sham angle. a>id the two stee) nropeller <-he!t^ (for she i« a twir-ycrew vessel) pass out through j their steel hatchways into the wa;ar. Back through the starboard tunnel and we ere once more in the engine room As J take one last look at the ina&c of inacinnerv eround me. I think again of the gull flying. I Why can't men the authors of all thef« intr cac : es. do that? Why can they not fly? I guess it's because" it's too feimple l With love to all my comrades present and past, I am. as ever, — Yours truly. BOY. [It's all very well to throw down challenges in this fashion. Boy. but tvith only half an hour before me to finish my copy for Mr Printer— no, I cannot! Perhaps some of the great brains 111 Europe are dealing with it now. As long ago as Leonardo jit was tried, wasn't it' He wghed the same question to himself as you have done • but the centuries between him and us have not yet answered it. — DOT.] Dear Dot, — How strange it oooms to be ; writing "those woTds away up here! I remember you putting at the footnote of my last letter that some day we would wonder how we lived 80 long in the south and be quite happy in the sunny noTth. At the time I scouted the idea, and did not think how nearly your words would come true, for although on© often longs fpr the old familiar , things it makes all the difference where one's horn-? is. This is not a bad little town at all when you get used to it, although things are very "quiet at present as business ie sack. Of course, the election caused great excit-enieTit, chiefly an account of the Nohcenee question. I heard a girl say one night. "Oh I don't care which man gets in; I'm interested more in the other question." They -all anticipated a- hard fight here, but, to everyone's surprise, the result snowed a few hundreds difference in favour

