DOT’S LITTLE FOLK.

Otago Witness, Issue 3804, 8 February 1927, Page 77

DOT’S LITTLE FOLK.

Dot invite* ihort letter* from her young friend* throughout th* Dominion on matter* ef interest to themselves, th* result a< their observation* tn t th* animal world, d«r scription* ef anything they ar* interested in, •< th* district to which they live, «f their school and home life, holiday trips, &*. Th* letters ar* to b* written by th* little folk themselves, and addressed "Dot, ear* ol Editor Witne**.’’

Dot’* little Folk’s Badge with pin, Jor nee ss t brooch, obtainable on application to Dot. Price, Sa Cd to stamps er postal notes. Auto. Cards are obtainable from Dot, Witness Office, Dunedin. Price, Sd lor Ji

WHITE WINGS.

Py Katherine Mercer. (Illustrated by Dumble.) (Copyright. —Fob the Witness.) “There can’t be another place as good as this.” The gulls repeated’ that all the year round. They came sweeping down, scores clustered together, in combinations that changed too quickly and easily for even a watchful eye to keep count, and along the wide brown mud flats that edged both sides of the river at low tide, they broke into little groups—two and threes, solitary birds —all busily gathering food. The river was always well supplied by the meat-canning factory a few miles higher up. Summer or winter mattered very little to the gulls. Nesting-time took them to the curve of low white cliffs among the crevices of which countless generations had nested. Sometimes a few stray birds would go for short exploring flights, but from these they always came back more than satisfied.

“There’s nowhere else as good,” they would repeat. “Nowhere,” echoed the others who had so often said it themselves. “If there couhl be, White Wings would show us. But he never thinks of leaving this, so that proves it is the best possible,” some would add. . “The best there can be, of course,” the rest would scream. They had repeated it all so often that White Wings had somehow come to feel the credit of those beautiful mud-flats. If he had not exactly made them himself, at least he had improved them and kept them so delightful. He had been leader for longer than they could remember, counting by nesting seasons, but there had been old gulls among them who had told of the flats as being not nearly so well stocked with food before White Wings grew old and strong enough to be accepted as leader. (The factory had not been built then, either. It had been begun in the season when he was hatched.)

“There were not nearly so many of us in those days,” they had often said, standing upright at the edge of the water, thinking things over. “Ah, things are all better now that we have White Wings for our leader.” the younger ones would answer. They stood up solemnly to say it, too, if they were down by the river. If they were wheeling overhead they would all scream out _together, making noise enough to persuade even a stray hawk that he was not wanted by the river mouth. “The whole of the place is ours,” the gulls-would scream contentedly to each other as they watched him turn and fly back over the sea. “If he dared attack us White Wings would drive him off too sore to fly.” “So he would. We are lucky to have such a splendid leader.” They all said that. White Wings felt so, too. ° A flight of wild ducks might pass overhead sometimes, bound for the upper reaches of the river. Pukeko and wekas lived along there in plenty, and tuis m the bush that still covered the higher banks. But the river-mouth belonged to the gulls. A stray pigeon might drop down sometimes. Not a bush bird, this, but one out on a short journey from • some loft in the township. Of course, there were sparrows among the trees by

the factory—there are sparrows everywhere. Yellow-hammers and wax-eyes came there plentifully, too, at the end of a mild winter. But small birds such as these were not worth the gulls’ notice. “Let them pick up what they can find, or what we leave. Or they can see what they can get about the railway station. It is not worth our while to go there,” they would say. “If they get to be a nuisance, White Wings will send them away with a flap of a wing.” The sparrows would listen, sometimes with their little brown heads cocked on one side, and little eyes shining as if they were laughing over a joke. The gulls did not mind. Jokes and sparrows were alike to them, all happy and contented under their magnificent leader. He felt that they ought to be. He was quite contented. Sometimes to be the leader of a great flock of birds means continual hard work, searching and fighting for food and good nesting-places, and sallying out in frequent gales. “None of that kind of thing where 1 am leader,” White Wings thought. He was quite right. Even the spring gales did not cut very sharply into the sheltered little bay, and few storms were heavy enough to drive gulls far inland. He would come back easily from such a little journey with his followers screaming his praises. “There simply can’t be another bird

like White Wings! Who can fly higher, or faster, or dive as swiftly and surely? Who else is as big or as handsome? Who can be anything like White Wings?” He could have told them himself that they were quite right. No other bird could equal him. While on a short flight with him one evening, his mate had a fancy to turn up a little green valley where they had never been before. “How very quiet it all looks,” she said carelessly. “There isn’t a bird in sight except those fat white ducks waddlinng over the hillside fgP—,fi,i waddling over the hillslope down there ” “Not a wing,” he agreed. “I suppose they get plenty to eat. They’re looking fat enough. But how dull it must be, shuffling through the grass like that instead of soaring up here like, we do.” “They’ll never try. They haven’t got a White Wings for leader,” she answered “Eh?” He had not caught what she said. He was gazing at an oval whiteish thing one duck, rather separate from the others, had paused to look at for a moment. “Now, what is that?” he said “Surely it is too big for an egg. Yet it looks like one.” “Nothing like ours will be,” his mate cried gaily. “It may be some kind of egg, of course, but it can’t be that old thing’s, or she wouldn’t leave it alone like that.” “Of course not,” he agreed. “But let’s see what it is.” As a matter of fact, it was the duck’s. She had missed being shut up the night before and ■ had laid outside the duck.yard. Once she had laid her egg she had done with it. So when she saw the two gulls hovering overhead strike down to it, she was rather surprised, but waddled on without bothering.

