THE BOSS.

Otago Witness, Issue 3111, 29 October 1913, Page 69

THE BOSS.

By I. P

(Written expressly for Dot’s Little Folks.) The Boss was old Finny’s cat. You may have heard of him before; anyway, both he and his master were well worth knowing. This story will tell you of some young people who made their acquaintance. Long ago a party of children, with their fathers and mothers, relations and friends, set out at 4 o’clock in the morning of a lovely summer day, in buggies and springcarts, and diove for hours and hours, until they came to a beautiful bay on the shores of South Otago-. There they picnicked. After having a splendid time on the beach one of the young fellows said h© was going for a ramble in the bush; then up sprang two .little girls, chums of his, saying, at once. “Oh! Mother, may we go, too?” Mother was a little fearful lest they might get lost; but Donald promised that he would take good care of them, and they promised that they would be very good, and do exactly as Donald told them, and all three, being in the habit of keeping promises, were allowed to go. Donald was a bit of a bushranger; he fancied he could see indications of a track leading from Pebbly Bay through the trees and ferns. They did not make great progress at first, because the girls wanted to pick ferns, and examine plants. Donald recommended them to collect specimens on the way back; they would want both hands to help them through thickets of supplejack and bush-lawyer, or over huge fallen trees, or over great boulders, hugged in their roots. They did not encounter as many of. these obstacles as they were expecting; this confirmed their guide in his conclusion that ho had “struck a trail.” Perhaps they had climbed for half an hour when this trail became a track, and the track soon became a plain path, which lead them into a small clearing. On the sunny side of this space, facing north stood a little shanty. This word may suggest to you a miserable, dirty, neglected hut When these children caught eielit of this one they exclaimed, together, “Oh! Isn’t it lovely? Wouldn’t you like to live there?” The path that led to its door was of split fern tree, laid corduroy fashion. This tree, perhaps you know, is very long-suffer-ing; you may cut it down, chop it into short chunks, split them, and lay the pieces tightly side by side, press them into the soft earth, walk over them constantly, yet, instead of giving up hope, they seem to understand that you want them to be ful, and. with marvellous resignation, they eay to themselves, “We’re delighted to be useful; we always have been beautiful, and we mean to be beautiful still. So, you find that they do not laydown and die; they go on lining cheerily; they send out beautiful ' sprays of feathery fronds from each end of the poor wounded logs you have chopped them into; they actually wipe your dusty boots for you, as you step upon them, with those graceful plumes. You cannot help admiring them while they are teaching von a wise lei.son in submission. Our explorers were soon at the door, at which Donald, the bold, knocked loudly, while the girls’ admiration increased. Over the doorway. . along the thafeh, round the tiny open window, a rose vine twined its wreaths, laden with creamy blossoms, it had hung its rich mantle of verdure ever one end of the cot. Against the wall scarlet geraniums stood up, displaying their martia. colours in pride and glory; at their feet grew, humbly, sweet mignonette and fragrant herbs; a vivid line of curly parsley hedged the narrow- boi der a smooth, white stone at the doorstep divided it exactly in the middle. “Oh, how pretty, how pretty!” exclaimed both children, in soft undertones. Again, Donald knocked loudly, without response. The girls, anxious to see the interior of a place so charming, looked disappointed, and Betty, the younger, said: “Do vou think we might go in for a rest?” “Certainly not,” quicklv replied her siVor (two years her senior), “that would he rude. What would mamma say to you! How would you feel when the people came back?” Of course, Betty looked annoyed, and might have answered snappishly, because, usually, she was a very polite little thing; but Donald, who was a sensible fellow-, and understood human nature (he h a< 3 been at the Otago University for more than a year), said, kindly, “ I don’t wonder that Betty wants to see the inside of this pretty place; 1 do myself. We’ll have a walk round; we may find someone.” And so they did. They hadn’t gone far up the steep track behind the hut when they met an old man, with a great load of sticks on his back, and a great pussy walking at his heels. Such a w-itherod, sunbrowned, wrinkled, clean.old man. He flung his bundle down, and stared at the intruders. “ Good-day to you. said Donald, who was always polite. “Good-day,” said the children, demurely. “Hey! What’s that.” shouted the old chap. “We were wishing you good-day,” returned Donald. “Oh. was you, then!” The truth was that Old Finny had lived so Ion" alone, and was so unaccustomed to streaking to anyone, except himself and his cat that the sight of strangers always took him aback. Recovering himself as best he could he took off his hat. and put it under his arm, saying, as he hurried to his door. “And a very good-day I wishes to you, and manv on ’em, likewise, many on ’em.” On the ‘doorstep he turned and made a lowsalaam “Come in, come in, and welcome, truly welcome.” . The children needed no second invitation; they entered at once. The boss had been before them, and was already seated upon

a plump cushion on the hearthrug. What a splendid rug' it was! It took the girls’ fancy; they examined it in wonder, little dreaming that old Finny himself had been its designer and maker. Its substance was a sack, upon which had been worked, in brilliant wools and worsteds, a hug© blue anchor, round which were twined crimson roses; in each corner a rose, a purple thistle, and a spray of bright shamrock were inwrought. Nor was it the only work of art adorning the cabin. On the clean, claywashed walls were coloured portraits of the good Queen Victoria and the Prince ot Wales. The floor was completely covered with white sea-sand. A very small table stood against the wall, under the window, it was covered with a piece of Turkey-red cloth; a little curtain of the same hung at the window frame. On the opposite side a bunk was fixed; the bed it contained was very neatly made, and covered with a red-and-white quilt. In the wide fireplace brushwood and logs were laid, in readiness, when lit. to boil the billy that was hanging by a chain in the chimney; m the nf the shelf over it stood a black teapo , and on either side of the teapot, leant against the chimney a silver-bright tin plate, those three guests took note oi all t ' tive details in less time than it takes t ■ Donald checked the old man in the act stav long, because these little gir might think that they were ail at Finny laughed loud, as he P a liltle for the whole company. ari< j another bench from under the > . two girls from under the bunk; but the were on the rug, stoking pu m monlv handThe boss certainly was uncoi ; mU3t come and big. hen ° . the crown have measured, fr ? m , coat was of of his head, nearly l|ft. W , , ve lvet darkest tabby, with a ,®P ® n top 0 f his trimming stretching f- . o{ his tail; his head ngnt down to „ P o { his ears were vest, his paws, the * £ were peerless, snowy white; his whiskers i Like some handsome peop- . appearfcarod he took advantage of Pi h ut sr » 1 t1,.l ois trnw was “his man. • He is a beauty.” averred Alice -I wish we had him,” said BeUy. But his highness, unaccustomed to atten forepaws and revealed a whole f tran £ parent claws in a menacing manner, -- yawned ominously. " Be a gentleman! reprimanded Finny, whereupon be reposed himself in couchant attitude. and shut his golden eyes upon the invaders The girls troubled him no more with their caries grea t pet of yours, I suppose, Alice ventured to remark. , •He’s mv pal, and good company e is. Where I go ’e goes, and where I stays e stays; where I stops away e stops away, we’re hinseparables. so to speak, we hare. “Have you had him long? asked Betty “That depends,” answered the old fellow, “as ’ow you reckons time. Young ladies, the likes of you, would be thinking a spell of five year long, maybe; an’ ole chap, likes of me, ’e don’t think twenty-five long, e “But pussy isn’t as old as that, is he? inquired Alice. . . „ “No; ’e don’t be above six-year, Missy. ** Six years!** exclaimed both girls together. • That’s a great age—for a cat. “ All depends again, Missy. It s a case of live and let live. If a cat do aye alf a chanct he’ll live, you bet! He 11 outlive any man; and the boss ’ere, he II get a chimct, ’e will, though ’e were a. pretty poor un when I came I came by im. “How did you get him?” questioned Donald. “ Well, it was this wys,” he began, and then paused, left his seat on the end of his bunk, and, going to a box in a corner, brought out a small basket of ripe apples. Ho bended them round, muttering to himself “ To think I’d been forgettin" on ’em all this while." Each took one and found no need for dessert plates, knives, or forks, but, after the manner of the simple life, bit into their rosev cheeks with great relish. Finny, as good host, took one. but merely rolled it from one hand to the other, occasionally polishing it on his sleeve as he continued his interrupted narrative. “When did I come by him, did you arks me, sir? I should say it may Ire a matter of six or seven year agon«. I’d been cam pc ♦ ’ere a pretty goedish while all on my lonesome. when one day T was out getting my hit of firin’ same as it nrght be this afternoon, when I ’ears a miewing and a mivawling somewheres, and I sets out to hunt for them craturs, and I ’unted and I 'unfed; I pokes ’ere and I pokes there, and I poke? yonder—not a bit o’ good. Next day (he miewing and miyawling was worser and worse', an’ all the time I was wantin’ a cat most chiefly. Well, you may believe me or not, but I found a nest of kittens up a tree! Up a ole broadleaf in a fine scooped-out ’oiler as big as a basket! There they was squirming about lively, but no mother with ’em.” “Too bad!” commented the children together, •“ Too bad for those starving little brutes, von may say. I never takes one of ’em that | day, for thinks I to myself, thinks I. the ole cat’ll be back sure enough, and I’d best wait till thev was a bit bigger before I makes off with one. Next day I watches pretty closely and spry, for I was envyous to ’ave one on ’em, but never no mother came along. “Ob dear! Oh, dear!” interjected the girls. I has to conclude that some calamity ’ad overtook the pore, ole parent cat ; ’praps a ’awk ’ad pounced on ’or and eat ’ei.” "• Awkward lor her,” remarked Donald with a smile. “You may say that, sir, an’ for ’or hoffspring likewise. Anywys, she never showed up, an’ I ’ad ’cr starving family thrower! on my ands. I considers of the matter, an’ savs I to myself, says 1,. ’ I can’t undertake to support morn two. so I picks out the perkiest of the lot—him ” —pointing to the Boss, —“ ana’ another. I reluctantly consigns the rest to hobilivion in the rapidest way I knew ’ow.’’ the other one?” inquired Hetty. “ Well, missy, he succumbed ere long, you may bet ycr boots. It was no joke to feed them famishing youngsters! No cows, no milk. Some thin gruel done for milk, and wood pigeons and kakqg for meat, with a trifle of fish rarer—they do ’ave a relish for fish. —but tother un never flourished ; he faded away, an’ grarlerally died, leaving the Boss and me as you find? us —good pals.” “ I wish we had such a lovely pussy,” said Bettv. “ We have only a little black kitten. We’re very good to her, but I’m afraid she'll never be such a beautiful cat as von re.” , “Maybe‘not, missy, for though I says it myself as oughtn’t, I never did see a feline brute ’is equal; an’ he’s as wise as he’s b : —! Tie knows hevery word we’ro saying of.” Here Donald sprang up and said firmly

that they must be going, or their friends would be anxious about them. Finny offered to show them a shorter way to the beach than the one they had taken from it. At the first movement he made the Boss rose, followed him, and as he went out jumped on his shoulder, where he securely balanced himself as the old man walked quickly along. When they came in sight of the sea Finny bade his new briends —for such, indeed, they were—farewell, adding, “ When you comes apicnicking again you knows where to find ole Finny an’ ’is cat." “ Indeed we will.' Thank you —thank you very much,” they responded cheerily as they raced across the sands, full of admiration for funny old Finny, his cot, and his cat. Those children were never again to visit that spot, yet the vision of it has never faded from their recollection, and to the end of their days—does this seem strange to you?—the atmosphere of that little hut, its cleanliness, orderliness, kindliness, has never lost its influence over their lives. LETTERS RECEIVED DURING OLD WRITERS’ WEEK. Despite the notification, repeated more than once, thft no letters received during Old Writers’ Week could be published, I received a very considerable number. These I shall be unable to publish, as they would make too great & demand on the space at our disposal, which is limited. All I can do, therefore, is to make an acknowledgment below of those from whom letters have come. I am sorry I can do nothing further; but space in the Otago Witness is precious. The following is a list of names of those from whom letters have been received.— Wagtail No. 2 Weeping Willow Zylphinia Keob Mya Snow Crystal Little Buttercup The Blacksmith Moonbeam Water Waif Dusty Miller A. M. C. L. Oak Tree Kiss Me in the Dark Queen Catherine Lone Wolf Coal Sylvie Golden Locks Fatty Lilac Blossom Tiny Pink Heather Bloom Kahikitea Loveday Yum Yum Princess Patricia Heather Lintie Lady Turpin N. T. W. Lady Victoria Ines Somebody’s SweetThe Beardless Boy heart Princess Eva Black Moose Alex the Country Winnie Lad Summer First letters to the page have been received from — Tar-ati, who writes from Dargaville, and is quite a competent Maori speaker. The Salt Grinder ' Someone’s Darling Tangles Kowhai Flower East Orion Wahlne Mizpah Mnnco Stock-driver Black Wolf Patriotic Paul Mavournee Hepsbyah I have much pleasure in enrolling those mentioned above as members of our band. DOT. DUNEDIN CLUB NOTES. Motto: “ One head is better than none, but two arc better!” The Frog has much pleasure in announcing that by special request it has again resumed its croaking. I also wish to add here that, despite the many ” baited ’ fishhooks that’ have been placed m our way, not one of them did