DOT’S LITTLE FOLK.

Otago Witness, Issue 3168, 2 December 1914, Page 69

DOT’S LITTLE FOLK.

D.L.F. BELGIAN RELIEF FUND.

Dot invites short letters from her young friends throughout the Dominoon on matters of interest to themselves, the result of their observations in the animal world, descriptions of anything they are interested in, of the district in which they live, of their school and home life, holiday trips, <to. The letters are to be written by the little folk themselves, and addressed “Dot, care of Editor Witness.”

Dot’s Little Polk’s Badge with pin, for use as a brooch, obtainable on application to Dot. Price, Is 6d post free, in penny or halfpenny stamps. Auto. Cards are obtainable from Dot, Witness Office, Dunedin. Price, 9d for 25.

It is with great pleasure and the most lively satisfaction I acknowledge the receipt of the following subscriptions and donations from Dot’s Little Folk. P. s d

GIFTS OF CLOTHING. I have also to acknowledge a very handsome donation to the fund from Cludran (Invercargill). This gift comprises a complete outfit for a man, everything being thought of, and everything new. It will be greatly appreciated by some poor Belgian refugee who will find that he has heavy woollen underpants and singlet, socks, dark shirt with turned down collar, a tie, a cap, and a suit of blue serge. Another parcel of clothing for children also came to hand, but as no name was given we do not know whom to thank. NOTICE TO D.L.F. When forwarding coin through the post it is always necessary to register the letter. This not only ensures the absolute saftey of its arrival, but removes temptation out of the way of those employed in handling the letters, and, further, failure to comply with this regulation results in a tax being levied on the receiver of such unregistered letters.

A WIND’S TALE. By I. P. (Written Expressly for Dot’s Little Folk.) Last night a wind that is a great friend of mine was in such a talkative mood that I said to him, “I wish you would tell me a story instead of saying the same thing over and over again.” Then he began to whistle and bluster. I said: “ You’re keeping me awake, anyhow, and you haven’t told me a story forever so long. I’m listening. Fire away!” “ Fire away I” he screamed. “Earth, air, fire, and water! Fire away, indeed! That’s the way you humans speak to the wind 1 Fire away 1” “ Oh, don’t be so huffy! Blow away is more correct, I daresay.” “ I’ll do that fast enough,” he shouted angrily, and : I sang out quickly: “ Oh, don’t do that, old friend! You know very well that I don’t want you to do * that till you’ve told me a story. ’ - “ Why don’t you say what you mean, then?” “ I wish you’d begin instead of grumbling and growling.” “What’g it to be about? You know, I can tell tales of everything upon the surface of land-or sea.” “Toll me, please, about the ocean. I haven’t been near it for years. Those steamy, land-looked seas aren’t to be compared with it. I think I’d like a story about the ocean and a little child.” “ Extremes meet, you think, great strength and groat frailty. They often do. I have so many stories about those two that I don’t know which to choose. Do you know about Arthur and the Atlan——” “ Oh, yes, I know all about the " Coming of Arthur,’ and I know all Hans Andersen’s stories by heart. I want a new story, not a ‘ once-upon-a-time story ’.” “Oh. you are stupid! As if a story that happened to-day wasn’t a ‘ once-upon-a-timo’ story ! I have the great advantage of speaking all the languages of all creatures. I often think that I must begin to teach some of you people the meaning of your own tongue. Sometimes I wonder that so few of you take the trouble to learn mine.” “I know it a little.” I said humblv. To tell you the truth. I was he would begin jabbering away in Greek—a tongue he favours greatly. “Yon used to as‘a child. Do you remember the chats we had in your grandfather’s garden long ago?" and his voice grew very pleasant. We have always been great chums, this Wind and I. He can be a rude fellow when he likes, and sometimes hustles and storms at you, and enjoys tormenting you. You may dress yourself very neatly, nut your hat on very straight and tight, and tie your necktie very securely, and go out feeling all right, when up comes this larrikin and off goe s our hat I Your hair is blown all over your face, and your necktie is lashing your shoulders! He’d blow your gloves off if you’d forgotten to button them. Sometimes he is so gentle: he pats your cheek so camssi.ngly and walks at your side so politely that you can hardly recognise him. Lie is a splendid companion at any time; variable certainly. What pleasing person is not? In whatever mood you find him you may be sure he will not remain in it long: but none of us could do without him, and ho can tell wonderful tales: but you must listen attentively, or he will be offended and fly away, leaving you his half-told tale, which is very provoking. Now, I shall try to repeat to you the story he told me last night. A TALE OF THE OCEAN AND A LITTLE CHILD. “ You are a New Zealander, so, of course, you know a great deal about the Maoris and