They stuck their beaks into it together. “Tastes very good!” White Wings exclaimed. “Ye-es.” His mate eyed him rather doubtfully. If he took a fancy to tasting eggs, what about hers? It might be better not to encourage him in this. “Yes; but not as satisfying as fish, do you think ? Talking of fish, let’s get back and cateh some for supper.” So back they wheeled, and once well on their way home, she hoped he would forget the taste of that ugly egg. A clumsy affair it had been, too—a very stupid shape, and too big. Next day they were busy doing up their nest, though it was so nearly as it had been left after last season that it needed little attention. When his mate began sitting, White Wings felt rather lonely, and one day when he had taken his turn, he had a fancy to look at the little green valley Almost as soon as he got there he saw the fat white duck come waddling along. She looked up and saw him hovering overhead. “Only one this time,” she thought. “Well, it doesn’t matter to me. Teatime—that’s what matters.” But though she hurried she was too late to. get much supper. “A few more grains,” she quacked sorrowfully to an earlier friend. “Only a few more grains, and I’d go back to my nest quite satisfied. I must have

been too long looking at that gull so low down—quite near, it was. But what really made me late was feeling I could not pull myself off my eggs.” “I know,” her friend agreed. “My nest is closer, or I’d be late, too. But, my dear, you’re sure it wasn’t a hawk? It makes me quite nervous to think of these wild creatures near the nests, even now.”

“Oh, a gull—quite sure. It was low enough to see clearly if its wings had been half the size. I’ll be getting back, though. Some other bird might be looking for the nest.” She half turned to look sideways, and quacked sharply. “I know. I heard a weka down in the swamp last night.” They waddled off, one behind the other, till the front one turned toward her nest, leaving the other with the briefest quack of farewell. “Oh, yes; see you to-morrow as usual,” she returned impatiently, wishing she could reach her nest as quickly. Somebody else had found it, though she did not guess. Somebody else had watched her come out from the shelter of the hedge, noted her shabby feathers, her fussy, important air. “Of course she’s sitting. All these hen birds are alike —can’t think of anything but nests. Now, where—ah!” In a moment he had swooped down to the glimpse of light-coloured eggs which only his trained eye could have seen, the duck having so carefully scratched a covering over them before she left. “A good egg,” he said generously as he finished one. “Perhaps another—no, she’s coming back.” He could not be sure about the sharp quacks away up on the hill-slope, but a.gull is too well trained to wait for possible detection. Even his seasons of safety and plenty had not made White Wings careless enough for that.

The duck took no notice of him far up in the sky, turning towards his beautiful mud-flats. She did not count her eggs, not so much from carelessness as because she did not know how to count, but just settled down contentedly on those that were left.

“What beautiful eggs they are!” she thought, never dreaming of how they had been praised before her return. For two more evenings the same thing happened. White Wings came straight for the nest, now sure of his treat, though he wished there were a few more eggs waiting for him. The duck, placid as she was, began to feel her nest was not so well filled. She said as much to her friend at suppertime. "“My dear, if I were you, I’d hurry back at once,” was all the advice the other could give. “I think I will,” she answered thoughtfully, and was off. This time White Wings was too sure. He heard no sound till she was almost upon him. Then he tried to rise, but too late. Too late for even his strong wings to lift him. In vain he struggled. The clumsy, talkative fat duck had changed into a furious defender of her sacred nest, hanging on to the invader in grim silence with an unexpected strength he felt himself unable to overcome. He screamed again and again —angrily, helplessly. Her one fierce spring had given her the advantage of a position where his great wings had no chance of reaching her, however savagely they threshed. Then he felt his tail feathers begin to give. A great plunge forward and he was free, leaving behind him a victorious duck hissing and spluttering as she spat out a bill-ful of his feathers.

Never again would he try to rob her nest. He wondered, as he drove in clumsy circles, whether he would ever again be able to balance enough to fly securely. His tail would grow, of course, but how long would it take? He must take all possible advantage of the wind to get back to relieve his mate. If only he could stay hidden in the nesting crevice till their eggs hatched out, safe from the eyes of the flock that had admired him so long! " But that could not be. All he could hope for was to get home, take his turn on the nest during the night, and with the sunrise hear his old followers screaming discordantly, repeating to one another how their great leader, the matchless White Wings, had been beaten by a common farmyard duck. Yet he could not escape it. He.could not leave his mate to finish hatching out . their eggs all alone.

Rising and sinking unevenly, balancing fond steering with clumsy uncertainty, sVhite Wings made his slow way home Jo his mate. LETTER TO THE LiTTLE FOLK. Dear Little Folk, — Your holidays are nearly over now, and you ar» all buying new school books and making ready for a year of hard work. Some of you have -passed proficiency and left school, and some of you have left the secondary school and consider yourselves quite “grown up.” 2b those of you who have failed and have to stay another year in the same class, I say, “Do not be downhearted, but work well this year, and make up for last year.” To those who are going to high schools I say, “You will find- the new subjects hard, at first, but persevere, and you will soon Isarn how to master them.” To those of you who have left school I wish all good luck. Remember you are just beginning in the big school of life, so that you are “not finished with school” after all. We are always learning something, even when we are old. Best wishes to you all for this coming year.— Your big friend, DOT.

