LITTLE SOUTHLANDERS

Southland Times, Issue 19458, 24 January 1925, Page 16

LITTLE SOUTHLANDERS

A PAGE FOR THE CHILDREN

Conducted by

Cousin Betty.

COUSIN BETTY’S LETTER. My Dear Cousins,— When I opened my paper on Saturday morning and saw my letter in print, I did get a fright, What a lot of patience you must have had to read right through it all, as most of you must have done, judging by your letters. I told you I had written a lot, but I was startled when I saw how much it really was. We must never have any doubts about the printer-man again, my Cousins; he gave us such a lot of space. It was good of him to let us continue on another page, but we must not make a habit of it. That would be imposing on his kindness. About the Sewing Clan. You have justified my faith in you. I have never had so many letters as this week, and I am quite sure every second one was from a Cousin wishing to join the sewing clan. A great many of you want patterns sent out, and this I shall do as soon as possible, which will probably be in another week. Some of you are in doubt as to the best material to use. I think that as long as they are not merely ornamental, of too flimsy and thin a stuff for aqy warmth at all, you may be quite at liberty to choose your own. Don’t you think it would be more pleasing to the little ones if the colours are not too dull? We all love bright things, I know, and the little sufferers in the hospital will be no exception. A black, or very dark brown or grey, is not very cheerful, is it? I was delighted to discover a boy cousin who wished to join. That shows a very sporting spirit on his part—a more timid boy, who perhaps knows that he also can ■ew quite well, might hesitate. But that is not what we want. The Sewing Clan is not going to do nothing but work, by any means, and boys will enjoy the fun equally as well as girls. Don’t you think so, boys’ I have been taking down your names as they have reached me—next week I shall publish them, and you will know who is in your clan. Whenever you like you may write to me and tell me any sewing hints you think the others may like to know. You may tell me about the jacket’s progress, or any little difficulty you have encountered. All these things will interest me, and let me know you are interested, too. The Handiwork Clan should devote itself at present to making scrap books. How many of you can do thia? Some Cousins have perhaps made them at school, and most have seen them. You make a large book out of brown paper, and paste in all sorts of coloured pictures You all have magazines and papers and old books at home with coloured illustrations in them, haven’t you? What you have to do is to cut these cut and paste them neatly in your book. You can be collecting all the time, and in about July or August I shall call for them to be sent in and they will be judged and prizes awarded. So start right away, and collect coloured advertisements and pictures from your friends. They will all be willing to help you when they hear what they are for. And whenever you are pasting anything in, think of the little child in hospital, whose eye will gladen when he sees it. Both these clans are for helping others; but the Stamp Clan is for helping each other. So many boys and girls have made stamp-collecting their hobby that there must be some young Southlanders amongst them. If you have a stamp which you cannot place, send it to me and I shall do my best to enlighten you. You may exchange stamps with other cousins, and tell them about any interesting “discoveries” you have made. So you will all be helping one another. Next week will see us with the clans well started, and I am sure you, are going to enjoy your membership. Don’t forget about Captain Kindheart’s Army, either—there is no reason why every young Southlander shouldn’t be a soldier. The Captain is doing very noble work. I am determined not to take up too much room this week, so if there’s anything I have omitted just write and ask me about it. Your holidays are drawing to a close, so make the most of t-hem. I Your affectionate, COUSIN BETTY. ORIGINAL VERSE. What a lot of poetesses we are discovering amongst us, aren’t we? But do you notice that I have to say “poetesses,” which means “lady poets?” We haven’t found any Little Southlander poets yet; I wonder why. Perhaps you young poets are shy, or—surely you wouldn’t let me even whisper it—perhaps you are not as clever as the the girls! I was sorry Cousin Clara Buckingham’s name was omitted from her little poem “Flowers” last week. It was something to be proud to have her name against; but I wouldn’t blame the printer-man for anything, after he gave us so much room last week. I was wondering whether I shouldn’t keep a poem for next week, in case no other comes, but I am trusting to you to keep me supplied, and so I put them all in. They are very good, the whole four, I think, especially the “Beautiful Island.” But I shall let you judge for yourself. NUTKIN THE PIXIE. Nut kin was a pixie bold, Always up to tricks. He never did as he was told, Was ever in a fix. Setting tacks for cyclists; This fun, he thought, was great. Of things he did he made long lists. Which mounted up at quite a rate. Spoiling everybody’s plans, Making little children tumble. Other pixies worked in clans, No so Master Nut kin Trumble. One day all his tricks went wrong: Just as he had fixed a tack, A motor car came right along And threw young Nutkin on his back. » • » * Nutkin Trumble earned great fame; Every pixie loved his name. Ne’er again was he to blame, But he was loved where’er he came, —4 marks to Cousin Patricia Ward (12), West Plains. BEAUTIFUL ISLAND. I know a beautiful island shore. Where shells keep piling more and more This island is a happy place, Where man has never left his trace. Old trees there offer kindly shelter, When raindrops tumble helter-skelter; But this is just a dreamland isle, That on my pillow makes me smile. 4 marks to Cousin Lorna Campbell (10), Northend. THE LITTLE SPINNER. J stood one evening watching, A spider weave web, To catch the little insects, ' When we’re asleep in bed. He wove it very carefully, Backwards, forwards, through. I thought him very clever, Now don’t you, too? • He hung out there in the darkne-s. In the silent watches of night, To catch unwary insects, While they were on their flight. —4 marks to Cousin Elsie Amos (11), Mabel Bush. THE APPLE-TREE She lives in Fairyland, I know, That beautiful fairy with hair of gold; There’s where you have no rain or snow, And in the winter-time not the least bit of coh. For oft’ when I lay in my bed at night, I dreamt the fairy had taken my hand. And when I awoke in the clear daylight, I had seen the whole of Fairyland. —A marks io Cousin Mary Gregory (12), Invercargill

