LETTERS FROM LITTLE FOLK.

Otago Witness, Issue 4039, 11 August 1931, Page 69

LETTERS FROM LITTLE FOLK.

Motto. —We write for the benefit of others, not for ourselves. A LETTER TO DOT. Dear Dot, —Greetings, most kindly greetings, to thee, Queen Dot, and all thy Little Folk, also thy Old Writers that thou lovest so well, from a Quaker Literary Scholar. Thou art to be very highly commended on thy good work for the Little Folk. Thou art the literary mother of the Little Folk and Old Writers alike, Queen Dot. Thy Little Folk come to thee with their joys and sorrows, their hopes and aspirations, their successes and triumphs, their failures and disappointments, and thou triest to say the right words to them in reply to their letters sent. I always love thy replies to them. I saw the other week that one .of thy Little Folk was not pleased with thee, because thou wouldst not say at the time if thou wert dark or fair. Well, to satisfy them all, I will tell them what the Quaker Scholar thinks thou art like. Here ia the picture I have painted in words of thee: “The lady with the golden hair, the eyes showing, forth love and kindness, the nicely shaped Grecian nose showing forth love of culture, books, and learning, the nicely-shaped mouth with good humour peeping from the corners, the swan neck, and the tall, slender body, nicely robed.” Likest thou the picture, Dot? It was said of Osman, an ideal man created by the great Emerson, that all in sorrow and distress came to visit him in his home, and that he helped them and cheered them and tried to send them away happy. The great New England thinker and scholar, the beet man New England produced in his day, being .descended from eight generations of good living New England clergymen, said that to be like Osman was to be rich in the true sense of the word. I may say right here that 1 pay thee a very high compliment indeed when I say that thou art like unto a daughter of the great Osman. Thou art the Queen Osman for thy Little Folk. 1 hope thou wilt teach thy Little Folk that

to excel in lessons, in play, and in sport Endurance is the crowning quality And patience all the passion Of great hearts. I like those lines. Charles Lamb, the great English essayist, said of my own people, the Quaker children, that every one of them was a lily, and at Whitsuntide they came bounding forth like troops of the shining ones. I think thy Little Folk come forth every week to Queen Dot like troops of the “ writing ” ones. I think thou wilt quite agree with me in that statement. I am sorry to see that thy Little Folk do not break forth into song sometimes. 1 think that is a defect in the letters. A few may touch the magic strings. And noisy fame is proud to win them; Alas, for those who never sing, And die with all the music in them. Dost thou note the sad undertone of those lines? I think that they are very touching. I think this is all I have to say. I send the kindest regards to thee, Queen Dot, and to all thy Little Folk, also to the Old Writers. I wish them all well, that they may live long on the earth, and that they will reflect credit on Queen Dot. Spring is the best season of the year, so I send thee, Dot, a bunch of violets as a mark of respect for thy good work among the Little Folk.—Yours truly, A QUAKER LITERARY SCHOLAR (Dunedin). It was a pleasant surprise to receive your letter, Quaker Literary Scholar; but you pay me far too many generous compliments. It is not I who am responsible for the happy tone in the page so much as the Little Folk (and, in their week, the Old Writers), who send me the letters that draw forth my replies. We are like a tree. Martin Pippin in Eleanor Farjeon’s charming book asks: “ What do you love in an apple tree? ’’ And the answer, of t&urse, is that you love everything in it—trunk, branches, blossom, leaves, and fruit —and not one special part of it at • all. So it is with the Little Folk and me. The portrait you have painted of me is very pretty, but I cannot hope to live up to it; for, for one thing, my hair is not golden, but brown. But it is kind of you to have thought about me, and especially kind of you to have compared me to a “daughter of Osman.” I should like to feel that, some day, I might be worthy of that name. I am printing your letter because I think it will interest the Little Folk,

feeeina that it deale go fully'with them find theirs. Perhaps, now that you have suggested it, they will “ break forth into song.” I should like them to do so, for I think that the composing of verse is good for everyone; but I should be the last to agree with you that the lack of poetry in the letters is a defect. Such a word, I think, is too severe. Your violets were very beautiful. They arrived on August 1, and lasted a remarkably long time on my desk. It was kind of you to send them. And thank you for writing. -I appreciated your letter very much. I return to you the good wishes you have offered to me and mine, and hope that you are well and happy. Your sincere friend, DOT.

Dear Dot, —I must pen you a few more lines. I have not much news of any kind, but I must write more frequently to the page. We have had another fsK.ll of snow since I last wrote to you. The poor animals cannot get anything to eat when the ground is covered with snow. We are feeding our cows with straw just now. Since last writing to you I was at a plain and fancy dress ball, held in the Mossburn Hall. There were four prizes given for fapcy dress and one for the lucky spot waltz. The ones that won prizes were dressed as follows:—“A Christmas Tree,” “ A Gollywog,” “ Charlie Chaplin,” and “ A Merrj r Widow.” I did not go in fancy dress. I wore a pink taffeta frock with silver lace, a blue velvet bridge coat, and silver shoes and stockings. There was an oldtimers’ dance in Mossburn the othe r week, but I did not go to it. My mother’s cousin died recently in the Cromwell Hospital. She was just 17 years of age. About a year ago she went under an operation for appendicitis. She appeared to be making good progress until six months ago, when complications set in, and she had to undergo a second operation. She had been working in Dunedin since she left high school. About three months ago she returned from Dunedin to her home in Arrowtown. On July 25 she received medical attention, and on July 27 was taken to Cromwell Hospital, where a minor operation was performed. She did not rally from this, and she passed peacefully away in the evening. I have not seen any letter in from Pam, the Lavender Girl, or The Lady with the Lamp for a long time. I am enclosing a snapshot of the millhands taken at our place in June. They had just finished threshing our fescue, and they lined up and were taken by the mill. The elevators of the mill were tied down, and the belt from the engine to the mill was taken off, ready for them to shift to the next place they were to go to. I had a letter from Fairy of the Golden Lily the other week. I like receiving letters from her. Bacco, the pup, has a mate now, and they have great fun chasing each other through the snow. Dad is still Tabbiting, but he does not poison them now. He ferrets. A ferret is something like a weasel. One covers the rabbit holes with nets and puts the ferrets in, and the ferrets chase the rabbits out of the holes into the nets. If any of the rabbits get out of the nets the dogs catch them. Sometimes they get into another set, of holes before the dogs can catch them. Well, I must close, with kind regards to the page and yourself.— Yours truly, MOTHER’S RIGHT HAND GIRL (Southland). [How pretty your dress must have been, Mother’s Right Hand Girl! I am sure you must have looked very pretty. I was sorry to read about the death of your mother’s cousin, and hope she did not suffer too much pain before the end came. The snapshot you have enclosed is very interesting, and had it been “ sharp ” enough I should have liked to publish it. Thank you for sending it. Give the' two pups a roll-over for me.— DOT.]

