LETTERS FROM THE LITTLE FOLK.

Otago Witness, Issue 2921, 9 March 1910, Page 83

LETTERS FROM THE LITTLE FOLK.

Motto:—We write for ' tlie benefit of others, tioS for ourselves. &3T So letter to contain more than 450 wor^. Dear Dot, —This is my first letter to yon, and I .should like to join your band. I like reading the Little Folk's Page, There are a great many writers. I know several' of them; seven of them go to this school. I am 10 years old. and in the Fourth Standard. I live in the country, and have half a mile to walk to school. I have four brothers and i little babv sister. —Youra truly, KURA. [Do you know hat I should like you t<T write abou in your next letter, Kura? 1 should like you to. tell me something very, special that you saw one day on your walk to school—l know there must have been something special once. —or to tell me about the very sweetest oi the Haughtiest thing that the baby sister ever did —if she is old erough to be naughty. Do you think ycu could make i letter out of that?—DOT.] Dear Dot, —This is my first letter to you.' page, and I hope you will let me become one of your Little Folk. 1 shall soon be> eight, and am in the Second Standard. "Wo have not had any rain for a good while, and the brooks are getting dry. Our geraniums are out in flower just now. We might be going to Dunedin after harvest. I wilt now clos.e. With best love to the Little Folk,—Yours truly, GREENGAGE. [You write very well In ink for a little girl not yi.'t eight, Greengage I wonder if you get your fingers inky? Perhaps you, even sometimes get a black smudge on your face—do you? I shall be glad tc hear fror } you again.—DOT.] Dear Dot,—l think it is about time I made another start; I might try and waken up the sleepy ones in Hampden. Hurry and write, Scotland's Heather, Busy Boy,Pathfinder, and 'all the rest! Busy Bofl should not have taken that N.D.P because he is never busy writing to Dot. I see Tha; Helmsman is far away again. He is a greatf traveller. Ned De Vine is always amusing someone with his pipes, even the sailors .Mjv, brother is teaching me to play the pipes;*) and I can play several tunes. Scotch Jock is stooldng just now, so he has not mnchi] time for writing. I was at the Oamara sports on New Year's Day, and enjoyed myself very much. I like to see the Higi-' landers dancing and piping on the stage.-. I haven't had much time, but when the long | nights come I shall have more time. Oua, garden is looking fairly nice just now. What are youi favourite flowers, Dot? Mine ai« roses, lilies, and carnations. I hope jor \ had a good day foi your picnic, Honey Blossom and Merrymaker. I have been at ei good number of picnics this year, ■ and en-, joyed myself at most of them. I hope ypir had a good time at Christmas, Dot. I did< I liked reading 0.W.W., especially Kat« Carnegie's letter I have received quite a. number of autos lately. I got your auto., Merrymakei, and thank you very-much. the farmers fffe • cutting oats and wheat/ We had the mill threshing grass seed \ little while ago, and it will be coming bacTto thresh oats and wheat again. We hava a lot of apnles and pears this year; the pears are ripe now. and we don' i; sp-ar* them. With love to A Countrv Maid, Verbena. Viola Cornuta. Little Girl, Heather Lassie, Wild Rose, M'ary Bell, and Haw-< thorn Bell,—Yours truly, QUEEN OF THE VALE.

[I am so surprised to hear that yon can nlav tunes on the wipes, Queen of the Vale: I did not know that girls ever attenrotecl that instrument. Did you find it difficult learning them ? You will be a rival of Nee ', De Vine's yet!—DOT.]

Dear Dot—We hnve foui horses, and their* names are Prince, Blossom, Rosy, and Tom. We are milking 19 cows. Most of the. peor>le about here are busy with theii harvest now. I had whooping cough not very' long aso; it is not a very nice thing to; have. I often get « ride with sonv* of tb«v factory carts when I am going to school. Itj rained very heavily yesterday, but it is fine f o-day. I was un stayin? with my sister at | O'amaru at Christmas time. We have two cats and a dog. I milk two cows at night. "We pla-v hop-scotch at .school. I had rj pretty little gr?y and white kitten, but it was killed, and " was very sorry. —Vo-ura trulv. ' VIDA.