their ways. Those who lived on the sea coast were clever fishermen and good swimmers. They taught their little ones to swim very early. As soon as they could toddle their mothers took them to the water and threw them in to struggle for themselves, watching them warily, encouraging and guarding them all the while. Long before they could speak plainly they could swim like young ducks. It was a marvellously pretty sight to see a party of Maori mothers bathing in the surf, with all _ their little ones, naddling, swimming, diving, rollicking, snouting, laughing, revelling in the slowly-plunging, musical cascades of the incoming tide. How the urchins do love this sea-play 1 In the warm, summer weather they are in and out of the water like young seagulls. I have often wondered that you English people never learnt this sport from the Natives.” “We have always considered surf-bathing dangerous,” I murmured, “ All bosh 1 Everything’s dangerous if you won’t bother to learn how to do it. Running up or down stairs is dangerous; climbing a tree is dangerous, and eating your dinner is very dangerous if you won t learn how.” “Yes, go on, please.” “ Well, one bright sunny morning not long ago I was watching a number of young Maori mothers having one of these frolics. Among them I soon remarked a particularly handsome young woman, well built, lissome, with fine, shapely hands, feet, and head, and with gentle, seal-like eyes. She walked the sands like a young queen, her bonny, brown baby on her back, his head stretched high out of her kakahu; his cheeks and lips, like his mother, had the glow of a damask rose. As she flung off her mat and plunged into the waves both wore all smiles and sweet curves and graceful movement. It did me good to have eo much beauty to admire. The day was very calm; I was tired. I had come a long way, and. Besides, had had a great tussle with old father Pac;fio. He had been very angry, and I was not best phased; so we had a regular ‘go in.’ However, ho had the worst of it, and after we’d sulked a bit we made it up, and were as good friends as before; eo, as one of your poets says, ‘ There was no wrinkle on his azure brow. “ The poet doesn’t say exactly that,” I ventured to interpose. “If ho doesn’t, I do. Don’t interrupt if you want to hear the end.” “ I beg pardon,” I quickly replied; and ho went on. _ “ I was only fluttering about lazily watching the fun.’ It would have made some of -your colonial mothers shriek and scream and run away to see Moa.na toss her 18month baby over the crest _ of a green wave, dash through it, seize him, hold him (howling with all his might) high out of the water, glittering like a freshly-finished bttle bronze Neptune, then defty placing him between her shoulders, swim a'vav with him in the shallow's between the softly-arching billows, his chubby hands holding tight her long, black hair, jolly little cries full of mischief and merriment escaping from them both ae they skimmed along. T would join in the fun now' and again. I’d fling the women’s long locks over their headg and across their eyes; I’d flap down and shadow the w'ater, and hide a baby so as to give them a fright; but I never did them any harm. Moana was the best swimmer of them all. She could dive and somersault and vault like any sea creature. She and her little ones w'ere as much at home in the water as on the land. ’" “After they had had a good_ while at romps, Moana thought it was time to go on shore and have a rest, much to the disapproval of his Excellency Kawana Kerei (ask your father, little folks, who this baby was named after, and perhaps you’ll get another story from him), who , kicked and squealed, as his mother was taking the easy method of drying him, by rolling him in the clean, white, warm, dry sands of the dunes that stretched along the shore. Catching up her kakahu she flung it over her, took her tamaiti in her arms, and cuddling him close coiled herself on the shady side of a sandhill, where they wore soon fast asleep. I believe I slept, too. When I wakened I saw the small Kerei slip from his mother’s slack grasp and roll on the beach, with a struggle or two he came right side up and w r as off at a smart trot along the smooth, wet sand, his tiny reflection running along under him as ho ran. The jolly little imp W'as free from his mother’s watchful care for the first time in his brief life; he was bent upon making the most of his liberty. At first, ho was content to flop among the stranded kelp and tangle himself among its slippery tentacles, or to bore holes in the sand with his w.ee toes and chuckle with delight when the water oozed into them as he pulled his toes out rvith a little effort, or to stamp suddenly on the round bladder-like blossoms of the seaweed and hear the mimic explosion as his mother often did to amuse him; still Moana slept soundly. Presently little Kerei ran off to the great ocean, and began paddling joyful'y ‘all on his own.’ Moana slept on. “Now, I hope you know, that jt is one thing.to bath and play pranks in” the sea, when the tide is coming in and a strong swimmer is with you, and quite another matter when the tide is going out and you are alone. Little Kerei was "too young to know this, and as he had no fear of anything or anybody, in he went, jumping and shouting in his merry fashion, right among those stealthy, drawing-back waves ; then. I saw old father Pacific do a thing I never supposed ho would do: he caught that poor mite up and carried him off! Just on that instant Moana awoke and saw her treasure on the breast of a merciless billow. With a yell of anguish she cast off her cloak and swam after him; her cry brought men, women, and children racing out of the kainga; five of the men sprang after her. there was not a moment to lose. At once I flew to their aid; I held down the great rollers, I forced back with all my strength the might of the out-rushing tide; yet the little brown speck kept far ahead "of the swimmers! Now, Moana is gaining upon him, and,- with my help, in a second l or two she had him in her arms; but he had been under water, and her alarm was terrible. She hold the little creature out of the water and slapped hard his flabby little body, keeping go in" all the time with her feet. What might have happened come very near to happening, for both were behind her; Her helpers were many strokes behind her; could they overtake her or must mother and child be carried out beyond all hope of return? Three of her helpers turned back, and with difficulty gained the shore. The two bravo once held on their way. Moana was managing to keep her head and Kerei’s out of the water, but she was growing weary. A glad shout from the watchers cheered the rescuers when at last they swam one on each side of her. I made it possible for them to get back; I beat down the waves before them and quelled the tideflow as much as I could; yet they had a