LETTERS FROM THE LITTLE FOLK. Kctto.—W« writ* for the benefit of otbere, twrt lor oortelrea. Dear Dot, —Can you swim? I can swim feeven lengths. Just now I go in swimming /every day. My sister is going away homo to-morrow. I s suppose “Chums in Summer Sports’’ is nearly finished. It is a very interesting little story. Do you like the weather down there? Some people say it is very cold and wet. There are many people from Dunedin here, and they like oiir town. Love to all and your own dear self.—Yours truly, THE LITTLE BUTTERFLY (Alexandra). [Yes, I can swim, Little Butterfly. No one Could complain of our weather here at present.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —I received quite a number of Christmas presents, a wristlet watch being one. My eldest sister received a beautiful fox-skin fur. Wasn’t she lucky? My cousin has a pup, so could you please give me a name for it? My brother caught three white rabbits, and he gave my two sisters and me one each. We call them Pompey, Winkle, and Snowy. Mine is Pompey. Do you not think those are good names? I am staying at my uncle’s fruit farm, and it is lovely, as the peaches are all ripe, and I am allowed to eat as many as I am able. I help, pick the fruit, and sometimes pack them. I am also allowed to ride the horses. My cousin and I rede two miles to a moonlight picnic, and did not come home until £ a.m. We had a lovely time. —Yours truly, PETER THE FERRET (Cromwell).' [Those are good names, Peter the Ferret Call tb.e puppy Punch. Your sister was lucky to receive such a nice present.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —I think lam going to a picnic , at Rice's Bush on Friday, and I hope to , have a good time. Sweet Blue Violet is •working about a-quarter of a mile from home, and we see her often. We have a new cow and calf now, and we call the cow Daisy and the calf Quecnie. Our two cats have kittens, one has two kittens and the other has three. My one is black and ■white, and will you please give me a name for it ? Pink Honeysuckle has crutches now, bo she will soon be home. Japanese Rose and I were at Brydone for three days last week; my sister works there. I receive nice letters from my correspondents. I will fell you their noms de plume: Juliet, Gilpin's Wife. Seabird, Flipp’s Bride, A Bunch of darkia, and Red Salviar I have not had a letter from Smiling for a long time. Love to all the Little Folk and your own dear Belf.—Yours truly, LA SPARKLING’DEW DROP (Southland). [Call your kitten Porter, Sparkling Dew Drop. Sweet Blue Violet is quite near to you. I am pleased Pink Honeysuckle will Soon be home.—DOT.] Dear. Dot, —I am out working again about a-qualer of a mile from home, and I like it very much. Pink Honeysuckle is on crutches, but she cannot walk very well. We are all looking forward for her to be home again. Mv sister was up seeing her on Monday, and Pink Honeysuckle does look forward to seeing us. Either is working in the Sugar of Milk worfe again. I am on my own thia afternoon, and it is very lonely. I enjoyed myself at Christmas time very much. I went to the sports at Edendale. The wind was blowing and the sun was Bhining at the same time. I intended going to Hearty Lassie’s place for a holiday about, three weeks ago, but I took this place, not 'expecting to be here so long. Dad said I • could go after I finish here. The gentleman for whom I work tried to show me how to put the machines on the cows, but I can t put them on yet. Love to all and your I pwn dear self. —Yours truly, SWEET BLUE VIOLET (Southland). '{l am sure Pink Honeysuckle looks fori ward to seeing you all, Sweet Blue Violet. You will be ready for your holiday.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —We were up hay-making yesterday, and it was very hard forking the hay ■in the wind. All the rivers and creeks are Very high. My sister and I were sleeping in ‘a tent a wee while ago, and one night it started to rain hard. The rain came through the tent and wet all our blankets and everything. I like sleeping in a tent, but not when the rain comes through. It is a very hot day to-day, and I think I will go -in for a bathe this afternoon. Love to all and your own dear self.—Yours truly, PARADISE BIRD (Lake Wakatipu). [Tents are not very good when it rains heavily, Paradise Bird. Where do vou bathe?—DOT.] Dear Dot, —We started school on February 1, and I was glad. We have a little Persian kitten, and I like it very much. The flowers are coming out in our garden. We lead jn our hay on Friday, and we had 10 men liielping us. We have two big stacks. My brother went out fishing and caught four fish. I have sent away for my school books, and I hope I will soon receive them. I went to Black Gully the Monday after Christmas. I did not go for any holiday this year, but I hope to go next year. Best wishes to all and your own dear self.—Yours 'truly, BELLBIRDLING (Kelso). [ls he' a big Persian kitten, Bellbirdling? Does your brother often have good catches? ' Where does he fish ?—DOT.] i. E°t,—l rang up my mate on the telephone to-night, and we had quite a long talk together. Our holidays are nearly over. We have only another week, and then we have to go back to school. I won’t be sorry, as I am fired of staying at home. My father is busy these days extracting his honey. He has another man helping him. Do vou like .honey? I do, but I don’t like the bees, although I have only had one sting so far. .My sister is in bed crying with earache