[How was your t>ooi little kitten killed? I am so. scrry to he.ar that you lost it in that sudden way. If you were fond of it you must hav© missed it froml the house very much; little kittens- have such nretty playful ways that one feels quite B blank when they go.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —Here I am onco nearly a year since I last wrote to you.

We have "been having very hot weather down here, and everyone his been carrying water from wells, as their * tanks are dry. I have been away in Canterbury for seven months: that is a long while to be away from, home, isn't it, Dot? Going up I had 12 hours in the train, from a-quarter past 6 ili the morning till a-quarter past 6at night. Then 1 stayed at Ashburton that night, and weni another 25 miles next day. I was very glad to arrive at my destination. I liked the place I was staying at very much, but was very glad to get home once again. You always like to go away from home, but the greatest joy of going away is in coming home again. I « trying hard to get a friend of mine to join your happy band; she is ehy yet, but I suppose I shall persuade her in time. ,1 have a pet dog and.two oats. ATe you fond of animals, Dot? I am very fond of them. Our garden does not look very nioe just now, but it was love'iy when the roses were all out. —Yours truly. IRISH MAIDEN.

: [That was a long train journey for you, Irish Maiden; I hope it was not a very hot ■flay. And so you have discovered too, little girl, how much of the pleasure of going »way is in coming home again! It does sound a little odd, doesn't it? But it is ?uite true - that' during one's absence one eels no keener pleasure than the homecoming gives. And you were seven months away—a long time!—DOT.] Dear Dot, —We have started school again after six weeks' holiday.. I .enjoyed my holidays very much. I went away two days before Christmas, and came home the day before the school started. I was away for Christmas and New Year. We have been •having very hot weathei lately, but it is ■raining to-day Everybody's tanks are dry, and they are. carting water. We .have a Bchool library at school, and we get a book every week to read .at home. All the far•smers have their crops cut and led in, and jome of them have started to thresh. Our "tcacher is going away in about foui weeks. 30 I suppose we shall have a new one With love to all the D.L.F. and yourself,— fours truly, : PINK MANUKA.

[I dreamt about your name flower the vther night, Pink Manuka; I saw someone carrying ah armful of it, and it looked so beautiful. Have you any of it growing?— DOT.]

Dear Dot," —As two of my sisters write to your page. I think I should like .to write too". I am 11 years old and am in the Third Standard at school. There are only a few pupils going to our school. The place we live in is a small farming district three miles from Kiversdale. There is a cheese factory in the. district and a good . number of the farmers around send milk to it. We milk 30 cows. I have not learned to milk yet, but I have tried it a few times. I have to keep" house morning and evening while the others milk. Dad has all his crop in the -tack ready for thrashing. I like when we have the mill; it is such fun watching it working.—Yours truly,. LITTLE CUPID.