THE COUSINS’ COMPETITION. AWARDS IN THE FIFTH TEST. (a) Original story about a boot, of not more than 300 words. First (5/-)—Cousin Esther Ellis (14) 4 marks; second (2/6) —Cousin Annie Playfair (14)—3 nfarks. Highly commended —Cousin Arnot Broadbent (9) —2 marks; Cousin Mavis McKenzie (13) —2 marks; Cousin Ruth Jaquiery (13) —2 marks; Cousin Mary Gregory (12) —2 marks; Cousin Mavis McEwan (13) —1 mark; Cousin Millicent Broadbent (13) —2 marks. One mark to Cousins Ruby McEwan, Peggy Griffiths, Alison Allen, Harriet Buckingham and Elsie Crosbie. (b) Freehand drawing of a tree. First (5/-) —Cousin Wallace Bickley (8) —4 marks; second (2/6) —Cousin Eileen Milmine (14) —3 marks. Highly commended: Cousin Daisy Ward (14) —2 marks; Cousin Alfred Stewart (12)—2 marks; Cousin Charles Grey (10) —2 marks; Cousin Harriet Buckingham (12) —1 mark. GOOD WRITERS. Cousin Mavis McKenzie (13) —2 marks; Cousin Mavis McEwan (13), 1 mark; Cousin Sheila Wilkinson (11), 2 marks; Cousin Ruby McEwan (14), 2 marks; Cousin Emma Kellahan (13), 2 marks; Cousin Eileen Milmine (14), 1 mark; Cousin Algernon Sutton (13), 1 mark. THE SIXTH COMPETITION. Already I have a large number of entries for this, so please send your’s in as soon as possible. I cannot possibly judge late contributions. (a) Original verse about the sea-shpre. (b) Original story about “The Cow and the Chicken,” of not more than 400 words. Remember the closing date is Tuesday, January 27, 1925. THE SEVENTH COMPETITION. (a) Original letter telling me about the i greatest adventure which has befallen you. (b) Original story about a little cloud. Remember the rules:— 1— Write in ink on one side of the paper only. 2 There must be separate sheets for each Competition. !3—Each Cousin must work unaided, and enter his or her own work. 4 Drawings must be in black ink and preferably in Indian ink. 5 Each entry must show the*, name and address of the Cousin and the age. 6 No one more than 16 years of age may compete in these classes. 7 Address all entries to Cousin Betty,” at the Southland Times Office. The prizes are: First, 5/-; second. 2/6 ; i in each class. The Competition closes on Tuesday, February 3, 1925. All entries must be in on or before this date. —Cousin Betty. More and more entries this week, Cousins, and harder and harder for your Betty to judge. I do not think the standard is as high as last week, do you ? But still it was a much harder subject, and you can’t use such pretty words about a boot (which, after all, is an ugly old thing), as you can about a dainty little apple-tree fairy. You have done passably well, however, and I am not grumbling. _ j You will notice the two who gained prizes are the ones who put most imagination into their stories. Now, I know everyone of you has heaps and heaps of imagination ; the trouble is that a great many young people are afraid to use it too freely. This is a very silly idea indeed, Cousins mine, and one you mustn’t think of for a moment. Imagination is a glorious thing, and you must learn to let it have full play. That is, when you are writing stories of course. It is a dreadful thing to let it run away with you when you are speaking —we call that “telling stories” or “lies,” which are horrible things. There had to be a great many “commendeds” this week, as they were nearly all of the same standard. The two winning ones are a little better than the rest, from which it would be hard to select one before another. One quite clever little cousin made her boot sneeze, and later run away with a hat! I think I liked her story best of all, although I had to be content with giving her only one mark, as, who ever heard of a boot doing that? That is what I call “letting your imagination run away with you.” The drawing standard was very high, however, even as high as it has been in the past. In fact, I think most of you have taken more pains to be neat and accurate, which pleases me very much. It is quite the hardest drawing I have set you, so the winners have reason to be proud. I am particularly pleased with Cousin Wallace’s work —it shows a great improvement on his former attempts, and is very creditable for a boy of 8 years. The Mindsharpeners seem very popular, with Cousin Harriet leading so far. The next test will decide who wins the prize for the month. Be sure and have your entries in up to time, because it is utterly impossible for me to get them judged in time, otherwise. —Cousin Betty. BETWEEN OURSELVES. Cousin Algernon: “Good luck to all Southlanders” is what we all wish, Algernon. If all the Cousins are as keen as you, 1 think there will be nothing to hinder our progress. Cousin Alfred: You and "Cousin Moreton are sure to be great pals. The Meccano Corner must be very interesting to you clever boys, but I am afraid I couldn’t understand very much about it. You are a very thoughtful little boy. Cousin Daisy: You have a very clever brother, dear. Are you going to do as well? I think you will be a very useful member of the sewing clan. Auntie is a very wise adviser, Daisy. Cousin Oswald: I am delighted to think a boy Cousin is a member of the Sewing Clan. We will just see who can sew the best—boys or girls. Have you done much sewing? Cousin Betty: It was good of you to copy out Peggy’s story for her. I think you must be a good sewer. Cousin Eileen: We are glad to have such a neat writer and splendid drawer amongst our Cousins. Tell me about your home. Cousin Susan: So you would like to draw like the Cousin who drew the fish? We shall have to see about getting her to write to you—l think you would be friends. Let me see your own drawing, dear. You write nicely, you know. Cousin Mary: Aren’t you going to tell me what you are doing to have such a glorious holiday, dear? I love being in on open motor, too, ilttle Cousin. Where is Wrey’s Bush?