hard time of it guiding and supporting Moana while she gave all her care to keeping her little one right side up. Meantime the people on the beach were not idle; the women had made huge fires in which they had heated large stones and wrapped them up in blankets, mats, skirts, and such-like warm things, in readiness to receive their half-drowned friends; the men had fetched long ropes, and holding it man behind man, the strongest going first, had formed a long line and gone out as far as it was possible so as to be able to throw the rope to the swimmers as soon as they could reach it. I am glad to tell you that moment came, and not a moment too soon; they had hardly strength for another stroke, when they were thankfully hauled ashore. Greatly they needed all the preparations made for their arrival. It was some time before Moana came to, sobbing and weeping for her lost tamaiti, who was promptly popped into ner arms, crowing and chirrupping as if nothing had happened, and as promptly snacked for his misdoing, though k ssed and caressed in the same instant. “Now, those men ot whom I have been telling you never had the R.H.S.’s medal bestowed upon them, and I think they deserve it. And not one of them even noticed what I had to do with it: nobody remarked ‘tne noroic action of tne wince on that occasion. I’ll give you a piece of aviee. Never do a kind action for thanks; the chances are you won’t get any. Do a kindness for the love of it and never mind about thanks. Men call me ‘rude,’ and ‘boisterous,’ and ‘foul,’ and even ‘treacherous’ 1 Don’t they know Dy this time that I am always blowing somebody good, though they may be calling me ‘an ill wind.’ I am always supporting life, saving life, and restoring life. Why am I not praised ?” “I’ve always been fond of j’ou,” I said apologetically, “and I thank you very much for telling me a story. I've enjoyed it, so I’m going to repeat it to Dot’s Little Folk.” “Oh, arc you? Give them my love, and tell them that if any of them will try their hand at writing a poem upon the good deeds of the West Wind I’ll be very mueft pleased. Good-bye.” “Good-bye,” and I fell fast asleep. LETTERS FROM THE LITTLE FOLK Motto;—We write for the benefit of others, not for ourselves. (gg*- No letter to contain more than 150 words. Dear Dot, —I am sending you a small sum to add to your list for the fund. You are responding very well to Dot’s call, comrades, like true Britishers should. One can hardly imagine a_ civilised nation like the Germans behaving in such a cruel and heartless manner. I hope my small contribution, which I send with much pleasure, reaches you safely. Hullo! Another Shining Sunbeam ! Shako hands, my dear little friend; but I think you had better change your N.D.P., as Dot told me it’s too near a connection with yours truly. I was at a euchre party and dance the other Friday, Dot, and enjoyed both splendidly. There were not many present. I saw Little Venus, and English Lassie was also there. Too bad of that person not to turn up, E. L. What say you? Better luck next time, eh I It’s a ting way to_ Tipperary, think you. Allow me. Dot, with your permission, to arrange a meeting with some D.L.F. on Show Day. If Dot approves of it, 1 suggest to any D.L.F. who wish to meet each other to be at the Band Rotunda at 11.30 a.m. Don’t forget, comrades. Frolic, how about you I meeting at Lewis’s, the drapers, at if or a little after. I shall send you a card before then. The second day, then, comrades, at 11.30 a.m.. Band Rotunda. Don’t fail to come, and don’t bo shy of me, nor yet Frolic. There is someone not hundreds of miles away who is always telling me I ought to change my N.D.P., because it’s far too hard to live un to. He says when he writes he is going to call himself Grumpy Dick; but I think it would be far more suitable for him to call himself Teaser or Hard Case. Well, Dot, I hope I am not taking up too much space; but this will be my last letter in 1914 to the page. My heartiest wishes, Sheila and Willie, if vou happen to see this. Yours to hand, Lower Shotover. Pleased to hoar from you, dear, and vou also, Mosgiel (Froken). Are Lady Barkley and Ethenee offended? I noticed several wanting my auto address: —Addie Morrison, Limehills Post Office.—Yours truly, SHINING SUNBEAM (Limehills). [Thanks, Shining Sunbeam, for your ■welcome contribution. I certainly approve of your meeting other L.F. at ’ the Show. — DOT.] Dear Dot.—We have had two weeks’ holiday from school, as nearly all the children had the whooping cough. I did not have ft. as I have had it before. We have 17 hens, and get six eggs every day. Two of them are very fond of fighting -with one another. The buttercups are out. and they look very pretty. T have been reading a number ot books lately—namely. “Polly, the Postmaster’s Daughter.” “ Cobbler Bob’s Find.” “ Cinderella’s Prince.” and many others. Love to Gilda and Marix, — Yours truly, LADY ENID (Wairioh [I am very glad to hear that you have eseaoo<l having the whooping cough, dear. —DOT.] Dear Dot. —I was glad to see my last letter in print. My sister has been staving with us for a few days. My little nephew was up, too. and I miss him now that ho is away. Christmas will soon be here, and so will the school holidays. I am looking forward to them, for I do not like school. It was a lovely day to-day, and Irish Colleen and I were out for a long walk. Our rat has three little kittens. The school concert was a success, as we hoped it would ho. T , 7as B dance after the concert, but T did not go to it. ATv voungest brother has left the high school now. Another brother is coming homo from Christchurch for his holidays, and Iv wi’l he with n« for Christmas. T still go to music twice a week. T cannot, think of any more news. Dot so I shall close. Love to all the L.F.. —Yours truly. NAD A (Lumsde.nl. [I am sure yon would all be pleased at, the success of your school concert. Nnda. Were you taking a prominent part in it?— DOT.]' Dear Dot. —We are learning a few songs at school for Christmas. In one more month the schools will be closed for the Christmas holidays. Wo have been having bad weather lately. Dot. The other day my brother met with a terrible accident. He was getting the cows, and ho fell on a piece of wood that, was sticking out of the ground. It made an awful cut on his knee, and the doctor put seven stitches in it without any chloroform. Ho will not bo able to go to school until after Christmas. Do