Dear Dot, —It is now some time since I wrote to you, and as I have some spare time at present, I will endeavour to write a few lines. I notice that a number of Little Folk who were not regular writers are writing of late. 1 am not a regular writer by any means, but I always read the page. I still receive letters from my correspondents. A few weeks ago I had a letter from one who had not written for seven months. She was inviting me to her place for a holiday, but 1 could not go. Our -weather recentlj- has been good, but before that we had a very rough spell. We had the heaviest fall of snow for years, and besides the snow, it blew, rained, and hailed. It was very __ hard on the animals. My sister reads the ' Little Folk’s letters now, and is very enthusiastic about them. At present she is wondering if she could write a letter to you. She will join when she can write well enough. My pal also has a notion to join, and says she will if I can give her a good nom de plume. I was at the euchre party the other Saturday night. We have euchre once a fortnight and a dance once a month. I enjoy dance night better, but euchre is all right to pass the time away. I also attend the library, and have read a few books of late. Some of them are “ Pink Sugar,” by O. Douglas, “ Patricia Brent, Spinster,” and “ The White Flag.” The one I am reading at present is “ The Proper Place,” by O. Douglas. I'am very fond of reading. On a cold night one cannot better a good book and a good fire. We have two new records, “ The Rocky Road to Dublin ” and “ A Little Black Moustache,” and “ The Belle ot Bodensu ” and “Evelina,” mazurka. I will close now with kindest regards to you and all the Little Folk.—Yours truly, GERANIUM (Southland).

[You must be a regular writer to your correspondents, Gejanium, or you would not receive so many letters from them. How sweet of your sister to want to be a Little Folk! Can she not write to me? I should be delighted to receive her letter. I hope you can find a good nom de plume for your pal, as I should like to hear from her. I am glad that you are fond of reading, for it is a good pastime for you.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —It is a long time since I wrote, so I will make a start now. We are going to have our examination soon. There was a fall of snow recently. My sister and I were sliding down the hills

on pieces of tin. It was very exciting. Guriy Whirly has not written for a long time. We are milking only one cow. Colleen was a very nice name for the calf. Colleen goes away with the cow to the turnips. I give her chaff and bran twice a day. I made a cover for the calf, and she liked it. We have a wee pup, and we call him Tip. Our pup likes playing with the cat, and it is very exciting to watch him. Our hens are not laying very well. There is a euchre party and dance held in our school. Mj r father and sister are playing ludo. Love to all the Little Folk and your own dear self. —Yours truly, PEN NIB (Milton). [I wish you good luck in your examination, Pen Nib. Let me know how you do in it. I should have liked to see you sliding on the tin, and can imagine how exciting it was. It pleased me to hear of Colleen’s cover, and 1 do not doubt that she likes it. How pretty it must be to see the pup and the eat together! —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —I must tell you of the recent snowfall that we have had. . It was very deep, aud there were drifts in places, such as at gates and gaps, so that it prevented people from going through. Dad was ploughing on the face of a lull, and the snow was still, so deep there that he had to miss places. One of the first days that we had the snow my brothers and I blocked up snow around the wheels of a neighbour’s car, and he had to dig it out with a hammer. 1 have been at the schoolhouse nursing a sick woman. The first day that she was up, the snow was thick on the ground, so she sat af the kitchen window watching three boys enjoying themeelves in the snow. I also watched them, and what a time they had. They fought so hard that they hardly had time to breathe. We were wishing that it had been screened, as we just roared laughing at them. About three weeks ago I was nearly in fits with toothache. I would often be up until 4 o’clock or 5 o’clock in the morning, so I went the other week and had my teeth all out. I was afraid, because I thought I would have chloroform, but mum told me that I would be given ether, so that was not so bad, but when we went into the dentists he said that I was to have chloroform. I started to shake, but the doctor knew me, and knew that I was nervous, go he gave me it very slowly, and I thought it lovely. At the time when I thought it would kill me, it was given to me quickly. I now have to get false teeth. I thank a Tasmanian Girl for sympathising with me. I had Maid Muriel and Neeron to see me the other Sunday. I will close with love to all the Little Folk and your own dear self. —Yours truly, A FLOWER GIRL (Southland). [How deep the snow must have been, A Flower Girl! Your father would be sorry about it when he was playing. I like your description of it, and the way you and your patient enjoyed watching the boys snowfighting through the window. Ton were wise to have your teeth out —even if the doctor did give you chloroform. I am glad you were not frightened this time.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —As I have some spare time, I thought I would write to your page. The reason that . I did not write before was because I have been busy with my lessons and with my Guide work. I have gained my second class at Guides. 1 have been in the company for two years now, and all the rest but two have been Guides for three years. My cat, Billy, went away a few weeks ago on the Friday, and did not come back until the Sunday morning. When he came back we shut him up for the day, because we thought that if we did so he would forget all about his trip away from home. Next day we let him out. He stayed at home for two weeks, then he went away, and ever since then he goes away nearly every day. There was a snowfall here the other night. About a quarter of an inch of snow fell on the ground. We went sliding up the hill next day. We play hockey at school. I would rather play hockey than basket ball. I hope to write more frequently in future. Love to you and the Little Folk.—Yours truly, SUNNY CENTRAL OTAGO (Clyde). [I am glad that you like Guide work, Sunny Central Otago. Congratulations on gaining your second class after only two years. Billy may have friends somewhere, and that is why he keeps leaving you. Have you tried smearing a little butter on his paws? He will lick them and like the taste, and may decide that if home tastes so delicious he will not go away again.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —I have not written to your page for a long time. Last time I wrote I was in Grove Bush, but we have shifted to Toa. I drove the cows to Toa. I go to Rimu School in the Wyndham bus. W e had a school concert. We are having bad weather, and on two nights there was thunder. I am in Standard 111 now. We milk one cow. I hope you have not forgotten me. I like my new teacher. Love to all the Little Folk and your dear self.—Yours truly, PEARLY DEW (Southland).

[Did you drive the cows all the wav from Grove Bush to Toa, Pearly Dew? If so. how important you would feel and how happy! I suppose the concert was a great success and that you had a part in it. No, I had not forgotten you. DOI’ 1 ] made y ° U tbink that I had? —

Dear Dot, —The weather we have been experiencing lately has be.n very changeable, and one Sunday morning, when I rose and looked out of my window, I was very much surprised to see the world outside coverel with a thin mantle of white snow. My brother is hoping to gain his proficiency at the end of this year. I like reading the stories in the Otago Witness. 1 think they are very interesting. We are busy practising for the school concert, which is to be held at the end of the term. Our hens are laying at present, and have been laying for a while now. Our pup, Maiid, "Was running after my father and went to jump over a gate, and she got caught on a nail which was

projecting out of the gate. She tore her side, which looks very sore, but we could not help her to heal the sore, as she licked it so. The sore is growing better now, and I am glad. We started our examination on Friday. I do hope 1 will pass. We live about two miles from school. I leave about 9 o’clock, as our school goes in at 9.20. I cycle, and if it is raining my father drives us in the motor car, and we take our bicycles on the side of the car, and we then cycle home after school. I must close now, with kindest regards to the page and yourself. Yours truly, FOREST GIRL (Southland).