[I am glad to have you far a correspondent. Little Cupid. Have you brought your quiver ©nd arrows with you, and do you intend to do any mischief with them? —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —It is but a short time since you last heard from me, but I thought I ■would write again before the end of this month. I saw a very nice letter in this week's Witness from my nearest neighbour, Rollifer. It would be grand, I should think, for both the Little Polk and the page if the Dunedin L. and D. Club could be set on a footing again. I suppose the Little Polk who are fond of reading will want to hear about the book I was going to describe. The book, which is entitled "The Luck of Boaring Camp," is written by the well-known author Bret Harte, and, though short, is » very interesting story. "The Luck" is the name of a little baby girl and the "Roaring Camp" is the home of a number of miners. The story opens by telling about a newborn baby whose mother had just died and had been buried that day. These rough miners were standing round the bed where -the infant - was lying, and were talking the matter over. At last, after they had been talking for a good while, and had suggested .»«• satisfactory plan, one of them said, "If it was a boy we could have reared it somehow; but when it's a girl it makes things awkward. You, Bill," he said, pointing to a big, strong miner, "had. better be the nurse-girl, as y.ou can remember more about children than any of us does." The next puzzle to solve was, What would they call baby? and they agreed to call hei "The Luck." In a very short time Bill became as tender a nurse and handled "The Luck" as gently as any woman would have done. The first time he went to the country township he spared no money to get good clothing and other necessaries f.or the baby. In time everyone in the camp grew ta love the little innocent strangely left in their hands. They never spoke loudly or swore when Bill was singing her to sleep. She. on the other hand, was a remarkable baby: she was always laughing and smiling, and even when she was teething, she cried very little. Every day when they went to their work they would put her near the place where they:were working, and every now and again one or another of the miners would go and see "how The Luck was doing." This went on till "The Luck" was about two months old. when a dreadful thing happened. One night a storm, of the sort -which always came unexpectedly to those lonely parts of America. broke on the camp, and the miners had much difficulty in escaping with their lives and very little of their belongings. When they reached a place of safety the first question was, "Where's 'The Luck'?" Thfn the discovery was made that neither Bill nor "The Luck" was with them. After some anxious searching they itnir>d Bill with "The Luck" clasped tightly in his arms, and clinging to a piece of driftwood. The two were taken to the shelter s.nd all means of restoration used, but without success. Poor Hit!'? Luck died of the cold, and Bill only lived long enough to sav, "It's nil right, boys: I've got 'The Luck' out of danger, anywav." When the storm ceased the remainder of the miners went back fo their work with saddened _hearts. for life seemed rhepTlsss now that '"Hie Luck" was por.e; she had been lh« sunshine of their lives. But they deisrnn'nod in the future to do nothing that *bey thought their little Luck wouldn't like. This litttc story shows, what power even a helples-9 infant may have over rou<»h working men who at one time were the worst chara"t"rs known; but were no-.v lir.-nest. peaceful, and Any of (hose who have Bret B""~te's ir-em. "Dickons in Carnn " will <»et an '^ a « of the life of the miners in +hi« stc-v. With the Hndest regards and beit wishes to nil the LiH]° both T>asf and rwent. writers, and to Dot hcreelf,—Yours truly, .TF.A3ST.

[Thank you so much. Mistress Xean, for telling us the story of "The Luck of Roaring Camp 0 " in your own words. It was very interesting indeed.- Doesn't it show what golden hearts beat sometimes under rude exteriors? I am quite sure, that vour letter will be read with much interest, and I Hope that any other D.L.P. who have b«m ™*d-

ing- similar little stories will .also try to share them with the readers of the' page. No one was so well qualified as Bret Harte to write about the American miner "out West"; they were his special theme, and he saw through all the roughness and profanity the nobler instincts lying dormant. Have you read anything else by him ? I was moat interested to hear the item of news you sent in your private note to me, and I quite agree with you that you are lucky indeed. I did not. know it until your note informed roe of the fact.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —It is about four months since I last wrote to the page. We have been having lovely weather lately. The creeks have stopped running. The farmers are busy cutting their crops and some are leading in. The books I have read are "Little Women and Good Wives" and "Shenac." I was at a picnic on January 26, and I won a race. We have 19 young pigs; they are very pretty when they are small. I have a pet lamb, and a pet sheep which is nine years old. I am learning to play the accordeon and ride a bicycle. The school opened on February 2, but I was too busy to go. I am gioing to school on Monday. I walk two and a-half miles to school, and I like going. With love to Cotton, Ice, and Geranium,—Yours truly, J. S. C.

Dear Dot,—l have not been away for my holidays yet, but I am going to Dunedin In about, a fortnight. The school took up on February '}.. We are milking seven caws just now. My brother has a greyhound pup, but I feed and look after it, so I call it mine. Its name is Bess. It is brindle and white. I am learning to . ride a bicycle; I can nearlj ride already; I can go about two chains without falling. Have you ever read "Erne's Temptation,". Dot? I read it, but I am reading it over again because I liked it. The apples and plums are ripe. Our tomatoes are getting ripe. I was down at the river one day. and I caught a trout with my hands. I stood on it when I was wading up the creek, and it had no means of escape. I am learning to play the accordeon. I have been in the Seventh Standard a year now, but I am going to school another year. I have never been in Dunedin before, so I think I shall have a good holiday. I have a good few autos. —Yours truly, GERANIUM.