you like ferns, Dot? We can get any amount of ferns here. They are pretty when they have been pressed in a book. I have not much to say in this letter, but the next time I write it will be about gold mining. Hurry up and write, Merry Roe, Star of Hope, Beautiful Mona, and Forget-me-not. Dear Dot, my sister said she would like to write, and I hope she will succeed in doing so. Kind regards to the Little Folk, not forgetting Queen Dot, —Yours truly, TINY (Round Hill). [I am so sorry to hear that your poor brother met with so serious an accident, Tiny. I hope the pain is easier now.— DOT.] Dear Dot, —There are 16 children at our school now. I am sending for some autocards to correspond with some of the H.L.F. I know Morlo, Sponge Lily, and Roseleen the Ninth._ I shall close with a riddle: “Where did the Prince of Wales go to when he became 21?” Best wishes to Pearlie, Kitty, Topsy 11, Moonflower, Morlo. Sponge Lily, Roseleen the Ninth, and Holly Bush, not forgetting yourself, Dot, —Yours truly, E. M. A, O. (Nokomai). [I have sent away your auto-cards, dear, so you will now be able to correspond with the other L.F.—DOT.] Dear Dot,—l read the Little Fofk s letters, and there are some very nice ones. I thought I would like to write to you, too. Wo are having rough weather just now. My sister Bessie and I go to school every day. Wo have about two miles to go. Two other little girls also go with us. We milk for the factory, and we have the milking machines. When we go up to granddad’s they have a pony, and my sister and I ride him all over the place. He sticks us up, and won’t go where wo want him to. They do laugh at us. Well, I think this is all just now. Love to White Violet, Sky Pilot, Willowburn, and yourself,—Yours truly. LYNWILG (Fcrndale). [Welcome to the page, Lynwilg. That pony must have a will of its own.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —I am sending 2s for the Belgian Relief Fund from my sister and me. There are no vegetables growing, as the weather is go dry. We have a master teaching us now, and I like him very much. Is not this war a dreadful thing? I learn music, and can play fairly difficult pieces now. It will soon be Christmas. Does not the time seem to fly? It seems no time since last Christmas. I do not know whether I am going anywhere for my holidays. I went to Hastings last year for two weeks. Dear Dot, this is a very short letter this time, as news ig scarce.—Yours truly, CHALKIESIDE (Elsthorpe). [Thanks for your contribution, dear. I am pleased to hear that you arc making good progress in your musical studies. — DOT.] Dear Dot,—l’ve been at the Garrison Band bazaar and fete of nations all the week. I’m a waitress in the tea kiosk, and we are kept going till midnight every night. The entertainment part is splendid; but. I’m tired of seeing it so often, and my feet get very • tired running about so long. There’s one good thing: wo have a bandsman who washes all the dishes Nind opens the bottles, for which we females are truly thankful. I’m the only girl, the others being elderly women who don’t mind hard work. It’s always the way at bazaars—the workers got the hard jobs, while the young ladies get the stalls and raffling. I go only at nights, but the ladies slave all day and night, too. There’s no news. Dot, but I’m going to write oftener now, seeing my friend is now writing. I mustn’t let her beat me. I wish Simple Simon’s Jongexpeeted letter would turn up. I haven’t seen one from him in the page since his first one. Well, I must close for want o [ material. Love to Prospector, Bella Donna, Niobe, Rununeulus, Lyali. Simple Simon, and yourself,—Yours truly. GUY (Westport). [I am quite sure you will be very tired, dear, as bazaars are rather wearying. However, if it is a big success, you will all feel you have not worked in vain.— DOT.] Dear Dot, —It is about four years since last I wrote to this page, and I am only too glad to begin writing again. The Show will be on next week, and I intend to go and see it, as I have never been to a Summer Show before. I had a pretty little spaniel puppy given to mo last week, but I haven’t named him yet. Could you tell me a nice name for him? I don’t know any D.L.F. about here just yet. Love to all the L.F., not forgetting vourself, —Yours truly, CORNFLOUR (Dunedin). [You have had a long rest, Cornflour. I hope it will not be another four years before you write again. Do you like Carlo for your puppy?—DOT.] Dear Dot, —My brother has started school now. We generally double bank on the bicycle going to school, but it is too hilly coming home, so he gets a ride with some of the school traps. Pnddock and I went to the Timaru Show, but we didn’t see any D.L.F., although I had on my badge. Wo didn’t coma home that night, but stayed in Timaru at my aunt’s place. We went to the Scottish Society’s concert at night, and, my word, it was grand. A concert was held in the school hero a while ago, in aid of Great Britain and Belgium Funds, and they got over £3B. Benbow and his sister were selling flowers, and they got £2 14s. Wc have finished shearing our sheep. We are milking- two cows now, and will have more in soon, but I do not milk. It will soon be Christmas again. I do not know if I am going anywhere for my holidays. Bonnie Scotch Thistle has a little brother just a week old. We have a good many flowers out, especially roses. I know a few who have gone to the war. It is very dry up this way. All the farmers are crying out for rain. With love to Charity, Bonnie Scotch Thistle, Wee Pompoy, and Linnet, not forgetting yourself,—Yours truly, MTTIIER’S WEAN [Sutherlands). Dear Dot, —This afternoon’s rain is the first good rain since we came to Blenheim. The measles are going about, and there are a number of children away from school. Just now T had to stop wrUng, because there was such a big earthquake; it was a double one. I have read a number of books, including “Myra Sherwood’s Cross.” “Fast in the Tec,” “Pilgrim’s Progress.” “Tinbelkin Tom and the Showman,” “The Water Babies,” and a great many more. There was a howling nor’-wester blowing last week, and it blow all the young fruit off the trees. The strawberries and cherries are beginning to get ripe. Dad planted some young fruit trees, and the brown beetles that fly about at night ate all the young leaves off them. Our Sunday school picnic was hold a few weeks ago. Wo left Blenheim at half-past 8, and you may bo sure. Dot. we were all there up to tune.