[I am glad that j-ou like the stories, Forest Girl. Most of them are interesting. You must tell me about the concert when you have had it. I hope it will be a success. How sad about poor Maud and her nasty accident! She was really doing good for herself when she was licking the wound, or it would -not have healed so soon. Good luck in your examination. —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —I suppose you will be thinking that I have forgotten you. 1 have been very busy with my lessons, as I am in Standard VI at school, and I hope to gain my proficiency, so that 1 may go to high school. A few weeks ago we had a fall of heavy snow. It was the heaviest since the flood in 187 S. It is very cold here, and I think it will snow again. My uncle is in hospital with a big boil on his neck. My mother, who stays in town, went to see the capping carnival, : nd said it was very good. I went to see the hunt, and it was very good, although the weather -was rough. I am saving cigarette certificates, and I have 174. 1 am going to get a camera and case. 1 still enjoy reading your page, and I do not like missing it. I shall close now. — Yours truly, YELLOW CROCUS FLOWER (Kakapuaka). [I like to hear of my Little Folk working hard at their lessons, Yellow Crocus Flower, and I hope you will pass your proficiency examination and go to high school as you desire. Is your uncle in great pain? I hope he will be better soon. When you get your camera you must send me a photograph of yourself. I am glad that you like my page.—DOT.]

Dear Dot,—May I join your happy band of Little Folk? I am nine

years of age. and I am in Standard I at school, and I am making a little mat. I have almost finished it. We have four cows, six horses, and 80 to 88 hens. We have two cats, and their names are Pussy and Fluffy. We had a heavy fall of snow and great fun snowballing. I will now close, with kindest regards to all the Little Folk and your own dear self.—Youre truly, C. D. M. (Milburn).

[You may certainly join, C. D. M. How nice that you are making a mat for yourself! What is it like? And what are you going to use it for? 1 should like to see Pussy and Fluffy, and hope they are good friends. Did they make little footprints in the snow?— DOT.]

Dear Dot.—May I join your happy band of Little Folk? I am 11 years of age, and I am in Standard 111 at school. There are only four pupils in Standard 111. We had a heavy fall of snow. It was nine feet deep in some of the drifts. We have about 88 hens, but they are not laying many eggs, also four cows and six horses. I am working an apron at school for sewing, and I have it nearly finished. The boys do raffia work, and my brother is making a sewing basket. I will now close, with kindest regards to all.—Yours truly, MILBURN ROSE (Milburn).

[You are very welcome, Milburn Rose, but I have had to alter your name, as somebody else had chosen it. You seem to make very sensible things at your school, and I am sure you are all happy at being so buoy. That snow was extremely deep. I am glad you did not fall into any of the drifts.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —A number of things have happened since I last wrote you. 1 have been to my uncle’s wedding in Invercargill. We had an exciting day, as we had to leave home early, because the wedding was at 11 o’clock. The day before the wedding we felt very disappointed, as we thought we might not get our car through the heavy snowfall, especiallly when we heard that the News bus could riot go to Invercargill. But everything turned out. all right, for the rain came down and melted the snow. 1 have started to learn the piano, and 1 like it very much. I hope some day to be able to play well, because I love music. Now I will close, as I am grow-

I ing tired. Love to the Little Folk and yourself.—Yours truly, MAJESTIC GIRL (Wyndham). [You made mo very anxious when you spoke of being unable to go to the wedding on account of the snow, Majestic Girl. But I cheered up considerably when I heard that the snow had melted. It must have been a very exciting moment for you. Practise well and you will be able to play well. —DOT.] * *

Dear Dot,—l have not written to you for a long time. The other morning when I woke up and looked out of the window, I saw about four inches of snow on the ground. My birthday was last month, and I received a football for a birthday present. Gwynett’s birthday was three days before mine. It is very cold driving to school on the frosty mornings, and Jack Frost pinches our fingers and toee. We shall soon be having our term examination, and I hope I shall be top of my class. I like our new teacher very much, because he does not scold me so often as the other teachers did. At present I am reading a book entitled “The Pied Piper,” and it is very interesting. Gwynett is writing this letter for me, as I cannot write very well. Love to all Little Folk and your own dear self. —Yours truly, SANDY’S PLAYMATE (Kyeburn). [That was a most sensible present, Sandy’s Playmate. It will last for a very long time and will give you ever so much fun and pleasure. Do not burst it. Jack Frost is a very “ pinchy ” person, and loves the feel of fingers and toes. 1 am glad your teacher does not scold you. How dear of Gwynett to write your letter for you!—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —It is ages since I last wrote to you, and I have made up my mind to be a more regular writer. As I am writing this letter Sandy’s Playmate is playing the gramophone. We have a number of records. The other, day Dimples-o, and I made a huge snowman that was taller than I am. My birthday was last month, and my birthday presents were a big book and a pretty brooch. I love reading, and the book I am reading at present is called “The Swiss Family Robinson.” Have you read it? We are receiving only one or two eggs a day from our hens now. I enjoyed reading Heather Sprig’s description of snow in Mokoreta. At present I am

working a table centre, and I have nearly finished it. Our baby is six months and one week old, and he is a darling. We have a pet rabbit, and it is very rare, its colour being yellow, black, and white. I will close now, with love to all the Little Folk and your own dear self.—Yours truly, GWYNETT (Kyeburn).

[Yours is a good resolution, Gwynett, and I hope you will follow it, for you write a good letter. That mustfliave been a very tall snowman. Did he have a funny face? I have read that book, and I thought it enjoyable. Take great care of your rabbit, and never forget to give it plenty of food, for it depends on you. —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —You will be thinking that I am not going to write to you. We are having heavy falls of snow, and sometimes we have frosty mornings, but it is fine afterwards. I am in the junior team in basket ball. A month ago we went down to Invercargill, but we did not win. I enjoy a game of basket ball, because there is a great deal of fun in connection with it. I am glad winter is nearly over, because the place looks bare without any flowers, but now the daffodils are coming through. Mavis was one year old on July 10, and I was 10 on August 10. I had a party last year, but I did not have one this year. Love to all the Little Folk and your own dear self. —Yours truly. TWINKLE TILL (Gore). [I like the fine day that follows a frosty night. Twinkle Till. It is always so clear and bracing. You will be glad to see the daffodils appearing. Are they your favourite spring flowers? You probably had plenty of fun even though you did not have a party on your birthday. Parties are not everything.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —It is many months since I last wrote to you. What a difference the extra penny postage made to the page, but it is steadily increasing again. The scenery about our new home is very pretty. Everywhere we look we see white-capped, bush-clad mountains. In the north the valley winds for many a mile through them. In the east and west there is not a very long distance between them. In the south the head of Lake Hawca can be seen and a few smaller mountains. When the last rays of the setting sun are shining on the white tops, they seem to have changed from their pure whiteness to a glowing pink. AH along the mountain sides are dense bush-covered