Cousin Joy: Your writing has improved very much, which shows you have been trying. My dear—once you are a Cousin you are always a Cousin, no matter where you may go. Don’t worry; Christchurch is a lovely town, and you will love it. You are very lucky to be going to High School there. You will be able to write us very interesting letters, dear. Cousin Ruth: Your drawing must not be traced, but you are not forbidden to copy a print. I like better to have one out of your very own heads. Drawing paper is not essential. Your motto “’Tis better to have tried and failed than never to have tried at all,” is good. Live up to it, Young Southlander. Cousin Rainbow: iour riddle came in after I had written my comments, dear, and was not good enough for a prise, do you think? You must try again, however. You have a splendid imagination, Millicent. Cousin Frank: I am looking forward to your next letter, Frank. We will use them if they arc as good as I think they will be. Cousin Sunflower: I have been thinking these destructive gales lately will have ruined your asters, Sunflower. I hope they are well sheltered. Cousin Louis: I shall look forward to your contributions, Louis. Cousin Annie: My dear, I could not tire of reading letters from my Cousins, whose numbers I shall never think too large. Y’ou have a very pretty summer crib, dear. Cousin Fredric: I was beginning to think you were not going to write any more, Fredric. Your work has improved very much. If you keep on, I shall not be surprized when you win a prize. Will you be able to build a coal-house and cart-shed of manuka all by yourself? The parcel from Australia was a lovely surprise. Cousin Ruby: The hands of the clock invariably go round quickly when we are young. When they stop doing that, we are growing old. So don’t wish that, dear. Cousin Snowdrop: Your motto, “Look up and aim high,” is a good one to carry with you all through life, dear. Otatara is a delightful place to camp—-you have still something to look forward to, you see. Cousin Pansy: Your big Cousin is always pleased to find another little Cousin. How are you spending your holidays, Pansy? Cousin Mavis: You have made a good beginning, dear, So I think the “pleasanter” letter you are going to send me will be a very “pleasant” one indeed. Cousin Happiness: To save me trouble you must put your name and age on every entry, Happiness. What do you call your twtpittie kittens, and what colour are they? What dear, mischievous things kitties are, aren’t they; or do you like Tax better? You wall find the sewing clan very jolly, I think. Cousin Meadowsweet: I should have been disappointed had I not received your long letter, dear. You did go to lots of places in your holidays. Perhaps next year you will be able to bathe—that would be something to which to look forward. You will often find in real life, Meadowsweet, that when you are most trying to please someone you love, something goes wrong. That is one of the things over which one has to “Smile, smile, smile.” It is very good of you, dear, to suggest that, seeing you can’t sew very well, you will save your prize money for the little hospital children. But don’t think you could try to sew, and do your best ? That would be much more valuable, seeing that your own patience and time would be woven in it. Cousin Jean: I wonder if I have seen you, Jean. Thank you very much for the quaint little book-mark. I shall think of a loving little Cousin when I use it. Cousin Mary: I should think you would be glad, dear. As the Dunedin trip is postponed till Easter, what a pleasant holiday you can look forward to till then. You should be glad to have such a mother, Mary —you are a lucky little Cousin. Any material you like, dear, only not too thin, as the jacket is mainly for warmth, and a. nice, bright colour would be best—it looks so cheery and would please the little people. Cousin Minnehaha: You say you have thirty-one cows to milk by hand, but only twenty-one calves to feed! I think that is a great amount, dear. I should like to accompany you when you feed the sixteen chickens. “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try again,” is an excellent New Year motto. Cousin White Violet: Y’ou should be able to make a lovely jacket out of two yards of crepe cloth, dear. Thank you for the verses—they contain very clever ideas, White Violet. You must not grow lazy and stop there—remember what, you can do once, you can do again. I shall wait to see some more soon. Cousin Meadowsweet: I have just received your letter, dear, with the verses, and was so pleased with the latter that I thought I’d add a little note here. You have extremely good ideas; but the fault I have to find is with your spelling. It is not good, dear, and you must be more careful, or you will completely spoil the effect of your splendid verses. A poet must be able to spell, you know. ENROLMENTS. The following enrolments have been added:— The following enrolments have been been added:— Cousin Ruth Jaquiery, 13 years, Invercargill. Cousin Eileen Milmine, 14 years, Ermedale. Cousin Algernon Sutton, 13 years, Invercargill. Cousin Mavis McEwan, 13 years, Invercargill. Cousin May Simpson, 12 years, Invercargill. Cousin Ruby McEwan, 14 years, gillCousin Louis P. Coombes, 11 years, Fairfax. Cousin Daisy Stewart, 8 years, Invercargill. Cousin Oswald Phillips, 11 years, Tuataper e. Cousin Peggy Griffiths, 10 years, Invercargill. Cousin Susan McCall, 12 years, Seaward Downs. Cousin Arnot Broadbent, 9 years, Invercargill. Cousin Mavis McKenzie, 13 years, Clifton. Little Southlanders are again reminded that they cannot become cousins till they have sent in their ages and addresses. MECCANO CORNER. EDUCATION BY MECCANO. Most fellows have read the famous statement “Meccano is more than a toy.” It is perfectly true. Meccano has caused thousands of boys to take up engineering as a career. It has shown them that they have a real liking for it. Even to those who have only a small interest in the subject, it teaches something, and every well educated person must know a little about engineering nowadays. Apart from this it teaches several valuable lessons. First—tidiness. It »- ex-