Wo reached Picton at 10 o’clock. The boat left at a quarter-past 10. We had a lovely run down the sounds, and reached Tore* about half-past 11. We scrambled about the hills till dinner was ready. After dinner some of my friends and I went across the hill to the Pelorus Sounds. One of my mates asked me to have a race down the hill. The road had metal on one side, and, of course, I had to get it mixed up with my feet, and over I went and cut my arm| and legs; but that did not stop mo from racing. When 1 got down to the water 1 bathed my arms and knees in the salt water, and, my word, it did nip; but it healed the outs quickly. I went with ths Bible class girls in a motor launch up the Pelorus Sounds, and we got back to the Queen Charlotte Sounds just in time to catch the boat to go homo. We all landed safely in Blenheim after a very enjoyable day. I must close now. Love to all bha D.L.F., not forgetting yourself.—Your* truly, _ WOODBINE. [You evidently enjoyed your picnic, dear, despite your misfortune. The sounds a ra really lovely.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —We are having our examination at present. We sent some flowers for tho -Patriotic Fund. My mother and father, Willie, and my cousin are going to the W inton Show, which is to be held to-mor-row. The rest of us, except my two little sisters, are not going, because there is no holiday. I am sending- you 6d in stamps for the Belgian Relief Fund. All the children at our school were asked to bring 3d put of their own savings if they could to buy an ambulance waggon and food. When the money was added up the total came to £1 Os 4d, so that was an average of 4th We were also asked to bring any clothes that we had that had plenty of warmth in them. They were to be washed andi sent to Mr Webber. He got a lot of clothes in this way, and sent them to Invercargill. Wo shall only have two more days' holidays till the six weeks’ one. My sister and I arc going to Matai’s place for our Christmas holidays. Princess Helena and Kiss-me-at-the garden-gate used to go to Drummond School. There are a few people go ng up to Drummond to-night to near Mr Rodgers speaking. Love and best wishes to all tha D.L.F. and yourself.—Yours truly, SHAMROCK (Drummond). [Your school is doing well for tiie relief of tho poor Belgians, dear. I hope you will have a good time during your holi-days.-DOT.] Dear Dot, —W r e have been having very changeable weather lately—one day very hot and the next day just the opposite. Nearly every day it is blowing a living gale. W T e are milking 29 cows just now, but there are four or five more to come in yet We have hardly any vegetables, and it is so near Christmas; but there is no growth at all. Isn’t this war awful? It is to be hoped that it will goon end. Tho school concert is to come off to-morrovr night, so I hope we shall get bettor weather than we have had. Our garden is looking dry for the want of rain. We have a few flowers blooming, including cream and pink roses, pinks, flag lilies, yellow marguerites, geraniums, columbines, and pansies. I shall close now. With best wishes for a merry Christmas,—Yours truly, SCARLET FUNGUS (Otakou). [You have a good show of flowers, dear, considering the weather we have had of late.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —May I become one of your many L.F. ? I have read with crowing interest the letters of the L.F. until 'at last I decided to ask if I also might write to you. I am 12 years old, and am in the Fifth Standard along with Bonnie Scotch Thistle and Mithcr’s Wean. We are milking nme cows now. I have a garden on tha sunny side of the house, so my flowers are always healthy-looking. Do you like flowers Dot? I do. I ride a brown pony named Brownie. I like riding very much. We have a number of chicks, all of which are white Leghorns. As this is my first letter, I must not make it a long one. I shall bring it to a close with a riddle for the L.F.: “What is smaller than a mite’s mouth?” Love to Puddook. W'-e Pornpey, Mither’s Wean, Bonnie Scotch Thistle, ana yourself,—Yours truly, ANNIE LAURIE (Sutherlands). [I am very pleased to receive your first letter to the page, Annie Laurie. I lovo flowers, dear. —DOT.] Dear Dot,—l hope to see this letter in tho page, as I have written twice now, and nave not seen either of them in print. I received my D.L.F. badge safely, Dot, and thank you very much for it. I am sending one shilling for the Belgium Relief Fund. Isn’t this war horrible? It will ba tho cause of such a lot of misery and sadness, particularly at Christmas time this year. We are having gome nasty weather lately. I don’t live so very far from Vanetti, Niobe. Hurry up. Strawberry Leaf, and write. I hope that post-eard I sent you did not offend you Well, I shall close now. Best wishes to Strawberry Loaf, White Rabbit. Niobe, Vanetti. Old Station. Queen Mayonese, and all tho other D.L.F. and Queen Dot, —Yours truly, PINK IRIS (Wroy’s Bush). [Many thanks for your contribution, Pink Iris. There will be-very many sad hearts and homes this_ year, dear, and Christinas will bo a sad time for us all. —DOT.] Dear Dot, —It is a good while since I wrote to the page. We are having very stormy weather here just now. We have four cows milking, and are feeding four calves, but we have not started to send tho_ milk to the factory yet. Wo had a Debating Club here all this winter, and it was very good; but it is closed now. Some of the subjects wore: —“ Mock Parliament.” “Is Married Life a Failure?” “ Ta Military Training a Success?” and a few others. We had a visit from The Lamplighter, an 0.W., last week. Our school examination is on the first of next month. My brother’s proficiency examination is on December 16, and he has got to go to Limehills. Tho school picnic ig on December 18. Wo have a new school teacher from Wellington. Mv brother and I both work in the garden. He does the vegetables and I help with the flowers. Tho weather is very cold this season, and everything in the garden is very late. Love to all the D.L.F., not forgetting vourself.—Yours truly, TOTARA (Matail. [I hope you pass your examination, Totara, and that you win some prizes.— DOT.] Dear Dot, —We are having tho best day wo have had for a long time to-day. It has been more like winter than summer now for about two months. We have had nothing but wind, which has dried up all tho rain. The grass is at a standstill, and the crop is turning brown. The farmers are all busy getting ready for turnips; but it isn’t much of a job. as the clods arc ns hard «s stones. The event of the year is