we bite, for I am fully aware of the fact that we have a long life before us yet 7 and therefore did not wish to have it shortened in any way whatever, as would be the case were any of the L.F. to capture me alive—at least, unawares. All those comrades who contributed toward O.W.W. are to be complimented on the loyalty and devotion which they still hold to Queen Dot and to tlie page. Long may such loyalty continue is the sincere wish of this critic. This critic sends it? heartiest congratulations to both Harry and Bert on their respective ‘ engagements.” Well done, Possum! You carried out the duties of chairman in a most capable manner indeed. What a pity there was not a larger attendance of members. In Froggie'a judgment you took the right course in postponing the night’s debate till some future date, for the subject is toe good a one to be played with, isn’t it? This critic was somewhat disappointed at the small attendance of last meeting. Even our president did not put in an appearance till a late hour; but his absence was no doubt clue to some other important engagement, for it is a very rare occurrence for Fiancis to be late. Your chair was awaiting your arrival last Tuesday nigrit, Girlie, but remained vacant. Did you lose your way or did you forgetit was club night? Which, comrade? The Frog was very pleased to make your acquaintance while in town, May Blossom. Did you enjoy the meeting at which you were present, comrade? Como again. Yon are most heartily welcome to our social circle. Thank you, Orsen, for entertaining us on your subject of “Trafalgar Day." This critic enjoyed listening to you immensely, and hopes that in the near future you will again deal with that subject, as it is of the utmost interest of one. Silverdale also added greatly to the enjoyment of the evening. To hear this comrade recite ’ The Man From Snowy River” and “The Man From the Iron Bark’’ is quite a treat. To any person who is a victim of that terrible feeling commonly known as the dumps or the blues, The ‘Fro<- would recommend a course for one night oAicarin" Silveixlaip recite any of tlie above-mentioned ~A cl,re "'dl be the result. I will then be a case of “laugh, and the world laughs with you! No more just, now.— Yours, as alert as ever > • THE FROG. LETTERS FROM THE LITTLE FOLF Motto;—We wirte for the benefit of othera. no: tor ourselves. No letter to contain more than 450 words. Dear Dot,— I To-night there is a heavy fog. which is making everything damp. Wc have 2C cows milking and I milk sc ven night and morning. I was down to sec the Tyrone on the rocks at Wahine Point. Did you go clown to see her? Last Friday night I was at a concert at Portobollo, and there I saw Geranium. Dianthus. and Red Primrose. 1 stopped till the end of the dance, and enjoyed myself very much. Wo have 36 chickens and 11 little ducklings. All our daffodils have' done flowering, but we have

a few jonquils out. Our rcso trees are covered with buds, and I hope they will soon be out in bloom. To-day I made a batch of scones, and they turned out a success. I wanted Simple Simon to write, but he couldn’t get a pen, so he wouldn’t write. As I sit here writing this letter I can hear the fog signal at the Heads booming. I will close now, and go to bed, for I shall have to get up early in the morning to milk. With love to all the L.F,, and yourself,— Yours truly, SCARLET FUNGUS. [I was not fortunate enough to see the Tyrone. I think it rather distressing to see such a fine boat lying useless, at the mercy of the waves.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —What kind of weather are you having at present? It is not very good here. To-day has been very colij. The creeks are flooded, and it is still raining. We have all our ploughing done, and are planting oats and grass. We are milking two cows, both night and morning. We sold another one on Tuesday. My father has to milk them. We had a lovely clump of daffodils out, but they are all withered now. When you write for autc-cards, Dot, do you send the money in stamps ? I must now close. With love to all the D.L.F., not forgetting yourself,—Yours trulv, KOWHAI. [Yes, Kowhai, stamps are, I think, the best to send for a small amount. —DOT.] Dear Dot, —This is my first letter to your page, and I hope you will let me join your happy band. I am 12 years old, and am in the Third Standard at school. I have one sister and two brothers. My two brothers are in the First Standard at school. A creek called the Merry Creek flows quite near our house, and trout come up past here in the summer. There are a lot of flowers out up here, and such lovely bush, quite near our house. We are milking one cow. and her name is Molly. One of my brothers is learning to milk her. As this is my fust letter I shall stop.—Yours truly. ' WHITE LILAC IT. [Welcome to the page. White Lilac 11. As there is already a White Lilac, I have had to number you the second. You must be living in a beautiful spot.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —May I become a member of your page? I am li years old, and am in the Third Standard. Mrs Gordon is the name of our teacher, and I like her very much. There are 18 children going to our school. We have a lamb, which we call Julia, and a calf we call Merry. We have some pet cats —Darkle. Tom, and Bully are their names. There are nice flowers out at our place. I have two brothers and one sister. Love to all the D.L.F., not forgetting yourself,—Yours trulv, PINK MAY. [With such a number of merry things around you I am sure you little people will not belie the name of your place. Certainly, you may join us, dear. —DOT.] Dear Dot, —I was very pleased to see my first letter in the page. I read a lot of your letters. Little Buttercup has gone to live in Reef ton. Happy Fairy has had the whooping-cough, and all the rest of the children in school have had it. We have three cats, and their names are Snowy, Grey Eyes, and Tom. We have a dog called Maggie. My father has two cows, but only one is in milk. The kowhai is out in bloom, and the clematis is in bud. I shall close now. as it is time for me 'to go to bed. Love tc all tlie L.F., not forgetting yourself,—Yours truly SEARCHLIGHT 11. [Quite a number of children appear to have the whooping-cough. It is such a dis'tressiug complaint, that I hope Happy Fairy is now quite recovered. What a sight the kowhai is when in full bloom! —DOT.] Dear Dot, —I wish to join your band of D.L.F.. and tips is ray first letter to vnur page. I am 11 past, and am in the Third Standard. We are having very wet weather just now. I like to see the lambs frisking about. I have 23 birds’ eggs. We have four hens sitting—three on hens’ eggs and the other on ducks’ eggs. I have four sisters and one brother. We are not far out of tlie township. W*’en I see a Witness I read some of the C.L.F. letters: but we do not get the Witness —only the Daily Times. We have a little garden with peas, beans, and cabbages in it. I bad a little grey rabbit also a dog. but it hurt its back, and my father had to kill it. It is very windv to-night, and cold. I know only one D.L.F. at our school. We have not a net, but we would like one very much. I like to see the fruit trees in their nice white blossoms. I have not much of a garden yet Our schoolmaster is sick. aiVl w» have a week’s holiday I c’o«i now—Yours truly, THE N.Z. WATTLE. am“sorrv that we have already a writer who c o N.D.P. is Wattle, «jo I have perforce to sb<'ht.lv vary your N.D.P. to distinguish you.