gullies, out of which run small streams, but which in flood time are very danger- ’ ous. I have read several books since 1 I came up here, including “ Child of the I Wild,” by Edison Marshall, “ What Came ; to Cinderella,” by Curtis York, “ The Hansom Cab Mystery,” by Fergus Hume, “ Sunny Ducrow,” by Henry St. John Cooper. “ The Rosary,” by Florence Barclay, “ Martin Rattler,” and “ Freckles ” and “ At the Foot of the Rainbow,” both by Gene Stratton Porter. We have not had very much frost this winter, mostly snowstorms, rain, and cold winds, although lately we have had some lovely , days. My daffodils, crocuses, and hycinths are up, and will soon be flowering, I hope. The buds on the trees are also swelling. There is a big difference in the length of the days now. Our hens are laying well, arid mother has set her first lot of eggs to hatchi I have not been ■ doing very much fancywork lately. I have still an apron to finish and also an oval travcloth. Ao I cannot think of anything else to write about I will close.— Yours truly, A BUNCH OF CHERRIES (Hawea - Flat). [You are fortunate to live in such a beautiful place, A Bunch of Cherries, and I hope you will always appreciate it. I can imagine your sunset scenes. The. mountains seems to breathe, do they not? You will be glad when spring comes, if your flowers are already above the ground. You must tell me when the chickens are hatched, for I love seeing baby chickens! —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —It is a long time since I last wrote to the page. The sun is beginning to shine. We have shifted in to a new home since I last wrote. My sister and I went for a ride the other day. We saw a redbill in the river. Spring is coming, for the daffodils, tulips, and crocuses are peeping above the ground, and the trees are all in bud. There are several wild cattle up here to be fed on hay in the winter time. A few weeks ago the ice on a pond here was about two inches thick, and my youngest sister and myself walked across it. We could not go fast, because we would have toppled over. I broke the ice into fairly large pieces, and built an ice house. It did not melt away for a few days. Some of the books which I have been reading lately are “ Emily of New Moon,” “Emily Climbs,” “ Emily’s Quest,” and “Rilla of Ingleside,” all of which are by L. M. Montgomery. Have you ever read them? I think that

they are all very interesting. I have two correspondents through your page. Most of the flat country up here is swamp. There was about half an inch of snow up here a while back. The hares come into the garden at night and eat the carrots and apple trees. Mother set traps for them and caught one, then the hawks started eating the hen eggs, so she used the hare for a bait and set some traps round it and caught two hawks. The mountain tops here are white with snow, and look very beautiful in the moonlight. Theie are several waterfalls about seven miles up the valley, though there are only one or two very large ones. There are still a good many deer up here. There were seven deer on the face of the mountains on the eastern side of this house. There are several swamp turkeys up here, which come and' eat the fowls’ feed when mum goes away. This place is about 20 miles north of our old home, and is situated two or three miles from the head of Lake Hawea. It is 31 miles from the nearest post office. We do not receive a mail very regularly. Sometimes we do not get our mail for four weeks. The onlv means of communication are by boat/horseback, and walking. One can go 10 miles by car. Sometimes the 10 miles have to be walked or travelled on horseback. Well, as it is growing late I will close, with love to all the Little Folk and your own dear self.— Yours truly, A WILD ROSE BUSH (Hunter Valley). [I have not heard of any other Little Folk making an ice-house, A Wild Rose Bush, so I am specially interested. Did you feel like an Eskimo as you built it? I am sure you did. I am sorry to hear that your carrots and eggs and fowl feed are being stolen, and hope the trouble will soon stop. You are well away from city noises, are you not? Have you a wireless’ —DOT.]

Dear Dot.—May I join your happy band of Little Folk? I am 11 years of age, and in Standard IV at school. I am reading a book just now called “Little Lord Fauntleroy.” I enjoy reading the Little Folk's letters. I read them every week. I have two brothers and one sister. Aly sister is married, and has a dear wee baby girl five months old. She will soon be able to talk to everybody. We are milking three cows just now, and I sometimes go out and milk one or two. I am not very ''good at milking yet. Our daffodils are peeping through the ground, and it will not be long before they are out in flower. I like flowers very much. Our hens are

not laying very well just now. I think it is because of the cold weather. We have had a good deal of snow up here this winter, and very hard frosts. Now I will close, with love to your own dear self and all the Little Folk.—Yours truly, A PENNY STAMP (Arrowtown). [You may certainly join, A Penny Stamp, and I hope you will write me plenty of letters. I read “Little Lord Fauntleroy ” many years ago. Do you like Dearest” in it? I should like to see your baby niece, who is, I am sure, a very adorable small person. I am glad that you like flowers.—DOT.] * ¥ if. Dear Dot.—May I join your happy band of Little Folk? I can read the letters now, and I like them very much. I am eight years of age, and in Standard I at school. I have two brothers going to school. One is in Standard VI and the other .in Standard* 111. Aly sister, Geranium, hag. written a letter to you this.week. I have a calf which my uncle gave me. It is black with a white spot cn its face. _Would you please give me a name for it? Me had snow three weeks ago. I liked playing in it. We are milk three cows. Their names are Mac. Cherry, and Alidget. I will close now, with love to all.—Yours truly, AIITZI GREEN (Southland). [Certainly you may join. Alitzi Green. Are you as famous a little girl as your namesake? And would you, too, like to act in motion pictures? It is pleasing.to be able to read, is it not—far more so than having to have things read aloud to you. I think, seeing that black and white is such a smart combination, I should cab the calf “ Chic'.”—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —I am afraid I am a rather bad Little Folk, as it is some considerable time since I last wrote to your page. We have had some bad weather lately, ami I very much dislike having to spend most oi my time indoors, which I have lately been compelled to do, as it has been so wet and cold. The other morning, howeyer, there was the most wonderful and beautiful sunrise I have seen for a long time. Lines of golden fire ran level with the eastern horizon. A bank of thin, almost transparent, fleecy clouds gradually turned rose as the golden lines appeared to recede and the day brightened. The eastern sky uas opalescent, but above the western horizon it was dark; and every moment it changed the blue growing bluer. The bank of clouds was now a pearly pink, its upper edge touched with silver, and just above the horizon shone the bright disc of the rapidly rising sun. The rest of the morning and part of the afternoon were magnificent. There was hardly a cloud in sight, but later, towards evening, the sky seemed as though it was to become a thing of the past, as it was completely obscured by a leaden blanket of clouds. Since that day we have hardly had a glimpse of the sun, except through a rift in the clouds. Even as I am writing this the rain is crashing on the roof, and the poor little lambs are huddled together in the cold. 1 received a letter from Apple Flower the other day. In it she says that they hive been having a great deal of snow where she is. The story regarding the signalman and his ape Jack which I retold in my last letter to the page was perfectly true. I read it, I think, in an old Wide AVond Magazine. Recently the wind changed to the east, and for hours one could not see the hills for the cloak of rain which enveloped them. This caused the river to rise so rapidly that, as we stood on the end of the veranda we could perceive it mounting higher and higher, as if it would never stop. Huge logs and trees went tumbling down the churning water, and still it rose. There is a piece of land on the accretion, which is cut off during a flood, and as it was very soon separated from the land and the water was still rising, we were afraid that some of the stock which were on the island would be drowned. At last, much to everyone's relief, the river gradually went down and the cattle were all right. Well, I must close, with kind regards to yourself and the Little Folk.— Yours truly. TE AIATAI (Palmerston North).