A Jot of people who should bo spending a good time-getting good money spend good money getting a good time, and then get time for getting it.

•Mr Rocke: “So yon want to marry my daughter. Well, young man, what are your prospects?” Young Man: “Excellent—if you don’t spoil them.”

coming off here on December 1. The A. and I’. Society are holding their annual Show, and I intend going. Please, Dot, don’t look at the spelling, as spelling is not one of my strong points. As you can t print big letters, I shall close now. Wishing you all the D.L.F. a merry Christmas and a happy New Year if I am not too early,—Yours truly, JULIUS CAESAR (Milburn). [Thank you very much for your good wishes, Julius Caesar. I hope the weather improves now, as lately it has been shocking.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —I have taken a great interest in your page lately, and would like to become one of vour Little Folk; but as I am 17 years old, I’m afraid I may be too old. The Oaraaru Show is past_ now, so Christmas will soon be with us again. I was not able to go to the Show this year, but hope to have better luck next time. This evening I went for a walk, and was impressed by the beautiful blue of the mountains. It has been fearfully hot all day, but it looks like rain to-night. How bravely the Now Zealand troops respond to the call to fight for their home and Mother Country ! I feel quite proud of them. .Ihe birds are nesting again, and it is lovely to see their little nests with throe or four eggs and sometimes young birds in them. How delightful it is to hoar the thrushes whistling, and the larks singing in the early morning high up in the air! The daisies are making a pretty show among the grass now. and a few early roses are out in flower. I went down to the creek the other day, and noticed that the buttercups are in flower. The buttercup is such a pretty little flower. The shearers are now shearing the sheep, and it is quite mournful to hear their baaing. I am pleased that your social in -aid of the Hu.ntly minors was a success, Lady Nogs. I was not able to go. There is a dear little foal here; but, oh! how clumsy foals are when they are young ! There arc three hens with chickens just out a few days. One has 11, one six, and one eight. What dear little balls of fluff they are when they are young Tho v night beetles and moths are making their appearance, and they are such a nuisance. The light from the lamp attracts them, and they come inside and fly about. I must close now, hoping that you will accept me as one of your L.F. Best love to the L.F. and yourself.—Yours truly, JESSICA (Windsor Downs). [Welcome to the page, Jessica. You will be able to write for three years yet.— DOT.] Dear Dot,—l would have written oftener, but since the war’it seems your page is cut down. I didn’t like to deprive the_ children of it. Don’t you think the war is dreadful, Dot? One of my brothers went with the last Expeditionary Force. I have three ’ brothers, and now one of the others thinks ho will go if more troops are wanted. _ I read up all the papers. I think the reading is very interesting, but terrible in reality. We have lovely flowers out now, and all kinds of roses, I sleep in a room in the second story of our house, and it is a very high house, and yellow and cream roses grow above the window, so that I can put my hand out and pick them. Some fine nights I sleep on the balcony, and the roses climb over the railings and up to the top of the house. Moonlight nights