—DOT.] Dear Dot.—l hone you will let. rao join your ever-increasing hand. I have left school, and am staying with one ox my sis.ers. X have eight pet lambs. Dot. Is not tna. a lar<r e family? Onlv four of them have names. They arc Scott, Coly, Bessie, and Ruby. We live about 12 miles- out of V\ inmate. on tlie "orthom side. We are going to drive into Waimate to-morrow if it does not rain. We have the telephone on to the house and I often ring uo my sister, who lives in Waimate. We milk only one cow. Next month will be a very busy time with _ the shearers, so wc shall be kept very bus\ all dav. Well, Dot, it is getting late, so I must close, hoping you will let me .loin your happy band. With love to all, not forgetting yourself,-Yours g^HELY. [Glad to number you among our L.F, Lady Barkly. It is splendid being able to converse by moans of the telephone with friends. —DOT.] Dear Dot.—T wrote to you a good while back, but I did not s»c ray letter in the Witness. I take a great interest in the D L F The weather up here is very unsettled. It is raining to-night, and some davs it is very windy. Sometimes I go out fishing, but do not get many, as it gets very cold in the evening. We have most of our garden planted. The seeds are growing very fast. Even the oats are up out of the ground I think I shall close. With love to Airship and all other L.F., not forgetting yourself, Dot,—Yours truly, J ’ GRANDROSE. [Your letter must have gone astray, Grandrose. However, 1 hope you will not be disappointed this time. —DOT.] Dear Dot,—Once again I have the pleasure of writing you a few lines. We have all got back to school again, and it seems quite different. We play rounders nearly every day at school, and have red flags for our bases. There have been a few very warm days, and we played marbles instead of rounders, as it is too hot running after the ball. Wo have a school garden here this year. The boys, sow vegetable seeds and the girls flower seeds. The Novis is always a, very backward : place in the spring, on account of the cold i weather; but wc have a few different kinds 1 of heeds up. I am superintendent of

the girls and the school master h> superintendent of the beys. 1- don’t expect w© shall have this garden next year, as we are getting a new school, and it is not going to be built anywhere aboift here. W© are going to have it moved up into the township. Some of ns will then have a long way to go to school, but it will be a shorter distance for thij majority of the children. What a lovely day this has been, and I only wish this weather would continue. Last Thursday was very rough. It enowed nearly all day, but the snow did not lie—it soon melted, and the roads dried up again. What kind of weather are you having down there. Dot? I must close now. With love to all the D.L.r., not forgetting yourself,—Yours truly, WHITE CAPE BROOM. [The weather here is somewhat varied. Cape Broom. It is unusual to have a- wholly fine day without a shower of rain at soared odd time.—DOT.] Dear Dot —lt is weeks since I wrote to you last, and I suppose you were thinking I had forgotten you. The grass is beginning to grow, and the sheep and cattle are beginning to rise in condition. Our chief gama at school is rounders. We have a base shaped like tho letter D, and have thred pegs with flags, which we run round. Wa have started gardening at school. We hava it for the last hour every Friday, and it Ja fine fun—far better than sitting in the school doing arithmetic or drawing, Dot. Wo hava to walk two miles to school, but wo shall not have to do it for many months more, for tenders have been called for a new school, and that will be grand, won’t it. Dot? 'Now. I must close. With love to all' the Little Folk and vourself —Yours truly, , BUFFALO BILL iL [lt certainly will be splendid when year new school is erected, Bill. I can ipingina how much you prefer gardening to writing.— DOT.] Dear Dot, —It seems such a long time since I wrote to you last, but I still watch the letters that are »ent to your page. We are going to have a new school built, hut 1 don’t know when, ior it is not decided where it is going to be built. The weather ha# been lovely until a few days ago, when there was a snowstorm. .We have a school garden, and I have a row of sweetwilliani and wallflower, and one of my schoolmates has pansies and mignonette. We are all back to school again,- and it seems so different. Our chief game is rounders, but some days it is too hot, and then wo play marbles. Now. I shall draw my letter to a close. With love So Chestnut and White Cape Bro.-m.—Y’oura truly, EARLY RISER. [I suppose you arc quite proud of your garden. Early Riser. I have a number of sweet peas up, and I study them carefully each day, and feel so pleased at the progress they are making.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —It is a while since I wrote to yon. All the children have come hack, and there are now IS nearly every week. We play rounders and marbles at school—rounders mostly. We have a school garden. Tile boys sow vegetable seeds and the girla flower seeds. I have sown paiisies anil mignonette, and some sunflower:. We ur© having good weather this' week, and most of tho children are in their bare feet. Early Riser and I are barefooted to-day. I have finished my samples in sewing and the cocks. My granny went away yesterday in the mail coach, and I think they had a good day. I cannot think of anything piorn to-day, so I shall close. With love to Early Riser, White Cape Broom, and the rest of 1. ha Little Folk, not forgetting yourself.— Tours truly, ' CHESTNUT. (You must be having warmer weather ; ban we are experiencing in Dunedin, Chestnut, as I should not care to venture out without a topcoat. Sandal-, and bare Togs have no* appeared yet.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —This is my first letter (o your page, and I wish to become a member o t your happy band. I was sick a while ago, and did not go to school for about two months; but I have started again now. Wo had bad weather here last week. We have started our school garden. At school .we play rounders, marble?, and many other noises. I am 12 years of age. and in the Fourth Standard. A good many of the children aro going with bare feet now. us it is getting warmer. A good many children belonging to this school are writing to you. We are going to get a new school soon. Love io all the Little Folk and yourself.—Yc.rvra truly, GARDENER. [I am so .sorry to learn you have been ill, Gardener, but glad to hear you are better, and back at school again. Certainly you may join us.—DOT.] Dear Dot,—lt is a long while since I ia=t wrote, and I thought I would pen a f.var linos to-night. Our dog Sandv died to-night. Ho was 11 years of agee The dairy factory has started down here. I bare a vegetable garden. We have played two football matches this season, and won one. We had out examination in August, arc! I was beaten' by a mark for second place. I shall soon have to go to bed, as it is 9 o’clock.— Vours truly, SCHOLAR. [I am pleased yon did well in your examination, Scholar. I suppose 11 rears is a good age fer a dog to live.