[Never mind, Te Alatai. When you do write you make up for your silence by sending me a very delightful letter/so it does not really matter. The sunrise must have been very beautiful. You have a keen eye for colour, and seem to appreciate all its changes. Have you ever tried to paint? And how exciting about the river! I am glad no damage was done at such a bad time of the year.—DOT.] ¥ ¥ ¥ Dear Dot.—lt is so long since I wrote to you that I suppose you will have forgotten me. When the snow was on* the ground my two sisters and my brother were out sliding down a hill.at the back cl the house. Aly brother and I enjoyed it. but our little sisters said it was too cold, and went back to the fireside again. When we woke up we could not see out of our bedroom window, as it was covered with snow, but we went and looked out of the window at the other side of the house. All the trees and bushes were covered with snow, and their branches are drooping with the weight. One of our cats was trying to walk in the snow, but it was so deep it could hardly move along. When I went out I put on an old pair of dad’s trousers and a pair of leggings, so when I fell over I did not. get wet. The snow was very soft to handle, as there -was no sleet or hail amongst it. I like going to school in the snow. M’e have been having wet weather, and I went to school dressed up - in dad’s coat and boots. At school I am j making a nightdress out of light pink cotton fuji. For bandwork I have just finished making a pair of woollen slippers for myself, and they are very cosy and warm these days. As I have no more news I will close, with love to all the Little Folk and your own dear self. — Yours truly, RON ROSE (Romahapa). [No, you are not forgotten, Ron Rose, although I admit that it is a long time since you last wrote to me. . You seem to have had good fun in the snow. How quaint you must have looked in the trousers and leggings! I wish you had had your-photograph "taken, and then I could have seen you. I hope j y ou will write again soon, for you write a good letter.— DOT.]

Dear Dot, —There was a thick layer of snow on the ground the other day, and the trees and bushes looked pretty laden with snow. I put on old boots and went out

and had a slide down the hill, but it was so cold I soon came in to the fire again. I was 11 on July 15, and I received two cakes of scented soap, a handkerchief, a pair of garters, and 2s 3d. Alum made me a marble cake, as I do not like fruit cake, and dad put my name and age with some fancywork- on it with pink icing. For sewing I am knitting a pair of slippers of orange and brown wool. I have finished one of them. For handwork I am making a needle-case. Aly sister is reading a book and nursing her doll. I have just finished reading three Girl Scout books —“ The Girl Scout at Home,” “ The Girl Scouts’ Rally,” and “ The Girl Scout’s Triumph,” and am now reading “Tales from Hans Andersen.” We are milking seven cows just now. As I can’t find any more news I will close, with love to all. — Yours truly, PURPLE PANSY’S ALATE (Romahapa). - [You are one of the “ stay-at-homes,” Purple Pansy's Mate. The snow would be pleasant for those who liked it, but for Little Folk like yourself the fire would be best. You must have had a very happy birthday. Pink icing is delicious on a cake, and tastes much sweeter than white, does it not? You will like Hans Andersen’s tales. Tell me which is your favourite.—DOT.] ¥ ¥ ¥ Dear Dot, —I did enjoy playing in the snow. The trees looked very pretty with their white coats. I was in Dunedin oil July 14 with mum and dad. Alum showed me the Otago Witness office. There is still snow lying about in the gullies wheie the sun cannot reach it. How lovely your spring flowers must have been! My little pussy, Scamper, is growing fast. She loves to sit on the window ledge on sunny days. Love to all the Little Folk and yourself.—Yours truly, JECOAIALT (Romahapa). [I wish you had come up to see me, Jceomalt. Perhaps next time you are in Dunedin you will do so. Of course you enjoyed the snow! Being a healthy boy you could not fail to do so. Aly spring flowers were indeed lovely, and 1 kept them as long as I could. Thank you for the picture of you and Scamper. If Scamper had not been in the shadow I could have printed the snap in the page.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —I was counting the weeks and months since I wrote last, and, dear me, for the moment I thought you would be crossing me off your list, but theu, I remembered that your memory is. very wide, and does not forget the Little Folk who neglect your page. Do you like snow? I do. I think it is such a pretty substance when it is all flaky and soft. I made a snowman the other day, and when I had finished him he did look queer with Ins scarf and hat on. Spring started well this year with a fall of snow. The farmeis who have little lambs did not welcome the snow. I am in Standard VI at school now, and although sometimes I find it a tiny bit hard I just make the best of it. On the whole I find it a rather easy standard, if it was mot for the new kinds of things we have to learn off by heart. Our school garden is looking very desolate just now, but when the daffodils come it will not look so bad. I love flowers. Do you? I ani sure everybody does, and I am longing for the daffodils and hyacinths. Alother has planted 70 bulbs all along the cyclone fence at the side of the house, and we have 90 or more round the house itself. We have three lilies too, and, as we planted them only this year. I am waiting patiently for the day in which they come out. Last year if you had been at Kelso and come up to our place and had a look along the fence in front of the house, a glow of bright colours would have me’, your eye, the flowers being gladioli. AVe have 50 or more gladioli bulbs. I have another wee cousin, whose name is James Alexander. He is a lovely wee baby and hardly ever cries. He is 10 weeks old. I love babies, don't you? Especially the ones with a lot of dark brown curly hair. I am reading a book called “ Six Little New Zealanders.” It really did make me laugh, as it is very funny in parts. It was written by Esther Glen. I love reading, and every week when the Otago Witness comes I am first — to see our page. I think it is a good idea to mention the good letters in your letter “To All.” It encourages us greatly. We play basket ball at school, but this year we are playing badly, as we have not practised enough. Last year we played five games and lost them all, but we are njt disheartened a bit. We have girls and boys in our team, as we have not enough girls. There are only 17 children going to our school. 10 girls and seven boys. We have a little white calf with not a brown or a black hair on her. We call her Snowy. It suits the weather as well as our calf. I will have to close now. with kindest regards to all the Little Folk andvour own dear self. —Yours truly. MUAIAHE’S LOVE (Kelso). [You are right. Aluminie’s Love. I forget none of you. But I confess that sometimes I wonder if some of you have forgotten me. I am very fond of snow, especially when it is dry and feathery! And I love flowers too, so can imagine how pretty your garden must look when it is in its prime. I also love babies, no mati ter what their hair is like. Snowy must , be very picturesque and very unusual. Please stroke her for me.—DOT.] ❖ * ¥

Dear Dot. —May I join your happy band of Little Folk? I shall be 13 years of age on October 16. I walk two miles to school in the morning, but sometimes I nds home. I have four brothers, the oldest

jne being 22 years of age. I also have four sisters, the oldest of whom is 18. We have had some hard frosts and snow falls. We have three cows, two horses, and five dogs. Kindest regards to your Little Folk and your own dear self.-- ' Yours truly, BEPvGERETTE (Arrow Flat).

