BLUE BONNET.

Otago Witness, Issue 3112, 5 November 1913, Page 69

BLUE BONNET.

(Specially written for the Little hoik.) By Shasta. 1 I—NAN FOR SHORT. Blue Bonnet was not quite like other little girls I had known. She was the oldest of the children from Gum ' Tree Farm, and when I saw her first she was standing on Aunt Julia’s doorstep, butter-basket in hand. Her blue gingham dress was faded, but very clean. Two thick piaits of dark hair peeped from beneath her blue sun-bonnet, and her feet were stoutly shod in stubby copper-toed boots. Her eves were dark brown, with amber lights in them; beautiful eyes, alight with intelligence and wonder A pretty, fair-haired little eister and a sturdy lingered shyly in the background. Mother respects; and, please, here s some butter and cream; and she hopes you will like toeing and, please, we needn’t go straight home, said Blue Bonnet all in a breath. Me had only been in possession of r airfield lor a week, and curiosity was evidently strong in the minds of our little visitors. All three were so clear, rosy-cheeked, and wholesomelocking that Aunt Julia and I loved them at once. , ~ “Come inside, my dears, and rest awhile, said Aunt Julia kindly; and presently all three, looking very stiff and solemn and uncomfortable, were seated in the big dining room. Tottie, the pretty little girl in the white muslin pinafore, made a speedy conquest of Aunt Julia. Bunnie, as became a boy, appeared slightly loud and superior, although he accepted cake with promptitude and decision, and was careful of the crumbs. The contrast between the sisters was very noticeable, and I w T as pondering over it absent-mindedly while I offered the older sister a slice of cake. “If you please, I’d rather have bread and honey,” said she. “I—oh —we haven’t any honey, said Aunt Julia hastily. Won’t a piece of gingerbread do just as well?” ~ , “No, thank you, said Blue Bonnet thoughtfully. You see, 1 wanted to cat bread and honey in the parlour, like the queen did. Wo haven’t got ,a parlour at our house, and our hive of bees died. Bunnie made a cart with wheels out of the hive. Bunnie is real clever at making things.” “Oh, Nan, you shouldn’t speak less you are spoken to; you know you shouldn’t,” protested Tottie. s’iv;.vt ill tears. 'I never remember to do what I’m told, though I do try awful hard. Mother says she doesn’t know what will become of me at all, at all. Will Igo home, now I’ve been naughty?” m . The reasonable manner in which Blue Bonnet expected and accepted blame was one of the most surprising things about her. “No, you need not go horqe just yet. little girl,” said Aunt Julia smiling. “'What is your name?” “Rosannah Mary Elizabeth Brown —Nan for short.” “You quaint child,” said Aunt Julia a little breathlessly. “Does quaint mean ■'very naughty?” “No—only queer.* “Oh,” said Blue Bonnet in n tone of great relief. “I’m often called queer; but there’s something inside of me wants to know everything.” “I’m afraid that something inside of you that wants to . know everything is going to hurt you some day, little Nan for short.” "I don’t mind being hurt .long as I find cut things.” replied Nan with spirit. “Nan’s always getting hurt trying to find out things.” said Bunnie. anparentlv feeling that Na.n had monopolised attention long enough. “Would you like to see my peacocks,” asked Aunt Julia. “Oh, yes, said the children. Aunt Julia went out with Tottie and Bunnie; Nan and I followed. “Do you think I’m very wicked?” asked Nan seriously ‘ “Of cour=e not,” said I. taking the wistful little face between my hands and kissing it imnulsivcly. We found the oldest peacock—a very fine bird —sunning himsedf on the stone wall, with his glorious tail outspread. "Isn’t he a beauty?” said Aunt Julia, for she had not had him long, and was rather proud of the beautiful bird.

“Jcs,” paid Tot and Bunnie as they gazed in round-eyed admiration. “I think it’s perfectly dreadful to have a great tail like that; he can't have iir.v fun. If I \vas him I’d cut it off. so I would," said Blue Bonnet disdainfully. ‘‘lt must be horrid to be dressed up in your Sunday clothes all the time.” Gum Tree Farm joined Fairfield, and in the few weeks I spent with* Aunt Julia I came to know the Brown family well, and to love that odd little person Nan for short. I found that Hosannah’s disdain for fine feathers perplexed her mother greatly until Nan promised to do as her mother wished on special occasions, if she might have clothes that would not snoi! to wear cn plav days. Tottie’s irreproachable neatness and prettiness helped to atone for Nan’s indifference; but Mr-3 Brown often regarded Hosannah with the puzzled wonder a motherhen bestows upon the ducklings she has hatched. Nan’s insatiable desire for knowledge led her info all manner of difficulties. hut°shc met her many defeats with the greatest good nature. Tlie very first afternoon cn which vc visited Mrs Brown. Bur.nie and Tottic looking somewhat frightened, came in and announced that Nan was lost. “We ware all playing houses together at the back of the barn, and wo missed Nan, and we called her and looked everywhere, but we rnn’t. find her.” explained Bunnie. who considered himself responsible for his sister’s welfare, and was very much disturbed if anything untoward happened them.

W© all joined in a search for the truant, and were becoming alarmed, when, on passing through the stable yard for the third time, Bunnie heard strange sounds issuing from a great box in the chaffhouse. “She’s in the oat-bin!” shouted Bunnie, and, sure enough, when Bunnie and I raised the heavy lid there was Nan comfortably reclining on the oats. _ T „„ “Whatever are you doing there, JSanr asked Bunnie sternly. , , , . "I found a little white hen locked in the box, and I wondered what it -would be like in the oat-box, so I got in to eee, a.nd alter the lid got closed I couldn’t open it again, and I called, and nobody heard ine. “Serve you right, too,” said Bunnie with brotherly severity; "and you will . know better than to do such a thing ag ain ; “But I found out what its like in the oat-box,” said Nan complacently. It s dark and quiet, and the oats smell so nice “But you don’t know what the little hen felt like, silly,” retorted Bunnie, wish all a boy’s ruthless common sense. Blue Bonnet, however, was perfectly satisfied with the result of her experiment, though she promised not to repeat it. Ihe xest of the afternoon was spent in making the acquaintance of the children’s pets, though, indeed, they considered all the farm animals as their pets. There was Gortie, a beautifull-marked and very dignified tortoiseshell cat, who followed Tottie when she went with the others for the cows, and had to be carried home. There was B.ackie and her three wild kittens, who glared and spat at us from a dark corner of the barn. There was Tommie, the cart-horse, who ate cake out of our hands; and the foals, who kicked up their heels and kept at a safe distance. There wore Rosie and Pansy and Nancy, the three spotted cows that were so quiet they would stand to be stroked and admired, as though conscious of their sleek perfection. There was Billy, Nan’s pet Jamb and devoted follower; Dick, Darkie, and Prince, the plough-horses, we could see working in the next paddock. Bowoy, the pup, was chained because he would chase the hens and the calves. We admired Spottie and Biddie, the fussy hens and their chickens, though Spottie made a dreadful fuss, and threatened to bit© us if we so much as touched one of her precious chicks, and we were not nearly weary of the children and the wonderful creatures at Gum Tree Farm, when it became so late we had to leave, with many promi-es to come again soon. Mrs Brown also promised to allow the children to visit Fairfield frequently. (To he continued.)