pensive to be untidy with Meccano. Second, [ perseverance and patience. Time and again i things go wrong—parts refuse to fit properly, gears refuse to run. Then is the ‘ time to persevere. Then, third, it teaches ! you to control yourself. When you have ! wrestled for ten solid minutes with an : awkward nut or a badly fitting strip, and i at the end remain unruffled, why, you can | reasonably say you are master of your { temper. “From four to seventy is the correct age.” From four to twelve, you build just to play with, the models. From twelve to sixteen you build for the sake of building. From sixteen to seventy you build as an engineer builds, take into account the forces, try out your ideas, use them if they prove successful. You no longer play with Meccano, you work with Meccano. MIND SHARPENERS. RESULTS OF SECOND EFFORTS. The following are the answers to last week’s sharpeners:— WHATS AND WHY? 1— The difference between a horse and a pencil is that one can be driven, but the other must be (lead). 2 A man with two eyes cannot see the ! other eye with one. 3 Cannot hold your breath for five minutes. 4 Thanks is never lent but often returned. 5 He hasn’t the time. MAGIC SENTENCES. The following kitchen articles were hidden:—(l) Rice, (2) Sago, (3) Mustard, (4) Salt, (5) Raisin, (6) Dish, (7) Cocoa, (8) Jam, (9) Pepper, (10) Plate. SOME MEDICINE! When the jolly Doctor prescribed for his patient the following:— , 100 0 500 50 15 ER OI 50. !he meant COD LIVER OIL, since C Roman letter for 100, D—soo. and L—so. (5 marks for correct answer.) The following are the marks gained by the Cousins in this test:—Harriet Buckingham 18; Mary Richards 11; Bella Andrews 18; Elsie Amos 1; Sheila Wilkinson 9; Myra Wilkinson 11; Isabel Hayward 10; Winnie Scully 11; Reta Jackson 13; Mary Gilbert 4; Patricia Ward 15; Mabel' Chapman 9; Alicia Hanning 10; George ; Weeds 10; Susan McCall 12; Alfred Stewart 1 12; Fredric Louden 1; Gofdon Stewart 6; * Russel Brown 12; Ruth Jaquiery 4; Emma Kellahan 13; Isabel Helm 11. THE NEXT SHARPENERS. WHATS AND WHYS? 1 — From what word of five letters could you take away two and leave one? 2 What fields can never see the sunlight? 3 Why is it that a little pig that is always straying should be called “Ink?” 4 Wash my face, I am everybody; scratch my back, I am nobody. 5 When is a chair treated spitefully? WORD JUMPING. Here is a competition we have not tried { before. See what you can make of it. You take the given word, and by altering one letter at a time change it to its opposite in as few words (they must be real words) as possible. For example, if you are asked , to change “life” to “dead” you would pro- ! ceed something like this: Life, wife, wire, | were, here, herd, head, dead. The fewer ‘ words (they must be real words) the better . Now, then, change—(l) Sire to Dame; (2) ; Tame to Wild; (3) Girl to Wife; (4) Sick to Well; (5) Slow to Fast. HOW MANY CATS WERE THERE? In a four-cornered room a cat sat in each corner, each cat was facing a cat, and each cat was sitting on a cat’s tail. Do you know how many cats were in the room ? All answers are to be in by Tuesday, February 3, when the‘totals for the month will be made and prizes awarded. WEEK’S BEST LETTERS. Dear Cousin Betty,—l am writing now as I shall have to go to the station for the paper which was not thrown off the train. Would you please put my name in the sewing book and send me the pattern off a dressing jacket as we have none at home? I have about two yards of crepe at home and do you think I could make one out of it? I am going to send you four verses I made up when I sprained my ankle three or four months ago. I cannot compete for competitions this week as mother is away for a holiday and I am keeping house. Isn’t that a pretty little poem that was in our last page. —Your loving Cousin, White Violet. Dear Cousin Betty,—l am so pleased at winning the first prize for Father Christmas. Mum and Auntie were delighted. I just love drawing and I have a large Meccano set with a box especially made for it, so I shall study the Meccano Corner and I hope Cousin Moreton and I will be great friends. I have tried some of the mind sharpeners. I could not understand the medicine one but I think I have managed the magic sentences. I do hope Dear Cousin Betty that none of us get tireu ot our page. I don’t think I will because both Meccano and drawing is what I mostly like. I never get tired of. them and I hope all the other Cousins will agree that you will enrol the little Christchurch boy, but it will mean if you enrol one you have to let others join and it may be too much for you. I must stop now wishing you and all my Cousins a happy year. Cousin Alfred Stewart. —A Happy Old Age.— I was once a nice, new, shiny boot placed for show in one of the leading boot-shop windows. One day just as I was growing tired of my glassed-in-home a big fat, stylish man walked into the shop, and veny politely ask- • ed for a pair of boots. As he could not I find any suitable he - walked out of the j shop. On walking out he happened to look into the window and, lo! he went back into the shop and asked if he could try me on. I suited him to perfection so he took me home with him. When I reached home everyone thought that the man had made a good bargain in getting me. I was worn for about three months and then my master threw me out on to an old rubbish heap. There I lay sad and miserable for three weeks. The next day my old master’s son was getting married and, before I knew where 1 was, I felt myself being pulled along behind a glorious taxi. I was put there in order to bring good luck to the newly-wedded; couple for their future life. I am now lying in an old pond, being en- [ tertained by Mr Frog and family each ■ day. —2 marks to-Cousin Mary Gregory (12), ' Invercargill. —A Tale from The Deep.— Just now I feel quite lonely, so I think I shall tell you the story of my life. About two years ago, I was a piece of leather in the workroom of a bootmaker’s ' shop. First of all, I was cut into the shape like the side of a boot. A sole was then cut, and, after a great deal of sewing, I found myself nearly finished. About two hours later, I was completed, and felt very , proud of I looked in a mirror I near by. How the people looked at me, but 11 did not like them, because I heard them 1 remark that -I was too dear. Soon a kind-looking gentleman, who had I an artificial leg, bought me. After taking me home he tried me on, and I fitted him beautifully. As my owner was leaving for England on the following morning, I was packed in a small wooden box. The steamer sailed at four o’clock the next morning. At first, all went well, but after two days’ sailing, the news was spread that the steamer was sinking. My owner, who was hurrying to get on the lifeboat, let me fall into the water, and I sunk to the bottom, where I am to this very day.