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —Some time lias elapsed sine© my last letter was seen in print. I intended writing before now. but kept putting it off. However, "all’s well tiiat ends well’’; so her© I am, like the proverbial bad penny. W© are enjoying real summer weather now, and the grass is looking fresh and green. Tho roads also are in splendid order at present, especially for biking. We enjoy life better since there is a change in the weather, as everything looks so cheerful. I persuaded a girl friend to also write to the page, and she is signing herself Lily Dahl. We have about 90 cows, but only 40 of them are milking at present. There ’arc four milking machines going in the summer. There aro about 22 cab'es to feed, and I must say it takes a lot of work looking after them. Lily Dull! and I hiked over to Wyndhaxn oil Thursday last to see the Flower Show. There was a splendid collection of daffodils, primroses, and such like there Considering tho day, I cannot say there was a very largo attendance at the show. There is to be a Rose Show later on. Oh, by the way, I must not forget to ask Sheila how she enjoyed her bicycle ride the other Sunday; and you also, Killarney’s Mute. I think you must lie asleep, as I never see a letter from you in the Witness at all now, Mildred is keeping very quiet, tod. Wake up, comrades, and set to work. 1 received your 3 letter, and wilj answer it as soon as possible Well, dear Dot, I am so sleepy that my hand almost refuses to write, so I must now stop. With fondest love to all tho D.L.F., not forgetting yourself,-—Your? truly. CUSHENDIN LASSIE. [I am sure, dear, you will be kept busy with such - a large family to look after, but it is really amusing to waten the calves feeding.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —As there i? nobody at boms. I thought I would pen a few lines to the dear old page. What a number of new L.P.,y<m are getting. Dot! All our bulbs have/ dona flowering. The lilac is in bloom, and looks' so pretty. Our lilies aro not out yet. W® have Christmas lilies, tiger liliea, orange

lilies, lilv of the Nile, lily of the valley, and white and blue iris lilies. We have poppies, carnations, stock, granny’s bonnet, sweet peas, wallflower, Solomon’ seal, red, white, and yellow daisies, and shivery grass. We have a garden at school, and it has a lilac bush in it. We have three plum trees and two peach trees We have not any orchard, but these little trees grow about the place. 1 have planted five veronica trees and an oak tree, which is growing very well, also a wattle tree, and we have a bluegum tree. We have a lot of little fir trees growing in our place. We have two swings, Dot. I think we are going to have a lot of gooseberries ftnd currants this year. I am nine years old, and am in the Third Standard. Yours truly, ORANGE LILY. [You have quite an extensive garden. Orange Lily, and I am sure will be kept busy attending to it. You must have splendid times on the swings.—DOT.] Dear DotWe are having splendid weather just now. I am in the Third Standard at school. My brother has five pigeons. My mother has six ducks and ge\en chickens, and three kittens. My sister has a white rabbit. My sister and I have a nice toyhouse. I must stop now. —\ours truly, GOLDEN LOCKS. [What a lot of playfellows you have, Golden Locks. I am sure you have a splendid time with ycur toyhouse.—DOT.] Dear Dot,—We are having fine weather at present! I know a number of D.L.F. now. There are five D.L.F. at our school who write to your page. We milk four cows, and arc feeding two calves. I have one pet lamb and a white rabbit. My mSther has had good luck with her young ducks. There are 20 children going to our school. I like reading the D.L.F. letters. The kowhai is out in bloom just now, and it looks like a tree of gold. Dot, did you ever see a frog or hear one? I heard one, but that is all. I must stop now. With love to all file D.L.F.. not forgetting yourself, Dot, —Yours truly, GOLDEN RING. [lt is a magnificent sight to see the kowhai in bloom. les, dear, I have seen *nd heard frogs, but I must confess I am not fond of touching them. —DOT.] Dear Dot,—l would like very much to Irecome one of your Little Folk, because I like reading their letters, and wish to became acquainted with some of them. I am nine years of age, and in the First Standard at the Miller’s Flat School. Our exam, is this week, and we are anxious to pass. Two of my sisters are going to school with me. There are six of us—all girls. The youngest are twins. They are about 20 months old, and are two beauties, and as like each other as two peas. We have two cows and two calves. The cow is giving a lot of nice milk, and a heifer will soon be calving. There is a gentleman staying at our place who is teaching ns to play draughts. I am very fond of the game, but my sister is the best player. She can beat dad. and sometimes the gentleman, but I think he lets her have a game sometimes, just to please her. We have a nice flower garden, and it takes all our spare time to keep the weeds clear. Now, dear Dot, I must end this letter, and hope to be able to send a better one next firnc. Love to all the D.L.F., and not forgetting yourself,—Yours truly, ORMAGLADE. [I shall be glad to have you for a D.L.F., Ormaglade. I think your letter was most interesting. What lovely times you must have with the twins.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —We have a week’s holiday from school, but we go back on Tuesday. The daffodils are all done now. We have 11 chickens out of 36 eggs, and have another hen sitting on 12 eggs. We have the white lilac out, but have not the blue. Wo got a young plant the other day. I think I shall stop. With kindest love to all the D.L.F. and yourself and the editor, —Yours truly, MYTYL. [Our lilac is a beautiful sight at present, Mytyl. Both varieties are in full bloom. I hope you have enjoyed your holidays.— DOT.] Dear Dot, —As it is a few years since 1 wrote to you last, I think it is time to write again. Since I last wrote I noticed a D.L.F. had taken my N.D.P., so I am going to change mine. My lasj, N.D.P. was Greengage, Our roses are in bud, and they will soon be out in bloom. We have sweet peas planted round our garden fence, and they are through the ground. Most of the vegetables are up, too. Our garden looks nice when the fruit trees are in blossom, but only the apples trees are out now. Did you s?mo up to see the daffodils on Daffodil Day? Did you like the daffodils, and did you sec the Flower Show? Our examination was on October 10. Wo have a hen with chickens, and have another hen sitting on some eggs. Most of tho children about here have the measles. I have had tho English measles, but these are a different Kind. My father is going to shear our four pet lambs in the beginning of November. Be says it is too cold to shear them yet. W© have two dogs, which will shako hands ivhen you ask them. As my news is exsha *l conclude. With love to all the D.L.F. and yourself,—Yours truly, FRAU KARL DRUSCHKI. [I was unable to go up to see the daffodils, dear, but attended the show in Dunedin and was qnraptnred with the beauty and variety of the flowers.—DOT.] Dear Dot,—l was away for a fortnight’s hohdny and I enjoyed it splendidlv. I ?iavc a black rabbit. ■ Please will you give me a name for it? I like going to Sunday i ?