■of drink. Better luck next time, I hope; ! but at any rate our man got in. "We stayed in town till after 11 to see a few of the results, but they were slow in coming in, and after learning -that Mt M'Nab was defeated, and a few other surprises, I thought it was high time to get out of it. The holidays will soon be on, but somehow up here we do not seem to have anything to look forward to. The first thing down south was the Goie Show, but here the Palmerston North one is- all the attraction. Planet Junior and I w e nt to it with the others, and had a really splendid time — that is. as P. J. is suggesting as I write, if you can call losing your purse, money, ticket, «nd gloves " having a good time. ' It was the first time we had bsen on the Manawatu line, and passing through the gorge is really lovely. On one aide the cliff rises, and just bslow you, looking from the train, is the river. On the other side is a road, and rising directly from it are bush-covered hills, and waterfalls coming in among this greatly enhance the beauty of the scene. Palmerston seems a very nice place, and is laid off something like a town. The show is said to be the best in New Zealand, although we did tell everybody that it was nothing like those down south." And oh! we had just got in the grounds when I caught sight of the old familiar badge, and on looking again found that the wearer of it was none other than Black "Watch. I could almost fancy that by some strange coincidence I had been landed in dear old Dunedin. We did not stop at the time, as I thought that during the day we would have «n opportunity of having a few words, but it did not occur. It's the first badge I've -seen up here, although I've' made the acquaintance of one D.L.F. out at Takapau— Peggy Saville by name — and -a grand girl she is. I w«s otit there for a week a few months ago, and of course had the best of good times. During the winter we had such a lot of rain, but very little frost ; otherwise the climate is nothing to talk aiwut. Somehow or other someone seemed to be oil the sick list most of the time, and what with scarlet fever, influenza, etc.. etc., things never got too dull. Then two of my brothers were up respectively for three -and five weeks in search of health, and I think it says a lot for our country when I say that we sent one of them back to Lawrence a stone heavier than when he came. The place we have here is about 20 minutes' walk from town, and we have five acres with it. Since coming hi we have planted an orchard in front, and some day hope to be able to sit beneath the cherry trees and let the fruit drop into our mouths. I had a letter from Robj the other day, and was more than delighted to get it, as it was ages since I'd heard from Mataura, and I hope to see her familiar name among the first of the O.W.s, along with several others of whom we all want to hear news. I think there is ' nothing more at present, so fcr another yeajL I will r*y farewell. I fojgot to mention that my brother was at a place the other day, and in getting into conversation with the lady of the house discovered she came from the south ; I found out later she is T.D.A.'s sister. Nearly all the people we know up here come from south, and seem to form a separate clique altogether, better than the others, of course, seeing where they come from. With kindest remembrances | to all, and heaps of love to those to whom I owe letters, and to you also, dear Dot, ever, " wid best lub," — Yours truly, DAEKY. [I am quite glad to hear that you have grown so fond of your new home, Darky. But I see that you are still very loyal to the south. I am going to write to yoii privately very shortly in reply to the little note you ■enclosed to me. What a pity you did not get a few V-ords with Black Watch! Each of you would have enjoyed a little retrospective chat so much! But you may meet again.— DOT.] Dear Dot. — How gladly we welcome Old Writers' Week! I hope there will ba a monster gathering of old friends this time. What happy memories' the page recalls to my mind, and I hope to all of us I think it is about 10 years since my first letter appeared in the paper. I think I wrote about a black hen I had which did not care abouc nesting on the ground or in boxes like other hens, but used tc make her nest 3 in the trees, sometimes quite 12 feet off the ground. I remember on one occasion she made a nest up in a gum tree, and hatched out two chickens. One was blind, and the other fell from the tree, and, of course, died instantly from its injuries. We had a funeral for him end buried him m the garden. We put a flat stone up be<=:de it for a headstone, and Mike, my brothei, \ery thoxightfuliy placed a piece of wire netting over the grave to keep the hens from scratching it up again. Next morning we went to vi&it the grave, and lo! tho draught horse had walked right over it! But we fixed it up again, and since then we have added several other chickens, a little duck, a pigeon, and a cat to the little burying ground. Alas, there is no one- that would look at those places now and think the same thoughts as we would, for our old home ha^ beeu sold, and our fii-dt new one burnt down. It is wonderful what changes -will take place even in a few weeks or month? When •? family glow* up it f?eta scattered o\er different parts of the globe, and when we are children little do we think that a. time will come when we shall each be longing lo be back in the eld iiorne again just for a week. But all that is pasi now, and we each must take up and follow our individual path. Wei l , Dot, I have been in a good many places sir.cc I penned my last letter to the page I fully intended having a letter in last 0 W.Wi — in fast, I had the letter half written and nai bu3y at it when I received a ruessago from mother, and I got such a shock at the new 3 that my letter to the page was put by for the time. I was then living on the wostar.i slioie of beautiful Lake Wanaka. I have heard some people say that Lake Wanaka is just like a duck pond ; but let them get capsized out of a boat juet a little distance from the shore, and they will not get out of it quite so easily as from a duck pond! Fioni Pembroke one may perhaps not get a. very favourable impression of the lake ; to rea Jy see the beauty of it one needs to go up to the head in the steamer. I used to sit for hours by the lake and just listen to the gentle lap-lap of the little waves as they washed up tiie pebbles on the shore, and at night when there was a storm cr a galeblowing the wires would dash up and then ro'l back to meet the next ones as it, seemed, only to be washed up again. While I was there I learned to row a beat and &et fishing nets and take them up. I remember how excited I wa3 when I saw two fish in the first net I had set. I was very nearly jumping into the water to get them out. and by the time I had gathered tho net in and eriricated the two fisli I was just as wet a3 though I had been up to the neck in water. The fish were both big ones, but I do not remember their exact weight. I remember oue time we were making for Damper Bay Point ; there were three of us in the boat, — another girl, myself, and the owner of the boat, which happened to be a flat- bo Homed one. We had put the sail up, and had had a fairly good run down the bay. but on nearing the point above named we took down the sail and used the oars. We two girls had an oar each, and our friend was steering. We were all Laugh.-