[I hope you enjoy your visit to Dunedin, Geranium; you must be sure to go and see all the sights. I fear that method of yours of catching trout would not meet with approval in fishing circles! It is quite illegal, isn't it?—DOT.] Dear Dot, —It is a long time since I wrote to you, and you will wonder what has become of me for not writing sooner. All our oats are in the stack now but one paddock, and we shall soon be leading it in. The crops round here are only fair this year ori account of the dry weather. The turnips are coming on splendidly owing to the late rains. To-day's rain is the best rain we have had this season, and we are very thankful for it, as the tanks were almost dry. .We are milking 43 cows just now, and they are rising in their milk supply. My father went to Dunedin with the Maxim; gun detachment of the Murihiku Mounted Rifles to see Field-marshal Viscount Kitchener. We have a cricket set at our school now, and have fine fun playing with it We are going to challenge another school soon for a cricket match, and we have 11 boys to play. I was at the last D.L.F. picnic at Wyndham, and enjoyed myself very much. I also made the acquaintance of Ceres, Rewa, Bobbiedear, Oetava. and Lavengro, whom I often write to. I went to the South Wyndham Settlers' picnic on Christmas Day, and had a very enjoyable time. I saw the Lieutenant Shackleton moving pictures, and a. few nights after saw the Burns-Johnson fight, pictures. This is not a very long letter, but I must close, as there is no jore news at present.—Yours truly, THE SCOTCH LAD.

[Did you see anj of the pictures of the penguins when y.ou sa-w the Shackleton pictures ?. I saw,some. a,nd thought them some of the mo 9 amusing studies I have ever seen of anvmal life. They have such a human waddle! I heard Lieutenant Shackleton lecture; it wa3 most interesting.—DOT.] • Dear Dot,- —I air now following a plough in the back-blocks of Canterbury; there is just the river cutting us off from Otago.. A few weeks ago my mates and I got up an expedition to climb Mount Balfour in the Kiikliston Eange. On reaching the top we had a splendid view of Mounl Cook and Lake Tekapo towards the north. Looking south we could see the Waitaki mouth; east, the Temukp Range in the distance, and looking west we saw the Knrow Hills. My mate and I went foi a ride on a sledge last night to visit some neighbours four miles away. We reached there safely, but on our return journey we met with a sad catastrophe. The sledigs broke down, and we were left in among the tussocks while our horse made tin best of his way with the remains of the sledge.—Yours truly, THE RARE OLD BIRD. [You don't ssv how high Mount Balfour is: was it a stiff climb? But the view you got from the (op seems to have been worth the exertion of climbing.—DOT.] Dear Dot.—lt was raining heavily all day yesterday, but it is a, lovely day to-day. We started school on the 7th February after six weeks' holiday. Everybody has finished harvesting abaut here now; the harvest was very early. We are milking five cow* ncrw. but they don't give -very much milk, as the grass is scarce. Do ycu collect rost-cards. Dot? I have about 200 now. — Yours truly, EUNOMHAREENYHA".

[I can hardly «av thnt I deliberated collect post-e.ards, but I have an accuulation of them that have been sent to me at different times. Th->t i« different from a collection, isn't it?—DOT.] Dear Dot —We had our school picnic before our school broke uv>; it wa« held ».t the Taieri Mouth, and I enjoyed myself very much. 1 pot a lot of thin<? for Christmas tbi= year, but I only wish there were three Christmases in one year. On Christmas Dav we were to fo a picnic to the Serines, but it w-as too wet. end we went on the following Monday. On New Year's Day my uncle and aunt and cousins came down, and we had great fun, and on the Mondov after we went up to Middlemarch. We pot up at 5 o'clock, and we left here at B o'clock. t>nd we spot home at 10 o'clock. I wa° tired when I nrHi home. We ere back at school ocrain. and I do not I'ke it. We were ever at Brighton' for a fortn'qbt. i.nd it was nice in water on hot dav?. T went in *ot a bathe nearlv everv day. Sometimes the water was coM and sometimes it was warm l . The pardon is looking Pretty inst now. Don't you +Mnk I have bod a fine time tMs yepr? No wonder I don't like school.—Yours trulv. . SMILE'R. [lndeed you bad a pood time! And I know school is r.ot quite so interesting as sea-bathing in summer: but if you did mot go to school you would never foe able to write a letter to me, or anyone else. So nerhans school has its uses after all! DOT.] Deal Dot, —I have left school for some time, so I ""ill have more leisure to write