[You certainly may join, Bergerette. Where are your sheep, and do you carry a crook like 80-l’eep when you are minding them? I should like to see you if you do. You are lucky to have four brothers, because brothers are the dearest people in the world. I have three, so I know what I am saying.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —Have you forgotten me? I have not written to you for a long time. The Monday of the heavy snow I did not go to school. We are milking two cows night and morning. I have two correspondents, one in Gisborne and one in Glenham. I have a pen friend in Coventry. England, and receive some very interesting letters from her. I have just answer cd a correspondent’s letter. We have started our examination at school. Did you have a snow fight with the last snow? I had great fun building a snowman. Would you rather live in the town or the country? I like the country. The days are coming longer now, are they not? Spring is always welcome after the cold winter days. Flowers sprout and grow. Blooms make a pretty picture in the flower garden. I am sitting for my proficiency at the end of the year. As it is bed-time I must close, with love to all. —Yours truly, CUPID ASLEEP (Gore). [No, Cupid Asleep, I have not forgotten you, so do not be distressed. Your correspondents live in interesting places and must send you very readable letters. I had fun with the snow last time it was here, but do not know if I could say that I had a snpw fight. I think I prefer the country to the town; but as my work is in town I do not complain.—DOT.] ¥ ¥ ¥ Dear Dot.—lt is now a long time since 1 wrote my first letter to your page, so 1 am going to try to write again. I havi been trying to make up my mind for a long time. I must not forget to thank you for sending the badge. ■ I like it very much. The winter is now nearly over, and I am pleased, as it has been a very longand hard Jone. We shall be having our second term examination at school shortly. I am hoping to pass. We play basket ball at school, and I enjoy it very much. I have two ferrets and I like to go out rabbiting with them. Well I think I will draw this letter to a close, as there is not much to write about. Love to all the Little Folk and yourself.—Yours truly, MOUNT PISA RANGER (Dunedin). [lt was pleasing to hear from you again, Mount Pisa Ranger, though I am sorry that it took you so long to make up your mind to do so. I am glad you like the badge. It is a dainty little one, is it not? I hope you pass in your examination, and have very happy holidays afterwards. Tel] me about them later.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —Once again I take up my pen and write to you a few lines to keep up to our motto “ We write for the benefit of others, not for ourselves.” We had a very heavy snowfall on July 19. In some places it was over Ift deep. People said it was the heaviest snowfall we have had here for years. The snow made everything look so beautiful. When we first looked out the window in the morning the trees were covered in white mantles, theii* branches were bending down with the weight of the snow, which covered them, and the ground looked so soft and velvety with its coating unmarred by not one footprint. We are having very' changeable weather here just now. and sometimes we have a fine day just like spring weather. What sort of weather are you having in Dunedin? As this is all the news at present. I must close, with love to all the Little Folk and your own dear self. - Yours truly, FAIRY OF THE GOLDEN LILY (Port Molyneux).

[This has been the “snowiest” winter we have had for years, Fairy of the Golden Lily, Everybody seems to agree on that, point. Our weather is good, though naturally very cold. The address you wish to know is Enzo Bonfiglio, 9 Viale Maino, Milan, Italy.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —It has been blowing badly lately, but on Tuesday the wind was at its worst. My brother said that on the road to Kurow three seeded paddocks were blown across the road, and when he was going up at times he could not see even the radiator of the truck, while inside the truck, when he was through, was n quarter of an inch of dust. Six cars were held up in the dust storm, and it was two hours before the wind abated so that they could see their way out. There was almost a continual whirlwind in the paddocks opposite to us. My sister, Charmary, was 19 on August 2, and she received a number of useful presents. I am working a toilet set in pink and green, and after that is finished I am going to -work a butterfly design in crochet. Butterflies are interesting to work, are they' not? One can make them in so many’ different colours, and they always look pretty when finished. My sister is sitting for the Navy League Essay on Captain Cook this month. This year one has to enter for the essay, instead of Standard V and VI sitting for it, as formerly. I have a little kitten now. and I call it Nigpy, as it is nigger brown It is a half-Persian, and if I want to go anywhere without it I have to shut it up inside.- Our dog -was jealous of kitty at the beginning, but they are becoming better friends now. One night they both were sitting at the door together, but still kitty cannot take any liberties with him, for he has not quite grown used to there being another; animal for us to pet. Niggy hides on a post at the gate, and when I come in he pats me with a paw and then draws back out of sight. He has caught one mouse as far as I know, but he is not very’ old yet. We have two new records called “When It’s Moonlight on the Silvery Rio Grande ” and “ Lily of Laguna ” and “ When It’s Springtime in the Rockies” and “Good-bye to All That.” Of the four the first one, “When It’s Moonlight on the Silvery Rio Grande,” is our favourite, with “Springtime in the Rockies ” next. Have you heard any of them? Most of my bulbs are up now, and my sister has a snowdrop out in her garden, while mum has a crocus out in hers, I have a flag lily garden, and in it