° ’ i, ff uite finished reading a book called bavourite Fairy Tales.” There are no flowers out in the school garden just now I was 10 years old last June, and ‘L f? ° OC " iany r rcsuntii - A gentleman inend gave me a guinea.—Yours truly rv ’ OTAPIRI. [Your letter seems to have been engaged in conflict with the ink bottle, dear, and fared badly, too. Do you think Chloe a pretty name? I rather like it.—DOT.] nn°\v ai , n ‘ akin §- the Privilege of Old Writers Week to pen you a few lines. When I was 12 years old I wrote to Dot, and that was my first and only letter, so I ought to be ashamed to own it. That was 13 years ago. for I am 25 now. I have been married five years. I have one little boy who is three years old. I am very fond of children. My sister left here yesterday after a weeks holiday, and 1 miss her, even though she was here just a week. She wrote Ler first letter to you about five or si years ago, and a few months ago, she told me, she wrote her second, but It never appeared in print. Her nom de plume was Princess Eana, but I have noticed by the Witness that another D.L.F. has taken that pen name. How we came to'get our. N.D.P.’s was this way: Her name being Edna, and mine Ileana, we thought we would put Princess before the names —at least, I did. for I wrote years before Princess Edna. But when my sister did write she called herself by her present name, with a title in fronted it. I was at a dance a v„cvk and enjoyed it, immensely. I was always fond of dancing. Well, dear Dot. I hope yon will be able to read this scrawl. 1 wonder where all my old D.L.F. correspondents are

now? Scattered everywhere, I suppose. I have just read a book named *' Elaine," but it is not particularly striking. All books by the author of it (Charles Garvice) are the same old story. Don’t you think so. Dot? We have been having dreadful weather here lately. There is to be another dance to-morrow night, and I hope the ram clears off for it, as I intend going. Now, dear Dot and D.L.F., you will think this very stale for an 0.W., but this is just my second letter to page. With kindest regards to all D.L.F. and yourself,—Yours truly, PRINCESS ILEANA. [I hope you will not allow so long a time to elapse before you reappear again in 0.W.W., Princess Ileana; but I am delighted to hear from you. I have no liking for books by the author you mention. —DOT.] Dear Dot, —Since I last wrote we have had a few fine days, but not too fine. There has been a lot of wind, but not much rain. They put the endless rope in the new mine on the 10th of this month, and it was tried Sunday afternoon, and found to work all right, so on the -Monday I was put on hooking, and the first set (four a set) that I clipped on went about 100 yards up tho Bray incline. Then they broke away, and ran back, but fortunately, everybody was away from the bottom, so all was well. Tuesday went without any trouble. Wednesday morning the engine-driver found the rope of! one of the wheels, and when they went to fix it found to the miners’ surprise that the axle was almost worn through, so the miners had to go home again. The rope started again in four hours, and is going without much trouble now. 1 think I shall close. Hoping you are well, and all the other D.L.F., — Yours truly, SPARROWHAWK. fl expect you had quite an exciting time with your ropes, Sparrowhawk. How fortunate no damage was done!—DOT.] Dear Dot, —It is with deep regret I take up my pen to write ray farewell letter to the page. I have been writing to it for about four years, and have enjoyed doing so very much. I wish now I had started earlier to write, for I always took an interest in the page, but it was a long time before I made up my mind to write to it. Numbers read the letters, but, like myself, are a Jong time contemplating; but don’t hesitate any longer, comrades, for I’m sure you’ll enjoy doing so once you begin. I have always noticed that Dot’s ready sympathy is extended to all the Little Folk if they are in trouble, and she has always a kind answer to any questions asked. Well, dear Dot, there is one pleasure in store for me—Old Writers’ Week. I also correspond with numbers of the Little Folk, so 1 shall still feel in touch with the page. Our district is looking very pretty just at present with its fields of crop* and green trees. It is just a year last month since I came here. It doesn’t seem so long as that. The older one gets the quicker time flies, does it not? Our annual school social was held in the woolshed last September 19, and it was a great success. You have my very best wishes for the page’s success, Dot. I suppose I’ll have to say good-bye now till next September, but it seems such a long way off. With best love and wishes to all D.L.F. comrades, not forgetting Dot,-Yours truly, m [I am sorry the time has arrived when you must cease to be an active correspondent, Red Wing. but. I shall look forward to hearing from you nexu Old Writers Week. It is nice to know you have found pleasure and enjoyment from tho page, andit lightens one’s labours to receive such an acknowledgment. —DOT..] Dear Dot,— Just-a few more lines to the dear old page, although 1 > regret as this must be my last letter as a present-day writer. The time has come for srs u frirr.”b»t seven I penned my first mtter to our late beloved Dot. and during that time I have spent some of also pondering over’ J- \ ° t ’ m correspond the rangeol snow-clad hills just behind, and the beautiful green fields are so pretty When I first thought of writing to the page I made up my mind I would write regularly but I am afraid I have not been a very’ good correspondent, although I have always taken the keenest interest m the ra r, e 5 I shall always look forward to Old Writers’ Week, although it seems a long while to wait before we can write to dear Dot again. Now dear Dot. I shall say farewell till next September! and Litt.c p’oik rally round Queen Dot and write often to the page. Wishing tho D.L.F. page every success, and thanking you, dear Dot, for answering any questions I have asked m my letters, and with best love to all the D.L.J'., YCUrS THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER. [Thank you for your kind appreciation, Last Rose'of Summer, and I hope to see a letter from you next O.W.W. I am so sorry you have reached the retiring stage, but as Redwing correctly states, “ time flies quickly as one grows older.” so next O.W.W. will be here before we realise it. —DOT.] Dear Dot.—This is my first letter to your page, and I wish to join your happy band. I have one sister and one brother. My sister is going to school with me. She is seven years old, and I am 11, and my brother is three years old. I have three guinea pigs. Some of mv schoolmates belong to your happy band.' I hope you will excuse my short letter.—Yours truly, BRIDE’S BLOSSOM. [Glad to have yen for an L.F., dear, and to know vou have friends among our people. —DOT.] Dear Dot.— Most of the farmers down here have finished sowing their oats. We have three pet lambs, and their names are Bully, Dick and Lucy. The inspector will be coming in a week or two. and I hope to pass, as then I shall bo in the Fourth Standard. There was an accident here last Sunday, by which a man got badly hurt, and is now in the Winton Hospital. As it is bedtime I think I must close. Love to Fairy Maid, Old Station, and all tho L.F., not forgetting yourself,—Yours truly, INQUISITIVE BOY. [I also hope yo i do well in your examination, Inquisitive Boy. so we shall wish hard for you to pass. —DOT.] Dear Dot, —Father and I were going out riding to-day, but as the rain is pouring down we bad to postpone it. Scotch Heather’s mate, Minnie Clyde, has been staying with us, and went away yesterday, so we are feeling a bit lonely to-day. I always think a wet day accentuates one’s loneliness. Two months ago my cousin. Moss Rose, stayed with us for a week, and we had a grand time. She and I stayed one night at Hazelstick’s new home. Wo felt quite honoured, as we were the first visitors to stay all night. I tried to persuade Hazelstick to write for 0.W.W., but he wouldn't. Perhaps he felt too shy, so soon after joining the list of benedicts. Since I last wrote, my grandmother, who was an invalid for 15 months, passed away at the age of