Our vegetable garden has just come to light. Somehow is has been very’ late this year, but as for our flower garden it is looking beautiful. Our roses are nearly all past. There are only a few more buds to bloom. My sister is writing to you to-night, but I think she is going to stop now. It won’t be long before the Duke and Duchess of lork will be in New Zealand. I hope to be able to go and see them. There is to be a monster picnic at Black Gully this month, and I hope to be going. Mellow Moon has not written for a long time. Kindest regards to all and your own dear self.—Yours truly. GOLDEN LEAFLET (Kelso).' , [I am sorry for the little girl with earache, Golden Lenflet; I like honey and brown bread. —DOT.] Dear Dot, —I hope you will publish this little note, although I am an Old Writer, on behalf of Black Watch and myself to convey to several of my friends through the page and many Old Writers our deepest sympathy in their recent sad bereavements. It will serve to show we sympathise with all those who have been so unfortunate.— Yours truly, 'CAPTAIN JACKSON BARRY’S DAUGHTER (Otokia). [I have published your letter, Captain Jackson Barry's Daughter. We all sympathise with our friends in their sorrow.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —My cousin, Rose the Red, is up in Christchurch on her holiday. She went on Monday, and is coming back on Friday. She was very excited on going away, as it is the first time she has been there. We had a picnic at the river this afternoon, and it was lovely. We all had a swim except two. My youngest brother, who is three and a-half years old, was into the water before any of the others, and was wet all over. I have two cousins staying here, and they are hard cases. Are the plums and fruit ripe down in Dunedin? I am reading a book called “Nicholas Nickleby.’’ Have you read it? We are havifig a lovely time lately. My cousin killed two roosters to-day, and mum is out plucking them. My brother is away to-night gathering plums. Dad went to Dunedin on Tuesday. Aren’t the “Chums” funny at times? Love to all and your dear self.—Yours trulv, „ ' QUEEN MAB’S MAID (Temuka). [Yes, the “Chums” are very funny, Queen Mab’s Maid. I hope Rose the Red is enjoying herself. The gooseberries arc ripe down here.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —May I join your happy band of Little Folk? I am seven years of age, and I am in Standard I at ’ school. At present I am staying with my cousins in the country, and like it very much. I have three fish at home. I received several presents for Christmas besides a toy bus, which runs all over the place when 1 wind it up. I was at a picnic in Waimate, and came third in a sack race, and second in a running race. Our side won the tug-of-war. —Yours trulv, BLUEST BIRD (Timaru). [Welcome, Bluest Bird. Your name was taken. Are they goldfish you have? Where do you keep them ? —DOT.] Dear Dot, —Christmas has come and gone. Wc are having six weeks • for our school holidays. Some nights my cousin and I go setting traps, but we catch no rabbits, though we caught a great big white ferret one night. We were at a picnic last week, and I came third in a race. I am going to spend a few days in Timaru next week before I start school again. We finished our shearing over a week ago. We have seven young ducks, but I do not see much of them, as they always run about in the paddocks. Love to all the Little Folk and yourself.—Yours truly, GOLD TOOTH? (Hakataramea). [Do the little ducks dabble in every puddle, Gold Tooth? Have you not caught even one rabbit ? Did you kill the ferret ? — DOT.] Dear DoJ, —At present my brother and I are staying for a holiday, but intend going home any day now. We have been having ideal weather here lately until to-day, as it is now raining in a stead}- downpour. At last Christmas has come and gone, so we have at last started into a new year. To tell the truth, I have not been in for a bathe this summer, as I seem that I cannot be bothered, but all the same I think swimming fine sport. I have left school over a year now, and stay at home, although I spent all last winter up in Christchurch and thought it lovely, I should have loved to have stayed longer, only one can not desert home altogether else one would be thinking that there was no such place. My three cousins and brother go setting traps every night, but needless to say they always catch the wrong enemy. I think that the country is a nice change for a holiday, but all the same I should much rather live m town, as I always like a place with a bit of life. At home I have started some fancywork, and think that it is nice to do in my spare time, as I always think that if one does fancywork, one sees something for one’s time. I have just been reading the letters in tho Witness, and have seen one from Blue Hyacinth. I know her very well, and always enjoy reading her letters. Love to all and your own dear self. —Yours truly, ROSES SWEET (Timaru). [Do not neglect swimming too much, Roses Sweet, in case you fall overboard one day. Fancy work is a useful work for spare time. — DOT.] Dear Dot, —I enjoyed the Old Writers’ Week. I have two cousins staying here for their holidays, and I am going home to their place. I have two cousins writing to your page, and their names are Blue Hyacinth and Day Dreamer. I am sorry that school starts in two weeks’. I received a watch for Christmas. I won a prize at school. The name of it is “The Great Book for Boys.”— Yours truly, RATCATCHER (Hakataramea). [Notice that “names” require “are” not "is,” Ratcatcher. Can you tell the time on your watch?—DOT.] Dear Dot, —Christmas has come and gons. I received a number of presents in my stocking, marbles, school bag, and a great many other things. I went to a picnic, and I won the sack race, and it was great fun. The picnic was held at Waimate, 28 miles from our place. It was in the park, and there wore little fish—gold and white ones. They were in a fountain. We have to go back to school in two wesks. I have 178 cigarette cards. I received a nice prize at school called “The Great Book for Tinies.” Love to all.—Yours truly, SCRUBBY GULLY (Hakataramea). [The school bag will be useful to you. Scrubby Gully. Ara you going to lose all your marbles or win Borne more?—DOT.] Dear Dot, —I suppose the weather in Otago has been something like the weather in Canterbury, very hot. The swimming baths have been crowded, one cannot have a decent swim, because there are eo many people in. At present I have an old school friend staying with me. She was quite white when she came here, but now she is brown. I, myself, am nearly black with sunburn. I received quite a number of Christmas presents this year, and the result was I