there are blue, white, bronze, and yellow flag lilies. Love to the Little Folk and especially your own dear self.—Yours truly, NIPPER’S MISTRESS (Otekaieke). x [What a terrific wind, Nipper’s Mistress! It must have been extreyaely destructive and caused a great deal of damage. I hope that it was not responsible for too much loss. Mt was charming to read of your nigger-brown kitten, which I am sure is a darling, especially when it pats you and then pretends to hide. I have not heard records, though 1 have heard of them. How beautiful your flag lilies must be!—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —We have had four falls of snow this year. When we had the third fall we had our photographs taken. You asked me to tell you all about the “ Magic Island ” next time I wrote. There were two children whose names were Tom and Lucy, and .their mother was dead. Their father was the captain of a ship called the Nancy Ann, which was going to Florida for fruit. Tom and Lucy were stowed away in her, but she was wrecked, and Toni and Lucy were washed on to an island. There was another girl on the island. Her name was Vida, and her brother was an an other island, so Lucy stayed with her. One night Tom heard a noise, and when he went down on the beach he saw his father and some of the men who were working on the Nancy Ann. They said that the Nancy Ann would be ready for them the next day, so they went home a few days after. I must not forget to tell that the island on which Tom and Lucy were stranded was a magic island. I suppose that is why the book was called “ The Magic Island.” I have read another book called “ The Rebellion of the Upper Fifth.” It was about a woman who was only 21 and who was a teacher. Her name was Miss Darling. When she went away another teacher came called Miss Veron, but the girls did not like her after having Miss Darling, although Miss Darling had not taught them enough, ’ as she was only a little bigger than they were themselves. Before she went away the teachers wanted her to teach some other class, but she would not. The girls called Miss Veron “ Upsur,” because they did not like her. A girl named Mariol was captain of the upper fifth. Whichever class between the best received a cup, which if won three times was able to be kept. Once the girls had a race making vests for babies, and the lower sixth got two holidays. So the upper „fifth arose one night and went into Mariol’s dormitory, called “ the Nightingale dormitory.” and began knitting. When they were knitting they heard Miss Veron coming, but they could not hide, so she caught them. She did not scold them, however, but asked them why they were knitting at bedtime, and they said that the lower sixth was getting two days’ holiday, and they’ (the upper fifth) wanted extra time, too, in which to knit, and this was how they were making it. Anyway, they received 100 marks and got the cup. I will close now, with love to all the Little Folk and your own dear self. —Yours truly, MUSICAL MACK (Stewart Island). [Thank you very much for your careful description of the book, Musical Mack. They both sound very interesting, and must have given you several happy hours while you read them. I hope the photographs were a success, and that you all look pretty in them as you stand in the snow. The warm weather will soon be here. —DOT.] OUR NEW MEMBERS. Dot extends a special welcome to the following Little Folk who.,have written to thc’page for the first time this week: — C. D. M. (Milburn). Milburn Rose (Milburn). A Penny Stamp (Arrowtown). Mitzi Green (Southland). Bergerette (Arrow Flat). MANY HAPPY RETURNS. Dot wishes many happy returns of the day to — Purple Pansy’s Mate, who was 11 on July 15. Charmary. who was 19 on August 2. Twinkle Till, who was 10 on August 10.Falling Peach, who will be 14 on August 18. Golden Dewdrop, who will be 13 on August IS. NOTES TO OLD WRITERS. All Old Writers. —A Little Folk—Heroine of Brookleigh—writes to tell me that she intends going to Alexandra for a holiday in the near future, and wishes to know the addresses of some of the Old Writers, as she does not know anybody in that district. If some of you would give me your addresses I could let Heroine of Brookleigh have them. She would then write to you. —DOT.] AUTOS. As the Little Folk inserting the following autos do not know the addresses of the companions with whom they wish to correspond, it is necessary that those' whose names are mentioned in the autos should send the first letter. —DOT. ¥ ¥ ¥ Mother’s Right Hand Girl (Helen Waddell, Mossburn, Southland) would like to correspond with Heather Queen. ¥ ¥ ¥ A Flower Girl (Olga M. Keown, Longridge North, Balfour. Southland) wishes to correspond with L’Oiseau de France, A Lass Frae Auld Ayr, Happy Mairi, and Janet from Skye. ¥ ¥ ¥ A Bunch of Cherries (Helen M'Cafl, Hunter Valley, Hawea Flat, Otago) wishes to correspond with Sporting Maid. ¥ ¥ ¥ Mummie’s Love (Miss Irma Jenkin*. Meadow Bank, Kelso, Otago) wishes to correspond with any Little Folk between 13 and 14 -years of age, and wishes them to write as soon as possible. ¥ ¥ ¥ Fairy of the Golden Lily (Eileen Scott. Port Molyneux) wishes to correspond with Nobody’s Darling and 0. K. Baby.

reducing the charge to manslaughter. Mrs Johnson was perfectly entitled to terminate the acquaintanceship. It was an ordinary case, which was not infrequent, of an infatuated man inflamed by jealousy, who, rather than accept dismissal by a woman, would sacrifice her and himself. Queenie Rose Lowrence, aged 17, whose right arm is still in a sling, then gave evidence. Cross-examined, she said her mother and the accused w’ere not very much in love. Mrs Lucy Keesing, with whom the deceased and her daughter lived, said it seemed to her that Rameka was a friend of the family and interested in them all. Mr Noble: A pretty close friend? “No more than an ordinary man; it was just pure friendship,” said the witness. In reply to a further question with reference to her experience of men witness said: “I have had no experience of men. I have had only one husband, and from what I see of men I do not want any more.”

Asked whether she had tried to stop Rameka from poisoning himself, witness said: “If a man wants to poison himself let him do it by all means. I would not stop any man.”

DEFENCE PLEADS INSANITY. AUCKLAND, August 4. The trial was continued to-day. Two doctors said the wounds in the woman’s body suggested they were the work of a man in a frenzy. The accused’s movements and his remarks after the tragedy were described by several witnesses on the lines of the evidence given in the lower court. Mrs Kura Murphy (his cousin) said that before he collapsed from the effects of poison he gave her a letter for hie father, saying: “My girl has turned me down after I gave her £24 and my last £7.” He also said that it was the end of his life, and “I have kille'cl someone.”

Cross-examined, witness said that Rameka was one of 17 children, only two oi whom were alive. She had heard that a relative of the accused in Taranaki had killed a girl with a lawn tennis racket, and that another relative in the north of Auckland had committed a serious offence. The interpreter said the accused, in the letter to his father, said that he was tired of life, and made requests concerning the disposition of his body. The case was described as a rather extraordinary one by Mr Noble, in opening the defence. The fact that the accused had killed the woman could not be disputed. “ You have an eye-witness," said counsel, “ but it does not follow that the accused is guilty of the crime of murder.” It was the reason of a man which made him accountable for his actions, said counsel, and the deprivation of reason acquitted him of a crime. If a man was provoked into a sudden frenzy so that he lost all self-control, then the jury would be justified in finding him guilty of manslaughter only. The evidence was that the woman had been hacked about in a maniacal fury. When the accused was 15| years old he went to the war in France, and there, in two and a-half years’ service, he had his health permanently injured. Ever since then he had been in and out of hospital. “This man and this unhappy woman,” continued Mr Noble, “were the closest lovers. He did not know that she was married until after the tragedy.” Evi denee would be called to show that there was talk of marriage between them. Then, without any warning, there came sudden disillusionment and the accused’s dreams of love and happiness came clattering about his ears. The treatment that Rameka received had so worked on his mind that he was practically driven to a state, of delirium. He told the woman that he was going to kill himself, and she replied: “Go away, you nigger. We do not want to have anything more to do with you.” If there was one thing more than another that the Maoris were proud of, said Mr Noble, it was that they were not “ niggers.” To them that name was an unpardonable insult Rameka went into a frenzy and he remembered nothing more about it until, in the Auckland Hospital, he was charged with murder. He certainly did not know the nature and quality of his act. nor that what he was doing was wrong. A second ground of defence was that by a sudden insult the accused was ■so provoked that he lost control of himself Several witnesses gave evidence that on occasions the. accused acted strangely. A fellow-worker said he seemed “a bit queer.”