85. We all missed her very much, but know that she is better off. I stayed with my mother and grandfather three weeks after the funeral, and helped with the spring-clean-ing, etc. It was a pleasant change for me, as here our nearest neighbour is a mile away, while my mates, Laura and Norah. lived about half a mile away from grandfather's, so we often saw one another. One Sunday after church Laura, Norah, her little brother, and I set out to walk to the beach. What a tramp we had! As part of our way led across the sandhills our shoes were well filled with sand. We climbed right up to the top of the peninsula, and had a splendid view of sea and land. As it was 10 years since I had been to that beach everything was new to me. On reaching the top we sat down to rest, and it was amusing to see the glances directed on us from the people on the sand below, as much as to say, “ Who are you, and what are you doing perched up there?” As we descended the tide- began to rise, so we hunted about for shells, but, finding none, sat down on some rocks to watch the waves, which wero rolling in and thundering on tho cliffs. Soon we had to move, and as the sky looked threatening, we started homeward. When we arrived we were very tired hungry; but Laura's mother had a nice tea waiting for us, and I don’t think I ever enjoyed tea so much before as I did that night. After tea we listened to some music supplied by one of Laura’s brothers, who is a very good player ou the violin; then Laura and Norah played some pieces on the piano. I arrived home before dark, and was glad to retire early, having spent a most enjoyable afternoon. Mother and I went to Dunedin one day, and as we had an hour before train time, a friend took us up to Eoslyn and round the Town Belt in the char-a-banc, and we had a splendid view of tho town and across the baj f . I was quite sorry when the lime came to say good-bye; but as Laura says she is coming up at Christmas, I am looking forward to having a good time then. There are three cows milking just now, but I think four will make up the number for the summer. Sheepshearing time will scon be here, and then the cooks will be busy. I think Scotch Heather will be away, so I shall not need to let my wits go ‘ wool-gathering. " There are numbers of little lambs frolicking about, but the pet father brought in for me would not drink, so we put it up in the paddock to cat grass. I was pleased to see you tiad such a good roll call of O.W.’s, and that The Helmsman did not forget us. though for away. I shall close now. With love to Laura and Norah, hoping to see a letter in the page from them soon, —Yours trul y- ESSIE. [I am sure you must be kept busy at shearing time, Essie. —DOT.J Dear Dot,—This is my first letter to your page, and I hope you will let me join your happy band. I like reading the D.L.F. letters, and I find them very interesting. \\e have a big flower garden, and it is doing well, as nearly all the seeds that were put in have come on all right. We have a lot of flowers out—sweet peas, wallflower pansies, carnations, sweet lilac, and violets! I think I shall have to close now, as this is all the news. Love to Ivanhoe and all the rat of the D.L.F. friends and yourself,—Yours truly, M;R J OH NS TONI'S BLACK PIG-. CTour sweet yeas are surely early dear We have -some quite 7ft high, but they are W m llower ,' Certainly you may join 1-ettel—DOt']° * Plea3e ' put yollr heiress next Dear Dot.—We have two cows milking now, , . « 13 Z° ! "S dry. I have aLthe^ little sister, and her name is Margaret -Ellen. We went out last night to hear a gramophone There is a hoinfstead up past cur p ace that I go to some Saturdays P a nd they have a nice big flower, fruit, and vegev table garden. It i 3 a very pretty plait Some of my playmates write to you NoV dear Dot, I shall have to clrfse for ft ’ bedtime. With love to all the L P and jourself, Youcs truly, ROSALIND rcin v SU iood Se tim argar ! et and have off—dot!]* 3 ° f tho hom * 3tea <* you speak £ e , ar . Dot,—-I always read the page with great interest, and have been thinking writing, but have only iuat mall * ° zyxsis d“"ot‘°.iwa y “ e to actions, do they, Dot? I am not very good at writing; m fact, I did not cari for writing at one time, but rather like it now It is almost summer again. How quickly the spring lias passed! All the spring flowers are past now. There are some beautiful clematis flowers growing in the bush here. It is * very hilly district; but I prefer tho hills to the plains, especially when they are covered with bush. The clematis looks so pretty amongst tho green bush. Wo have been able to secure two or three lovely bunches. It is a pity they do not last longer when jiulled ; but if you ean manage to get a long stem, and put the end in a deep basin of water, they sometimes last more than a week. We have no flowers out at the present time, and I miss them. I do not care for gardening, but my mother likes it, so she does a good deal of it. and I get the flowers for my vases. I think a few flowers in a room improve it immensely. I read of tho death of Gravel a short while ago. I was very sorry to hear of it, as I always read his letters, and thought them so bright and cheerful. I am sure it must have l>een hard for him to be so bright, as some of us get cross when we have to stay inside only for a day or two with only a little ailment We live four miles from the nearest post office, which would not be so bad if the road was good; but in one place it was almost impassable in the winter. We petitioned the County Council to get something done to it. I love riding, and very often ride down for tiie mail. I like cycling, too, but it is only in summer time that it is possible to use a bicycle. Isn’t tho kowhai pretty when it is out? We have several trees on our place, and I am sorry to see that it is almost faded away. I do not know if anyone else has taken the N.D.P. which I have chosen. There are such a great many D.L.F. one would think they would have taken every name under the sun. I think I must close now. Houing you will accept me as one of your L.F., —Yours truly, FEATHERY RATA. [Clad to welcome you to our circle Feathery Rata The ingenuity and originality of the L.F. in their choice of names speaks volumes. I think, for their powers of observation. —DOT.] Dear Dot.—Christmas is gradually coming round again, and the old year is slowly going out. All the apple trees arc in blossom,” and tho gooseberries are growing, while the grass is springing up like a mushroom. We have a lot of lambs now. Yomxr rabbits are running alxmt everywhere, and our dairy factory is open. and_ the suppliers running their cans full of milk. We have a young pup, and when I was going away to-dav I was told to take him with me for