had to write a number of letters. I did not have a chance to read the Old Writers’ letters. I was away for a fortnight, and my sister did not keep them for me. I was sorry, because I enjoy reading them. They are so interesting. I suppose some of them were from some of the first Dot’s Little Folk. Best love to all the Little Folk and yourself.—Yours truly, A CANTERBURY LASS (Leeston), [I am sorry you did not see the Old Writers’ letters, Canterbury Lass. You will be a long time before you recover from your sunburn.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —May I join your happy band o? Little Folk? I am eight years of age and in Standard 111. I have been away tc Macandrew’s Bay for my holidays, and enjoyed them very much. We had good weather so we can’t complain now if i< turns out bad. Love to all and your owe dear self.—Yours trulv, THE MOTOR MECHANIC (Dunedin). [Nobody can complain of Dunedin weatherjust now. You may join, Motor Mechanic. A-e vou going to be a motor mechanic?— .DOT.] Dear Dot, —My brother was up the Rees on Tuesday, and up Chinamon’s Flat yesterday. We stait school on Tuesday. I have cue of my cousins staying with me. I will send some snaps.—Your truly DELCO’S SISTER (Paradise). [I should like some snapshots, thank you, Delco’s Sister. Are you and the cousin enjoying yourselves?—DOT.] Dear Dot, —Our school starts within one week’s time. I do not think I will be very pleased. I shall be in Standard VI when we go back to school. At Christmas time I received a tea set, balloon, table tennis, stocking, and a handkerchief. I was very pleased with them. I went to a pantomime on Thursday, and it was lovely. Best love to all the Little Folk and your own dear self.—Yours truly, PUSS PUSSY (Marlborough). [School will not be so bad when once vou have begun. Puss Pussy. Which pantoniine did you see? —DOT.] Dear Dot, —It is a long time since I wrote to you. I have enjoyed my holidays very much. I used to go up and help dad with the work on the farm. Love to all and your own dear self.—Yours trulv, PLAYBOX (Lake Wakatipu). 51 am pleased you enjoyed vour holidays, Playbox. I am sure your dad would be glad of your help.—DOT.] Dear Dot, We are staying at a hoardingliouso for our and ws a,re g'oinsf home this coming Sunday, as the schoof wifi be open on Monday. My father always takes us to the rocks or to the point. I asked him if he would take us to Colac Bay to-day. He said that he would take us this afternoon. We wsrd to the pictures last Saturday night, and they were verygood The, name of it was .“The Last Man on Earth.” There was a good orchestra. There were a piano and a violin and a cornet. We are going to the pictures on Saturday night, as there is going to be a good picture on. The name of it is “Reckless Romance." We can go over to the library any day we want to and see the Gore paper when it is there. We are having - our school excursion to Queenstown this coming Wednesday. We are not going to it. We can have a good view from the verandah of thia boarding house. You asked me if I had been at Stewart Island. I was at Stewart Island a good few years ago. It is a good place to stay for one's holidays.—Yours truly, JACKO THE MONKEY (Gore). [Riverton is an excellent holiday place, Jacko the Monkey. Father was kind to take you to Colac Bay.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —The beach is the place just now. I love the sea, but we don’t live near it, so we can’t indulge in surf bathing. We have a creek, but I have no sister, and I don’t like going in on my own. It is too lonely. I have been over to our neighbour’s court three times this week, and had some good games, and watched them too,as they are good over there. School starts again, so they have to go away on Mondav, so I’m sorry, _ as it was nearer than the other court. Yesterday we took some snaps of some of us playing and other different ones. I hope they are nice, as I haven’t many good ones of myself, and it will also remind me of that holiday. I was expecting one of my correspondents down to see me for this week end, but she was going home on the 27th so she was unable to fulfil my invitation, and I was quite disanpointed, but I hope she will come some other time. All the holiday makers are settled down to work except the teachers. The children won’t take kindly to work after such a long holiday, but they soon settle down. We had a big crop of cherries this year, bu) the birds had them all, as the trees are so high. After they had finished them they cleaned up the gooseberries and currants. It is all right to have the bush, but the birds are pests. We haven’t had any picnics this year, but we may have one yet. I received some snaps of correspondents last week, and they look nice. Love to all and vour own self.— Yours truly, BETTY JO (Otago). [You need a bathing partner when you swim, Betty Jo. I hope the photographs turn out well.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —School has started once again, and I am sorry, because I enjoyed my holiday. I went to the country for my holiday, and it is quite different from town life. You have quite a number of Little Folk. I am in Standard V at school. I received a prize last year for classwork, and the name of it is “Crystal’s Victory,” by Cecil Adair. Love to all and yourself.—Yours truly, RED SALVIA (Dunedin). [Of course country air is much more fresh than town air, Red Salvia. Cecil Adair writes good stories for you to read.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —A few Saturdays ago the Salvation Army of Oamaru, Herbert, Waianakarua, and Moeraki held their annual picnic at Glencoe. Herbert. The day began perfect, the sun was shining, and ” the river and shade were delightfully cool after the hot, dusty roads. Four buses arrived full, as well as numbers of cars and about 100 walkers. - In the afternoon two other girls and I walked down the river to Cosy Dell for a swim. We arrived back in time for afternoon tea. Unfortunately it began to rain, so we had to go home disappointed at losing the remainder of our day. To-day we have three men wiring the house for the electric light. The two youngest, who are both quite boys (about 18 to 20 years of age), are great smokers. One has given me fotir cigarette cards each day. They are quite a rowdy pair, and keep us amused with snatches of popular songs. When one of them bumped his head he invariably started, “Dear mother,” followed by some sally, such as "I’m sending you five pounds, three pounds of sugar, and two pounds of tea,” or “I’ve come home to die, and you haven’t the bed ready.” They had a very nice boss. He worked all the time himself, but he gave the boys a good time, he didn’t seem to care how little they did, and he teased them the whole' time. They are finishing

this morning, so I expect it will be extra dull when they have gone. I have been at the beach once since I came home, but I intend to have a few more dips there, and many more at the river before the season ends. Love to all the Little Folk.—Yours truly, C. O. D. (Otago). ['lt was unfortunate the afternoon turned out wet for the picnic, C. O. D. The boys must be happy creatures at their work. — DOT.] Dear Dot, —I spent part of my holidays at Christchurch, and I enjoyed them very much, for we had some lovely warm days down there. We are milking five cows, and I am learning to milk one. I have been bathing in the Waitaki River. It was great sport, only I was sunburnt. We have a lamb, and he has grown quite fat. We call him Billie, and we have a pup we call Ruff. Our school does not begin for a week, so we still have a long holiday. Best wishes to yourself and all.—Yours truly, SWEET DAISY (Glenavy). [That is a good name for the pup, Sweet Daisv. Is she friends with ibe _^ re you learning quickly to milk? —DOT.] Dear Dot, —I was very pleased to see my first letter in print. I have been away for five weeks, so could not see a V’-’tyeso I spent most of my time in Auckland, and had a lovely time. I went to Luna Park—the Exhibition amusement park—and had a great time. I though the dodg’ems best, and the fun factory next best. . I liked reading the Old Writers’ letters very much. They are all so packed full of information. Our apples are all dropping off, and like the old woman in the song I have to pick them all up. I am afraid this will have to be a short letter, as I will have to start again as soon as it is a little cooler. I have a dear little bay pony, but like most ponies, she is very tricky, and does her best to throw me. However, I have not been thrown for a long time. The garden is very dry, and the dahlias are the only flowers which nv fe making a good show.' Wo are having three weeks more for our holiday, as our teacher is attending the summer classes, but the other form has to go back. Forms IV and V are lucky this year. My apples are dropping still, so I will have to stop.—Yours truly. HAWK’S MATE (Opotiki).