HEARING OF EVIDENCE CONCLUDED. AUCKLAND. August 5. The hearing of evidence in the defence of George Rameka was continued to-day. Manene Brown, a Maori ganger, said that the deceased had come to his lodgings with Rameka, and he often went to her flat. They seemed to behave “like man and wife.” He saw Rameka give her £24. his winnings at the races. An ambulance driver, who took Rameka to the hospital, said his symptoms were similar to the after effects of an epileptic fit. George Graham, an authority on the Maori race, said they’ were very jealous of their racial pedigree. A Maori who was called a “ nigger ” would receive a mental shock and would “ see dark,” which was equivalent to a European “ seeing red.” The accused Rameka then gave evidence through an interpreter. He said he had had three sisters and 13 brothers. Only he and one sister were now alive. A first cousin of his had killed her baby. Another cousin at Waitara had killed her adopted child. He went to the war at the age of 15, and was there for over two years. He said at the wa r he was digging trenches and also looking after wire entanglements in No Man’s Land. He was gassed at Messines, and when he returned to New Zealand he received hospital treatment for war wounds. Sometimes he suffered from depression, which seemed to darken his outlook. He knew the deceased as Miss Driscoll. She told him that she was a well-to-do woman from England, that she came from Wellington, and was engaged while there. The first night he met her she told him that Mrs Keesing (her landlady) was her aunt. After he and she had been together for a while he loved her, and she responded. When he gave her £24 it was arranged that the fact should not be made known to her family. She told him she was waiting for money from her family’s estate in Wellington, and would repay him in three months. '’*<■

The accused said he used to visit Mis Johnson every night when she was sick. Sometimes he stayed until 1 o’clock. He had often been alone with her for periods up to two hours. He went to the Ellershe races and ’ the Epsom trots with Mrs "Johnson and her daughter as her “ tana ” (unmarried husband). The beginning of the trouble between them was at the trots, when she asked him to get a taxi. He told her he was broke. She said that “ all the lovers she had had anything t > do with had always taken her home in comfort." The next day, in a fit of depression, he bought poison, contemplating suicide. That night she told him she did not want him any more. He asked “ Why ? " and she said because he showed her up at the trots. He was “ full of jealousy and temper,” and threatened

suicide. She said she did not care, and anyway he would not be game. Then the thought of his child came to him> and he decided to defer the act-. The accused said that next morning he bought a knife because he thought the poison might not be enough to take hie life. He intended to take the poison in Mrs Johnson’s presence to prove to het that he was game enough to commit sui-' eide. He drank some poison before he opened the door of her room. His throat and stomach were burning. Then, speaking in good English, the a<“ cused said: “ She looked at me and said to me, ‘ What do you want here, you black nigger? ’ At that instant I did not know what I was doing. I just simply’ went oft my head. That is all.”

Examined by Mr Meredith (Crown Prosecutor), the accused said that aftef he first met Mrs Johnson he used to see her every night. He did not know now strong the poison was nor how many people the contents of the bottle he bought would kill. He thought of vhe knife after he had reached home on the night before the tragedy. If the poison was not sufficient, he intended to etan himself with the knife in the taxicab. He drank part of the poison at Mrs Keesing s, outside Mrs Johnson’s door, fully intending to drink the rest after he had had it out with her. Mrs Johnson was awake when he went into her room, and she spoke first. He did not remember seeing the knife after he had put it in his pocket at the door. He did not remember driving back to Hepburn street or the other incidents which the witnesses had sworn to. He did not remember anything from the time he was at Mrs Johnson’s door till he was in hospital. Dr R. M. Beattie, who for 29 years was in charge of the Auckland Mental Hos pital, said he had formed the conclusion that there was a probability of a minor epileptic condition in the accused. W.tness had gained the impression that there was a certain amount of mental instability’. He .found Maoris, as a rule, emotional and intensely sensitive. “ I regard this man as of unstable mental condition,” continued witness. “For years he has been suffering from strange sensations in his head, with attacks of giddiness and disturbance of his eyes. The man had been suffering from abnormal depression, and was actively suicidal when he went into the room where, the deceased was. The depression became intense, and lie was suffering from a burning pain in the mouth, throat, and stomach from the poison he had taken. He was called by a name that all Maoris resent, and he got into an irresponsible maniacal condition. If he was in such a maniacal state, he could not know the nature and the quality of his act.” This closed the case for the defence. The Crown then called Dr H. M. Buchanan, superintendent of the Auckland Mental Hospital, who said that Rameka had not given him any symptoms of . loss of memory or giddiness. In Lis opinion, there was no justification for the theory that the accused was epileptic. He did not think Rameka had the loss of memory at the time of the tragedy he claimed to have. In witness’s opinion the act in the bedroom was a conscious act. Corroborative evidence was given by other mental experts.

A VERDICT OF GUILTY RAMEKA SENTENCED TO DEATH. AUCKLAND, August 6. . The trial was concluded to-day. This morning Mr W. Noble, for the prisoner, and Mr V. R. Meredith (Crown Prosecutor) addressed the jury’, and Mr Justice Smith delivered his summing up. He told the jury that no distinction was to be drawn between Maoris and ■ Europeans regarding the standard ot conduct required when an insult was offered that was sufficient to deprive a person of self-control. So far as punishment was concerned, that was a matter in which racial considerations might be taken into account. A vital part of the case' was whether the accused or the deceased’s daughter, who was the only eye-witness, was telling the truth about what happened in the bedroom. Was a taunt ever made to provoke the accused? Had he taken any poison before he entered the room, or did he take the bottle out of his pocket after he went in? Did he take the knife from his pocket inside the roojn? The jury’, after a short retirement, brought in a verdict of guilty, and sentence of death was pronounced by Mr Justice Smith. The tense silence of the court as the foreman announced the verdict was broken by’ shrill cries of sympathy- from the women in the gallery, but the outburst was instantly suppressed. The prisoner heard the dread sentence without apparent emotion. The verdict was “ Guilty of murder, with a strong recommendation to mercy.” Asked if he had anything to say, Rameka made mo response. His Honor, adjusting his black cap. then addressed prisoner. “ You have had the benefit of an exhaustive and careful and evereloquent defence, but the jury’s verdict of guilty of murder is the only verdict which it could, in my judgment, properly find. Clearly you did not establish that you were insane at the time you committed the offence, and equally clearly in my judgment y r ou were not entitled to any’ reduction of the crime from murder to manslaughter on the ground of provocation. I have to tell you that the jury’s recommendation will be forwarded to the proper quarter.” His Honor than passed the sentence of death. Prisoner having been removed, his Honor addressed a few words to the ' jury. “ Your verdict .of guilty of murder was, I am satisfied, the only verdict which you could possibly find.”