especially are lovely, but I generally get very little sleep, what with counting stars and admiring everything. The weather has been nice and warm lately, and we have had some good warm bathes. I can swim pretty well, but the water is rather cold yet. Tonight there seems to be a slight frost, and it is rather chilly. _ Three of my sisters have boon racing their ponies. Two of the ponies are black, and in great condition, and the other is chestnut. Well, they raced so that T was afraid my youngest sister would come off. Sometimes I held my breath, thinking they would dash into the gate. They did .neither for a wonder. One of my sisters has been breaking her pony into a sledge, and he goes beautifully. Wo have eight pet lambs and six calves. They take some feeding. It is late, so I’ll say goodbye. With love, —Yours truly, QUERY. [I am always glad to hear from my older writers. Query. The roses must bo a beautiful sight when they are in flower.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —It is a year or more since I last write to you. There are a lot of men from about here gone to fight at the front. I am enclosing Is for the Belgian Relief Fund, and hope it will reach you wifely. Wo had our examination at school, and I passed. There are 15 pupils going to our school; eight failed and seven passed. We have a new teacher. She tolls us if we don’t know our poetry on Fridays wo will have to stay in school for an hour and a-haif—that is, until half-past 4. But she has never done so yet. Hurry up and write to rac. Miss Lou andi Farmer’s Boy. You said you would write to the cage as soon as you arrived in Rotorua. Our flowergarden is looking lovely just now. We shall have our school picnic on the 9th of December, for that is the beginning of our school holidays. Are you going to the Dunedin Summer Show, Dot? I am not. Love to Sleeping Beauty, Dianthus, Rod Poppy, Una, Stella, and all the rest of the D.L.F., not forgetting yourself.—Yours truly, PINK VIOLA. [Thanks, dear, for your contribution to the fund. I am glad to hoar that yon passed your examination. —DOT.] Dear Dot, —The flowers are all out now, and the gardens look lovely. There -will not be much fruit this year. It will soon be our Christmas holidays, and I will be glad. I am 11 years old, and I passed into the Fourth Standard. There wore two inspectors. Seven children passed and eight failed. The war has been terrible lately. It is nice to hear when France and her Allies are winning. I don’t think the Germans will over get into Paris. I was at the races, and enjoyed myself very much. I think I have told you all the nows. Love to Shining Sunbeam, Tui, Little Cupid, Inkpot, and all Ihe other L.F., not forgetting yourself.—Yours truly, QUEEN SUNBEAM (Luggate). [Your school had quite a large number of failures this year, Queen Sunbeam. I am glad, though, that you were ono of the successful ones. —DOT.] Dear Dot,—lt is raining here to-day, and there is a very cold and bleak wind blowing to make things worse. I am now at home until after Now Year, and then 1 go back to Dunedin. Well, as I will soon bo an Old Writer now, I will have to write more frequently, as I am 20 on the 10th day of December. Christmas will be very quiet this year on account of the war. Fancy, they want 2000 more men from Otago to join the Expeditionary Force. It is awful to think of the poor Belgians. A good few of tho troopers that left from Tahuna Park had fever when they got to Wellington. I saw by the daily paper that