[lt seems like old Exhibition times to hear fun factory and dodg’ems mentioned. Your-Form is lucky, Hawk’s Mate, but you will have to work hard when you go back to school. —DOT.] Dear Dot, —Some of the days have been so hot that we have had to go down to the Waitaki River to bathe. I have passed Standard VI, and I am hoping to be able to go to the Oamaru Girls’ High School for a year or two. Christmas is now over, bo we will have to try our hardest to go further on our way for the coming year. I have just arrived home a day or two ago from a holiday in Christchurch, and I enjoyed myself very much. Everything is new in the town when one lives in the country, although there is a town only 14 miles away. Which is better to live in, the town or the country? There are many different versions

of the question, but the country is the healthier. Best love to the Little Folk and yourself.—Yours trulv, THE LITTLE BRIDGEKEEPER (Glenavy). [ls the Waitaki a good river in which to bathe, Little Bridgekeeper? I cannot cay which is the better, town or country. Some prefer town and some country.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —May I join your happy band of Little Folk? I am 12 years of age, and in Standard VI. I have just come back from a holiday, which I spent at Macandrew’s Bay. I was down for five weeks. Have you a wireless set? We have. I was just listening to a band piece before I started to write this letter. Do you like reading? I like it very much. I have over 30 books, and over 10 annuals. My brother, The MotorMechanic is writing to you to-day. Love to all and vour own dear self.—Yours trulv, MISCHIEVOUS MARY (Dunedin). [Yes, you may join. Mischievous Mary. I have n.-jt a wireless set. Yes, I like reading. —DOT.] Dear Dot, —Have you ever been bitten by mosquitoes? I haven’t, but they are flying about to-night very thickly, so I hope I don’t have any bites from them. The farmers are busy cutting their crops here. We have our men harvesting. It is veryhot these days for working. One cannot keep cool unless one is bathing. I was home for the week end, and General’s Sweetheart, L.S.D. 11, and I went for a swim. We had a most beautiful swim. Can you swim? General’s Sweetheart and I went for a walk on Sunday, which we enjoyed most of all. 1 was visiting Mary Gold about a fortnight ago, and she and I had a merry time. Best wishes to vou and all.—Yours trn’v. MY PAL (Gimmerburn). [I am fortunate, for mosquitoes never bite me, My Pal. Where did you swim? Yes, I can swim.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —I was pleased to see mv first letter in print. We do not take the but our friend gives us theirs after they are finished with it. We have a gramophone here, which is at present going. We also have an accordian, which is very nice to have. We are all a very musical family, and are very fond of good music. My sister. My Pal, was home for the week end, and went away on Monday. She is out working and likes it very much. Can you swim? I can, and enjoy myself very much when I am paddling in the creek. Best love to yourself and all.—Yours truly, DADDY’S HELPER (Otago). 51 can swim, Daddy’s Helper. I am pleased you like music. Can you play the piano or violin?—DOT.] Dear Dot, —Since last writing I was at Wedderburn to see the shearing machines working, and I think they are wonderful. It "is much quicker than blades. Have you ever seen them working? Milk Maid Jean and I went to see them with some friends. I have been busy lately. I made myself two dresses. One was brown-checked gingham, and the other apricot linen. I should not like to be working out in tho fields these hot days. A few days ago I was out in the field riddling graas seed, while the