to the p.fge. I' often wonder why those D.L.F.. who live in the country do not have more interesting news to tell us. I think if I lived there I would have so much to tell that there would be no room in the page for any other letters. There is not much to write about in town, as one sees just the same things every day. The subject which I am most interested in at present is scouting. Bret Harte and I are scouts. We are not in the same patrols. Each patrol consists of a patrol leader, a corporal, and Bix scouts. Each patrol is named after a beast or bird, and their call is an imitation of the cry of the beast- or bird after which the patrol is named. Bret Harte is in the "Moreporks" and I am in the "Hounds." We are distinguished by a knot of different-coloured ribbon. Bret Harte's colour is pale blue, and mine is orange. We have grand times on Saturdays playing scout games and having scout picnics. Once we walked six miles to a picnic. I suppose girls think boys can't have a good picnic without some of them in it; but we did, anyway. Of course, our mothers would insist on us having serviettes, but we had no use for them. We handed round the eatables on the brims of our wideawake scout hats, and the sandwiches tasted just as good. In the afternoon we \vent out and built a Kaffir hut out of grass sticks and fern fr.onds. We had another scout picnic across the New River Estuary. We went across by a tram line which is built across the river. The cars are drawn by a kind of - "puffing Billy" at a pretty good speed, but not half as fast as the Dunedin cars go. We had a good time that day. too. We were out on the river in a boat. I had never been out in a boat before, so, of course, I enjoyed it immensely. We also had races and archery, but I wasn't luckv enough or strong enough to win any prizes. It was to console us poor cha.ps who did not win any prizes that we were taken out for a. r.cw on the river. I wonder. Dot, if wry D.lr.F. know the Foout's oath: for the benefit of those who do .not know it here it is:

; "On my honour I promise—"(l) To be loyal to God and the King. "(2) To helr> other people at all times. "(3) To obey the scout laws." The following are the "scout laws: "(1) A scout's honour is to be trusted. (2) i A scout is to be loyal to God and the King, i to his officers and his parents, to his coun- | try, and to his employers. (3) A scout's j duty is to be useful and to help others. I (4) A scout is a friend to all and a brother to every other scout, no matter to what social cl*3B the other belongs. (5) A scout j is courteous. (&) A scout is a friend to animals. (7) A scout obeys orders. (8) A scout smiles and whistles under all circiimstances. (9) A scout is thrifty." I will just close this letter by quoting the following lines by Rudyard Kipling: . "There's just one law for the scout, ! And the first and the last and the present I and the past And the. future and the perfect is—j ' Look Out'! "I, thou, and he, look out! We, you, and they, look out! 1 Though you didn't or you wouldn'* 1 Ot you hadn't or you couldn't, i You jolly well must look out! ' "Look out when your temper goea • At the end of a losing game, j And your boots are too tight for your toes. ! And you answer and argue and blame, j "It's the hardest part of the law, | But it has to be learn't by the scout— For the whining and shirking and jaw, All patrols, Look Out!" j "We went with the Cadets to see Lord j Kitchener, and had a splendid time. I i should have liked to come into the Witness . office to see you, but we never got up town ! until after 7 in the evening. We had a lot ; f marching and drilling., but what did a j little tiredness matter when we saw the i greatest British soldier of the day. You bet we felt every inch soldiers as we marched ! past him and received his salute! But Bret i Harte is going to write and tell you all about our trip. With love to all .D.I/.F. ' comrades, the editor, and yourself.—Yours truly, - PI-BIJPI. j [I have been extremely interested in your i letter. Pi-ri-pi. I did not know that you ; and Bret Harte are scouts. I am always : interested when I see a little patrol of scouts ! pass me in the street, even when they are ! boys I don't know; but I should be still : more interested to see you on the trail. It ; must have been one of the proudest moments i of your life when you saluted Lord Kitchener, | knowing all that he represents. Some day I you yourself may hold an important position : in the army. Pi-ri-pi; you know the saying ! in Napoleon's army that every soldier of the line has "a marshal's baton in his knapj sack" ? Energy and loyal work will take you i a long way—perhaps across the seas to the standing a.rmv in Great Britain! Tell Bret j Harte I shall look forward to getting his I letter, will you?—DOT.] Dear Dot—This is my first letter to your : Tiage, and I h<W*». you will let me join your . haopy band of D.L.F. I am 10 years of ag«, ! and am in the Second Standard at school. My mother has a lovely flower p-nrden. We ; have a net hawk. I kr.ow one D.L.F. whose : name is Arisaka. —Yours trulv, L. A. B. M. [I am very jrlad to have you for one of . my D.L.F., and hope you will write again j and tell me about ths.t pet hawk. Not many ! neonle have hawks for pets, have they?— DOT.] ' Dear Dot —I was glad to see my lf>st letter in the Witness. We have a new dog, and | we call it Ply, I am top of my class at : echool now. We have got all our harvest in now. Our school picnic was on Wednes- ; dav. and I had a good time. have a garden ! with a few things in it. I like workine" in : it.—Yours truly, WINNIE. Dear Dot, —It is about two months since . J wrote to you. I had a good holiday at Christmas, and enjoyed myself very much j among the net Jamba., calves, and foals. I I am in the Fourth Standard now, but I do not think it is very hard. I know Polly, ; 'P'os. Buttercup, and two .or t.hrp.« others. — Yours truly. FLOWER GIRL. Dear Dot,—Tt seems «nch a long time since I last wrote to you. We have been having very dry weather up till to-dmy, and the grass is all dried up. I was at a concert and dance the other night, and. enjoyed myself very much. The harvest is in full swing just now. and the mills are humming everywhere. We are still milking for the factory, but the cows don't give much milk now. We are back at school agvvin; I did not like going back after being at home for such a long time. I passed my examination, and I am in the Sixth Standard. It is much Harder than the Fifth Standard. However, I shall soon be done-with school, so I must do my best.. Some people say that school days are the best part of one's life, but my sister does not seem to think so. Most of the plums and tmplcg are ripe now. I will close now. With love to Flower Girl, Blossom, Sceptre, and Sunny Jim,—Yours truly, GINGER SNAP. ' [School day 3 are the days moftt free f***n

care, 'Ginger Snap. I think that is what people •' mean' when they say they are the happiest days cf one's life. But I do not think they are necessarily the happiest, because capacity for happiness often increases with the years. You will see, yourself, some day.-DOT.]

Dear Dot,—lt is such a long time since I last wrote to you that I am afraid you will be thinking I have forgotten you. I was so pleased to see my last letter in the Witness There have been a great number of fires in Riverton. There are a good few D.L.F. here; the other day I noticed one wearing a badge. I should like to change my N.D.P. to Bruce, because I noticed that there was another Rosabella. I will tell- you the names of some of the best books I have read:—"The Wide, Wide World," " Old Chickweed." " Marjorie and Muriel," "Babs," "Little Mother Meg,'' and several others. We had our school excursion to the Waiau. It was a lovely trip, and everyone enjoyed themselves very much. We reached there at 11 o'clock in the morning, and left at 3 o'clock. The bush up there is very nice, and ferns of every kind are to be found in great abundance. With love to Ruby and Lady Leaf,—Yours truly, BRUCE.

Dear Dot,—This is my first letter to the page, and I hope you will accept me as one of your Little Folk. I am 11 years old, and I am in the Fourth Standard at school. We have just started school after a long six weeks' holiday. I have eight sisters and two brothers. I have three sisters going to school. I went to the Limehills School trip on December 29. —Yours truly, ENGLISH LADDIE 11.