2 marks to Cousin Mavis McEwan (13), Invercargill

RIDDLES.

1— Why is a fisherman like a minister on board a boat? Because he preys on the deep. (Prays). —Cousin Elsie Amos. 2 What is it that travels very fast, yet only goes on one foot? A sewing machine.—Cousin Elsie Amos. 3 Everything in the world has it, and so has a needle. A name.—Cousin Sheila Wilkinson. Two marks have been given to each of the Cousins who invented these riddles. SOMETHING FUNNY. HIGHLY COMMENDED. Dear Cousin Betty,—A few years ago I was asked to a big party, and after playing several games someone suggested a “have.” We were all turned out into the passage, and then one by one were called in. When it came to my turn I went into a dimly lighted room and was given a saucer to hold. I was told not to look down but to do exactly as I was told. The questioner said, “rub your hand on the bottom of your saucer, and then on to your face.” This was repeated several times and then I was taken to a mirror, where, 10, and behold! here was my face as black as a nigger’s! So they all started to laugh and I felt very funny. —2 marks to Cousin Millicent Broadbent (13), Invercargill. SHE DIDN’T FEEL FUNNY! Dear Cousin Betty,—l am going to tell you a story of something that happened to me. A party of seven of us motored to the “Rocks” at Riverton for the day. We arrived at the “Rocks” at 10 o’clock in the morning, and we decided to go in for a bathe before we had our lunch. I undressed and got into my bathing costume, and was getting into the water which I thought was slightly cold. I was just getting used to it when a large wave came and swept right over my head, and I got a mouthful of salt water, which wasn't too nice. I ran right out of the water, and made for the dressing shed, and I vowed I would never go bathing in the sea again, and dear Cousin, I don’t think I would make a very good water rat. I would rather have a nice hot bath at home where there is not so much water, and no monstrous waves. —1 mark to Cousin Nan Stirling (12), Otapiri.

CAPTAIN KINDHEART’S ARMY. Soldiers, —Since we fell into our ranks we have done nothing active for the cause to which we adhere. To carry victory before it, an army must necessarily have every individual soldier well-trained, as the presence of a shirker may upset the workings of a whole company. They may be standing at attention in perfect single file, the picture of a well-trained, well set-up squadron. But when “right turn” is ordered, one figure may hesitate, stumble, and the whole body of men may easily be thrown into confusion. This is the thing we must endeavour to avoid at all costs. It must never be said that our invincible army has a stumbier in it. Every soldier will learn to march firmly and surely, confident of his ability to carry out his orders and to know at once the right and wrong paths. Such will be his worth that others will come to him for advice—such his ardour that he .will take every opportunity of enlisting new recruits. Till now you have been standing at attention, receiving instructions intended to equip you for the approaching battle. Your armour is girded about you, but your mettle is yet to be tried. Here is your advancing signal—onward! and with your armour of human kindness, your voices, and your trusty swords, rescue the dumb creatures that look to you for protection, and champion their cause. Reports of your progress must be at hand in this office not later than Tuesday of every week, when they will be filed and given consideration in promotions. Every kindness to a dumb animal, done either directly or indirectly, should be brought under our notice. Registration cards are being prepared, on which you will be required to sign your name in the presence of two adult witnesses, beneath the oath:— I, a soldier of Kindheart’s Army, do promise to be kind to all Dumb Animals, and to all living things. I will assist in protecting them against any wrong done by anyone else. I will be truthful always. Whenever possible I will encourage other boys and girls to be kind to all birds and animals, and be the true friend of all who love our dumb friends. Every soldier will be expected to repeat the oath when called upon. Forward! soldiers, and with “kindness to animals” as your battle-cry, make it ring out and echo through all the land, earning for your Army gratitude, and your dumb friends, peace. Captain Kindheart, Headquarters, Southland Times Office.