stripper ■went round and stripped it, and it was hot those days. We went for a bathe in the Ida Burn, and we had good fun. To-day we are thinking about going again. The farmers are very busy carting in the hay. I have not scsn any Ida Valley Little Folk writing to the page for a while. The other night Jimbo the cat jumped off mother's knee on to the top of the range. The poor little thing did cry. The telephone poles arc all up around Ida Valley, just the wires and cups have to go on, and the telephone to be put in. We are not having it in, because we are near the post <>filce._ The last two or three days the sun has dried up the grass quickly. Some of the children won’t like going back to school after their long holiday. Daddy’s Little Help and his brother are away rabbiting, so I jiist wonder how many they will bring home with them—not very many, I suppose. The farmers have been busy sending away their lambs. Two .flocks of sheep passed, the first with 800 and the other nearly 700. I would not mind the cheque. My youngest brother is just starting to speak, and some things do make us laugh. 1 have my auntie staying with me. Mother has just asked me if I am writing a novel. I hope that all the Little Folk are in the best of health, and your own dear self.—Yours truly DOT’S SWEETHEART (Ida Valley). l‘l have not seen shearing machines at work, Sweetheart. It must be hot working outside in Central Otago. How many rabbits <lid the boys catch?—DOT.] Dear Dot, —I enjoyed reading the Old Writers’ letters, as they were so long and interesting. I hope you spent a very happy Christmas. Did you go away for Christmas? I did not go away, as I had to stay and help with the cows. We have another cow milking now. Can you milk? My brother has another wee rabbit, and he is proud of it. I have had earache, but it is much lietter now. Have you ever had earache? I have been reading a book called “Hidden Creek.” Love to all.—Yours truly, MONZONE (Kahuika). [I cannot milk cows, Monzone. I did not go away for Christmas. I suppose I had earache when I was little.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —Now that the holiday season is here the express trains are crowded. The house quakes as they thunder by. At present there is in bloom in our garden a plant called the Yaka. It has many cream, cupshaped flowers near the top of a stem 2ft high. This is the first time in 11 years that it has flowered. Last week I was watching my uncle dipping lambs. It was a very hot <*ay, and some of the sheep were puffing like dogs. On Thursday we went for a ramble along the seashore. The sea was like glass. My sister brought home many sponges, of which she is very proud. We saw just the smoke of a ship. Sometimes boats come quite close in, but that one was not obliging. I am pleased to say that I have matriculated. Those interested would notice that there were no partial passes this year. I have just come from a picture called “Another Scandal.” Lois Wilson was heroine. _ There are many people on the street this afternoon. A U.F.S. picnic from another town is here. They were fortunate in having such a calm, cool day. Best wishes to all and you.—Yours truly’, PETIT CHOU (Canterbury). BI am pleased that you matriculated, Petit Chou. I noticed there were no partial passes this year. I have not seen a Yaka plant.—DOT.] Dear Dot,—May I join your happy band of Little Folk? I was at the Army camp at Karitane, and had a lovely time. We sispt in the school in hammocks. It is very up-to-date, one room with a wide verandah, and another room with a number of windows all round it, which they cal] the open air school. The playshed, where we slept, is joined to it. C. O. D. slept on the school verandah. We had to tease her till she told us her nom de plume. Sometimes C. O. D. used to leave the big girls and take us little ones for a dip, because we were too small to go far into the water bv ourselves. I think she is a very nice girl. She is 18, and we all thought she was only 11 or 15 I told her I was going to write, but I didn’t tell her my name. I have to go to school again next week, but I don’t want to. I won three prizes last year for progress, writing, and sewing. Love to all and yourself.—Yours truly, C. O D. s LITTLE PAL (Otago). [Welcome, C. O. D.’s Little Pal. I am pleased you like your big pal. The school must be a fine one.—DOT.] DearDot, —School starts to-morrow, and as I gained proficiency I do not have to go back. My sisters are away, so I am head cook. Father has stripped all the muscles on his arm. and he has to keen it in splints and a sling for a while, other and I have to milk nine cows between us. My brother’ cut and stocked the oats. Our plum tree was just loaded this year, but there are not very many on it now. We have some great times in our “boat.” It is a horse trough, and we put it in the creek and bring oars, and push it along. We have a great many chickens, and six little'ducks. Rind regards to all and your own dear self? —Yours truly, BONNIE JEAN (Timaru). [I am pleased you passed proficiency. Bonnie Jean. You will have to see that you cook properly. Your boat must be fun.— DOT.] Dear Dot,—Since I Ifist wrote we have been very busy with the shearing. The shearing was quite an adventure to me, as it was only the second shearing I had ever seen, and I. am quite sure the sheep were glad to he rid of all their wool. In November I went to the Carterton Show, and enjoyed myself very much, mostly on the chair-a-planes and the ocean wave, but I don t think they were as good as the ones at the Exhibition. On January 8 we were at the sports in Masterton’s Memoral Park, and we enjoyed ourselves very much. I liked watching the Highland dances and also the bicycle races, only during one of the first races, when turning one oL the corners, two voung men had a nasty spill off their bicycles. W’hen the next race was run I bid my face when they were turning that corner. I enjoyed reading the Old Writers’ letters, and wish I could write such interesting letters as they do. I don’t think I do. I wish I could write as well as Buzzing does. I look forward to reading her letters every week, and also those from Cook’s Cobber. But I suppose every Little Folk is trying to write his best in his own way. Kind regards to yourself and Little Folk.—Yours truly, RU-RU (Martinborough). [I can understand why you hid your face, TCu-TJu. It is hard to watch dangerous races sometimes. Sheep must be very glad to be rio of their wool.—DOT.] Dear Dot, On January 19 I went for a moonlight excursion down the harbour, and it was lovely. We went down on the lower deck as it as slightly breezy on top deck. We started from the wharf at 8 o’clock with the West Harbour Band playing all th° latest jazzes. The ferry called in at all the bays going down the harbour, and had a clear run home. We watched the lights from