[I should have liked to hear something about that excursion, Laddie, and whether you took part in any races or sports. Perhaps you will tell me that in your next letter.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —It is such a long time since I last wrote to you that I am quite ashamed to start again,, but the old proverb is, " Better late than never." The weather has been very dry up here, so that it is very pleasant to get a small shower now and again. It rained very heavily yesterday,— the heaviest rain we have had for over a month. The farmers will be starting to thresh the corn in a week or two. There are a lot of D.L.F. going to our school, and most of them are in my standard. With love to all tbe D.L.F. and yourself.—Yours truly, DUTCH MAGGIE. Dear Dot,—lt is raining hard, and everything outside i 3 looking refreshed. The cows are chewing their cud, and the horses are feeding quite happily. Ours is a very dry district in -the summer time, and in the winter the frosts are rather severe, especially in the mornings when we have to go to school. It is also a great district for wind, which is very unpleasant. I will now tell you about a ramble which a friend and I had test week. We started from the house at 2 p.m., and reached our destination at 3 p.m. We gathered ferns, spiders and lizards. My friend climbed up on a steep bank, and while she was getting some ferns she slipped right down to the bottom. The basket of ferns came tumbling down on top of her. While I w.as laughing at her I slipped into a hole and- disappeared amongst some large bracken ferns. We lay there and laughed for about ten minutes, and then got up. We then came upon a nest of young spiders. I got a tin, and we put the large white eggs in and closed th» lid. We then put everything in the basket and went home.—Yours truly, KAKAJUI.

[Won't you tell us some more about your collecting, Kakanui? Do you preserve the specimens of spiders you take, and are you trying to make a oornplete collection of all the species in your district? Do you know how to kill them properly?—DOT.] Dear Dot. —I reooived your note, and was very pleased to get it. I know Geneva, quite well. I have been very ill these last few days. I feel a great deal better now, but I have still got a headache, so you will have to excuse my bad writing. A headache is a terrible thing to have, isn't it, Dot? We shall be in the Fifth Standard at school in March. I don r t think that flower is a eodetia; it has a' leaf like an anemone. The thresher is in Mount Barker now, and' the people will be busy. It was raining very heavily on Saturday. The people were all wishing for rain, because everything was getting burnt ud. My aunt and uncle are going away to Wellington soon for a holiday, and I hope they have a good time. I have not been to Wellington yet, but 1 should very much like to go. It must be a. very large place. Since it is th» c> New Zealand it ought to be the biggest town. With love to Geneva. Spring Flower, Kawarau. Jenny Geddes, Pinkie, Blue Litt.e Elf. Lady King, and Jockey ll,—Yours t r U i y , LADY EVELYN. [I hope your headache has quite gone. Lady Evelyn; you are too young to have headaches, vou know. Have you ever grown anemones from seed? You shouid try some; thev grow easily, if vou use fine soil, ■and keep them sufficiently damp. Sow them fairly thinly.—DOT.]

Dear Dot.—Some time ago I noticed two little birds in the bush, the names of which I did not know. One of them was such a tiny little thing.—about the size of the end of a man's thumb. The back feathers are of a greenish colour, and the breast a light grey. From a distance it appears to have no tail, but when you get a closer view it is just noticeable and that is all. Its call also attracted my attention, as it greatly resembles the squeak of a mouse. The other bird is much larger, has a bluish cap on its head, and is a remarkably pretty whistler. I have had two holidays this year. One day I was at a picnic, and the other at the sports, which were held not far from here. The sports day was dull and windy, but that however, did not prevent a large crowd from turning out to enjoy themselves. There was a large programme to be gone throusrh, and much excitement was caused by the wrestling, especially amongst the small- boys. The picnic proved milder, and although there was not such a large crowd as there was at "the sports, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. The young ladies' race was won by Marnys, who shouTc! have been handicapped, as I heat she is much the swiftest of the Quarry Hills slow coaches. Games of "Fill the Gap" a,nd "Twos and TEree3" filled up the time very agreeably.—Yours truly,, BERYL.

[Do. you know the grey warbler a.nd tfe# wren, Beryl? Your description of the first bird makes me think it might be, one of these—rjrobably the wren, aa it has hardly any tail. The s&oond I cannot place: can anv D.L.F. with some bush lore help?— DOT.]