HEARTHFIRE TALE PRUDENCE THE CATERPILLAR. Everybody loved Prudence, she was so shy and timid, so quaintly affectionate, so willing and eager to do things to please everybody in the garden, which was her world. When anybody was in trouble, Prudence would wriggle up softly, and snuggle down quietly beside her, looking up with such a gentle, loving glance, which couldn’t help but comfort and cheer. You would generally end up by hugging her and forgetting all about your horrid old troubles. That was a way she had. So naturally, when Prudence fell ill, everybody was very sad. She had been running messages for Bertie Bee all the afternoon, dragging the yellow petals of a tea-rose all the way across the lawn, to provide paint for the annual decorating of the hives, and, as she could only take one at a time, she was naturally tired out from the exertion. Just as she had been half-way across the lawn with the last petal, she seemed to go limp and dizzy, and the next thing was that kindly Mrs Daisy had bent down and taken her up into her motherly arms and tucked her comfily into her soft, * clean sheets, carefully and tenderly. Bertie Bee flew as fast as he could over to the clump of Sweet Williams where Dr Theophilus Beetle lived with Matilda, his house-keeper. Matilda was the only one at home, and she told him to go over to the Red Poppies, where Percy Sparrow had fractured his left knee, and the Doctor was trying to mend it. When Bertie, quite out of breath, arrived there, he peered all round for some time, till a faint squeaky moan made him look down; and here was Percy, on a bed of velvety red poppy leaves, while the little doctor, was briskly tying a freash oatblade bandage round his knee. But he looked very annoyed about something, and immediately he saw Bertie and heard about Prudence, he bustled up and finished with Percy, shut his bag, took it up, and hurried out without a word. Presently he said, “If it wasn’t that there is no other doctor in the garden, I vow I’d never go near young Sparrow again. He’s not in very great pain, yet by his moans and his groans, and his sighs and his tears, anyone’d think he was dying. I can’t be bothered with him another second! It’s a pity he didn’t get something really sore to put up with. Humph! Here he looked very fierce and closed his mouth with a bang. By the time they reached Mother Daisy, however, his ill-temper had cooled down considerably, and all that was left inside

him must have fled at the sight of poor, suffering little Prudence, lying so listless and inert in her snowy bed. “Tut, tut, what have we here?” he began briskly. “Is this our merry little Prue? What have they been doing to you, lassie?” But instead of the timid, friendly smile he was accustomed to summon, she uttered a little tired sigh, and sank into a sort of stupor again. Dr Beetle felt her pulse, and shook his head gravely. “What has she been doing?” he asked. Bertie, with big, frightened tears rolling down his face on to the tip of h!s wings, told him, whereat the doctor looked very grave indeed. “She has a touch of sun-stroke, and what is more, I am afraid, she has strained her heart.”

Bertie’s tears, which had all the time been gathering on the tips of his wings, like a dazzling gem on each side of him, fell to the earth with a dull thud, and the doctor turned fiercely on him. “There must be no noise,” he whispered. “Go and fetch Matilda and somebody else to nurse her. She must have trained attendance night and day.” Bertie was only too glad to be of some use, and he rushed madly away to find a trained nurse, and bring her by force, if need be. This was not necessary, however, as Tim Mosquito had heard what had occurred, and had been busy telling every hotly about little Prudence’s illness. The result was that he met Fanny Lizard and Margery Snail on their way to nurse her, and although he told them Matilda Beetle was going, and that only one other would be needed, they both insisted on accompanying him. So Prudence was well looked after. It is easy to tell how popular anybody is when he or she is ill. Everyday from dawn to dusk, there was a continual stream of friends coming to see how Prudence was. As she improved, they brought her all sorts of dainties imaginable to tempt her appetite, and she grew well rapidly. Then came the day when Tommy Feildmouse drove up with a little carriage made from the half-section of a walnut shell, into which Mother Daisy gently lowered her precious charge. Ever so carefully he drew her across the lawn to her own home at “The Ragworts,” where her anxious family were waiting to receive her. How pleased they were to see her looking, nearly like her old self once more. What excitement there was when she actually walked from her carriage to the door, even so very, very slowly! Never was there a happier family, gathering in any garden than there was that night, when they celebrated with freshlymade honey given by the Bees, the homecoming of their precious Prue.