ing and singing, when presently we heard a grating sound, and the boat swung round in the water. We all stopped singirj; and laughing pretty quickly, and stared over the side of the boat, for w« thought that We had run ashore, but instead of that we were in fairly deep water, — too deep for us to touch the bo-Mom with the oar. We had got fairly and squerely on a snag, md I can tell you it took us » little "while before we could get off. The boatman got the sail pole and did his best to push our little boat off, but it was of little use, for she just swung round in a semi-circle. Then we put our three heads together, and thought out a plan which succeeded, luckily for us. I do not want to pass through such an experience again. In the morning, wien we went round our nets, carefully avoiding all snags, we got one little fish! We were disappointed, but made up for it the next time we went out, as ire got six. I am very fond of horses, and I love riding. Many a good old canter my brother ar.d I have had ! Sometimes we rede a horse each, but we mostly double-banked on the poor eld grey mare. She knew us well enough, too, gnd used to play some tricks on \\3. We seldom used a saddle or bridle, which means that we were not allowed to ride her. A stick with a bunch of leaves did duty for a bridle, and if she didn't have a cover on, we rode her bare-back; but she had a nasty habit of running under all the tree 3 with low-hanging boughs ; _ and more than once I have been left hanging by the hair and the back of my pinafore in the old pear tree, and once I was deposited very nearly in the centre of a gooseberry bush. I am fond of gooseberries, but just- for the time I think I reckoned they were the unkindest things ever I had seen or felt. I will be down in about two weeks time, and will come and see Dot if I may. With best love to all my old friends, including Texas Jack, Giulia, Nancy Lee, Rose-a-bud, Dtim Dum, Dockleaf, Ziska, Bert, Harry, and as inanv more as would fill up this page, — Touts truly, * FIREFLY. P.S. — Can anyone tell me whore B. 0. B. and Con are'? I would very much, like to know.— FIREFLY. [That is a name I am indeed glad to see, and I shall be gladder still to see the owner of it when she comes. I have heard it so often, but I think this the first letter I have had from FiTefly. I forwarded your letter to Giulia. Be sure you do come and see me when you come to Dxinedin ; I want to hear about many okl writers from you. Come between 11 and 1 if you can. — DOT.] Dear Dot, — I 'have been trying to make up my mind what would) be a suitable subject to write about for 0.W.W., and as most of us like to hear of holiday dcings, I ant going to tell you of a little holiday trip which I had recently. It was n week-end excursion to the New River Heads. We left town by motor boat at 6.30 p.m. on the Saturday evening. It was a fine summer's evening, bat theTe was rather a stiff breeze blowing, and our party of four received a. fair damping before we arrived at our destination, for. as we were making against the tide and wind, we took a fair amount of epray aboard. However, we were a happy little parly, and did not mind this little, inconvenience, and s.o arrived at the Heads somewhat wet, but not at all dispirited. Here we found the hut in which we were to camp. It was a little building of two rooms, with a great big fireplace in cm© of theni. and looked just the place to camp in, but there was one defect, and that was, that theer was only one bunk in the place; and how four of us were to sleep on one. bunk was a bit of a puzzle. However, we "overcame that matter by assigning the bunk to the "father" of the party, «nd the rest of us slept on the boards, or on anything else, in the shape of bags oi horsecovers, that we cou ] d get. But to get back to our arrival. No sooner were we settled than I was duly appointed cook, with another member as an assistant, and told tc get tea ready. Very scon we had a big fire roaring in the huge fireplace, and tea was prepared and partaken of in a'l sorts of positions. Two of us sat en a bench, another on the bunk, and the fourth on an upturned box. and so we had our meal. After tea we wandered | down to the beach, which was about 50 ) yards in a direct line from our back door, I and sat down on the rocks and enjoyed the beautiful evening. Haviug been out here for an hour or two, all hands went inside, and we sat round the fire until someone made a start for bed, but there was to be no bed that night, for no sooner had wo got all our beds made than a spirit of mischief eeerued to possess everybody. I was the first unfortunate, for no sooner had I chmb.d m on top of my horsecover than my feet were seized and tickled unmercifully, daspite all my attempts to get away*. Well, that was the start of the fun, and the ball was kept rolling until 2.30 on Sunday morning, when the "father" of the party put a stop to it by threatening to throw one of the younger members cut just as he was if he did noi st»p his "capers." Sunday morning foui'd mo first up, and. hawng a feeling that revenge was sweet, I fcqu«red matters a hUe Ly taking up an empty kerosene tm and rudely disturbing the peaceful siumbers cf cur r^isy member by banking it on the floor close to his ear. I then went out and had a flounder round in the briny, and then lay out on the rocks fcr upwards of an hour, enjoying a fine j sunbatih. I had not been out long, heflvever before the others came out and had a> i dip also, and they too had a sunbath. Afier , breakfast we had a run in the motor-boat i and, seeing a sailing boat tacking down j the harbour, we ran up to her, and, casting a hue aboard, we t?o!: her in iown. There was a^ heavy sea runiih.g. and vhen we got into tne rip with the boat we were towm<* lif cr T v on the !atter fully realised tJ » e fact that tlie water i*. wet, for. being in tow of the motor-boat, they had of necessity to follow m her wake, and we gave them the full benefit of three- fine big idlers by taking tliem on our stai board bow. Though w© got over them all right, the boat in our wake could not help herself, and dived into them, thereby ducking her crew. Though we enjoyed' it greatly I feel sure that the crew of the other boat did ret Having towed her <lown as far as the crt-w were making for, we cast off the other boat and beat out to S2a. where we enjoyed a half hour's rolling and tumbling on the bar, and then ran back to our anchorage and got ashore. We then had dinner, and after dinner went for a walk of several miles to Pebbly Beach. Here we lay down for several hours, and had another suubath. then we tramped away home again fcr tea. After tea, one of the party not being well, he went to bed', while the others of us went down to the rocks where we again enjoyed the lovely evening and the music of tha sea. That nigEt all hands slept quietly enough-, but the next morning we were all up like larks. All hands, including our eick member Vho had, partially recovered, had by this' time developed an enormous appetite, ana at meal times we fairly excelled ourselves. Breakfast over, two of us set out to climb to the Signal Station, while the other two went m for a bath. After scrambling up the hill my mate and I arrived at the Signal Station, and duly inscribed our names up there. We then, tramped away ecEoas the hills to _a more elevated position. where we could enjoy to the fullest aclvan-