a run. I was crossing through a paddock with sheep in it, and when he saw a sheep running he chased it to the end of the paddock. I called him, but he would not come back, so at last I chased him and gave him a thrashing when I caught him. I have only two chicks just now. Our rhubarb is starting to seed early. I often gather birds’ eggs, and have now four dozen. I think I am worth robbing. Some of the trees are very hard to climb, and these usually have the most eggs in them. We have one pet lamb, two cows, and two calves. There are 16 dredges working down here. We play cricket at our school, and the girls play rounders. The last book I read was one of Clive’s heroes. I have a bicycle. There are not many young rabbits about, as it has been too wet, and most of the holes are full of water; but there are a number of hares. We have had a few days’ rain here lately. It won’t be long before we shall be getting our Christmas holidays. We have a lot of pansies out i ow. Do you like train travelling? I don't. I can see the Blue Mountains from here—they have their tablecloths on now: and we can also see Mount Wendon. I am living with an old bachelor, and he is a good cook—better than many women. It is hard work washing clothes, don’t you think, especially when not in the humour for doing it? We have a lot of hens’ eggs, and will v soon be starting to preserve some for the winter. I used to know another old bachelor who harrowed with three horses and rode one after them. I have been going about skinning dead lambs, and salting their skins. I am going to make a colonial mat out of them. I am going to send it to the AVellington Museum. I thought of sending it to you, Queen Dot, as it would Ire nice to put your cold feet on at night. I must bring this uninteresting letter to a - ■ nUl/. [You appear to derive plenty of enjoyment out of a busy life, Golden Rod A dog who chases the sheep would be quite useless, I suppose, on a farm. DOT.] NOTICE TO CORRESPONDENTS. An Outram School pupil, who bas evudently written on previous occasions has sent in a letter which was not signed by either a N.D.P. or the writer’s own name. BuiDESMAin. —Sorry I cannot accept kttrs written with a pencil. AN OLD WRITER’S LETTER. Dear Dot,—For a start I shall wish you a very hearty welcome as our now queen, and a long and prosperous life, with plenty of good health and good wealth. I shall gnc you a few lines on bush life. At this time of the year it is very pleasant to i alb along the edges of the bush about 6 ©clock in the morning and from 6 to half-past i or 8 in the evening, and to hear the various kinds of birds whistling their good-morning and good-night songs. One hears the bellbird and the tui above all the others, and may see them gathering moss, hair and feathers, and taking them in their beaks to where they are making their nests. About December one can go out in the morning and see the old birds gathering grubs and insects to feed their young ones. If one pocs near where they have their nests they will drop their wings and look as savage as possible. They are not nearly so noisy in the breeding peason as they are before they start to breed. About this time of the year we see the honey bee out in the gardens as soon as the sun is up, gathering the honey for the next winter s supply. Xhey get quite a lot of honey in the bush out of the clematis and lawyers and many other bush flowers without coming to the gardens at all. The honey bee has been known to travel between two and three miles to gather pollen. I think that the bushman lias as healthy work as anyone at all. He has not the dust and unwholesome air that the town working man has to breathe into his lungs, but is l always in the fresh air of the bush, with nothing to trouble him except occasionally a few wet days to keep him from work. He has always a good hut at a mill, and plenty to do through the day to keep him from wearying. My favourite Job is contract work. One is his own boss, and, taking it all round, can make more at it. First the under scrub lias to be cut, then the big trees to be felled either with ,the axe or the saw. He fells the bush in the winter as a rule, and burns it about Christmas. At a mill my favourite job is felling and cutting the-trees into logs ready to be cut ino timber. The bushman, as he is called, has to cut the trees into lengths, and then the shoeman has to fetch the rope and shoe into the bush from the hauling engine by means of one or more horses, according to the country that is being worked, and then pull the logs back with the hauler. There is a string from the whistle of the engine into the bush, and when the shoeman is ready to start he pulls the whistle string, and the man at the engine starts the engine. Then, when the engine is wanted to bo stopped he pulls the whistle again. When the logs are brought to the hauler they are rolled on to skids, and then on to the trollies, and taken to the mill, where they are cut into timl>er. They are then taken to the railway, and sent to various parts of the South Island. Well. I think this is all this O.W. Week, and I hope there is a big collection of letters this year, as it is the only way a number of our old friends hear of each other. A speedy recovery, Sha-sta. Where are you, Luceda? I have not heard of you for 12 months. Has someone taken you away ? I shall have to draw to a close now. With best wishes for a long and prosperous life for all my old club mates, not forgetting yourself. Pot, —-Yours trulv. PETE RON. [Your letter arrived too Into to lx> published with the others. Petorkin. I do not like making any exceptions, but as I think it would be a pity to overlook vour interDo” 2 ) commun,cation > 1 am publishing it.— DUNEDIN D.L.r. LITERARY AND DEBATING CLUB. Motto: *' Union is Strength.” C.M.R. REPORT. Dear Comrades,—Tho usual weekly meeting of the club was held it Dot’s office on Tuesday, October 21, with Possum in the chair. A cordial welcome was extended to the visitor for tho evening—Wild Will. As the leader and supporter of the affirmative side of tho debate were absent, it was decided to hold over the papois ou same until November 4. The evening took tho form of a free and easy. Orsen spoke at length on Trafalgar Day, and made some stirring remarks thereon. Silverdalo- recited ‘‘Tho Man From Ironbark” very well. Oriel related some experiences at camp, and Francis then appeared, so Possum vacated the chair. Picnic arrangements were made, and the date, •November 19. fixed for the social in the Warntah Tea Rooms. Full particulars in later issue. A short committee meeting was held, when the syllabus for the ensuing term was drawn up. As the secretary will publish it. I will only mention the more immediate subjects.

November 4, “Is the Present Expenditure on the Defence of New Zealand Justifiable?” November 11, “How I Spent Labour Day.” Please sena in papers on either subject, as your papers have been missed from the debates lately. All are welcome. Many thanks, Ripple, and Shining Sunbeam, for your contributions for open night. —Yours truly, POSSUM, C.M.IL