they buried Trooper Gilchrist (from Gore) at sea. The farmers are starting to shear their sheep, but I don’t suppose the big stations will bo able to send their wool to England to be sold this year on account of the war. I shall bring this to a close. Compliments of tho season to all the L.F., and best wishes to vourself, Dot.—Yours truly, LADY’S BLUSH (Pukepouri). [I must wish you many happy returns of your birthday ( Lady’s Blush. Your time for writing to tile nage is nearly over, but I shall look forward to meeting you at O.W.W.—DOT.] Dear Dot. —It is a long time since I last wrote to the page. I wrote two letters, but I posted them in the fire. The great war is terrible. I hope it will not last long. It must be awful the poor Belgians who are homeless, j&veryone around here and other places is giving money to the Belgian I und, and I sc© that tho L.F. are subscribing very well. Dear Dot, I am going to change my N.D.P., as I do not like the ono I have chosen. 1 hope it is giving you no trouble. I enclose 6d for the Belgian Relief Fund. Love to Witch Hazel, Golden Lily, and all the other D.L.F., not forgetting yourself.—Yours :ruly, BELFAST MAIDEN. Dear Dot, —We are going to have our examination soma time next week. I shall be glad when wet got our holidays; but I do not know where I am going for tho holidays. It was raining nearly all day yesterday. We have had our school concert, and it was a groat success. My aunt and cousins have left Dunedin, and are living in Wellington now. They like Wellington very much. Wo shall not bo aide to see them so often. Won’t the little Belgian chidren bo proud of tho New Zealand ones? Postal note enclosed _ for 2s 6d from New Zealander, my little brother, and myself,— Yours truly, QUEEN ANNIE II (Lumsdcn.) [The splendid response that the children of New Zealand arc making towards helping the poor unfortunate children of Belgium is something wo must all be proud of. dear.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —The Catholic bazaar was held here on the 19th. 20th, and 21et, and it was very successful, the takings for the three nights being £3OO edd /They also he/d a social on tho 23rd, and the proceeds (£11) was donated to tho Belgian Relief Fund. The Gore Show will be hold on the Ist and 2nd, and as we shall bo getting a holiday on the 2nd, I shall be able to go to tho Show. Thyme, you owe me a letter. Hurry up and write again. Is not this war terrible. Dot? The ladies here have been sewing for the Belgian Relief Fund. There was also a concert in aid of it. lam busy getting ready for our Rand of Hope social, to be held here on December 11. I hope it will be a success. I am reading a book called “Tho Little Brown Jug at Kildare,” just_ now. How time flics ! It will soon be Christmas now. I shall soon be getting my holidays from music, so I shall be able to go away for my holidays. Well, Dot, as I am taking up too much of your valuable space. I shall close. Beat love to Beautiful Mona. Thyme, Thyme’s Mato, and Tulip, not forgetting yourself.—Yours truly. MYRINE (Riversdale). [The people of Riversdale must have spent their money very freely at the bazaar, Myrine. for that large amount to bo taken. -DOT.] AUTOS. Mada (Anni-a Cockroft, Lumsdcn) wishes to correspond with School Fairy. Rita, A Lonesome Lily, and any L.F. willing. 5 Pink Iris (E. E. Hyde, care of Mrs J. Hvdo, Wrey’s Bush, via Wairio, Invercargill) wishes to correspond with Pretty Jane, A Southern Lass, Laureate, and White Iris. Rhododendron (George M‘Kay, Luggate) wishes to correspond or exchange post-cards with any Gatlins D.L.F. or any others willing. Dick Turpin (Alexander MTvay. Luggate) wishes to exchange post-cards with any L.F. willing. Queen Sunbeam (Victoria M‘Kay, Luggate) wishes to exchange post-cards with Little Cupid, Inkpot, Tui, Pouting Polly, and any other L.F. willing. Pink Viola (Gwen M‘Kay, Pino Farm, Luggate) wishes to exchange autos or postcards with Cottage Girl. Periwinkle. Pinkie Blue, Bonny Scotch Thistle. A Soldier’s Sweetheart. Simon Henton, Queen of the Rushes, and any L.F. willing. Lady’s Blush (G. Patterson, Pukepouri) wishes to exchange autos with Roslyn, Sparrow Hawk, Topsy 11, Somebody’s Sweetheart, and any other L.F. willing. Prompt replies.

Previously acknowledged £ 7 S. 4 d. 8 Shining Sunbeam and wee sister 0 2 6 Pink Iris (Wrey’s Bush) 0 0 Sunbeam 1 Pink Viola and Queen 0 (Luggate) 0 2 White Maple (Otuxehua) 0 2 6 0 b 0 6 Belfast Maiden (Fairfax) Burlah (Glenairlie) .. 0 0 0 3 0 Queen Anne II and New Zealander (Lumsden) 0 2 6 Total to date £8 3 8