the shore twinkling in the distance. Then the moon began to rise from behind a bank of dark, angry-looking clouds. It was just beautiful shining across the water. We went past Port Chalmers, but did not call in. There were two lovely big boats in the harbour - there. It was 11.15 p.m. when we arrived back to the wharf, and as we had missed our last car we had to walk, but enjoyed it as it was such a moonlight night. I went to see “The Iron Horse.” It was very interesting, and just showed what the pioneers had to go through before their hopes of the Transcontinental railway were realised. The way the picture was planned was great. Of course there was one man there, an Irishman, of the name of Casey, who was very comical. There were some sad parts in the picture too, but I did not feel like crying, as it takes a very sad picture or story to make me cry. To-night when I went to bring the Witness the shop was nearly full of children buying their school books. My brother just came back from camp yesterday, and is sunburnt. I heard some of Caruso’s records, and could have listened to them all night, but they had to be returned as they weren’t ours. Love to all.—Yours -truly. TOMBOY MOLLY (Dunedin). [I cannot tell you the answer to your question, Tomboy Molly. Was your brother at Matarae ? The evenings are beautiful just now—DOT.] Dear Dot, —We came back from our holidays on Saturday after spending a most enjoyable holiday. My sister, Mother’s Brown Eyes, is writing to Smiling to-night, as she owes her a letter. The public schools started to-day. I do not know where the holidays have gone to' this year. It seems no time since the schools broke up for the holidays. My brothers and sister brought home all the lists for their new books to-day, so mother and I have to go shopping to-morrow and buy them. It is a big item buying new books. Did you go away for the holiday? I am sure you need a rest. You must have quite a number of Little Folk writing to your page now. Love to all and your own dear self. —Yours trulv, PINKY BLOSSOM (Dunedin). [The holidays have flown, Pinky Blossom. I did not go away. New books cost many pennies these days.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —We are having very warm weather here. There is to be an excursion to Colac Bay next Friday, and as the train passes through Garston, I suppose we will all go to it. My uncle is staying with us. He has not been to see us for 11 years, so we were pleased to see him. Love to all the Little Folk. —Yours truly. A MINER’S DAUGHTER (Garston). [You must be pleased to see your uncle again, Miner’s Daughter. Tell me about the excursion to Colac Bay, if you go.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —We started school yesterday, and to-day I bought all my new books for Standard VI. I am starting to read “Westward Ho,” by Charles ’ Kingsley to-night. Have you ever read it? We went to Company’s Bay for two weeks and came home on Saturday after having a pleasant holiday. I went in for a number of swims every day, and I think it is far easier to swim in salt water than swim in fresh. Best love to all and your own dear self. —Yours truly, THE OFFICE BOY (Dunedin). [I have read “Westward Ho.” Office Boy. You will have to work hard this year now you are in Standard VI.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —My sister has a dear wee halfPcrsian kitten, and it is very playful. We have a little girl staying here, and she squeals with horror when the kitten runs after her toes. The. beach is our favourite resort this summer. Several times we have motored down for the day, and have had a splendid time fishing and bathing. Before we left the last time I said I was going to fish, and they could catch the bait, but my brother told me quite calmly I might as well try to fly. I am now quite used to receiving such answers, so I take no notice of them. I had intended taking my camera with me, but when we were half way down the road I made the sad announcement that my camera was in the garage instead of in the car. The beach looked very pretty then, for there were rata trees in bloom hanging right down to the edge of the water when the tide was in. Further along we went in for a bathe. It as not so deep there or we would not have had a bathe, as neither of us can swim. I would very much like to learn to swim, but I should be scared of a crab catching hold of my toes. I have no liking for crabs at all. As we went round the rocks I picked up some shells for my collection. I know the names of some, but they are jaw-breakers. We kept a fair distance from the caves, for we didn’t want to be eaten by sandflies, which are very plentiful. Love to yourself and all.—Yours truly, MONKEY EYES (Tahakopa). [Crabs will not bite your toes, Monkey Eyes. You can swim away from them (when you learn), if they do.—DOT.] Dear Dot, —The holidays have gone very quickly, and we will be going back to school again. We have three little kittens. My sister and brother and 1 have one each. One day my brother and I went to a friend’s place with a little rooster. We put it in a bag and put the bag and rooster in a basket, so that it would be easier to carry. When we arived there we played for a long time with our little friend, and then went home with the three kittens, and we have good fun with them. Do you like kittens? I do. I did not go anywhere for my holidays. We have two cows milking now, and we receive many buckets of milk. Our lambs are growing big, but we still feed them with a bottle. Love to all and your own dear self. —Yours truly, A LITTLE HEATH MAID (Otago Central). [I like kittens; they are so “squeezeable,” Little Heath Maid. Does the little rooster like his new home?—DOT.] Dear Dot, —We are milking 27 cows, and they ars milking very well considering the dry weather we have had. I still have the task of taking the milk to the factory. I like it all right in the fine weather, but do not take to it in the wet, as we have such a long way to go, and not a very good road. We hope it will be better by next season, as they have the worst part of it gravelled. It will take a while to settle, as there is not much traffic on it. Lily Blossom has another son, and he is such a dear wee chap. Jim’s Chum is still working for her, but she is looking forward to having a change one of these days. Our baby is quite big now, and is such a hard case. He is just learning to talk, and the funny things he says keep us amused for quite a while.— Yours truly, WAIPANGO LASSIE (Ermedale). [What funny sayings does baby say, Waipango Lassie? A good road makes much difference to travelling. Is Lily Blossom’s son a favourite?—DOT.] Dear Dot, —Sometimee I wonder how some people can work in such heat as we are having. I was not able to go to church yesterday. Last year I won first prize.

I first started “school in Waimate when I was seven years old. I was here for only two months, then I was away for two years, and in 1925 I went to Waiharunga. I started at the beginning of the year, and left in the three weeks’ holidays just before the last term. Then last, year I started on May 10 at Maungatua and left on October 4. I started here on November 1, and so I finished the year. I also forgot to tell you that I am now in Standard 111. I was only in Standard II one term. Love to all the Little Folk,— lours turly, ’ ' WESTERN’ SUNSET (Otago). [Work- hard now you have begun school again, Western Sunset. You have had manv changes in schooling.—DOT.] NOTES. Little Folk and Old Writers.—Do any of you know the address of Kathie (Old Writer)? £cn d h 1° me if you know it.— AUTO.S. Sparkling Dewdrop (Nellie Milne, The .terrace, Edendalc South) wishes to correspond with any Little Folk willing, and will they please write first? The .Little Butterfly (Linda Travis, Box 89, c/o W. Carline, Alexandra) wishes to correspond with Bonnie Jean, Rosebud’s Pal, and Little Duck. Will they write soon and first ? Sweet Blue Violet (Georgina J. Milne, c/o Mr B. Compton, Eelendale South) wishes to correspond with any Little Folk from 13 to 17 years, and requests them to write first, please. Peter the Ferret, Daphne Scheib, Box 12, Cromwell) wishes to correspond with The Office Boy and Jacko the Monkey. Will they please write first? — Golden Leaflet (K. Winslade, Kelso) wishes to correspond with any Little Folk willing from 12 to 14 years of age. Bonnie Jean (Brenda Stowell, Pareora West, via Timaru) wishes to correspond with Pink Lady, Rose the Red, and Pussy Willow. Will they please write first and soon? Mischievous Mary (M. Wallace, Prestwick street, Maori Hill) would like Flowsr of the May and Lady Rowena to write. Tomboy Molly (Molly Sheehan, 5 Eton street, Kaikorai, Dunedin) wishes to correspond with Tossie and The Merry Snowball and any other Little Folk from 18 to 20 willing. .