FROM THE POETS. THE HEART OF A ROSE. “What is there hid in the heart of a rose, Mother mine?” “Ah, who knows, who knows, who knows? A Man that died on a lonely hill May tell you, perhaps, but none other will, little child.” “What does it take to make a rose, Mother mine?” “The God that died to make it knows. It takes the world’s eternal wars, It takes the moon and all the stars, It takes the might of Heaven and Hell, And the everlasting Love as well, little child.” —Alfred Noyes. It pleases me to think so many of you appreciate this little corner, dears. Perhaps, someday, someone will take your work and put it in a Poet’s corner. How many of you are going to be really truly poets, I wonder! Of course, all the tiny selections we have in this corner are bits of my favourites, and I hope they are going to be your favourites, too. Don’t forget to send along your own choice whenever you like. Then it will be our “little garden of choicest flowers,” won’t it. —Cousin Betty. THE ADVENTURES OF A BOOT. —First Prize.— There was a great bustle in the White household one morning. Bobby White nearly ran the soles off my brother and me as he scurried about. He was going to the seaside. When he arrived we were quickly tossed aside and left lying, I quite a distance from my brother and nearer the water. After dinner Bobby went to another part of the beach to catch crabs. Soon the tide began to come up and I saw, with fear, that it was coming dreadfully near me. Nearer and nearer crept the waves until a big one carried me out. Twice I thought I was going to be thrown ashore again, but I was borne out of the little bay. Just as I was feeling very seasick, I sank to the bottom. Poor Bobby was dreadfully worried when he discovered that I was gone. The Whites were not very well off and he knew that he would now have to go to school most of the winter without boots. After a miserable afternoon spent hunting for me, he went home with bare feet. Next morning I heard a splash! splash! near me, and into my toe sprang a tiny fish, while many others swam around me. I soon discovered the cause of the flurry. A net was stretched across the water. Presently, a dinghy was near and I felt myself drawn up. “A good catch,” remarked one man. “A lucky one for a certain small boy I know,” laughed another, as he drew me out of the net. They knew where I belonged, and I was dried and sent back to Bobby, not much the worse for my adventure. What rejoicing there was when he opened that parcel and found his poor, lost boot. —4 marks to Cousin Esther Ellis (14), Invercargill. —Second Prize.— . I am a tiny shoe; but I shall tell you about my big brother, who is a boot. In the first place, he is made of solid leather. One day, when he was in a good humour, he told me his history. I shall tell you what he said : “Once I roamed in the grassy meadows, on the back of a hefty bullock. One day, Mr Farmer came along ; and I was sent to a boot-faqtory. I was rather bewildered at the variety of processes through which I had to go. Indeed, my dear sister, I felt rather queer. I don’t know why; it may have been the change from “grassy meadows sweet with hay” to an ill-smelling boot-factory; it may have been that I was experiencing something entirely novel to me. Our grandpa told us that he was made into a boot, by a shoe-maker, in a tiny room, where there was such a profusion of small tools. It was six months before he was changed from leather to a boot; I was made in six hours. It is incredible, little sister, I cannot understand it.” I replied that I found it rather mystifying also; I mean the difference between the way grandpa was made and the way we were made. Nowadays, big brother tramps the dusty streets on one foot of a busy merchant. What would that merchant do without big brother and other boots? I don’t know, do you? Perhaps he would go bare-footed, as you do at the seaside. Big brother said he heard the merchant say: “I shall give my boots to my shopassistant.” Oh 1 How useful he is; and so handsome, too! Everyone takes a fancy to him; and, indeed, well they might! —3 marks to Cousin Annie Playfair (14), Gummies Bush. —Highly Commended.— I am an old boot waiting to be burnt. I was once on the right foot of a rough young man who played football. So at last he put tags on me. Having done the same to my brother who went on his left foot, he called them football boots. About two years later we were taken to a second-hand shop, where we were for four years. At last a poor old man wanting some boots came in and asked for size six. The man in the

shop brought out several pairs of bootjs, including us (the football boots), with the tags off. The old man took us home and thought us to be the best boots in the world. Now, after many years of rough life, I am to be burnt in the copper fire at the old man’s cottage. —2 marks to Cousin Arnot Broadbent (9), Invercargill. —THE OPTIMIST.— Years ago I was the hide of an old cow grazing in the meadows. The cow was so old that her teeth had fallen out, so she could not chew her food; therefore she gave very little milk. Mr Green, the farmer, sold her to the freezing works, who sold the skin to a tannery. The skin was tanned and sold to a large boot factory. There I was cut, sewn and hammered into the shape of a boot. I was made so carefully and well that 1 thought no other boot could compare with me. I was then sold to a shop with a number of other boots. One day a man came into the shop. He said to the shopman: “I want a very good pair of boots.” The shopman went to a shelf and brought me down. “Ah,” said the man, “just the pair that I want.” The assistant fitted, me on the man’s foot. “Good,” said the man, “they are a perfect “How much?” “Thirty-one shillings and sixpence,” said the shopman. “Oh, they’re very dear, but I’ll take them.” “You will find that they will wear well, Sir,” said the shopman. My owner always said to his friends that I was very comfortable to wear. I was mended twice, and, when I became beyond ; repair, I was thrown’ out on the rubbish heap. I now have a piece of leather cut off | the top of me to serve the purpose of some small boys. So I am still of some use yet. —2 marks to Cousin Mavis McKenzie (13), Clifton. MY LIFE STORY. 1 am an old worn-out boot lying dejectedly in the gutter, but I have had my life of joys and sorrows. Five years ago I was made in a large boot factory and then taken to a large shop where 1 and my twin brother were put in the window for show. What a weary life was that. From morning to night a | constant stream of people moved past the window, some looking in and staring at us till we were absolutely miserable. At last one gentleman came in asking for a pair of black boots. So after the upheaval of the whole shop we were taken out and were shown in our turn. After a long time of fitting on and trying we were chosen. From that time a new life began for us; for we were worn day in and day out, kicked about the floor at night, and led, on the whole, a very active life. But at last we became worn out and were put in a dark, dirty cupboard where we were left for what seemed to me centuries. One day, however, a woman came and opened the cupboard door and took me out. She tied a piece of string round me and then tied me to the back of a motorcar and there I was dangling on the ground as the car moved along. We had gone a long way when suddenly the car turned with such a jerk that I fell off and landed in the gutter. So here lam and here I will stay till some worse fate overtakes me. 2 marks to Cousin Millicent Broadbent (13), Invercargill. THE LITTLE GIRL’S BOOT. I am an old boot lying on the rubbish heap. But, although I am old and discarded I shall tell you my story. “I am a little girl’s boot. Once I was a piece of. hide, but I was taken to a boot manufacturing factory, and there I was made into a pair of boots. My brother and I were packed in a box with many others; and were taken to the warehouse. One day a man came into the warehouse and asked for twenty pairs of girls’ boots. The shopman took down the box in which we were lying. We seemed to please the man and he took all of us. This man was a shop-keeper. After taking ys to his shop he took us out of our box and placed us on a shelf; and here we waited a week. One day a lady came into the shop, bringing with her a pretty little girl. The shopman gave the lady some boots, but none seemed to suit her. Then he showed her my brother and I. We were just what she wanted. She took us home and then the little girl put us on. We had a beautiful clean home. Every morning she cleaned us with Nugget and made us look shiny. But one day a sad thing happened. It was a frosty morning. The grass was white and a zephyr breeze was blowing, while all the time it was very cold. On this particular morning, the little girl got up, and so that her feet would keep warm she put us in the oven. Unfortunately she forgot all about us, and when she went to get us we were all burnt. We were then thrown out on the rubbish heap, where you see us now.” —2 marks to Cousin Ruth Jacquiery (13), Invercargill. THE APPLE TREE FAIRY. —Highly Commended.— The Apple-tree Fairy would not work. She sat on a little branch of the tree and went to sleep. When she awoke all the others had put leaves on the other branches except the one she had a sleep on ready for Nature to paint. When Nature came around she looked at the branch “on which the lazy fairy had slept,” and said, “Why are there no leaves on this branch?” Pointing to the lazy fairy the others said: ‘This fairy slept on that branch while we worked.” “Well!” said Nature, “we shall see.” She said to the lazy fairy, “Come with me.” She took her to a small garden in which were a few withered flowers and a great many dead ones. “These flower fairies have been lazy and have not worked to keep the flowers, and have drooped and died,” said Nature. “I have brought you here to show you what your tree would be like if you did as those fairies have done.” “Oh!” said the fairy, “Forgive me.” Then looking very sad she said, “I will work as long as the others want me to if our tree does not die.” “Yes,” said Nature, “I will forgive you, but when you go back you must make leaves for the branch you slept on.” When they went back the fairies were glad to see her working. After that there never was such a willing worker as this fairy. —2 marks to Cousin Sheila Wilkinson (11), Stewart Island. ANNA’S VISITOR. Anna had been running about all afternoon and was very tired. Her daddy had hung a hammock under her favourite appletree for her to lie in. Of course this was the place she went to now. Anna had been lying in the hammock for a few minutes, when looking up she saw a little fairy. She was the prettiest fairy Anna had ever seen. Her dress was the colour of apple- tree leaves. Her wings the colour of apple-blossoms. Her cheeks as rosy as the apples on the tree. Her hair very wavy and brown in colour. “You are Anna, the little girl I’v* seen playing in the orchard, are you not?" said the fairy. “Yes. And I think you are the Apple-tree Fairy,” said Anna. “You think right,” said the fairy. “Would you like me to come and tell you what I do.” ‘Oh yes please,” said Anna. Soon the fairy was down beside her. “I will tell you my work for every season of the year,” said she. “In Spring,” she went on, “I have the little tender leaves to watch. Early in Spring I cover them with brown blankets. Then as they get stronger they push their blankets off. In Summer the blossoms have to be looked after. I have to watch and drive away the insects that come to harm them. In Autumn when the apples are ripe, I have to watch that no birds get them. This is very hard for there are so many apples and only one fairy to watch