Dear Dot, —It was raining all day r;i Fefc. urday, but it is quite fine again now. W<i have a lot of chickens; some of them are ha-lf grown, and others are small. Longwood

Blossom, do hurry tip and write to me; it ia about three and a-half months since j. wrote to you, and I am tired of waiting for a letter. Our picnic was on Ja-nuary 23. 1 was at it. and enjoyed myself very much. Some time ago my mother, two sisters, and myself went to Waikawa and had a fine time there; when mother said it was time io go home we were not half ready to go.—< Yours truly, SUNBEAM 11. Deai Dot, —1 have not forgotten your page, but have been staying in the mountains with the elves, and was too busy to write. 1 have just finished playing hide and seek with my chums among the hollyhocks, and' a great game we have had. On the mountains we used to have great times ; shooting down the awift flowing streams on __the backs of the mountain ducks, pelting the sheep with bidabids, and running obstacle races over the rocks. Other times we would sit on the topmost peaks of the mountain and look downon the plains below, and trace the creeks where they wound like silver threads down the valley. In the early mornin" we looked down upon the great banks of fog that lay along the foot of the mountain, and Which sometimes crept up and covered them entirely, and made it impossible for anyone to see any object a yard away. By : noon all had vanished, save a few clouds ia the shaded valleys Occasionally a thunderstorm passed along the mountains, rumblinj, and crackling, till the rocks seemed to be falling. Heavy rain accompanied it, and when the storm had passed the mountains •were washed and sweet, and patches of green showed where all was grey before. Then we would come out from the sheltering rocks and play again. Well, Dot, the fairy bells are ringing to show it is time all good pixies were in bed, and the humble bee doses in the poppy, so I will follow his example and retire.—Yours truly, PIXIE. [So it has all come out now. and we know at last how the sheep get bidabids in their fleeces! Oh, Pixie, Pixie, you wicked little sprite! But of course mischief is an essential part of your nature, and we might have guessed long ago—if only mortals were not so obtuse!—that it was you and your brothers and sisters who were at the bottomi of it. How glorious it must be to watch these, thunderstorms roll beneath you! Even a. mortal, dear fairy, can feel the magnificence of the forces of Nature at work, but not many mortals are as free to come and go as you are. so they miss the sights you Fee. Consequently they are glad to get your letters and to hear about these things.—DOl.j

Dear Dot.—l have been reading the. D.L.P. letters for a long time, and take a. great interest in them, and would like to be one of your happy band. I live near that beautiful spot called Lake Hauroto. There are two small boats on the lake, and the launch (Heni-wai) will be runninsr next weesc. I have not been out yot, but will be going soon, and when I come back I will write and tell you all about my trip. A party o 17 was out a week or so ago, and some them brought home some most beautiful kidney ferns and mountain lilies. There are "flowers and ferns of all descriptions, and the bird life there, they say, is beautiful. It is a good thing they are all protected. It seems strange, doesn't it, Dot, that such a. beautiful place should just be getting owned! up? I do not know any D.L.F. yet—Yours truly, HAUBOTO MAID. [I suppose there aie no other D.L.F. in your part of the world, Hauroto M.aid; you. have not many neighbours, have you? I am so interested to hear something about Lake Hauroto; that is a place I want so much to visit some day. I am glad to think I have a D.L.F. there, and hope I shall hear from you again.—DOT.] AUTOS. Ginger Snap (Miss B. Maihieson, Knapdale School) wishes to exchange autos and post-cards with any D.L.F. willing. Hauroto Maid (Alice Rconey, Lillburn, Clifden. Southland) would like to •excnang& ! post-cards with any D.L.F. willing. | Sunbeam 11, Quarry Hills P. 0.- via Inverl oargill would like to exchange autos with i Lady Green. Farmer John, and Hazel Dell. ; Queen of the Vale (Gladys Frame. Wa^nawishes to exchange auto 3 with Butter- ! cur>. Kittie, Waterlily. 'Cornstalk, Mountain Daisy, and any others willing. J S C (Jessie Camobell. care of Mr L. • Campbell, Pukepito, via Balclutha) would I like to exchange autos with Weenm? Wil- ! low, Kittis. and The Last Rose of Summer. ' Prompt replies. Geranium (May care of Mr L. ; Campbell, Pukenito, via. Balcluthn) wishes I to exchange autos with Queen Bess and I Rosebud.

AUTOES. Auto-cards sent to Ruth's Darling.

' BADGES. Badges sent to Dutch Maggie, Beryl, Princess Yarra.