tage the sight oi th-e breakers breaking in on the bar. Then we went lown to the beach, where we secured a large number of fine, large mussels, and having made a kelp bag, we put them into it. and, swinging the bag on * pole between us, we tramped back home. Needless co say, we had mussels for dinner that day. None of us had tasted) them before, and when I took the billyful' off the fire, it was with much precaution that the "wag? of the party tested one; but when his only response to the question) "Are they any good, B ?" was to make a frantic dive for the largest in the billy, it did not require much insight to

know that they were good. The afternoon T we spent in idle sunbathing on the rocks, and in the evening we went to the bcme of ihe pilot, where we were entertained for the evening. The next morning we were up at 4.30 (I hardly know how I managed it), for we had to be in town for work that morning. Having partaken of a- light breakfast, *11 bands packed up, and, getting aboard the motor-boat, we set off for tame. The morning was just perfect, and the run up was most enjoyable. We accomplished the journey from the heads to the jetty about an hour and a-half, and arrived home ia plenty of lime for urark. So ended our little trip; but we have a very effective reminder cif it in the many sore places much ■we have all over us, as the Tesult of the Bunburning which we sustained- We had, on the whole, a 1 most enjoyable time, and cur deepest thanks are due to the pilot, who was so 'dnd as to take us down and back in his T:oat and also, to give us the use of the hu* .

As I have taken up quite enough, space already, I will finish by wishing Dot and her O.W.W. every success on this occasion. With kind regards to all the L.F. I know, — Yours truly, WILLOW BRO^K.