them. In Winter the baby leaves for next Spring must be looked after. So lam busy all the year round. Now I must go for, I see a bird eating my apples.” With that she was off. —2 marks to Cousin Betty Griffiths (12), Invercargill. THOUGHTFUL SILVERBELL. Each apple-tree according to its has a number of fairies allotted to it. Silverbell, who inhabited the largest tree in the orchard had twenty fairies under her. Every morning, just as the fairy-bells chimed, the Fairy Queen’s herald went to every apple-tree and awakened the fairies to their work, which consisted of dusting the tree down, brushing away dead leaves, looking after the dainty blossoms and encouraging birds to eat the blight. One morning the Herald woke them earlier than usual and his news filled all the fairies with delightful anticipation, for the Fairy Queen had ordered a ball to be held in Fern Grotto. Silverbell was happier than any others, for like all fairies she was passionately fond of parties. She and her fairies had the work done more quickly than any other day. Then they made new dresses for the coming event. Silverbell had finished hers for which she had used pink apple blossom petals covered with fine gossamer lace, when she looked up and saw her near neighbour, crying by herself. She flitted over and asked what was the matter. Rosalind, the other fairy, told her that she had been asleep when the Herald came and had not wakened till four hours later. The work was not done and the other five fairies would not help. Silverbell said she would help her and together they had the work done in time for the ball. When Silverbell stopped to tidy herself she found that her dress was ruined for she had not changed it. In this state she could not go to the ball and decided to stay at home. When the Queen heard about Silverbell she sent a page- with a beautiful dress for her and when Silverbell arrived she was rewarded by being placed third in rank to the Queen. —2 marks to Cousin Patricia Ward (12), West Plains. CYNTHIA.

There was once an Apple-tree Fairy named Cynthia, who did not want to do any work or make the little buds grow. She therefore asked the spider to spin a web for her and when he had finished she sat in it, for it was a hammock he had made for her. AH the day she sat there either sleeping or reading a little fairy book. When night came she looked into the other trees and the fairies were so busy making the little buds. Then she looked down and saw all the worms so busy bringing up. moisture to the surface. Then she looked right round and saw all the things that work at night so busy. After a little while she thought, “How silly I must look to all those creatures, I must also get up and work.” The first thing she did was to ask Wind to come and blow away all the rubbish and grass. When that was done, she asked the Sun to shine. It shone so much, and she worked so hard that she had soon caught up and was even ahead of some of the fairies. She never played, and when the time came for the apples, Cynthia's tree had the largest and there were so many’ apples that the branches were drooping to the ground. —Cousin Clara Buckingham (10), Putangahau.