[It seems to have been a good, sonny outing, Willow Brook ; that is the treatment for "town cobwebs, isn't rfc? It is splendid for city -workers to' get away from. their work and get an allowance' of sun and wind and fresh air that will see ihem through, the dreariest and hardiest week's business. — DOT.]

Dear Dot, — Most gladly do I obey the call that b«ralds< the- approach of another reunion of the old writers of our dear old page. May that call be triumphantly answered from «J1 over the land where members of our |and dvrelL! Most earnestly do* I hope tliat this year's gathering will be one of which Dot may be justly proud, and one which will show that the older generation of D.L.F. are as warm in their attachment as ever to the traditions of the page. No doubt, many of our old comrades will be unable to join fhs gathering on paper; but the) will, I am sure, be with us in spirit. Looking backward over the year that has gone by, and ihe work that 'has been achieved, I am sure we can feel very hopeful for the future of our page; certainly many of the better-known D.L.F. who have not yet reached retiring age are conspicuous by their absence as far as writing letters to the page are concerned. But we must also remember that a ne-r genexaiion of D.L.F. is growing up while tihe old one ie passing away from active work, and that new one will speedily fill its place. The clubs, too, are doing their share, and tl+hough I have not had the opportunity of attending a meeting of the Dunedin Club this year, I attended a meeting in Inver-cir-jill. and I must say I was surprised- and delighted with »11 I saw -and heard. The papers and speeches were excellent, and everyone present .seemed to enter into the * subject in hand with, true spirit; if other meetings held .are in any way as good as tli© oni I att«3ed, then I say that the crab as an honour to the page, and to the mem3>ers who -comprise it. Looking backward •again, older writers of the page can now, As time goes on, realise more fully than ever what a great part the page has played in their lives — the lifelong friendships formed., the meetings and gatherings, which are as yesterday remembered with a thrill of pleasure, the debates' so closely contested and -as keenly enjoyed. The ideal of what our -lives should be wae by it brought before lie vividly, and in a way that would appeal to young people — more, perhaps, than s^y other. And all this at » time when the character is being surely moulded for life. ' But then the good the page has done is too i "Well known for me to dwell on it; may it ■ long continue under the able guidance of Dot to do the same work for the young people of this fair land of curs is, I am sure, the -earnest wish of every old writer. I am , glad to ccc that a number of our band are .. "keen enthusiasts of NaTure; the district in i which I am located offers abundant opportunities for the Nature student, especially , in plant life. I would be only too pleased I b» enter into correspondence or exchange >]pacimens with any of my D.L.F. chums who ■a«t interested in. this particular direction. | i had a letter recently from -our old friend ! Taisy Primrose, and she telle me that she expects to visit New Zealand again during the •ioming year. I am sure all her old friends will be delighted to oneet her again, and give her a hearty welcome to our shores. We 'had the o'easure of a flying visit from Shasta and Midgie recently, and I need hardly say that we spent a most enjoyable time. But tihen we D.L.F. always do; do we not. Dot? T hope fcHet ajl my old comrades will be present at our meeting to-day, and to them all I send my warmest greetings. In closing I wish all connected with the page the old, old wish — a merry Christmas and a prosper- ' ous Xevr Yeai. — Yours truly,

[Glad welcome to you, Ceres! Yours, oddly enough, »is almost the only retrospective letter of D.L.F. matters this time. It is true that some good work has been done >jr our members, yet I want still more. I like you, for increasing prosperity to 4le clubs. I know how truly you have their Interest at heart —DOT.]

Dear Dot, — I am too late to writ* a letter iftr 0.W.W., but would like to wish my. old Comrades a. merry and happy meeting. Am 1 too late for that? I hope not. You know I never forget you all; don't you, Dot? Please give my love and good wishes to all xaes old friends and chums, and accept same Iv. ROBT.

ywirself. — Youts trui

fJust in time to give us your wishes, dear Boby! I wish' there had been more news of yourself, but at least we have the kind, ■warm thoughts of these two or three lines. «nd are very gl«<i of them. I wish you good iie*lth, happiness, and prosperity in the coming year. — DOT.]